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#I should draw more of Mac and cheese. I need to draw what they look like as adults
turtle-trash · 5 months
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Sam n maxs kids but they (the one w the black sketch and the brown sketch are m sam n max fankids Mac and cheese [Mac is stimming and cheese is non verbal]). The second image is the original
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loveinhawkins · 2 years
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 ao3
The telltale catch in Steve’s breathing evens out far too quickly for it to be natural. Eddie can feel how he repeatedly holds his breath for a few brutal seconds at a time, trying to force his crying to a stop. It’s done so thoroughly, so efficiently, that Eddie is left with the unavoidable conclusion that it’s a practised skill; that at some point, Steve must have taught himself to cry silently—and to get it over and done with as quickly as possible.
Steve lifts his head up slowly from Eddie’s shoulder. He keeps his eyes low, looking down at the bed, and as he moves, he dislodges Eddie’s hold on him.
Eddie takes the hint and draws back. He’d been stroking one hand through Steve’s hair in a soothing rhythm, but it seemed so natural—done instinctively, almost unconsciously—that it’s only from stopping that he even realises he was doing it in the first place.
“Uh, sorry.”
Steve shakes his head, looks up to meet Eddie’s gaze with a weak but genuine smile.
“No, it’s… just don’t want to fall asleep,” he says. Then he seems to catch himself and amends, “Like, you can, obviously. Don’t let me—”
“Nah, it’s cool.”
Eddie takes his lead from Steve’s tone: that studiously casual air, back to normal, nothing to see here, just drop it.
He can hear the sound of nurses talking in the corridor, fading away as they walk past the door to Steve’s room. With the bedside lamp on, it feels suddenly like when he’d get up early for school in the optimistic first few weeks after summer: the world just on the cusp of waking up, still blurry around the edges.
Eddie squints in the dim light to read the clock on the wall. “Hey, you want food? Kitchens should open for breakfast soon.” Then, before Steve can reply, the thought hits him, and he rambles on, “Shit, I didn’t even—like, have they, um, cleared you for…?”
Steve laughs shakily, brushing away the remaining evidence of tears on his face. Eddie catches him giving a little self-directed wince as he does so, like he’s embarrassed himself, and the thought is quietly devastating.
“Yeah, I can eat. Got a whole bowl of mac and cheese after you left, actually.” Steve shrugs. “Doctors came in with all these charts and when they took the mask off, all I could think to say was ‘I’m starving.’”
Eddie snorts, remembering when he’d walkied Nancy for a food delivery. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Right? Glad someone does, they just stared at me like I was nuts. Still.” Another shrug. “I’m not exactly their first rodeo. Think I recognised some of them from way back, with Will. Guess they figured if I was eating it meant their drug cocktail was working.”
And Eddie knows that this version of events is no doubt highly sanitised—yet even with Steve’s nonchalant delivery, he gets the impression that whatever the doctors greeted him with had been less reassuring and more, you’re out the fucking twilight zone, kid, just be grateful and don’t ask too many questions.
“So, how was it? Give your compliments to the chef?”
“Oh, I, um.” Steve’s nose wrinkles, and he gives an endearing, slightly sheepish smile. “I don’t like mac and cheese, it was just leftover from… I wasn’t really in the position to be picky, you know?”
There’s a sudden, fierce swell of protectiveness in Eddie’s chest. “Well, fuck that. What do you want to eat now? Like, think world’s your oyster kinda shit.”
“Hmm, you might be overselling the options here. Honestly?” Steve pauses, heaves a sigh and says, heartfelt, “Toast.”
Eddie had been resolved to find it, no matter what had been said; hell, Steve could’ve said ‘caviar’ and Eddie’s pretty sure he wouldn’t even have batted an eye.
But as it is, the simplicity of Steve’s answer is unexpectedly moving—that, after everything, this is all he wants. Eddie’s already decided that this’ll be the best goddamn piece of toast in the history of the universe.
“Okay, but like, I need a guide, man. What’s your preference? Cremation levels of burnt or warm bread?”
Steve stares. “What?” His mouth is twitching, pulling up into a smile despite his still red-rimmed eyes.
Eddie sees his chance, and he plays up to it, quipping back, “You gotta give me something to work with.”
Steve laughs. Though it’s still on the quiet side, Eddie can tell it’s a good one, right from the belly. “Sorry, didn’t realise I needed a damn paint chart. Light brown enough for you?”
Eddie nods, carefully rises from the bed so as not to jostle Steve. “Your wish is my command.”
He brings back a plate of toast with entirely too many packets of butter, and Steve looks at him like he hung the moon; when he takes a bite, he says, “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
Eddie scoffs. “Think you need to raise your expectations.”
“No, I’m serious.” Steve makes a show of tilting the plate this way and that, like it’s on display at an art gallery. “You got the butter right to the corners; that takes skill, dude.”
“If you say so,” Eddie says, and he smiles behind his own cup of coffee.
There’s a gentle lull in the conversation for a few minutes, before Steve says, “You brought your guitar.”
“Yeah, I didn’t, um, really mean to? Just kinda jumped into my hands when I walked out the door.” Now back on the couch, Eddie makes an automatic movement for the guitar, where it stands propped up against the wall. Then he stops himself. “Bet you’re sick of my playing at this point, huh?”
His voice is still light, the perfect set-up for Steve to tease him back, but that doesn’t happen at all. Steve just blinks a few times, like he’s heard something confusing, then says, “No,” so simply that it threatens to put a lump in Eddie’s throat.
So he picks up the guitar. And because it’s second nature by now, feels as natural as breathing, Eddie doesn’t notice that he’s started to play Steve’s song, until he hears Steve give a sharp intake of breath.
“Shit.” Eddie nearly drops the guitar in mortification. “Steve, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t—”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s—”
“Eddie,” Steve says firmly, “it’s fine. Please play it?”
And Eddie could never deny him. He doesn’t sing, though, has some kind of instinct that he shouldn’t—because Steve’s eyes start looking far-off about ten seconds in.
Where are you going? Can I help? Can I go with you?
His decision to not sing is soon proven to be the right one—otherwise he might have missed Steve saying, soft as sand, “How long did…?”
Eddie waits. He loses his place for a moment, skips to the chorus. “How long did what?”
But Steve is already shaking his head. “Never mind.”
And he quickly pulls himself away from wherever he’d gone, something dark and melancholy leaving his eyes in a matter of seconds—like it, too, has been forcibly pushed back. He’s not ready, Eddie thinks.
It’s okay. I’ll still be here when you are.
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pyrepostings · 5 months
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workplace whump: restaurants
regularly using sharp knives means sooner or later you're going to draw your own blood
Dull knives can also hurt you and worse (take care of your knives)
Ticket stabbers are sharp and a real pain in the hand to slam your hand onto
Some of the worst kitchen injures I see online and in person come from mandolin slicers (likely because the blade never gets sharpened properly)
Regularly using fire means sooner or later you're going to burn yourself
Burning yourself through a wet spot on the towel you grab a pan from the oven with
Grabbing a metal bowl that was left on the flat top that you didn't know was on the flat top with full force and dropping the bowl full of food on the ground and also burning your hand in the process
Hot oil splashing at your face
Dipping your entire hand into the hot fryer (I don't know how this guy has survived till now either but he did do it a second time apparently. Coworkers that should get their own whump prompt post)
Standing all day
Hot as fuck kitchen with minimal air circulation meaning the entire room is hot and humid and you have to wear long black pants, black sleeved shirt, and a hat (Healthcode+dress code)
Exhaustion. Imagine working 10+ hours 5 days a week and then on Sunday being required to work a double on your day off cutting your weekend in half and the one remaining day being spent at your parents house to spend mother's day (because you weren't there yesterday. Because mothers day is a restraunt holiday. Which means you work more not less) so good luck finding time to relax or get chores done before jumping in to another busy week.
Finding things you didn't know could break skin: tin foil seal edges of oil bottles. Edges of sufficiently fucked up cambros that should have been replaced a year ago. Freezer doors where the plastic has chipped off.
Hungry. Stealing food. Figuring out what food is safe to steal. Never eating more than a mouthful at a time. Chef gives you a mistakenly made side Mac and cheese. It's slightly cold but it's the best thing you've ever tasted. By the time you can actually finish it, it's been stone cold for three hours (deluge of tickets ringing in)
Banging your head on the pots and pans hanging up by the sinks.
Shucking oysters means shucking your own hand on occasion (record here is needing 7 stitches I think) don't be stupid with a shucker it's sharper than it looks.
Contracting something from sticking your hand in the dirty silverware bucket.
Stabbing yourself by sticking your hand in the dirty silverware bucket.
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drsoulblast-official · 6 months
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The first SoulBlast newsletter is here!
What’s new?
Since we made the master post, we’ve gotten a decent amount of content done behind the scenes. In terms of writing, we’ve developed the names of all our areas in Chapter 1. Praedium Extremam is our “Cliffs” replacement, being a Latin phrase. Here, you meet Gnite, eventually reaching their domain halfway through the chapter instead of near the beginning. The Praedium Extremam is the outskirts of it, as you pass through part of its edge. I’ll talk about more areas in the future, but I’d prefer to have music for them or at least some kind of art when I do. Praedium Extremam has had a track on our SoundCloud/YouTube channel for a couple months now, so check it out!
Why haven’t you got any finalized designs yet? I can’t live with just the logo!
We’ve been trying for a long time to find a style and generalized look for our characters that feel fitting, as well as finding some artists who have a work ethic and pace similar to Nintenguy or Averie’s (our main composers as of now). Believe me, it’ll all be worth it in the end.
What’s Terra been up to?
In reality, aside from working on some random things, I haven’t really done all that much. I’m working towards the prep needed for a SoulBlast story outline and write-up, but I haven’t been very busy lately.
SoulBlast…. Eggs?
When Easter came around, I thought it’d be funny to draw a goofy little Easter egg and have any others who wanted to do the same to put their own in general. We got some fun submissions, which can be seen below
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(Created by Terra, Alternimo, ggblister and fakentgamer)
Speaking of eggs, if somebody records themself making (and trying) the Xero Mac n Cheese bites recipe from the server’s “all revealed writing” channel (with all extra ingredients that were mentioned being included, aside from teeth ofc), I’d try to find a some kinda reward for them, so there’s that.
Nintenguy has a game…. and a sequel?
Nintenguy recently released "toonz²", a sequel for his point and click horror game “toonz.” very recently! Check the original and the sequel out!
toonz: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/819958637/
toonz²: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/844522217/
What should I look forward to?
We’ve actually just finished a song and have made good progress on another one! It has a motif from a source we haven’t pulled from yet, and it’s not as predominant this time to reduce motifs. The reason the finished song won’t be released just yet is because we plan to have concept art for it, which is kind of an issue in itself, but we’ll get there soon enough! (Insert your review here). Just for fun, here’s a little teaser of it!
That’s all!
Go check out our stuff below! The next newsletter will be posted in 2 weeks (since it’s biweekly)
YouTube: https://youtube.com/@soulblastau5574?si=fuh6MJy1Hgd4FVaT
SoundCloud: https://on.soundcloud.com/UVadRL6CSVdqxkRv9
Discord: https://discord.gg/3bAtNkxH2P
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dino-boyo-agere · 2 years
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30 days of AgeRe!!
Saw it on @'s page n decided to do it to!
I hope I'll remember to upload it on Christmas hehe
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It kinda just came natural to me, I realized I often felt small, when I fell on hard times and upon looking it up, I found out about the community <3
My little age mostly varies between 3 to 6 years, but sometimes I am older (up to 12)
Kind of.. I have papa but he is really bad at speaking English (we are German) and when I'm little I tend to talk English... I often go completely nonverbal too, that doesn't help winter though. He also lives far away, so I am kinda looking for an English speaking online cg, but I'm really bad at keeping contact.
Uh, I don't know.. It really depends on my mood. I really liked ke to be alone sometimes and other days I just want to cuddle all day. I would really love to go on a playdate though!!
Yes, I haven lots! Sippy cups, Pacies, lil clothes, cute nappies, lot's of toys & plushies, etc.
No, I don't. I think pet regression is super cute (and very valid) though!
Little me is fairly similar to big me, but I'm even more shy when small and generally scared of many more things. I also often go nonverbal and I stim way more.
Both! Coloring when I'm smaller and drawing when I'm a bigger kid.
I talked to @numblittlebug02, @pupslittlespace2 , @sfwregressionfanfictions, @honeyspiders10, & @bootlegmothman420 and they all seem really nice. I also really like @my-lil-playhouse, @babblingbabybrookie, @nostalgic-woodwind, @syd-agerekiddo and @tinyaractus
I'm getting better at controlling it! In the beginning I didn't even know how to voluntary regress, it only happened when I wasn't doing well (mentally and/or physically). I now do know how to become tiny and can plan little time when I need it. I sometimes still regress involuntary though, mostly when I'm overstimulated or sick (physically sick or in a bad mental space)
I just googled what Age Dreaming is and: Yes, all the time!
Yes, I do regress in many of my dreams.
Mac and Cheese and PB&J sandwiches
Yes!! I have way to many..
Yes, most of my friends and my family know. Some get it, others don't really understand but everyone accepts me and my Regression. I've only regressed Infront one of my friends though, she just rolled with it (she's the mom friend)
Hmm, I really like Buddy, Kiddo and Silly.. And I absolutely melt when someone calls me Darling or Sweetheart
Being called Darling or Sweetheart, bubble baths, coloring & crafting, aswell as specific YouTubers, Movies and Shows I watched as a kid. (And the former mentioned triggers of my involuntary regression)
Depends, sometimes not so much, I often struggle to stay regressed bc of my anxiety. I get scared that ppl think I'm weird or annoying.
I feel very safe in the community but sometimes other regressors can be very judgemental and jump to conclusions.. I got cast out and blocked by whole groups because they 'found out' I wear nappies (I'm really open about that) and immediately ostracized me, because they thought I was ABDL.. I am incontinent bc of a birth defect, I have to wear diapers 24/7 and when I'm small, I like to wear cute and colorful ones! I am not an ABDL. Besides, people can be ABDL when their big and still be valid in their Age Regression, as long as they seperate the two things they should still be allowed in the community. Age Regressors are still just as valid, when they have NSFW interests while big.. One thing has nothing to do with the other, imo. (Just keep them separated!)
Yes, lot's!! Especially ones about my comfort characters and I like ffs where the little!reader is interacting with comfort characters. I also write ffs, I haven't posted them yet though.
Yes but I despise being tickled. It makes me really uncomfortable one I feel very unsafe when someone does it. It's a big trigger for me, generally, I don't like physical contact unless I initiate it.
Argyle from stranger things, I think.. Eddie Munson is currently my No. 1 comfort character, but I think Argyle would still be the best fit for me when it comes to being a cg. (Though he would have to stop smoking pod, drug use is also a big trigger for me bc of trauma). Derek Morgan from Criminal Minds would also be amazing, I think, bc he would probably know how to handle my meltdowns and he's so loving.
I really want one of those hanging chairs, that can swing and it should be really big like a huge birds nest. And dinosaurs everywhere!!!
Yes! I like going on space missions and visiting the Jurassic Park.
Trauma, aswell as Stress relief.
Yes, I partially listen to the same music (exception of really sad & violent lyrics and songs with to many bad words). I also really like instrumentals, classical music and lofi beats when I'm tiny. So I listen to a wild mix.. (Cavetown, Bethoven, frad, game soundtracks, etc.)
No.
Shy, skittish, quiet but can be very playful and upbeat when I feel safe.
I think I might have the tendency to get into a cg type headspace, when I'm with someone who seems small. I feel more like a big brother/ sibling or maybe babysitter though, I think.
I'm really happy to be part of this community and I hope to make lots of friends <3
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everyounceofhate · 2 years
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1/15/2023
I think Paul or my Dad said recently I should start writing down things that happen day to day so I remember who I’ve talked to or what I’ve done, so I might try to get in the habit. That way I can have a clearer record of what I’m dealing with. Anyway.
Didn’t get to sleep until about 8am, woke up around 2ish, but I looked online and saw I didn’t have any replies from Cill about Beck/Olivia shipping, or any tags, so I went back to bed. Ended up blowing Derek off on hanging out but he was kind of expecting it.
Got out of bed around ~4. Got upset Eren was taking so long in the shower and had a minor breakdown because I couldn’t have a shower before D&D.
D&D was good. I honestly think it went better without Gretchen there playing Kinder as a little shit. Semavi reunited with Insene (In-sen) and flirted with her in game. We met Todrick, Samus, and Wrigley on the road. I had a feeling something was up with them since they were supposedly “traders” but didn’t have any goods and later on in some 1-on-1 roleplay with Tristan where Semavi looked in on them, I discovered they were escaped slaves from Ket. I gave them each a silver and told them in exchange for overlooking them killing soldiers on the road to freedom (which they aren’t supposed to do) I’d appreciate them keeping an ear out for any information for me.
Faruque the Wise was talking to Kaleb in a Tavern. I did an alignment check and discovered he’s evil. Faruque cased me and knows Semavi by reputation, but we seem to have an understanding. At least I hope so. Semavi told Thana that Kaleb was evil but mentioned it’s not necessarily a bad thing.
EJ made a really cute drawing of Semavi with “the kids” and it made me smile. I put it on the piano. I think I might get it framed, honestly. It’s so cute. I love it a lot.
I talked with EJ about Clown Camp and they seemed interested. I’ll message Liz about it. I’m mostly worried about them being able to afford it--I’m not even sure I’LL be able to afford it. Also, EJ is twelve? What the actual fuck.
I wrote out some plot notes to Cill about Beck and Olivia and sent some ideas to mogget too. Not posts yet today but I might bang one out to keep on it. I wrote like 5-6 yesterday and broke 40k total on the writerbot. I was pretty proud of that. I’m at ~9800 words for my yearly goal. Another proud moment.
Went to Pick and Save with Tristan for some essentials, aka Pepsi. 
Today I Ate: -Steak Hibachi -White Rice -Mac and Cheese Bites Thought more about selling OhM and I think I’m going to. Just need to tell JR. Gotta look into Mahjong sets for The Gentleman Loser. Hanafuda cards might be nice too. I really hope I hear at some point soon if Jake is banned from the event or not. I’m sure he’ll make a post about it. He still has that ugly ass Al Swearengen look going on. What a fucker.
Ordering an archery glove this week from somewhere. Etsy or Amazon, likely.
Debating on whether moving in with Joones and Derek is a good idea. Moving in with two guys who want to sleep with me seems like a recipe for trouble. $478 on rent doesn’t sound terrible, especially if it means I get to have Susu. 
I need to send my resume in to the library tomorrow.
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miekasa · 4 years
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random boyfriend eren hcs (modern/college au)
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↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader
↯ genres and warnings: modern/college au, himbo eren supremacy as per usual, but can you imagine eren, armin, and jean living together in one house bye
↯ notes: this is me once again trying out this headcanon format, also because i have lots of thoughts about eren (being normal) and going to college lmao
↯ more notes: sorry i have to repost this again tumblr is being dumb ://
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Not a frat boy, but definitely lives by the mantra “work hard, party harder.”
Likes going out to frat parties and keggers first year, but calms down as time goes on. Sophomore year is more house parties and occasionally going downtown to clubs. By the time junior year rolls around tho, he and Jean are thee party hosts. Homecoming, Halloween, Pre-Thanksgiving break, you name it, those two have a reason to throw a party for it
But party doesn’t always mean absolute rager. Sometimes it’s just drinking with your friends, playing pong, and absolutely crushing Jean at uno. 
At parties with lots of other people, Eren really doesn’t let people fuck around with you, or any of his friends really. Once almost got into a fight because he watched a guy out his hands on yours and Mikasa’s waists to “move around you.” As if. 
Wears his key necklace around all the time, obviously. So he gives you a necklace with a lock on it, with both of your initials engraved on the back. 
Nobody really notices it at first, since the chains are long and the necklaces are you usually tucked inside your shirts. But one day, ever the observant one, Armin catches a glimpse of yours resting on top of your shirt. Cue squinted eyes looking back and forth between you and Eren before—eureka! “You and Eren have matching necklaces!!!”
Plays sports, not for a scholarship but just for fun. Gets very pouty when you can’t make it to his games; and gets extra pouty if you show up, but you’re not wearing his jersey.
On the flip side, gets very giddy when he sees you in the stands with his jersey on and very ostentatiously scoops you up into a hug after the game is over.
Literally does not know where the library is until you show it to him. Any of them. Help him.
The worst person to study with if he doesn’t have any actual work to do. Will bother you and prefer to gossip than to let you do your work in peace. If you need an actual study buddy, you should try Mikasa.
Drunkenly hits on you a lot. Scratch that, he hits on you regardless, drunk or sober, despite the fact that you’re literally dating him already.
Literally reserves at least two nights of the week to have dinner with Armin bye and you couldn’t even interrupt them if you tried.
Waits for you outside of your classroom if you’ve had an important presentation or something. Not always with anything cheesy or loud, but just to be able to cheer you on and congratulate you after.
Hates the act of going grocery shopping, but loves going with you. Also because you force him to buy things other than Anytizers and Kraft Mac and Cheese.
Steals your hair ties and scrunchies to put his hair up. Does not fucking give them back, and denies having them, even if they’re piling up on his wrist.
Will drive you anywhere and everywhere. He is your personal Uber. Even if you don’t want him to be, he would rather die than let you get into an actual Uber—and if it’s late at night? Forget it, Eren doesn’t care if you’re 45 mins away, he’ll come get you.
After you stabbed him with your pen for drawing in your notebook (with your very pristine notes), he started leaving sticky notes inside of them instead.
They’re all super random, usually incoherent, and sometimes just drawings, and you’d never tell him, but you keep every single one.
Cuts class a lot, but not to the point where he’s failing. Just when he feels like it’s deserved, you know? Like, if he attended lecture for a class all week, he deserved to skip Friday’s lecture. As a treat.
He’s embarrassing. Endearing, but so embarrassing. Like, singing in the middle of the street embarrassing. Asking you to do a TikTok in public embarrassing. Why do you even love him.
Moves off-campus during junior year and rooms with Jean and Armin in three-bedroom house. So, he’s never actually lonely, but he’s a little crybaby and will whine to get to you to come over.
LOVES sleeping over at your place, though. Because you live with Annie and Mikasa, so your place is always clean and always smells good. Plus Mikasa and Annie are usually busy, which means you get more privacy at your place.
Mikasa honestly just starts making breakfast for Eren in the mornings when he does sleep over, and Annie is so unfazed by his presence.
Jumps at the opportunity to join in on your girls wine-night or skincare-routine night. So what if it’s him and three other girls drinking red wine with face masks on and talking about Anne Hathaway movies while playing Monopoly Deal? It leaves him pleasantly buzzed and his skin is absolutely glowing, suck his dick, Connie.
Likely doesn’t understand a thing about your major/program but listens enthusiastically when you talk about it anyways.
His lock screen is the only selfie he’s ever convinced you to take with him. (That’s okay because he has many screenshots of your snaps for safekeeping and blackmailing).
Tries to get you to exercise with him. If you’re into that, then great. If you’re not, it’s okay, he always has time to stop and take a mid-workout thirst trap to send your way. Because he’s annoying like that.
Once accidentally replied to the whole class instead of just the professor on an email asking him to be a g and bump his 89.9 to a 90. Embarrassing. (The prof did raise in the end tho, so maybe he really does have some charm to him).
Has to wear reading glasses when studying for a long time/or at his computer for a long time, and even though he doesn’t like them, you think he looks super cute in them; so he wears them more often than usual. 
Calls you asking for the most obscure school supplies/stationary. “Babe, hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare 4x8 poster board laying around now would you?” 
Mind you this is at, like, 3am, 12 hours before the poster board in question is due. 
Speaking of stationary, is an absolute little shit and steals your good pens. He’s partial to the sparkly ones, if he’s being honest. They make his notes look better, fuck you, Jean. 
“Eren, give me back my purple 0.4mm pen.” “I don’t know what that is, sorry.” “Eren, I can see it in your hand!” 
Brings you snacks while you’re studying. If you’re really trying to crack down and be serious, he won’t even bother you. Just bring the snacks, bring you water and boba, kiss your little forehead and be on his way.
Has a polaroid camera he got as a birthday gift, and uses it to sneak pictures of you whenever you’re not looking. He keeps the good ones hung up on a sponge board in his room.
He has a few.... riskier ones too, but those are for his eyes only.
Loves to pick out your nail color when you get your nails done. Honestly gets a little pouty when you don’t ask him lmaoo
Purposely leaves his clothes around so you can wear them. Isn’t subtle about it in the slightest. Sometimes leaves them with a note: “Please wear this, you’d look cute as fuck. Thank you. —Management.”
(slightly nsfw below)
Is not too proud to ask you for risqué snaps. Not necessarily full nudes, thought he doesn’t object to those.
Will literally give you hickeys out of boredom. Will pull you onto his lap and start kissing your neck because he has nothing better to do. Also because it leads to sex 7/10 times. The other 3 times, it’s because he falls asleep with his head in your neck lmaoo
Might have once fucked you with one of his lectures playing in the background, but you’ll never tell.
He really likes phone sex. He’s shit at being quiet, so he can only really do it when Jean and Armin are out of the house, but there’s something about only being able to hear your moans to get off that really does it for him.
He’s kind of goofy and absentminded sometimes, so sometimes you’ll be mid-sex and he’ll look at you like “Hey, did you finish your assignment, it’s due tomorrow right?”
And honestly, you kinda wanna be upset, but then you start thinking—“Did I finish my assignment?” And then you realize you did and nod and he’s like “Ok, cool,” kisses your forehead and resumes where you left off.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years
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If I Fell For You (Part 3) - A Moment
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Summary: Jensen is away from home for a few days but isn’t having the easiest time being away from the kids for the first time since the accident. When he returns home, he has a gala to attend on Saturday night but a kiss on the cheek and slip of the tongue will snowball into the reader and Jensen sharing a moment...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader
Word Count: 6,100ish
Warnings: language, death of a spouse, death of a parent, anxiety, self-worth problems, referenced past harassment
A/N: I love this part so much for so many reasons. Please enjoy!
________
“Hi Jensen,” you asked Monday night when your phone rang. “How was your flight earlier?”
“Same old same old. I just got out of work,” he said with a yawn. “Gonna grab a bite out with a friend. Kids eat dinner okay?”
“We had honey sriracha glazed salmon with brussel sprouts and roasted red potatoes.”
“Really?”
“They had kraft mac and cheese and I had Taco Bell.”
“See this is why I like you,” he chuckled.
“I’ll try the salmon again tomorrow. I was gonna make it but they didn’t have any at the store,” you said, opening the fridge and taking out a pint of ice cream. “Hey can I have what’s left of this mint ice cream?”
“Sure. Pick some more up for me sometime before friday please,” he said. “Also, Taco Bell? You do realize we live in freaking Austin right. There are literally hundreds of places you can go that have better mexican food.”
“Yeah but fake cheese tastes good,” you said. He laughed and your stomach rumbled. “I so should have gotten more than two tacos.”
“You in the kitchen?” he asked. You hummed and you heard him let out an oof in the background.
“Yeah. You alright?”
“This bed in my hotel room is comfy,” he said. “But I was starting to say, go in the drawer at the end of the counter by the table. There’s only five hundred gajillion take out menus in there. Order a treat for yourself. It’s on me.”
“Jensen. I can get my own dinner.”
“True but you’re on call 24/7 until I get back.”
“Well in that case I bet you got a menu for a fancy steakhouse in here somewhere,” you teased as you picked up one for a tex mex looking restaurant. “Does this place really have quesadillas this big?”
“You must be looking at the menu on top. I almost ordered from there last week actually. The food’s great. They do delivery too. Just buzz the guy into the gate when they get there.”
“Any recommendations?” you asked, taking out the menu and flipping it over.
“Quesadillas are good. Loaded nachos are amazing. I’ve literally never had a bad thing from there,” he said. “To be honest I’d rather be getting that than where I’m going tonight.”
“Why’s that?” you asked, reading through your options, surprised to find such good prices.
“I have to wear a suit,” he said with a sigh. “After being poked and prodded all day I literally would rather just eat crap and watch food network.”
“How long have you known this friend of yours?” you asked.
“Twenty years, why?”
“Then you guys knew each other when you were young. It’s not too late out there. Call him, see if he’d rather get some crap food, a six pack and just catch up on his couch or in your room. I’m pretty sure he’s more looking forward to seeing an old friend again than the food,” you said.
“You make very good points. I should pay you more,” he said.
“You pay me plenty and barely let me spend a dime of my money on myself,” you said. “I don’t need more.”
“You got that fancy computer though.”
“You literally have the exact same mac in your office.”
“You moved in like three boxes and two computers,” he said.
“An ipad is not a computer,” you said.
“Debatable.”
“Well I like to draw sometimes and it’s easier on an ipad when you’re laying in bed,” you said. 
“Are you any good?” he asked.
“No.”
“I bet they’re really good,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I see you draw with the kids sometimes and those are good.”
“It’s a hobby is all,” you said, leaning back against the counter, your stomach grumbling again. “Anything else you want me to grab at the store? I’m going to hit it tomorrow while everyone’s at school.”
“Nah. Get the usual stuff,” he said. “The kiddos in bed?”
“Yeah, got the last one down about fifteen minutes ago,” you said. He hummed and you heard the sigh in it. “I got a video of them playing earlier I’ll send you.”
“Thanks. It’s my first night away from them in a long time. Normally I’m able to come back same day. I was kinda hoping they’d still be awake to say goodnight.”
“They’re safe and sound dad. We’ll call again after school tomorrow to talk like today,” you said.
“Yeah,” he breathed out. He was quiet and you pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath. 
“You okay?” 
“I haven’t been alone like this in a really long time.”
“I know. You check out your backpack yet?”
“No. Why?”
“You didn’t bring a jacket with you so I put that yellow hoodie that’s always on the hook in there in case you got cold.”
“That was Dee’s hoodie.”
“I was pretty sure it was,” you said. You heard him shuffle around briefly before he hummed, much happier that time. “I thought you might like to have a piece of...something-”
“I really don’t pay you enough,” he said quietly. “Thanks for putting this in there. I need something from home more than I realized.”
“Well put it on, call up your buddy and have some fun tonight, Ackles. Nanny’s orders.” He laughed and you felt that twinge in your stomach again, your eyes quickly closing.
“I will. Hey you mind if I call again tomorrow night? I don’t have any plans and sitting in a hotel room by myself isn’t very fun.” You smiled and felt heat in your cheeks, quickly thinking it away. He wanted company for a few minutes was all and you were friends. It was completely normal to talk with friends on the phone everyday.
“Of course. As long as you get a dinner in at some point that’s more than fine with me,” you said. “We can talk about The Bachelor!”
“Oh God no,” he groaned, chuckling after a few seconds. “I’ll settle for Grey’s Anatomy.”
“This Is Us?” you asked.
“Supernatural?”
“I haven’t watched that yet. I’m working up to it,” you said. 
“Work faster woman. I only know legit everything about that one,” he chuckled. “But probably not a good idea to watch that one until I get back and you're not alone. First episode is kinda scary.”
“Oh well thanks for that,” you said, watching the clock tick by, knowing it had to be almost seven out there. “I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight Jensen.”
“I will Y/N. Promise.”
Friday Night
“Arrow,” you said after she’d flung her pasta bowl all over herself, covering her hair and face. She sniffled and you forced a smile. “Okay. How about a bath after dinner?”
Fifteen minutes later JJ and Zeppelin were in the movie room watching a cartoon while you had Arrow in the kids bathroom, scooping up some water over her head in the tub.
“Well hello ladies,” you heard behind you. You jumped and spun around, glaring for a moment before you recognized Jensen.
“Just me,” he said, backpack still on his shoulders. 
“Daddy I got ziti all over my head,” she said.
“You did?” he asked, dropping his bag and taking off his jacket, kneeling down next to you. You got the last bit of sauce off and squirted some shampoo in her hair, Jensen watching you with a smile. “How was your day?”
She told him all about breakfast and daycare, playing with a few toy boats with him while you rinsed out the soap. You did a bit of conditioner before getting it out as well and putting the spray nozzle back.
“I got the rest if you wanna get the dryer ready?” he asked you, reaching for the soap. You swapped spots with him, Jensen washing her up while she kept talking about her day. By the time he was all done you had the dryer out and plugged in, Jensen picking her up and wrapping her up in a big bundle of towels before he set her on the counter. You went to work drying her hair, Jensen draining the tub and finding some pajamas for her.
“Do you want your hair up or down, sweetie?” you asked. She tried gathering it up and you grabbed her soft scrunchie perfectly fine for sleeping in from the counter. You put her hair up in a soft little bun, Jensen making an adorable sound when he returned.
“Aw, you look so cute, baby. I’ll be right there alright?” he said. She hopped off the counter and got dressed, rushing off downstairs when she was all done. “Survive the day?”
“Somehow we always do,” you said, gathering up the towels. “Kids are in the movie room.”
“Thanks. I’m gonna shower but we’re all good for the night,” he said. “Thanks for watching them this week.”
“You gotta go do your job,” you said. “You working on a movie or something? You never said.”
“Uh gonna be in a show called The Boys,” he said. “I’m gonna be one of the superheroes so I gotta go out and get my suit made all special for me every so often.”
“You’re gonna be a supe! That’s so fucking cool!” you said. He grinned and you blushed, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so not appropriate.”
“I don’t see any little ears around,” he chuckled. “You like the show then?”
“Yeah. It’s great. Like no other show consistently makes me go what the fuck did I just see. That’s so cool you get to be a supe though. Are you a one off or like a main character?”
“I’ll be very present in the next season. Gonna deal with the seven, all that,” he said. “I’m gonna be Solider Boy.”
“I can see that. You have that all American boy thing about you.”
“It’s my adorable face,” he teased. 
“Well remember to not stay up too late. You have the gala tomorrow night remember?”
“Yes mom,” he said as you walked out. “Get the kids some takeout for dinner tomorrow and yourself.”
“Sounds good boss,” you said. “Night Jensen.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
The Next Night
You froze from where you were mixing up some brownie batter with JJ at the kitchen counter as Jensen popped downstairs. He was in a gorgeous black suit, a maroon pocket square and no tie going on, his hair scruffier looking than normal.
He started to laugh and you realized you were staring, your cheeks feeling hot as you went back to stirring.
“Mmm, you guys save me a brownie or two for when I get home?” he asked, leaning over and dipping his finger in the bowl of cream cheese frosting.
“We’ll spare one for dad,” you said, Jensen going back for seconds. “Ah, ah. No.”
He dipped his finger in and got another fingerful, kissing the top of JJ’s head and the twins at the counter.
“Be good for Y/N guys!” he called as he rushed out.
You whistled and he jogged back, catching you holding up his phone from the counter.
“Thank you,” he said, taking it and pecking a kiss on your cheek. You looked up at him and he froze. “I am so sorry. I…”
“It’s okay. Go have fun and be all charitable,” you said. He shoved his phone in his pocket and ran out, JJ scratching her head.
“Dad’s kinda weird sometimes,” she said.
“Yeah, he is. But so is everybody,” you said. “Let’s get this in the oven so you guys can pick out colors for your frosting, hm?”
“I really shouldn’t. But I really should,” you said to yourself, plopping your second brownie of the night in a bowl and sticking a scoop of ice cream on top. You carried it over to the couch and lay back, watching TV on the big screen as you heard the door open. Jensen came into view a minute later, taking his jacket off and groaning as he washed up at the sink. He went to the tray of brownies on the counter and picked one up with a big sigh. “Fun night?”
He jumped and whacked his head against the cabinet above, hissing before he spun around.
“You okay?” you asked. He nodded and left the brownie behind, pushing his sleeves up before taking a seat on the other end of the lounger.
“Y/N I’m really sorry about the kiss on the cheek. That was so inappropriate. You’ve kinda implied that there was some stuff that’s happened to you at other jobs you found over the line and I’m really truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t...I forgot you’re my employee for a moment. I really am sorry.”
“Jensen if I had a problem with it or you or your behavior I would quit on the spot. I don’t let myself get pushed around anymore. You were happy and busy and you pecked a kiss on my cheek, not reach a hand down my pants. It’s really okay. You’re way too hard on yourself.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Positive. It’s barely ten which means you left as soon as you could. You’re supposed to be out having fun,” you said.
“I was kinda freaking out that you hated me,” he said.
“Dude you gotta relax,” you said. “Have a brownie and some ice cream.”
He got up and after a minute took a seat at the other end with a bowl of his own, smiling as he got a taste.
“This is fucking awesome,” he said.
“I know,” you said, Jensen smirking. “Do you feel better now silly boy? I promise that if you ever do anything I find inappropriate I will promptly kick you in the balls.”
“I can agree to that,” he said. He ate for a moment, watching the TV and laying back. “Do you ever like, want to go do things with your friends on a Saturday night? If you do that’s totally cool. These aren’t normal hours anyways.”
“Being a nanny eats up a lot of your social life,” you said. “Kinda got kicked out of my friend group after I broke up with my ex anyways.”
“Well they sound like they suck,” he said.
“Yes, they do,” you said. “I don’t mind so much. I meet plenty of new people through work. Only person you can depend on is yourself and I don’t tend to let myself down.”
“That’s a very lonely way to go through life,” he said.
“It’s not easy to make friends in your thirties,” you said. “Maybe for someone like you who travels and meets new people a lot and stuff but you have like, real friendships. You know?”
“Well we have a real friendship, don’t we? You’re friends with Jared and Rob and Ruthie and Rich,” he said. “I don’t trust just anybody with my kids. That’s real.”
“Yeah,” you said, taking a bite. “So when’s your friend free?”
“Hm?”
“Blind date guy. Maybe he could be a friend if things work out,” you said.
“Oh yeah. He uh, he actually got a gig up in Canada so you might need to wait like a month or so. But he’s excited to meet you,” said Jensen.
“Can I have his number?” you asked. “Or do you think that’d be weird?”
“No, not weird. I think he just kinda wants to do it old school if that’s okay. Meet you first and go from there.”
“This friend of yours better be like super hot,” you said.
“If it’s a problem-“
“I can respect him wanting to do things like that. But I’m gonna want a firm date soon,” you said.
“I’ll make sure to get you one,” he said. “I’ll get it down tomorrow, promise.”
“He better not mind me eating like this either. I ain’t a salad on the first date kinda girl. He’s gonna need to keep up with my eating while were at it,” you said. He snorted in his seat beside you and ran his hand over his face.
“I will keep that in mind. I have occasionally had dessert first truth be told,” he said.
“This is why I like you Ackles. You get my sweet tooth,” you laughed.
“It’s a good thing your dinners are healthy cause I swear I haven’t consumed this many baked goods in months,” he said. “The kids love it and my stomach loves it though.”
“I’m gonna need to start working out though if I keep this up. Oh hey is it okay if I do laps in the pool in the mornings? I’ll be super quiet and stuff.”
“You don’t gotta ask,” he smiled. “Like I said when you started, you got free reign to use the pool, the gym, whatever, aside from my room. You a swimmer?”
“Not really but I hate running and supposedly it’s a good workout or something,” you shrugged, eating another bite of brownie.
“Anything in the gym you’re free to use. I know you must get a little bored sometimes when I’m gone and the kids are,” he said.
“Not bored per say. Ordinarily I would do more chores but you have like a cleaner and a landscaper and you just...give me more time in the day than I’m used to is all. It’s actually great though. It gives me plenty of time to come up with ideas for the kids and stuff.”
“Well as long as you’re taking breaks and your lunch do as you please,” he said, his spoon scraping the bottom of his bowl.
“Now that’s just sad.”
“I really should get another one of these,” he said, sucking the spoon.
“It’s really the only choice you have,” you said. He laughed as he hopped up, skirting back into the kitchen and fixing up another brownie and ice cream combo.
“Hey you want more, Dee?” he asked. You popped your head up and he spun around. “I’m-“
“Don't apologize, Jensen,” you said. He tapped his fingers against the counter and took a deep breath, putting his back to you.
“That’s the second time tonight I’ve done that,” he said. 
“Jensen. There’s nothing wrong with missing your wife.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“You don’t...talk about her much.”
“It was...she wasn’t…” he trailed off. He sat down on a barstool and you got up, walking over and hopping up on the counter beside him. You set your feet in the stool next to his and paused before you put a hand on top of his head and ran your fingers through the short strands. “This shouldn’t have happened to her.”
“Death is the price for living. Pain’s the price for caring. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth it,” you said. You started to move your hand away when he turned his head. 
“Don’t…” he said, easing when you played with it gently again. “That’s always calmed me down since I was a little kid.”
“Someone should take care of you every once in a while you know. Your parents, siblings, friends. Everyone needs a break.”
“I had a lot of help at the beginning. I don’t need a whole day. Just a moment here and there,” he said quietly.
“It’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. He nodded and you played with his hair a few moments, watching his shoulders ease. This time when you pulled away he smiled up at you. “Better?”
“Yeah. Thank you. That’s not in your job description to do that sort of thing.”
“Well I think your wife would want somebody to watch your back, even for only a minute or two,” you said.
“You don’t have any brain aneurysms I should know about, do you?” he chuckled. 
“No. That what happened?” you asked, a single nod coming from him.
“She was sleeping. Not a bad way to go I was told, you’d never even know,” he said. “Not a fun thing to wake up to in the morning though.”
“My dad had a mass at the back of his head. It was that same kind of thing where one second it’s fine and the next everything’s different deal. It was inoperable. Then he goes and dies from a car accident of all things before it got bad. My mom had a hard time with that.”
“You said she had a boyfriend later on right?” he asked.
“Yeah. I know you’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. You ruffled his hair and he smiled, a soft look on his face. “Pro tip too from someone who’s been there, kids with a single parent turn out just fine.”
“Do they ever wish they had another parent?” he asked.
“They wish the parent they still have around is happy again someday. They won’t understand until they’re older that it’s a different kind of love between parents. But they’ll know it’s a little different and they’ll hope dad feels better too. Your kids are tough. They’ll be okay too.”
“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. You hopped off the counter and washed up your dish, sticking it in the dishwasher before you went to leave for your room. “So I gotta ask. Who takes care of you?”
“Me?” you asked, pointing to yourself. He shrugged and smiled, your gaze going past him. “I’m all good. I don’t need somebody to take care of me.”
“Liar,” he said softly. “You know my friend tells me everybody needs to be taken care of sometimes.”
“That’s the difference between us Jensen. You’re not like me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed, his face scrunching up suddenly.
“It means you’re not on your own and even if you feel like it, it’s only been a little while. You’ll be okay. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was a kid. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
“You haven’t lived my life and I haven’t lived yours. Don’t try to tell me that I’m not capable of-”
“It’s not about what you’re capable of. You said pain is part of life, it’s the price for living. You’ve had more than your fair share-”
“Lots of people have it a lot worse.”
“Don’t compare your pain to someone else's. They haven’t lived your life,” he said. You rolled your eyes and started to walk away, Jensen out of his seat and catching up with you in the hall. “You can be taken care of too you know.”
“By who? My non-existent circle of friends? My crappy ex? My mom’s ex boyfriend who’s got his own wife and kids? I am perfectly fine managing all of this by myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“You’re so frustratingly annoying,” he said, running his hand over his face. “Me. I’m talking about me. You just...you took care of me tonight. The least I can do is show you the same compassion.”
“No,” you said.
“No? Why not?”
“Because taking care of me turns into you walking into my shower without my permission and you being a dick and this going away and I don’t want you to be those things so no. We’re getting too friendly. Please leave me alone tomorrow.”
You left him in the hall and went down to your area of the house, shutting the door after you. There was quickly a knock and you growled, ripping it open.
“What?” you snapped at him.
“I am not going to hurt you or be a dick to you or whatever else you think. You need to realize in the real world, not everyone is an asshole.”
“You’re the one not living in the real world then, Jensen. Everybody’s an asshole.”
“Fine. I’m an asshole. But I’m not leaving until you say I can take care of you tomorrow. Two minutes is all I’m asking for.”
“This is my part of the house.”
“And technically I am outside your door,” he said. “Why are you so resistant to somebody doing something nice for you?”
“Because I don’t wanna get used to it,” you said. He stared and you shook your head. “You’re attractive and an actor and kind and funny and it’s not a matter of if you date again but when and when that day comes, we ain’t gonna be sitting on the couch eating ice cream anymore. Please do not invite me to anymore outings as a friend. I’ll attend if required as a nanny but this between us is done.”
“For the record, the only one around here that thinks of you as just the hired help is you. My children are completely like their old selves. I feel more like my old self. You seem happier than when I met you but for some reason, that’s a big problem to you. I do not understand that.”
“Leave or I resign and move out first thing,” you said. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “This is my formal resignation then. The company will-”
He moved quickly and you weren’t sure what he was doing at first but soon you realized he was hugging you, your hands resting against his chest. You swallowed and he didn’t move, your forehead resting against him.
“What are you doing?” you breathed out.
“When’s the last time you got a fucking hug?” he asked.
“The kids-”
“Not the kids.”
“I don’t remember,” you said quietly. 
“Then you are overdue,” he said. You let yourself reach your arms around him and return the hug, breathing deeply, a small bubble in you rising up. You tried to push it down but it came back harder and you were fighting back tears before you knew it. 
He could feel when you lost that battle, hand rubbing up and down your back. There was a soft shushing in the air and after a few minutes you felt better. You lifted your head but didn’t look at him, Jensen squeezing you in his hug again before it eased.
“You know you’re not allowed to quit on me...like ever,” he chuckled. You let out a small laugh, Jensen smiling at you when you forced your head up. He wiped off your cheeks and you let out one last sniffle. “You’re not alone. I promise you’re not. It’s not the quantity of people you have in your life but the quality and I’m sorry but we are friends and there’s nothing you can do about that so I’d just accept it now.”
“I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”
“You were scared, not a bitch,” he said. “I wish I could make you happier is all.”
“I wish I could bring back your wife for you,” you said.
“One of those is a lot more possible than the other,” he said. A small smile crossed his lips before he ducked his head down, shoulders heaving back before his head raised. “Y/N, can I confess something to you? I hope...I hope it doesn’t bother you but if it does, you don’t have to continue working for me. I’d still like to be friends regardless.”
“What’s wrong?” you asked, Jensen looking past you.
“My single friend I was going to set you up with? He doesn’t exist.”
“Oh.”
“Cause he’s kinda me.”
“Oh,” you said, staring at him, a lot of his previous behavior starting to click into place. “That’s…”
“I know,” he said, stepping away and rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s weird and douchey and I’m sorry. I like you and I was trying to see if you would ever go for a 42 year old actor. I left out the widow and kids part but...I’m sorry.”
“When did you like me?” you asked quietly.
“The whole time?” he said, laughing nervously to himself. “It’s kinda snowballed since we met. I never in my life thought I’d like someone again. I didn’t want to like you. I hired you because you were the best candidate and I knew the kids would be in good hands but everyday it’s there, even more, and I know this is so inappropriate on so many levels and I’m really starting to ramble here but you make me think maybe your mom had a point and people are allowed to have...more than one…and sometimes the way you talk to me and treat me and look at me...” 
He swallowed as you stepped in front of him, taking a quick breath. 
“I will keep working for you and I’ll be your friend...and you can make me dinner tomorrow,” you said with a smile. “We’ll see where it goes from there?”
“You’re not...weirded out?” he asked.
“By your age, you’re my boss or the cheeky lying about a fake friend?” you said.
“All of the above.”
“Age doesn’t bother me. You have no idea how to be a boss, no offense, and the friend...I don’t blame you for wanting to test the waters first,” you said. “But I expect honesty from here on out.”
“Absolutely,” he said.
“Good,” you said.
“You do like me right?” he asked. “Like you don’t feel obligated or-”
“I like you Jensen. Why do you think I was trying to push you away before you got too close? I didn’t want to be hurt.”
“Give me a chance to not,” he said. “We can have dinner and see how it goes from there.”
“Normally the best course of action,” you said.
“But maybe with a few more hugs from now on,” he said. “For the both of us.”
“That’d be okay with me,” you said. He smiled and you returned it. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”
“I guess you will,” he said. He turned to go when he spun back on his heels. “Or we could go back out there, eat way too much dessert and hang out?”
“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Give me a minute to wash up my face.”
“Take all the time you want. I’m gonna change into something more comfortable anyways.”
He left and you washed off your face in the bathroom, drying it off and taking a deep breath.
You did like him. There was something calming about him to you and you enjoyed his company, even if it was just the two of you having a quiet cup of coffee in the morning.
But he was an actor. And kinda famous. And a widow. And had three kids. 
“But your face is cute,” you said aloud, looking the mirror. “Gah, of course you have to be like...into me. Nutjob. He must be a nutjob. That’s it.”
“Y/N?” you heard him saying and you smacked yourself in the face. “Are you talking to yourself?”
“Uh, yeah,” you said, stepping out and seeing him in the hall sporting a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt. “That was fast.”
“Well I didn’t go through an eight step skin routine too,” he chuckled.
“For your information, my routine is only three steps,” you said, walking past him and waggling your fingers.
“I didn’t realize I was living with such a savage,” he said. You laughed and went back to the kitchen, making up another dish of brownie for him while he went over to where he kept his liquor. “You a bourbon kind of girl?”
“Is there any other kind?” you said.
“Touche.” He poured out two glasses and slid one over while you passed his bowl to him. “So what’s this three step routine? Do I need to up my game or what?”
“I think I need your routine, not the other way around,” you said.
“Nah. I like looking at your face more than mine. Trust me.”
“Oh. How long you been holding back those kinds of comments?” you teased.
“Longer than you’d think,” he said, sharing the bowl with you. “Feel okay now?”
“Yeah. I can’t remember the last time I cried,” you said. “Especially in front of someone.”
“A good cry session has never hurt in my experience. I’ll do it for work and stuff but normally I’m not much of one. Aside from the past six months I mean.”
“Are you ready to try this?” you asked.
“Yeah. I know I am,” he said. “I’m positive of it.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because you make me happy. You make me...want to do stuff again, believe in all the romantic...if I wasn’t ready, I’d feel guilty. But I don’t. I just know that maybe some people get more than one chance and maybe I’m one of them.”
“I know you are, whoever it ends up being,” you said.
“Are you ready to try this?”
You took a drink and bite of ice cream, pushing the bowl back.
“I miss my family,” you said. “I miss being happy. I’d like to...have someone that could take care of me for a moment every once in a while. I might mess that up sometimes but I’m willing to try.”
“Me too,” he said. “I’d expect some screw ups on this end too. I’ve been out of the dating game for a long time.”
“I’m sure it hasn’t changed all that much,” you said.
“Well I’ve never dated with kids and as a widow,” he said.
“I’m just in this for them to be honest,” you laughed. 
“I see how it is,” he said with a smirk. 
“I don’t think it’ll be as hard as you think,” you said.
“I hope not,” he said. 
“Do they know? You want to date?”
“JJ does,” he said. “She’s little but she understands that it doesn’t mean I’ll never love her mother any less. She’s been strangely okay through this whole thing aside from the first few weeks. She helps her brother and sister out more now.”
“As someone who was that kid, minus the siblings, I know they’ll be okay. She’s a great kid. I’ve met plenty of spoiled brats. Yours are not.”
“Well that might just be the second best thing I’ve heard tonight,” he said.
“Whatever was the first?” you teased, eating a spoon of ice cream.
“Oh I think you know,” he said, stealing the spoon back. You smiled and heard some feet run around upstairs before the stairs creeped and a little head ducked down into view. “Arrow. It’s bedtime sweetie.”
“I had a accident,” she said. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for, honey,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Want help?” you asked.
“Sure,” he said. He scooped up Arrow on the way up the stairs, setting her down in the kids bathroom. He got some clean pajamas and you found a pair of pull ups, Arrow pouting at you. 
“I don’t need ‘em,” she said.
“Your brother wears them. I wore them and your mommy and daddy wore them. Everybody wears pull ups when they’re your age,” you said.
“Just tonight,” she said, stepping into them. Jensen walked past with the mattress liner and she was dressed by the time you heard the washer going off in the distance. You walked her back to bed, Jensen slipping in past you and tucking her in. “Night daddy.”
“Night sweetie,” he said, kissing her temple. 
“Night Y/N,” she said.
“Night night kiddo,” you said, giving her a tiny wave before you left, Jensen flipping off her light and pulling the door shut. 
“Come here a second,” he said, nodding and you saw him head towards his room. The double doors were open and you stepped inside, Jensen going past the bed and over to a set of french doors. He pushed one open and waved for you to follow, showing you out to a rooftop balcony.
“Wow,” you said, a set of chairs, a table and a lounger out there along with a whole lot soft string lights. “I didn’t realize you had this up here.”
“Kinda a place to go unwind, relax,” he said. “I disappear out here sometimes. Been out here a lot at night lately.”
“Thinking about what?” you asked.
“You,” he said. “I talk to Dee about you sometimes as crazy as that sounds.”
“Doesn’t sound crazy at all,” you said.
“I just wanted to say...this area isn’t off limits anymore. Nothing is,” he said. 
“She asked you out, didn’t she,” you said with a smile. He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “You’re cute.”
You leaned up and kissed his cheek, heading back towards inside.
“Come on, Jensen. Before the ice cream melts on us.”
_______
A/N: Read Part 4 here!
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alrightberries · 4 years
Text
dante’s inferno
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request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺
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❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader
❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k
❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.
alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)
❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.
a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.
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Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.
Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
i. first terrace: pride
“We’re not keeping it.”
“But why?”
“We’re not keeping it.”
“But why.”
Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.
He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.
“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“
“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”
“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”
“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.
“You named it?”
“Dante is not an ‘it’.”
Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.
“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.
“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”
Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).
But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.
You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.
Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.
You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
ii. second terrace: envy
Levi is not jealous. He’s not.
At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.
It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.
When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.
Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.
“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.
“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”
“He was in my spot.”
“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”
“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”
“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”
“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”
“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”
“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”
“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”
He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.
You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.
Your lip twitches upward.
“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”
“Shut up and play with my hair.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
iii. third terrace: wrath
“You owe me a new cravat.”
You blink up at your roommate. “What?”
“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.
“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.
“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”
“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“
“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”
You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.
“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”
Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—
“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.
Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.
“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”
“You will pay me in cash.”
“Fuck, fine!”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
iv. fourth terrace: sloth
Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—
“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”
He stops typing and grits his teeth.
This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.
“Fuck if I care.”
“Do you think it was something I did?”
He resumes typing. “Yes.”
“Do you think he’ll come back?”
“No.”
“Even after all we’ve been through?”
“Still no.”
“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”
“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”
It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.
He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—
“Levi do you think Dante-“
“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.
“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.
“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”
Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.
Great. Just fucking great.
Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.
Could it be?
“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.
Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.
You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”
“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”
“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”
“I do.” He replies instantly.
“Then why’d you find him?”
“I hate him, not you.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
v. fifth terrace: avarice
“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.
Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.
“You especially.”
“Mrow?”
Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.
But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.
This is what he gets for trying to be nice.
“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.
“What the fuck happened?”
You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).
“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”
Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”
“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.
Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
vi. sixth terrace: gluttony
The clinic is still when you first entered.
The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.
Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.
You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”
“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”
“Don’t tell me... is he—-”
“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”
The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.
“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”
“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”
Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”
He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.
His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.
Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.
Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
vii. seventh terrace: desire
There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.
The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.
Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.
But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—
“Levi, are you okay?”
His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.
“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.
He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.
God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.
“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.
“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”
Levi blinks. “What?”
“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”
“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.
It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.
The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.
Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
epilogue
The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.
“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”
You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.
Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.
“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”
“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”
“It’s different off-campus!”
“How?”
“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”
“Let’s do it, then.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.
“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”
You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.
“Hey— ow! What was that for?”
“You weren’t listening.”
“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”
He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.
Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”
Wait. What?
Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.
“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.
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yespolkadotkitty · 3 years
Text
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Chapter 1 ~ Chapter Two
Words: 1300 ~ Warnings: self-deprecating thoughts; Tovar needs his own warning
Pairing: Pero Tovar x female!doctor!reader
Thanking my dear spouse @songsformonkeys for the beta!
*******
He likes this new world, does he? You think irritably as you microwave some mac and cheese. Let’s see how he likes microwaved food.
The machine dings and you yank open the door. The aroma of cheese and freeze-dried bacon fills the room, and even though you know the meal will have almost zero nutritional value, your stomach rumbles anyway.
You flick the TV on to an old episode of Judge Judy. On screen, Judy is berating a contractor for drawing genitalia on the outside of the house he built for a client who didn’t pay, saying the man had weakened his case.
The fee-dodging client argued that the “unseemly large” penis drawn on his front door had given his wife a case of the vapours.
The contractor countered that perhaps the client’s wife had just never seen an impressive wang before.
You snorted, half-listening as you decanted the mac and cheese into two bowls.
“I can hear that cursing has not changed much, if this truly is the future, si?”
Looking up, you saw Tovar standing in the doorway, a towel around his hips, slung there carelessly, as if a stylist had draped it just so, for maximum allure.
His hair curled damply, just enough to be rakish. Combined with his scowly lip and the scar across his left eye, the whole picture was very Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time meets Westley from The Princess Bride.
You swallow. Your heart bumps.
“It was, uh, the TV.”
“Tee.. vee?”
Oh, this should be good, you think cynically.
“C’mere and look,” you suggest sweetly.
That gets you a closer look at his broad, bare chest, scattered with scars, some raised and pink, some faded brown, criss-crossed on an expanse of gold-kissed skin.
The towel creeps down a little as he moves, and he settles a hand on his hip to hold it steady. Dammit.
You catch a glimpse of the top of the crease between his ass cheeks. Shame he isn’t facing you - you might have seen a little of the happy trail to his-
“I have never seen the like of this in my life. I wish William were here to see!” Tovar exclaims, brows furrowed as he turns to you.
“You hungry?”
His eyes darken and you briefly imagine what it would feel like if he looked at you like that - desire stark on his face. It would be powerful, for sure. Would knock you off your feet with its force.
“Si, bella.”
“You don’t need to say that, by the way. Bella. I know it isn’t true.”
“What did you say?” His voice is very low, and he looks dangerous despite the low-slung hot pink towel. 
“Don’t make this hard by playing a fool,” you grouse. “I know I’m easily ignored in the street, okay? I don’t need it drummed into me.”
In two breaths he is beside you, so tall and broad, and you inhale sharply at the shower-damp scent of him, of the heat coming off his skin. Tiny beads of water glisten on his neck. His very biteable neck.
“Who told you this?” He demands, cupping your chin, narrowing his gaze. His hand is warm and rough. “Who told you that you are less than a beauty carved by God himself, hmmm? I should like to introduce them to my sword.”
It’s flattering. Very flattering.
You swallow nervously. “Really, Tovar-”
“Do you have a looking glass in this future?” He demands.
Unable to look away from his gaze, you nod.
“Take me to it.”
The microwave beeps, reminding you that the mac and cheese is done, but you ignore it. Instead, you lead him to your bedroom, where you have a full-length mirror.
Tovar follows you, a grim set to his jaw. He positions you in front of him. “Tell me what you see.”
You can’t think beyond seeing him in that towel, most of him exposed, strong calves, a flat stomach, muscled biceps. “A - a woman. Me.”
He tuts. “Querida. I see so much more. A smart woman - a healer, after all, no? One who cares for others. With soft hair and kind eyes-”
“And a waspish tongue,” you joke.
“But that is good. A softer woman would be the pawn of unscrupulous rogues. You are a woman with her own mind, and that is a force to be reckoned with. There is fire in you, bella.”
You hold his gaze in the mirror, and think, if he tried to have sex with me now, I would absolutely not stop him.
“I-”
The microwave dings again. “Dinner’s ready,” you say, and force your mind back to reality. “Let’s eat. I have some men’s clothes you can put on.”
Tovar goes still. “You did not mention there was a man with a claim on you,” he says, each word measured.
“There isn’t. Not anymore, anyway. But he left some clothes behind, and I haven’t had time to burn them, so.”
He, perhaps wisely, says nothing to this.
You rummage around in the bottom drawer of your wardrobe and toss him a supermarket carrier bag. “Have at it.”
You stomp into the kitchen. Your mood hasn’t lifted any. You don’t feel you deserve his praise.
If only.
There’s no way a man like Tovar, with all his swagger, darkly handsome looks and presence, would fawn over you.
You’re dumping the mac and cheese into two bowls - twice as much for Tovar, you aren’t hungry anymore - when he appears in the doorway. Your ex was shorter and rounder than him, and the clothes fit poorly. The Spaniard has tied one corner of the baggy t-shirt on his left hip, and it gives him a very piratical air. You hope you aren’t drooling.
The sweatpants hang on his hips, but cling between his legs, leaving very little to the imagination.
Holy hell.
“You need assistance, bella?”
“No.” Not with the food, anyway.
You offer him a bowl and he moves towards you with a predator’s grace, and you wouldn’t mind being prey.
“What is this?” He accepts the bowl and pokes it dubiously with a fork.
You scowl. “There are two options for dinner tonight. Eat that, or go hungry.”
He shrugs in a very European way. “I have eaten much worse, that I can assure you. Thank you,” he adds, “for feeding and sheltering me. Many would have turned me out.”
He moves to the couch and raises a questioning eyebrow.
“Yeah, you can sit,” you sigh.
He does so. You watch as the fabric of the sweatpants pulls slightly over his ass.
You gulp more Riesling.
It’s going to be a long evening.
******
Story taglist: @allthe-ships @thepoisonofgod @havenforafrazzledmind @jazzelsaur @astroboots @mskitty79 @agingerindenial @joanbushur @lokiaddicted @scout-134 @djarinsimp @sassysparkles @dreadfulvee @lellowberry  @nabootycall @maryscarlett2u @captainfanfuck @cheek-lovely @tati-scape @grogusmum @f0rever15elf @littleferal @red-mando @mesmorales @recklessfangirl-blog @casualpalacebagelrascal @hows-my-hair @aspiringmezzo @marydjarin @otherthingsinhead @belfry-bat @giselatropicana @soapjay @mandostolemyheart @yoditostan @bat25wonder32super @the-ginger-hedge-witch @disgruntledspacedad @heatherbel @iwantadecentblogname @sheahoneygoth @dihra-vesa @pedro4ever @bakedcrispss @ladyyaya22​
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fatiguing-thoughts · 4 years
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Chaotic Imprint - Pack Preference
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Request: “Hey hey!! Can I have a preference for the pack having a younger kinda chaotic platonic imprint? 👀”
  I kinda changed it up a little bit, I didn’t make the reader younger as I always age the pack up a bit in my writing and I just wanted to keep it general. 
Jacob: 
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Jacob and you vibe well. He has his moments where he can match your chaotic energy, but overall is always worried that you’ll end up in a ditch or something. Overall, he will always end up agreeing as long as it makes you happy, so long as you’re safe in the end. Just like that time where you asked him to cliff jump with you on his back. 
“Yeah, it’s very reckless, dangerous even. But when do you wanna go?” He asks with a smile on his face.
“Uh, right now?” An ear to ear grin plasters itself across your face. 
“Let’s get going, you better hold on tight.” 
He’s just happy to see you happy, especially if he’s able to be the one to put the smile on your face. 
Seth: 
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Seth is known to be the soft, nice guy-- though he’s definitely one of the most playful people you know. He’s always down to go have some fun. Like Jacob, he’s willing to do anything to put a smile on your face. At first, he was a little worried about how disorderly and random your actions and speech were, but over time he understood it more. Eventually, he just stopped questioning a lot of your ideas and just went along with them, hoping for the best. 
“What if we tried to make an entirely new language… but only we get to know it?” You ask randomly at 3 in the morning, waking up Seth to do so.
“What? Right now? It’s three am, (Y/N).” 
“When else? Now’s the perfect time, my mind has been racing!” 
So that’s the only way you talked for the next few days, Seth was the token translator. It took you hours that night to make a language that worked for the both of you. 
Leah: 
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She had grown to be more open to new things and had a lot more fun since you came around. Leah was always down to follow your ideas, whether that meant you randomly calling her at 3 am to go for a drive to god knows where or if you wanted to show her something new and exciting. Though, she knew where to draw the line-- she was the voice of reason that you needed.
“(Y/N), maybe you should really think about this, is it really a good idea?” 
“But I don’t care if it’s a good idea, I’m curious!”
“Okay let me rephrase that-- it’s a horrible idea. I did the thinking for you, we aren’t doing it.” 
“But Leah…” 
“No, we are not going to see how long it takes for you to go into anaphylactic shock. I don’t care if you have your epipen with you.”
“Jared and I thought it was a fun idea.” 
“Jared? Where’s Jared?” She asks, narrowing her eyes. 
And just like that, she’s always what stops you from letting your really stupid ideas from coming to life, even if Jared encourages you anyway; but he usually gets his ass kicked for that. 
Paul: 
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Paul is a lot of fun, there’s nothing to argue with there. But sometimes, he might not think your ideas are as great or fun as you think. When he knows it’s something that’ll end poorly or get you hurt, he says that he doesn’t think you guys should do it and that he won’t help you or come with. 
“(Y/N), I think this might be too much. Let’s maybe do something else.” 
“Alright.” You sigh, sending a text on your phone.
“Are you talking to Quil and Jared?” 
“What?”
“Fine. I’ll do it.” 
“What? You just said…” 
“Nope, let’s go. We’ll do it.” 
He often just wants to make sure you’re safe and that he’s there to diffuse any situation. Uncertainty doesn’t sit with him well. Also, let’s face it-- Paul doesn’t share well. He’d rather suck it up and do whatever it is with you before you go do it with Jared and Quil instead. 
Embry: 
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Embry and you have a ton of fun. Always down for a random adventure. Random calls in the middle of the night to go out and have some fun.You spend a lot of time working on dirtbikes and taking them out for random trips. Overall, you spend a lot of your time together doing urban exploring, or as some may call it: trespassing in random abandoned buildings. You take pictures of each other doing crazy stuff, climbing onto things that definitely shouldn’t be climbed on. Due to his overall indestructibility and accelerated healing, he’s always the first one to try something to make sure it’s safe for you.
“Let’s climb onto the roof.” 
“We’d have to scale the building.” 
“Great thinking, how do we go about that?” 
“I don’t know. Get on my back and I’ll try to figure it out.” 
Quil: 
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Quil is absolutely thrilled that you’re on the chaotic side. He loves that you can keep up with him and that you guys could always have a lot of fun. You want to go mess with the guys? He’s down and he’s prepared to up the ante. He wants to go do something stupid? You’re down and ready to go nuts. You often go out and pull pranks on the rest of the pack. Just the other day you two decided to replace the Sunny D in Jared’s fridge with watered down kraft mac n cheese powder. Let’s just say, Jared chugged a lot before noticing, and Quil ended the day with a broken arm. 
“I’m sorry you have a broken arm.” 
“It’s alright, broken arms aren’t forever. They only last a day or so.” 
“You really take advantage of that accelerated healing, don’t ya bud?” 
“You bet. What’re we doing next?” 
“Let’s get Paul.” 
“I like the way you think.”  
Jared: 
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As one would assume, your guys’ energy bounces off one another like no tomorrow. You guys are an unstoppable force. Jared and you get along so well, always down for whatever shenanigan the other has planned, down to do whatever, whenever. Sam often has to step in and make sure nobody burns the house down. It’s one of those things where often enough, the pack doesn’t trust either of you to ever get anything done without breaking something else in the process. You tried to cook dinner together the other night, almost setting the entire kitchen on fire when you couldn’t stop messing around in the kitchen, spilling oil next to the stove. 
“Don’t tell Sam!” His eyes widen, cleaning up the oil and spraying the fire extinguisher.
“Don’t tell Sam what?” Sam asks, walking in, before turning right back around and walking straight out of the house.
“Fixed it.” He triumphantly states with an enormous smile on his face, fire extinguisher residue taking over the entire kitchen. 
Sam: 
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Sam is the dad friend, so it’s to no surprise that your chaotic energy is something that keeps him on edge. Despite him being used to the chaotic energy he deals with on a daily basis from the pack, he knows you’re not indestructible. He’s always trying to keep you grounded, but he does let you have your fun. Safety is his top priority, but understands that you’re going to have fun and he’s always there to have fun with you. Sam began to help you come up with and perform more tame and harmless pranks. Like today, we decided to move every piece of furniture three inches to the left and watched the rest of the pack enter the house very confused and a bit off balance. 
“Something feels… off.” Quil says, cautiously sitting down. 
“I don’t understand.” Jared says, tripping over the table that wasn’t normally there.
“How bizarre.” Sam says. 
“Yeah, how bizarre.” I look at him with a smirk. 
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deepseavibez · 3 years
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A Star In Your Sky || JJK
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-> Picture Source - Pinterest
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A Star In Your Sky [Jungkook]
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Genre - Dad!Jungkook; Angst; Sadness; Melancholy; Drabble:
Summary - Helpless as he was, 'what you didn't know couldn't hurt you'... it would have to do. There was nothing else he could do.
Warning - Angst; Sadness; Major Character Death;
Word Count - 1.7k
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Jungkook woke up with a start at the blaring alarm. 5am - his phone flashed in red numbers. Snoozing it, he left it back on the table.
The fog on the windows signifying a cold morning, the dreary grey clouds overcast, the edge of dawn.
Wiping the sleep out of his eyes he righted his shirt, pulling his sleeves over his cold hands, ruffling his hair as he stretched his limbs and swung them over the couch.
The cold hit his bare feet as he stood up and started his way down the hall, switching the lights on as he walked, to navigate his way to the room right next to his.
Door slightly ajar, he pushed on it, the slight creak a normal sound, a part of the surroundings, the many years behind the action of tuning it out.
His eyes fell past the threshold, items he knew by heart, colors he had committed to memory, the scent and the surroundings - his home.
The curtains in this room were purple, deep purple, the hue something akin to indigo, silver moons and stars shone at the catch of even the tiniest bit of light.
There were posters of cartoons, drawings in crayons and paints, a basket of toys in the corner of the room, and Cooky, the pink plush toy staring back on the made bed.
Eyes scanning the toy he remembered the day it came home.
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'Dad, look what Uncle Jinnie got me,' Moon ran up to him, as she giggled in excitement, eyes lighting up at the plush toy in her hand.
Turning toward the sound of his daughter, he bent down on one knee so she could hop into his waiting arms. He held her easily, her form tiny and stable in his muscled hands.
Her momentary glance to the tattoo on his skin, a second nature, something that made her smile, as her name had been carved into his forearm, stars surrounding it with a Saturn ring.
She was Daddy's little girl and she loved every moment of it.
Meeting her fathers eyes, she held up the pink bunny in her arms, a prize worth every drop of attention he could give.
Smiling bemused he asked her, 'What about all the other teddy's in your room, babygirl?'
He nosed at her cheek as he teased her.
Her eyes went as wide as saucers, 'Dad!' she exclaimed in a mock whisper, 'They aren't Teddy's, they all have names.'
'Yeah, Jk, how can you call them Teddy's,' Jin played along, just as scandalized at his dongsaengs choice of words.
Mouth twitching, the mole on his chin, shifting at the movement, he raised an eyebrow at his hyung, 'I'm surprised you didn't get her the RJ.'
'Now, now, I did explain the perks of having RJ, but she is Daddy's little girl.' They smiled, endeared with the toddler between them.
It was the last proper, happy outing they had, ice-cream, feeding the seagulls, playing in the sand, her best days with her father and her Uncle Jin.
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‘I don't care what happens to me, I don’t care about the money! Just please save my baby, please!’ Jungkook was enraged, angry at the world, helpless, desperate.
Stage 4. She was only a child, her tiny body fit in his arms, her form only half of him.
It came out of nowhere, severe bruising and bleeding when she fell down, or got cut. Trouble breathing when she ran, nausea when she ate and sometimes not wanting to eat at all. Waking up to her cries in the middle of the night, sniffling quietly, at the pains in her body.
Too many symptoms, too many blood tests later, too many restless, sleepless nights, she was diagnosed with leukemia.
There were weeks of waiting for results, test after test, of having to sit her in his lap, and explain why she needed to see countless doctors and that things would get better, that it was just for now.
But as he stood opposite her doctor, his hyung holding his shoulder, he had to go home and tell her he lied. He lied.
He'd have to tell her that there was no turning back, and if it was too late for his daughter, the love of his life, the very center of his world, for him, there would be no way forward.
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He stood at the doorway of her hospital room, having just gone home to change up and get her favorite mac and cheese. The sight he met every single time, not something he had gotten used to, despite the number of weeks he’d been at the forefront of it all.
The tubes along her face, her nose, in her arms, something a baby should never have to go through. A parent should never have to think about outliving their child. It wasn’t the cycle. It wasn’t fair.
She deserved, to hit double digits, to find love, to have him fight the need to protect her from every mistake, to always be there for her, she deserved friends, memories, the chance to discover hobbies, she deserved more time.
The saddest part was that she was too young to think of any of those things, and yet, maybe it could also be a blessing.
What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, right.
Blinking back tears he plastered a fake smile on his face, the brightest one he felt he could muster. ‘Hey, babygirl.’
She looked up, a small smile, slowly making its way up her cheeks, her face pale. Opening her mouth to speak, he shook his head at her. ‘No, no, shh, baby, don’t hurt your throat.’
Making his way over to her bed, he gingerly climbed in next to her, the nurses used to his presence, the doctors having no objection considering the care he had with her as he slotted himself protectively over her.
Pecking her on the head, he took note of the scrapbook in her hand. She looked at it everyday, pictures of her six loving uncles, Taehyung plaiting her hair, Jimin showing her tiny jewelry pieces, stick-ons for her ears, Namjoon with a bunch of block letters, a tower of it clearly having collapsed around them. Her Uncle Hobi always made her smile, as he had her on his back and his neck, walked her around the apartments like he was her personal chauffeur, Yooni holding her as she slept, light music playing in the background, and her Uncle Jin, her favourite Uncle Jin, always around, choosing school bags, spoiling her with anything she wanted, anything that caught her eye, especially morning blueberry waffles and her dad, Jungkook, her dad, the youngest, the one with the most time, the most allowance to make reckless decisions, the one who adapted his whole life around her inclusion in his life.
‘Hey, remember the story of your first birthday,’ His voice exuberant at her cake covered face,’when you didn’t want to wear the red jacket Uncle Tae gave you, and you cried for his instead,’ he petted her head as he searched her face for recognition.
She pouted at the mention of it, the story recounted so many times before,’Uncle Tae’s jacket was purple, Dad. How could I not want it,’ Her cheekiness earned her a light flick to her nose.
She upturned it crossly, a little zest in her eyes at the familiar chastising.
They paused, looking at each other, before the smile slowly disappeared from her face, the reaction apparently contagious as Jungkook sat up in concern. ‘Dad,’ she started softly, her eyes trained on the blanket covering her legs, ’are you gonna forget me?’
Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat at the innocent question, striving to show no reaction on his face. Moving swiftly, he worked his way around the cables and maneuvered her into his lap. They tried, he tried, and she had been so strong but even at her tender age she knew it, he knew it, the time for sugar coated words, and false hopes were over, acceptance was all that was left.
‘Close your eyes,’ he prompted, wiping tears he could no longer hold back, away from his eyes.‘Can you see me?’
‘My eyes-,’
‘No, keep them closed, can you see me,’ he reiterated, beside himself.
‘No, I can’t see you.’
‘But you can hear me right,’ taking note of her face, her nose, her cute cheeks, he waited for her answer.
‘Yes, I can hear you.’
‘Well,’ he sniffled, head falling against her forehead lightly, the contact needed, ’that’s what it will be like. I will always be here for you. I will always talk to you, and I promise,’ his hand found hers and squeezed it, ’I will never forget you. You may not see me and I may not see you, but you will always be the biggest part of me. And I promise, I will never, ever, forget you.’
He broke at his last words, pulling her into his embrace, holding his Moon, wishing with everything he had left, he would never have to let her go.
Moon passed that night, in her sleep, in his arms, as painless as it could possibly be. Knowing what was going to happen, couldn’t have prepared Jungkook for the real thing. But he knew he had to let go of her lifeless body, he knew he had to call the one person who could handle him or whatever came next for him, and as soon as he saw his Jin hyung, the one that named his perfect girl, he fell into his arms and cried, as his heart shattered into pieces.
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Standing at doorways were his thing these days, he thought, everything he did was not enough, not too much, like sitting on the fence, falling in the middle.
It had been a year, but he couldn’t clean out this room, he still woke up at 5am despite his flexible job because he had to take care of her routine, maybe someday he would have to stop coming in here, but right now, the made bed, the unused room, the stillness of it all, would remind him that even for a time, he had something beautiful, something worth all that pain, a human that he would meet someday again.
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pillage-and-lute · 4 years
Note
Hey I have a holiday prompt for you! What if it’s the pairing’s first holiday together and they stress about figuring out what to get each other? Any pairing you feel like! PS Reading your stuff never fails to put a smile on face!💜💜💜
Hi Blondey!
cute shit ahead. Modern AU
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“Yen,” I swear,” Geralt panted into the phone. “It’s an emergency. Please, I need your help.”
“No.”
“Yen please I’m actually begging.”
“You should have thought to beg before Christmas Eve.”
“I’m meeting him tonight, Yennefer, I’m on Wilson Street, with all the shops and I’m so lost, please.”
“No.”
“I’ll set you up with Jaskier’s hot friend. The one from the coffee shop. She’s single.”
“...I’m on my way.”
-- -- -- Across Town, Triss and Jaskier’s Apartment -- -- -- 
“I just thought I’d have more time to get him a gift,” Jaskier wailed, draped dramatically over Triss’ beat up armchair. “And then it was thanksgiving, then finals and it’s Christmas eve and I don’t have a gift.”
“Well,” Triss said, sipping her cocoa and barely looking up from her book. “It’s not noon yet, shops aren’t all closed. What kind of gift does your relationship need?”
“What?” Jaskier looked up from his flop of despair, confused. 
“I mean, if you’d been dating for a month it would be slippers or some scotch or something.”
“We’ve been dating eight months though!” Jaskier wailed. “I love him, Trissy, desperately. I see his face and everything goes all pink and mushy.”
“You should get that checked out.”
“No, I mean,” Jaskier sat up and looked at her. “I think he could be the one. He might be it for me.”
Triss looked up from her book. She’d known Jaskier since university, and his heart had always been so mobile, but there was something shining in his eyes. She shrugged mentally. Put it down to a Christmas miracle, but Jaskier was really in love.
“What does he like?”
Jaskier huffed. “He likes being grumpy.”
“And?”
“Me.” He paused for thought. “His horse, Roach, he loves riding. He loves his goddaughter, and mythology.”
“Lord of the Rings nerd?”
“Oh you have no idea, he’s basically Aragorn if Aragorn had albinism.”
“I know a place,” Triss said, getting up. “Put on your coat.”
“Will it be open?” Jaskier asked anxiously, pulling his boots on.
“They live above the shop,” Triss said, throwing his scarf at him. “I know the owners, I’ll just shoot them a text.”
-- -- -- Back on the other side of town -- -- --
“Okay,” Yennefer said. “And you’re sure the hot barista is single?”
“Triss,” Geralt said. “And yes, apparently she’s been crying about it to Jaskier for ages.”
“Right, let’s go looking,” Yennefer said, looking remarkably cheerful.
The rows of shops were mostly open for last minute shoppers and Geralt and Yennefer fought through them. 
Well, Geralt fought. Yennefer just glared and people moved out of her way. 
“Does he cook?” Yennefer asked, pointing at a cookware store.
“Ramen and box mac n cheese,” Geralt said.
“You said he likes clothes?” A very full store with what could only be called hipster clothing.
“He has lots of clothes I want something...special,” Geralt said. He was trying not to lose hope.
“You really like this one.”
“I do, you met him he’s just...bright,” Geralt said, mumbling a little into his scarf as the wind blew a flurry at him.
“Hey, look at the music shop on the corner,” Yenn said. “I’m down here all the time, I’ve never noticed it before.”
Neither had Geralt. “Is it new?” It didn’t look new. It looked nearly condemned.
“You said he loves music,” Yennefer said, stomping in the direction of the store.
“I dunno, that store looks...”
“He loves music,” she said. “And you love him.”
They entered the store.
-- -- -- Triss and Jaskier -- -- --
“How the hell did you find this place?”
“I told you,” Triss said, matter of factly. “I know the owners. They’ll be down any minute to open it up.”
“They’re opening it up just for us?” Jaskier asked guiltily. It was Christmas eve after all.
“They owe me,” Triss said. “I introduced them. Well...reintroduced.”
“Welcome to The Sword in the Stone, Gifts and Novelties,” grinned a young man with very blue eyes and slightly large ears, opening the door. Behind him a blonde young man grinned cheerfully too, he was wearing a santa hat.
“Hi,” Jaskier said, stepping gratefully inside. “It’s a pleasure, I’m Jaskier.”
“Merlin,” said the young man who’d opened the door. 
“Arthur,” the blonde waved.
“Seriously?”
The pair just shrugged. Well, Jaskier, called Buttercup/Dandelion/Julian/a lot of other things, wasn’t about to tell people what to call themselves.
“I hear you need a gift for that special someone,” the blonde -Arthur- said, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Yeah, he loves fantasy stuff and I just... I don’t know what to get him.”
“Gotcha,” Arthur began to lead him back into the shop. Merlin and Triss were chatting by the door. 
“Were you thinking bigger, got a lovely cardboard cutout of Viggo Mortensen?”
Jaskier pictured Aragorn watching them have sex from the corner of Geralt’s little studio apartment. “Maybe smaller but kind of...niche?”
“Lucky you, this place if full of niche,” Arthur said cheerfully. 
Jaskier looked at the wall full of swords and was that a battle axe? “Yeah...”
“Does he wear jewelry?” asked Arthur, jingling a box full of metal in Jaskier’s direction.
“Not really,” Jaskier said. Then something caught his eye. “Wait...” he pulled something out of the box and held it up to the light.
Somehow...it was perfect.
“How much.”
-- -- -- Yen and Geralt -- -- --
“This place looks closed,” Geralt whispered to Yennefer, looking around at the racks of instruments.
“Not closed dearie, just dusty,” came a cheerful voice from right behind Geralt. He and Yennefer jumped.
“Sorry honeys,” said a little old lady with coke bottle glasses. “Got my slippers on, makes me quiet. She shuffled one foot, clad in pink fluff, off the floor as exhibit A. “Gift from my great grandson, aren’t they darling? Now,” she looked at Geralt with laser intensity. “You’d be needing a gift.”
“Um, yes ma’am,” Geralt said. How had she known?
“Ooohoo you need a gift,” said the tiny old woman, “Cause you’s a boy in love.” She nearly cackled. “Follow me honeys!”
Geralt and Yennefer looked at each other, shrugged, and followed. What choice did they have?
“Got a harp,” the shopkeeper called cheerfully. It was indeed a full, standing, concert harp. It had a figurehead on it but the face looked absolutely agonized.
“Maybe not,” Geralt said.
“Hmmm no,” said the lady, shuffling her fluffy slippers. “Bagpipes?”
“He lives in an apartment.”
“That’ll be a no, then,” said the woman, peering at a rack of instruments in the corner. “Aha!” she shrieked, startling Geralt and Yennefer both. 
“This!”
It was perfect.
“I can’t afford it,” Geralt said, feeling hopeless.
“Oh yes you can,” said the little old lady gleefully, if she could Geralt got the sense she would be jumping and clicking her heels. “Nobody wants ‘em these days, this one’s seventy-five percent off!”
Geralt left with a weird shaped package.
-- -- -- Geralt’s studio apartment, evening -- -- --
“Hey,” Jaskier, said, stomping his boots on the mat.
“Hi,” Geralt replied, stealing a kiss. “What’d you tell Triss?”
“Told her I was sending a gift, what’s you tell Yennefer?”
“She’s heading over there now,” Geralt said. “With that movie they both like.”
“Ocean’s 8?”
“That’s the one, and a plate of homemade Christmas cookies.”
Jaskier smiled at Geralt and stole another kiss. “We’re never going to have a moment of peace, now we set them up,” he said. Geralt grinned at him. “Never, but I think we did the right thing.”
They settled in on Geralt’s little loveseat. Jaskier set a wrapped present on the side table. Beside it, on the floor, was a very poorly wrapped mess. Lots of scotch tape was visible. It was quite large.
Jaskier felt panicky.
“Should we,” Geralt said awkwardly. “Do you want to exchange presents now?”
“Sure.” Oh god, Geralt’s gift was so small, and what if he hated it?
“You first?” Geralt said, handing over the odd package.
Jaskier had always been a rip-it-open present person, but he took his time, although there was no salvaging the taped up paper.
“A lute?” he turned to Geralt in delight, face lighting up.
“A lute,” Geralt said. “Is-is that a good thing?”
“Oh my god, Geralt, yes! Oh I love it! I can’t wait to learn it!” Jaskier dropped kisses all over Geralt’s face, careful of his new baby.
He handed Geralt the little package. “It’s not as great but...”
Geralt was a folding kind of person and folded up the wrapping paper carefully, then he opened the box and took out the amulet with the silver wolf’s head.
“Oh,” Geralt said.
Oh. Was that a good oh or a bad oh? Jaskier tried to breathe slowly.
“Jaskier I...” 
Oh no. He hated it.
“It’s perfect.”
What?
“When I was little I thought I’d be a knight,” Geralt said, pale eyes shining. “And I drew wolf’s heads on everything, my crest, I said.”
Geralt was holding up the amulet as if transfixed. 
“Vesemir can show you, he kept the drawings,” Geralt said. Then he slipped the medallion over his head.
“My knight,” Jaskier said. “My wolf.”
Geralt gave a playful growl. Jaskier’s heart thumped a little harder. Geralt must have picked up on something in his eyes because he cocked his head.
“Oh?” he rumbled, low in his chest. “You want a wolf, do you?” He growled again.
Jaskier leapt up, shrieking with laughter and ran to hide in the bathroom. Geralt caught up before he could close the door.
“I’ll huff and I’ll puff,” he said, dragging Jaskier closer and giving him a bear hug. He growled in Jaskier’s ear.
“And I’ll blow your...how does it go?”
“I’m not sure, wolfie,” Jaskier said, pulling Geralt closer by the amulet. “But I think it ends with you eating me all up.”
It was a very merry Christmas indeed.
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Ope! Idiots! With a random appearance from BBC’s Merlin (In 2020? I guess.) and a little old lady. + the magic of christmas.
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dazenightmare · 4 years
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I am gonna stay a lot longer due to this became my safe haven and honestly i think you should make a seperate blog for it like. Dude this is so much potentials and it needed to be spread i been thinking of making an fanart for everyone on the Dream SMP Supermarket AU since i can draw just not digital mhh... What else oh right i felt this is gonna be a hilarious sitcom like The Office or something yeah i only knew The Office since i am not an American mhh... What else oh right what the Dream SMP Characters thoughts on other stores like Hermitcraft Store and others such It probably blown their mind once they entered it and organized like a library and decided to cuz a little mayhem which make them being Chased by Grian i think Grian is the only one i have seen name from the tags here on Tumblr I'll probably look into it. Oh right and the Helper War happened it probably catch the whiff of a reporter on nearby as he brusted into the doors wearing a Helmet and Bulletproof vest with a printed white text "MEDIA" and it have spoken "Breaking News, a helper war are currently occur into your one store in town where the employees have-" before being run over by Tubbo in high speed roller blades And being cut off during the live broadcast and later in the morning the headlines on local news papers in their small town.
"Cameraman and Reporter being knock out after rolled over by the famous roller boy of Dream SMP Supermarket during Helper War" read more into Page 3.
with a blurred photo of Tubbo attached to it.
I’m glad my blog could be a safe haven!
I mean, I could make a separate blog for this if people want? I feel like that would be handy for the followers who most certainly did not sign up for this sudden increase in popularity
The first time any of them visited the Hermits store, it was just Tommy and Wilbur needing to go grocery shopping and not being able to go to their own store because the next shipment of mac&cheese wasn’t due for a week. They just look at the pristine and peacefulness of the store in complete shock, before deciding it was too peaceful and causing chaos as if it were their own store. None of the Hermits were happy with this
When the Helper War went down, there most certainly was a news reporter. They manage to get through a summary of what the Helper War was before Tubbo just quickly rolls between them and the camera, and the news man is just like, “dude, wait, point the camera at him”
And it just picks up Tubbo managing to get to a phone through all the chaos and just going onto the intercom with, “HEY!” which made everything stop before he went, “Are you done with your pissing contest now? Everybody better clean up their messes and go back to their departments, or else I will hunt them for sport, okay? Deli department, I’ll be with you to discuss what will be happening shortly. I will be talking with Dream to get caught up on everything while you guys clean. Shoppers, I am so sorry this happened and to involve you in this mess which probably could’ve very easily been fixed. Again, sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you, and have a lovely rest of your day.”
And the local newspaper has a headline like, “AFTER DAYS, ROLLERBLADE-BOY TUBBO PUTS AN END TO THE HELPER WAR. SHOPPERS EXTREMELY GRATEFUL”
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usopp-writes · 2 years
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A DATE WITH ONE OF MY BLORBOS??? yes please 👉🏻👈🏻
For: usopp!
Your/muse name (nicknames are allowed): star
Age: 19
Do you like to cuddle?: yes please 🥺
Can we make-out?: yes 😳
A night in or dinner out?: a night in
Ice cream or chocolate covered
strawberries? oh my god- uhhhhh yes
Would you/your muse cook for me? i can't cook- i only know how to make pasta and mac n cheese-
Would you/your muse let me cook for youl
them?: pls 💜
What makes you a good date? i'm very creative and i draw a lot. i'm super interested in stars and watching the moon glow at night hehe. i can also be a bit chaotic but i can calm down very easily lol i just have a lot of love to give💕
Date application
Shaking hands held the application, while the owner of the hands grew pale, with eyes widened in pure surprise. Was this for real? Did you really mean it? Why? At this moment Usopp's insecurities started to show, as he looked at you, seeing you sit against the mast, watching Luffy and Chopper play at the swing.
Your eyes locked and you sent him a wamr smile, making him quickly smile back, before rushing into the library. Nami for once wasn't there, no one was, much to his relief. Finding a piece of paper he sat down at the table.
Maybe he should have just walked over to you and give you an answer? No, he couldn't even form the words in his mind when looking at you, let alone speak them. It was better he simply wrote his answer to you.
Dearest Star
Yes that was a good start and would set the tone for this letter.
When I read your application, my heart stopped for a brief moment, before it start beating harder than I've ever experienced, but it was in a good way too. I felt more alive. You have no idea how happy it made me.
Sadly I am not allowed to cook, you know how Sanji is, but on the next island we could see if they have a take-out place and get food there? We don't have to go back to Sunny, we could go to the beach and have our dinner there. Afterwards we can watch the stars and I'll tell you my favorite tales from the sky above.
That is, if you're serious about your application. If not, it's fine, I was just saying how I would take one out for a date. Hahaha.
Your Sniper Usopp
Usopp quickly put the letter in an envelope, wrote your name on it and left the library, just as Nami was about to enter. He wished he had more time to re-read his letter. Hopefully you wouldn't think it was badly written.
Gathering all his courage, he casually strolled over to you, sat next to you, before sliding the envelope towards you. As soon as he was sure you had it, he jolted up and went over to play with Chopper and Luffy. He needed to get rid of all this nervous energy.
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veeples-archive · 3 years
Text
drowning in love (and mac and cheese)
✨ pairing: nate sewell x fiona rosario
✨ rating: t
✨ word count: 774
✨ warnings: t, for some suggestive language
a quick drabble for @wayhavensummer prompt: cooking!
Nate could never tire of watching the way Fiona’s eyes positively brighten when he visits her apartment.
A simple yellow, floral patterned apron covers her from chest to knees, her curly hair pulled away from her face in a ponytail. Sweat sheens on her upper brow and on her cheeks, the sharp smell of cheese (artificial, he notes at the chemical undertone) and the salt of sausage clinging to her.
“Pardon, did I interrupt you cooking dinner, Fiona?” Nate asks after he leans down to plant a gentle kiss to her temple.
“Just a bit, all I’m making is some macaroni and cheese and hot dogs! Nothing fancy,” Fiona laughs, ushering him into her apartment with a wave of her hand.
She flits away with a jovial hum, the skirts of her dress flaring out behind her as she returns to the kitchen. Nate follows, unable to stop himself from admiring Fiona move from counter to stovetop, looking as busy as a bee and as light as the spring breeze. Watching her be so domestic, so comfortable, makes Nate’s skin tingle — the idea that this is something he’s coming to share with her now, coming as easy and as natural as if they’ve been together for years.
It’s still so extraordinary. Finding a place in her little apartment where she puts out two plates, two glasses, two sets of silverware, a space she’s already habitually made for him.
“Say, Nate,” Fiona calls, bringing him out his warm reverie. “Do you think adding six cups of water sounds like too much?”
Nate blinks. “Six cups of water to what, my darling?”
“The macaroni and cheese, of course!”
Confusion, quickly followed by dread, washes over him.
He darts a half step forward, eyeing all at once the blue box of macaroni and cheese, the torn packet of cheese powder, and the drowned mess of what looks like pasta with little roads of hot dogs bobbing in orange tinted water.
Well maybe they won’t be sharing much of a dinner after all.
“What—,” Nate pauses, readjusting his tone to something more neutral when she levels him with a concerned look. “Why did you add six cups of water?”
“The box says so! See, it lists out the ingredients, butter, milk, the cheese powder, and six cups of water?” Fiona tilts her head, nose wrinkling at him. “But it looks wrong, right?”
Nate gingerly takes the box in his hands and scans the instructions. True to form, it does list the instructions and the ingredients to prepare the macaroni and cheese, including the six cups of water.
Understanding dawns on him. A laugh builds in the back of his throat and it takes every ounce of effort to push it away when Fiona narrows her eyes at him and draws her lip into a pout.
“Fiona,” he begins, a chuckle slipping past. “Fiona, my darling, you only needed the water to boil the pasta, not add it to the sauce.”
Her face falls, eyes turning blank.
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh.”
“I probably should have spent more time reading the instructions…” Fiona frowns, turning her quickly reddening face away and looking very much the part of full indignity. “Sorry Nate, we might have to order in instead? I don’t have much else to cook.”
Teasing aside, Nate slides an arm around her middle, burying a kiss to top of her head as she huffs and shifts towards him. It wouldn’t do to make fun of her further, not when her pinched expression betrays the depth of her annoyance.
“Don’t be so upset, Fiona, eating in suits me well enough.”
Then, to fully turn her attention away from any more of her cloudy thoughts, Nate whispers something slightly more suggestive in her ear. Promising her that she would make a delectable meal of her own and one taste of her would be more than enough to satisfy him.
It works. Fiona laughs, twisting and shoving away from when Nate moves his kisses from her head to tickling her jaw with a flurry of quick kisses. He laughs with her, loving the sound of it, loving the look of her cheeks full and her mouth stretched into an open grin.
“Well I hope you just won’t take one taste, mi osito,” Fiona winks.
“Never. If you’ll let me, I could drink myself dizzy and intoxicated. Now,” Nate pushes up the sleeves of his shirt, saddling up in front of the kitchen sink. “Let me clean up and you can handle ordering.”
“Deal.”
Fiona reaches up, stealing one last kiss from him, and moves away from the kitchen phone already in hand.
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