#butter rice is so comforting

[homosociallyyours]

I have food to eat for dinner that won't take a lot of effort to reheat and enough energy to do the reheating BUT it's one of those nights where the thought of ordering food just sounds so good!! Panang curry?? Saag paneer?? Idk just. Not my (delicious, nutritious) house food lol

This isn't an ask for $ help, just some plaintive bleating that I know many of you will identify with. Sometimes you want take out just because you want take out!

[light-sabe-babe]

all my fellow audhd/neurodivergent folk I need yall to answer this for me

[blujayonthewing]

one kind of silly benefit of playing aubree specifically is that it makes me go 'okay I'm playing aubree today so I need to enjoy some really good food'

[lyriumsings]

building up my appetite again is gonnna suck

[luveline]

i just discovered bombshell reader but omfg she got hit in the face with a sledgehammer??? how does the healing process go for her? especially since she’s very focused on her looks. how would she cope?

thank you for requesting <3 fem

Your new scars are… an adjustment. 

The worst one is where the hammer hit you. Where your jaw shattered, and the impact of the hammerhead split your skin. You don’t remember the pain, just the nausea, and the blackness as your consciousness slipped away, and now you have a permanent reminder stretched from the corner of your mouth to your jaw. 

You turn your chin up in the mirror, looking. When you smile the scar puckers, rigid and starkly purple against your skin.  

You can hear Spencer in your kitchen. He’s singing. You haven’t heard him sing many times, despite all your days and nights spent together. Your smile is out of your hands, you don’t really think about it, and so for the first time in weeks you see your own happiness in the mirror. 

You didn’t have your jaw wired for as long as most people, just three weeks. At first you’d decided against it, and then you’d realised it wasn’t really an option. That entire time, Spencer stood by your side like he’d been glued there supporting every decision with vigour. And considering he hadn’t been your boyfriend for very long —your best friend, arguably, but not officially your partner— he’s done more than you ever expected of him. He’s been perfect. 

He continues to be everything you need. “Hey, Y/N! Are you eating breakfast today or not?” 

You give yourself a last look in the mirror, cringe at your scars, and check your newly repaired teeth. They look fine, Spencer swears that he can’t tell the difference. 

You can. 

You leave your room for the kitchen. There are twin plates of breakfast waiting and steaming hot on the kitchen table, with a glass of juice and a second of water waiting beside them. Spencer’s coffee sits half empty beside the cutlery. 

“I love breakfast. What are we having, Spencer Reid, egg and sausage muffins again?” 

He appears from your little pantry with a big smile. “No, it’s bacon and egg. But I can make something else.”

“That’s perfect, it’s perfect.” 

Spencer puts a package of rice crackers down on the table. “Let me get the hazelnut spread. Sit down.” 

“It’s fine, we can have them after. You need to eat before it goes cold, Spence.” You open your hand for him. “Please?”

Spencer takes your hand, but only for you to sit. He stays standing at your legs, looking down at you, all brown curls and eyes as his hand runs up your arm to your shoulder, where it stays. 

The other follows a similar path, but then he holds your face, and you feel your breath catch. 

Forward, for Spencer. 

Suddenly, he’s the confident one. 

“You were in there for a long time,” he says. 

“Just making sure I look alright.” 

“You do. You look more than alright.” His thumb presses into your cheek, forcing a hollow. 

You lean into it. 

“You’re beautiful. Nothing can change that.” 

You need the comfort, and you know you’ve had enough. He keeps telling you how pretty you are, and you are, but he must be getting sick of it. 

…But no. He’s not getting tired of it. 

“Love you,” you whisper. 

He’s only had a couple of those from you. Many more since your injury, not because you didn’t love him, but because it can be synonymous with so many things, like please, and thank you, and please stay. Lately, you’ve had to ask him for more than you’ve ever asked before. 

“I love you, too,” he says, with that pout that tells you his cheeks will be pink before he’s so much as sat down. 

He rubs your cheek. Over and over, little circles as your eyes close. You’re tired again. His hands smell like toast and butter. 

“It’s really not as bad as you think it is. Nobody at work will think anything less of you.” 

“Of course they will. I used to be perfect.” 

“Hey. That’s not fair, to you or anyone. A scar doesn’t have the power to– to make you less perfect,” —you peel your eyes open at his intensity— “you couldn’t be any less pretty. It’s not possible.” 

“I know it’s ugly, Spencer.” 

“You keep saying that, but it’s not.” He raises his second hand to your cheek, the one with the scar, careful though it stopped feeling tender to the touch weeks ago. The pad of his thumb follows the line. 

You raise your chin, pulling him down for a quick kiss. “Sorry,” you say against his lips. 

He smiles in turn. “It’s okay. I can keep telling you.” 

“Can you tell me again?” 

Spencer kisses you again. His way of kissing has been toned down now, and sometimes you miss feeling like he was gonna press you against a wall, but it was necessary. Even now you feel a phantom twinge as his nose smushes yours. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, pulling back now, just one hand at your neck. “You are. You’re so pretty it gives me palpitations.” 

“That can’t be good.” 

“I think it’s really bad.” He laughs like an idiot. “I just don’t care. I’ve had you-provoked tachycardia for years. Nothing’s gonna change that now.” 

—

bombshell au

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hello again, I hope you are having a good day. May I please request for Yandere Nanami wherein he miscalculates how long his business trip would be and he comes home to emotionally wrecked and hungry darling ( He locked them in the closest as a punishment prior) which leads to hurt comfort between the two

Nanami opened the front door and kicked off his shoes, sighing in disappointment at his timing and at how late at night he got back at. Traffic was terrible, his shoes weren't as comfortable as they were this morning, and he missed you terribly. He ran his fingers through his hair that no longer mattered now that he was indoors and put his suitcase out of sight.

He was going to call out that he was home, but reminded himself that he still had you cooped up in that shitty basement. He walked through the house and into the kitchen to finally get you a glass of water. He was only supposed to be on that business trip for around two days and be back home by the time the third day ended. The basement was very spacious, but even he had his limits in there. Which is why it was a great punishment, in his mind. He had enough of your mouth and you attempted to escape after almost sending him over the edge all in one day. But he still worried for you. There were no lights or any sense of comfort in there. At this point, he just wants you in his arms again. The thought makes his heart race in excitement. You must feel so lonely, feel so anxious, so cold, and

You freeze when you turn and see Nanami standing a few feet away from you, watching you shove your fifth slice of bread into your mouth. The two of you mirrored the same look of horror as you acknowledged one another. Nanami's face contorts into one of realization while yours continues to drop. Your stomach twists in fear at the sight of your captor finding you outside of your confinement and suddenly you feel nauseous and no longer desire any kind of elements of nutrition.

Pieces of food that weren't swallowed fall out of your mouth in fear and surprise and you scatter off to the nearest room with a lock and you slam it shut, fiddling with the lock and somehow manage to turn it with terribly shaky hands. It's hard to breath and you hyperventilate as you scoot into a corner, keeping yourself huddled.

Kento was still stuck in place, his mouth open in complete shock. You had ransacked the entire kitchen. He lets his eyes scan over everything on the ground. Almost nothing in the cabinets or fridge was left untouched, so many things left open and touched by his poor, poor girl's fingers. Juice, crackers, the bread you tore into, butter, cereal, refrigerated rice, half-eaten boxes of vegetables and fruits, uncooked noodles......it didn't end there.

The more his eyes found laying around, the heavier his heart got. This was all his fault. He didn't mean to......do this to you. Not at all. His eyes flutter shut as he rubs them, a sigh leaving his mouth. This wasn't supposed to happen. He inhaled sharply to gather more courage to step past the obvious signs of severe neglect he had done to you.

He could hear your fast-paced breathing from outside of the guest-bedroom and shakes his head in shame. He was so fucking ashamed of being so irresponsible with taking care of you. He was supposed to be your lover, your caretaker, the one you should be able to trust. But it seems like he can't even do any of those things right. He was wrong. "I'm sorry." His throat felt like it was constricting his vocals as he chokes out the apology. No kind of words or affirmations could change what he did to you and he wanted to be able to help you see that.

His face was so close to the door, as if he could speak through it into your heart. The last thing he'd do is force you into anything. He deserved to work for your trust back. "I'm so sorry, baby, please." There wasn't much he could make himself say. His ears picked up on your silent sobs and he dropped his forehead on the door, his hands on it as well. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna see you. It's been so long, hm? Since we last saw each other? I just want to hold you."

You didn't know how to feel. You just did something so very, very wrong. This is the type of behavior that gets you in the basement and a chain on your ankle for decoration. You broke out and practically flipped the kitchen upside-down. What isn't he going to do to you??? You didn't even realize yourself speaking through your tears. Constant 'leave me alone's slipped through your lips as you cried. You were so damn scared of what he'd do to you.

Outside the door, Kento shakes his head at your words and presses the side of his face to the door to hear you better. "No, no, no, no, baby. I won't hurt you, I promise. Can you please trust me just this once? I just want to make sure you're okay. You're hungry, I can tell. Just let me help you and you can get all of the food you want, okay??" Kento shakes the doorknob subconsciously, which makes you gasp in fear. Kento flinches away from it when he hears you make the sound and immediately and tells you he won't do it again.

He continues trying to verbally sooth you through the door, telling you repeatedly that it's okay. "....Everyone has limits. And I pushed you to yours." You wipe your face of your tears and push yourself to your feet.

Slowly, you hesitate, but take your quiet steps towards the door. Nanami can't hear anything on the other side. Are you okay? Why are you quiet? Are you trying to escape through the window??? It's bolted. Never mind. He's worried. "Darling?" He silently whispers. All he gets is the sound of his own breaths.

Then the loud sound of the lock clicks and he takes a step back. The door cracks open, extremely slowly. It's almost impossible to tell. You only leave enough space to look through about 1 inch to peek at him through the door. And even with that much to look at, he can tell you are so scared. He shouldn't have done this. The constant anxiety this is giving him continues to make his stomach cramp. A wobbly smile makes its way onto his face. "There she is! Can you-.....please let me take you out of that room?" He stumbles over his words, his arms awkwardly spreading out to seem as if he's friendly.

The silence you let grow only leaves room for more interpretation. You just stare at him with that stone cold eye. Almost as if you're trying to see through him. But nothing is hiding behind his face but the constant stress he's getting from stressing you out. He obviously loves you too much. He gets overprotective sometimes.

You open the door and step out and his shoulders relax as he very carefully looks over you. You used the bucket. Which was good. So, you were at least somewhat clean. You just looked.....hungry. Your face seemed slimmer, your eyes sunken in exhaustion(not that much, but he's great at details when it comes to you).

Before you could stop him, he was cleaning the kitchen and got to running you a bath and making dinner.

[pomegranatesarchive]

what would you like to eat today? just pick something—an appetizer, a main course, or a dessert—and a boy (or multiple) of your choice! would you prefer a shrimp cocktail or teriyaki salmon?

you can choose from the following characters/people: formula one, harry potter, criminal minds, and even stranger things! please let me know who you want me to write about! i do also accept pairing + reader, just be specific!

THE RESTAURANT IS NOW CLOSED

the menu:

.

hainanese chicken rice: "i like your...pupils?"

pad thai: "before you say anything about me being at home tonight, i want to remind you that you are too.”

zabaglione: "did you know you talk in your sleep?"

nasi goreng: “since when does your job extend to giving me relationship advice?”

chocolate mousse: "your feet are freezing!"

pho: “you seemed a little off on the phone, so i wanted to make sure you had something nice to come home to.”

kimchi-jjigae: "shit, i forgot to grab an umbrella. i didn't know it was raining"

beef bourguignon: "have you ever been in love?"

macarons: "why are you so jittery?"

flan: "don't worry, i won't tell anyone that my big bad roommate is afraid of a little thunder."

ratatouille: “tell me how you fell in love with me.”

soufflé: “why are you so grumpy all the time?”

quiche lorraine: “you fell asleep in my arms. it was kind of adorable.”

risotto: “can i sleep in your room tonight? is that weird to ask?”

cacio e pepe: "we'll need to do some serious redecorating if i do move in."

dorayaki: "please don't ask me if i'd still love you if you turned into a zombie."

atayef: “i’d love to stop kissing your neck in public, believe me, but it’s all i can reach!”

banana pudding: "i want to stay and watch those stupid nature documentaries. okay?"

shawarma: “look, i got us matching pool floaties!”

mango sticky rice: “it’s not my fault your boxers are so comfortable. besides, it’s not like anyone’s going to know.”

focaccia: "can we do that again? my eyes were closed."

tiramisu: "i left you a note, did you read it?"

pinakbet: “hey, wait up- your collar’s all crooked, let me fix it.”

mooncakes: "we can't keep meeting like this. someone will find out."

ragù alla bolognese: "what do you mean you've never gone trick-or-treating?!"

churros: "i brought you flowers."

mapo tofu: "i did your taxes."

albondigas: "you...you learned how to cook my favorite food?"

teriyaki salmon: "who needs friends? i have you."

crema catalana: "are you jealous?"

rice pudding: "you sure this looks fine?"

sinigang: "i thought you wanted some space?"

rasgulla: "why are you looking at me like that?"

kofta: "yawning whilst trying to convince me you’re not tired tends to have the opposite effect.”

shrimp cocktail: "you're telling me that you've only had one crush your entire life? that's bullshit. tell me who it is."

empanadas: "you smell good."

paella: "are you always this happy?"

pani puri: "you kissed me! you kissed me, how's that not a big deal?"

brownies: "i'm not sleeping in your bed, it hurts when my legs dangle over the edge, you know?"

chiles en nogada: “can i hold your hand? is that weird to ask?”

baba ghanoush: "I would've moved to the floor but you were using me as a pillow."

tempura: "i'm sorry, babe, are those flashcards?"

biangbiang noodles: “weird way to propose but the answer is yes.”

clam chowder: “you’re sleeping on the floor.”

chicken riggies: "stop jumping in those leaves"

chocolate mousse: ”you look—uh, good. you look good.”

haricots verts with herb butter: "you know you can just say 'no' if you don't want to come with me to the party."

roast duck: “are you okay? you look a little…”

leg of lamb: "why did you pick me of all people to haunt?"

cedar-plank salmon: "put the icing DOWN."

french toast: "you can… drink blood from me if you want."

chocolate cake: "am i too close?"

lemon curd: "laundry day doesn’t mean walking around in your underwear, but for you, i’ll make an exception."

bouillabaisse: "jealous? me? pff. never."

.

thank you for participating!! hope you enjoyed <33

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Nesting for Omegas

•A Nest is a space an Omega keeps for their heats especially but also for a calming, comfortable space all their own

•No one is to enter that space without express permission from the Omega in question-permission is needed every time you enter unless you’re the Omegas Alpha and you know you’re wanted there-permission will still be needed for an Alpha if the Omega is upset with them

•When an Omega builds a nest they zone out and focus on their task, it is nearly impossible to get their attention and if you do you’ll wish you hadn’t, Omegas don’t take kindly to being distracted while building their nest {Disrupt at your own Risk}

•Do Not wear your shoes into an Omegas nest!

•Young Omegas will always have a nest of their own but when with friends or family outside their home, like at a sleep over, they will often make a nest for them and their friends to sleep in. Alphas and Betas are taught not to intrude on a nest that’s not their Omegas but in this case it’s a community nest, though the Omega will still be particular about how it’s built, often changing little things about how they buid their own nest so it’s not too similar, not wanting people to know what their nest looks like

•Many Betas and Alphas try to build nests when they’re children, wanting the comfort, especially once they’ve experienced a friends nest or been into their parents if they have an Omega parent, though it’s a behavior that doesn’t stick around long very often-only the occasional Beta will continue this practice and it will be different than that of an Omegas

(——However when an Alpha has been put on suppressants too young (usually before presenting) they will often display Omega-like behaviors and one of those is nesting. This action becomes just as if not more important to the Alpha as they grow-especially depending on their situation)

•An Omega will usually build their nest in a small space with surrounding walls, like a nook. Many young Omegas will build their nests in their closet when they’re new to it and instinctually try to hide it from people

•Many Omegas hang curtains around their nests to make them feel safer and less exposed, another reason younger Omegas nest in their closets so often. It makes them feel less vulnerable

•Typical nesting materials include

Comforters. Pillows. Body pillows. Sheets. Fleece throws. Stuffed animals. Mates clothes, or clothes of an Alpha they like that they’ve stolen to make their nest smell like them. -Young Omegas will quite often steal shirts from their Alpha fathers to put in their nest as in their youth it has only ever been a safe and wonderful/comforting smell that often helps them relax and sleep (to the small Omega ‘Alpha Scent’ just smells like Daddy and Daddy is safe-this wears off around puberty and sometimes even earlier) Many use faux fur as part of their nest, the feel of animal fur being instinctually comforting to an Omega as it was one of the only things Omegas had to use hundreds of years ago

•Candles will typically be placed around a nest or incense holders as well as lights, fairy lights often being things Omegas like hanging over their nests as they’re not overly bright and blinding, they offer a dim light that’s just enough without being too much, just enough to be comforting so Christmas lights are often perfect

•Nearly all Omegas will have a cache of snacks. Some have a mini fridge near by with things in it but most will have a box hidden in a corner of their nest containing water bottles/Powerade/gatorade since their heats cause intense thirst, it will also contain snacks. Mostly things that are filling and replace their energy during heats such as Trail mix, jerky, gold fish crackers, peanut butter crackers, granola bars, peanuts, pretzels, but they will also have other treats that they enjoy most for when they need them like fruit snacks, cookies, favorite candy bars, chips, pop corn, Rice Krispie treats

•Every single nest is different, because every single Omega is different. Some are extremely neat, some are hectic and messy, some are all matching and beautiful, some are mismatched colors and complex, made on a mattress, layered on a hundred pillows. No 2 nests are the same but they are all comfortable and perfect to each individual Omega

•A quick way to an Omegas heart is a compliment on their nest, they all work very hard to make it perfect and are more self conscious about it than you would expect since it is so personal to them

•If you are lucky enough to be allowed into an Omegas nest count your lucky stars, it is an honor and a privilege and you should never treat it as anything less

Omegaverse Beliefs

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Fettuccine’s Guide to Your Ghostly Gamer Boyfriend

BEN can be quite the catch with how sweet and cute he is, especially considering once he’s dating you he’d do anything he can to keep that pretty smile on your face and joy blooming inside of you. Of course, he’s not hard to date, but there are some tips that come with dating him, so here are some things to keep in mind. 

1. Always check your surroundings, especially if he calls out for you. When you’re a ghost, who needs stairs? Always remember to check both ceilings, walls, and floors when you’re walking about, because you never know just where you might see his head peeking out from. 

2. Remember to carry snacks on you. Even the dead like to snack around, so when you find yourself visiting BEN, make sure to have some candy or nice of his favorite snacks on you. Gifting him with snacks always means he’s going to return the favor and gift you snacks too, and it also means you’re gonna have him cuddling up to you, covering you in happy kisses to thank you for doing so. Recommended choices are Doritos (specifically Cool Ranch or Spicy Sweet Chili), Goldfish (he prefers the original Cheddar flavor), Cheez-Its (White Cheddar), Rice Krispies, Fruit Roll-Ups/By the Foot, or just about any candy you can get your hands on. Peanut butter candy scores you bonus points though. Obtaining any of these snacks for him makes him feel extra happy and loved and has him turning into a puddle in your arms.

3. This next one might seem obvious, but be interested in video games. You don’t have to be good at them or play a bunch of them yourself, but having an interest in them in general is essential. He loves playing with you, and he’s happy to teach you some tricks and play at your pace, but he also likes showing off for you. Watch him play a single player he’s really good at and cheer him on and you’ll have him feeling just about as happy as he gets. It makes him feel super loved and appreciated to have you so excited over his interests, and he always returns the favor for partaking in your interests as well. 

4. Send him silly photos of yourself. I’m sure we’ve all had a moment where someone takes a particularly bad photo of us and our knee-jerk reaction is to ask them to delete it, but you should do the opposite with BEN. He loves photography and he loves taking extremely flattering pictures of you and saving them to look at later, but he tries to avoid getting silly ones of you because he doesn’t know if it’ll upset you and quite frankly he’s too anxious to ask. Set him at ease by sending him an especially silly photo of yourself every now and then. It’ll really, really make him giddy and excited, and he’ll always send you an equally goofy photo of himself back so you’re even. Those photos you send him always end up becoming his favorite because you’re being unapologetically yourself in them. 

5. Let him ramble to you. BEN feels anxious with dominating conversations, but there are times when he really wants to rant and rave about things to you. Allowing him to do so and actually listening to him (even occasionally asking questions or making remarks in response) decreases his general anxiety about it and makes him feel much, much more comfortable with you. It allows him to get out his rambles, and it lets him share his interests with you, so it’s a winning situation.

6. Sacrifice your sleep or help reel him in. BEN, as a ghost, does not need to sleep. You, as a human, do need to. He gets so used to never sleeping that sometimes he forgets that you can’t stay up extremely late every single night and that you need to be in bed before the sun comes up. When it gets close to the time you’d actually like to go to bed, start settling down in bed and offering him some cuddles. Cuddles always relax him and put him at peace, so snuggling the fuck out of him is one way to prevent him from getting late-night zoomies and keeping you awake all night. He’ll adapt pretty easily if you keep at it. 

7. Speaking of cuddles, if you’re gonna date BEN you’ve gotta be okay with being super affectionate. This gamer is extremely touch-starved and at most points in the day wants nothing more than to be wrapped up in your arms receiving all your attention. Give him hugs and kisses whenever you see him, even if it’s in passing through the hallway, and make sure to cuddle up with him when you’re both alone. Sit in his lap or let him sit in yours, lay down together, sit side by side with an arm thrown over your shoulders. He’s basically just a needy puppy when it comes down to it and he thrives on your touch.

8. Have a sense of humor and appreciate his memes. BEN shows affection by sending you a bunch of funny memes, TikToks, and YouTube videos he thinks you’ll find really funny. You don’t have to like all of them, but take the time to look at them and send some back to him. He tries to curate it over time so he sends only stuff you’ll enjoy, so if you don’t like a particular variety be sure to tell him. He enjoys the back and forth of sharing things with you so much. 

9. Be prepared to accept the fact that you’ll probably be the chef in your relationship. BEN… Well, to say the least, is not allowed in the kitchen. There are very few things he can actually make, and although he tries his best, he really is not that great at cooking things and if it were up to him he could survive off of cereal. You don’t have to be a five star chef, but it would probably be good for both of you if you could make something other than hot pockets. 

10. The final, and one of the most important, of tips is to… Be yourself. BEN spends a lot of his time with a mask on presenting a facade because he’s too anxious to really open up to people and expose the inner, depressive, and traumatized sides of himself. Having a partner who can be 100% open and honest with him will go a long way in helping him do the same for you. After all, he loves you for who you are, and he doesn’t want you to feel the need to hide things about yourself. If you can be so open and honest with him, he can do the same for you. 

Disclaimer;

BEN would like it to be said that he had no part in making this guide and that the thoughts, opinions, and claims expressed are my own (even if they’re true). He would also like to express that you also have to be comfortable sleeping in his room with his mountains of blankets, so if you cannot handle that, he recommends investing in a high powered fan. He’ll help you purchase it. He’s now also demanding a minimum of thirty minutes of cuddling per day, non-negotiable. That is all.

(That last part is just me trying to be silly please remember that BEN does not exist, is not real, never has been, and never will be. He is a fictional entity.) 

[asexualsinner]

More Ghoul Headcanons: Kitchen Edition

Mountain

Hides his snacks on the top shelf to avoid the others stealing them

Has to use a recipe when cooking

Likes hearty meals like stews

Is an excellent shadow, will assist any of the other ghouls or Copia when asked.

Likes to just be in the kitchen

Is the embodiment of a pioneer woman mom

Loves to bake

CanNOT handle spice

Thinks cayenne is spicy

Favorite food is chili and drink is tea

Favorite snacks are fig newtons (yes he knows that they're made with wasps, he thinks it's funny)

Carries epi pens on him for the others

Rain

Is obsessed with making smoothies

Isn't allowed to use the stove after using water on a grease fire

Nearly burned half the abbey down

It's fine, he prefers salads anyway

Do not trust this ghoul with a knife he will find a way to hurt himself by accident

Is just a disaster when in the kitchen

Favorite food is smoked salmon thanks to Dew

Fancy ✨bitch✨ that puts mint and fruits in his water

Is the only ghoul to like Kale

Has a high spice tolerance

Takes forever to do the dishes bc he'll play in the water instead

Dew/Sodo

Favorite snacks are seaweed sheets and Takis

His taste buds went "weird" after his transition

He can't decide what he likes anymore, spicy? Fish? So he decided on both. Sometimes neither

Loves to smoke foods, begs Mountain for dried wood flavors for it

Dew learning to smoke properly was heavy trial and error, some things were edible some were very much not

His favorite changes weekly, but ATM it's smoked veggies and tofu

Is a big garbage ghoul, will throw everything together on a plate and eat it

Drinks coffee but doesn't like energy drinks

Has moderate spice tolerance

Will try anything once

Surprisingly one of the better cooks in the pack

Is lactose intolerant. No this doesn't stop him. Why would it?

Doesn't need a recipe, cooks from memory or guesswork

Has everything labeled and dated

Swiss

NO spice tolerance

Tries to compete with Dew, Cumulus and Rain and it never ends well

Loves comfort food!!! Give this ghoul Macncheese or pierogies and he's happy

Can follow boxed instructions or strict recipes but tries to "improve" them

Survives off of Redbull

Doesn't know the difference between a chef's knife and a paring knife

Thinks bc he's a multi ghoul he can pull pans out of the oven without mitts - has been treated for burns multiple times

Hates doing the dishes

His go to snacks are gummy worms or jerky

Will eat expired food thinking it'll be fine - it never is

Is a 3am fridge raider

Phantom/Aeon

Loves pancakes, absolute favorite food though is fettuccine Alfredo. Has to be fettuccine noodles, spaghetti isn't the same

Has texture issues with food

Absolutely hates ground meats, the texture is bad

Has a sweet tooth

Is a surprisingly decent cook, can manage without recipes

Baking is beyond him

Mistook baking soda for sugar once and Mountain banned him from baking ever again

Doesn't like eggs

Is allergic to peanut butter

Favorite snacks are Oreos or rice crackers

Enjoys cranberry juice

Can't have caffeine - gives him headaches

Aether

One of the better cooks in the pack

Is one of the only ones that can finish the dishes without distractions

Is allergic to citrus fruits

Has an app on his phone to scan packages for ingredients

Will practically drink soy sauce he loves it so much

Favorite snack is cucumbers and Italian dressing

Prefers strawberry jam over grape jelly

Doesn't like seafood

Favorite food is deer chili - shares this with Mountain

Wears gloves when cooking to avoid cross contamination

Cumulus

SPICE QUEEN

Has done every spice challenge possible, downs it like it's nothing

Like Swiss, can read box instructions but don't trust her past that

Has burnt frozen pizza before

Favorite snacks are tortillas and ghost pepper salsa

Eats jalapenos like candy

Needless to say she terrifies others

Favorite food is homemade ramen - she begs the others to make it for her

Package ramen isn't the same

Likes to do the dishes and help out in the kitchen

Does need a step stool however

Favorite drink is hazelnut coffee

Aurora

Junk food junkie

Favorite snacks are Skittles and kettle cooked potato chips

Prefers vitamin water over regular water

Likes to make quick easy meals like grilled cheese etc

Eats at the oddest times, breakfast is 2pm and dinner has been at 4am for her

Leaves her dishes in the sink like a gremlin

Has been banned from eating in the living room

Gets easily distracted while cooking

If she puts her mind to it, can make really elaborate dishes for the pack

However she makes a huge mess of the kitchen when doing so

Cirrus

Can identify spices/ingredients after tasting things once

Is also lactose intolerant, takes lactaid frequently

Loves Korean BBQ

Likes differing temperatures (cold food that's spicy, mints, etc)

Loves blackberries and celery

Is a very good cook, can make most things after trying them once

Her favorite drink is bubble tea

Has medium spice tolerance, like spicy flavor rather than the heat

Would rather dry and put away the dishes than wash them

Has a massive sweet tooth like phantom

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 16

word count: 5.0k

i've hidden some small things within my story that make up aspen and harry, have you guys noticed any? 🤭 where should i turn the story to from here? more dates, more intimacy, group activities, etc! let me know & thanks for all the support!

The next day, Aspen had cleared her schedule, wanting to use the free time for something meaningful. Her evening had been a whirlwind of laughter and warmth, spent with Isobel in her bed as they dissected every detail of Aspen's first official date with Harry. Takeout containers littered the nightstand, barely touched, because they were too engrossed in giggling over Harry's sweet words and Aspen's recounting of every look, every laugh, and every moment of connection.

Today felt different. There was a quiet kind of excitement humming in Aspen's chest, the kind that made her toes curl against the floor and her heart flutter every time she thought of surprising Harry. She'd been up early, not out of necessity but because the thought of doing something thoughtful for him gave her a sense of purpose she didn't often feel in her quieter routines.

Her plan was simple but heartfelt: bring Harry lunch. She'd realized, after observing how carefree and spontaneous he seemed, that he probably didn't bother with packing himself meals. He struck her as the kind of guy who either grabbed something quick or skipped lunch entirely. The thought tugged at her, making her want to do something about it.

Aspen had spent her morning channeling her rare bursts of culinary motivation into creating something she hoped Harry would love. The kitchen had filled with the warm, savory aroma of steak bites sizzling in butter, the citrusy tang of cilantro lime red rice, and the comforting, creamy scent of mac and cheese bubbling on the stovetop. Cooking wasn't something Aspen did often, but when she did, she poured herself into it entirely. Each stir, each sprinkle of seasoning, carried her thoughts to Harry—how he'd smile when he opened the container, the way he might tease her for going through so much effort, and how he'd hopefully enjoy every bite.

When the meal was ready, she carefully packed it into a container, sticking a pink sticky note on the lid. She spent longer than she'd admit debating what to write, eventually settling on a simple but warm message:

For my favorite person. I hope you love it! ❤️ —Aspen

The little heart at the end made her blush as she stuck the note firmly in place. It was bold for her, but she wanted to leave him with a tiny piece of her feelings—nothing overwhelming, just enough to make him smile.

Aspen slid the container into her light pink lunch bag, patterned with scattered white stars, and tucked in a bottle of water and a Redbull, knowing he might need the energy boost. Napkins and a fork were added as the final touches. Checking her phone, she noted the time—she had about thirty minutes before his usual break, just enough to pull everything together.

She dashed upstairs, her heart fluttering with a mix of nerves and excitement. After rummaging through her clothes, she decided on the grey flared leggings from the other night, paired with her trusty Converse. For her top, she grabbed the shirt she'd "borrowed" from Harry—it still smelled faintly of him, which made her cheeks flush as she pulled it on and tied it in the back to better fit her frame.

Aspen worked quickly, brushing her hair and pulling it into a simple half-up, half-down style. She swiped on a light coat of mascara, just enough to make her eyes pop, and dabbed tinted lip balm on her lips, giving them a subtle sheen. Glancing at her reflection, she smoothed the shirt over her waist, trying to quiet the small voice in her head wondering if she looked okay. It wasn't about being perfect—Harry had already seen her in her coziest clothes—but she wanted to feel confident and put-together.

With her tote bag and lunch bag slung over her shoulder, she took a deep breath, her heart thudding softly in her chest. The thought of surprising Harry, of seeing the look on his face when she handed him the meal she'd made with him in mind, made her smile. It was a small gesture, but one she hoped would let him know how much he meant to her.

As she locked the door behind her and stepped into the bright spring afternoon, the warmth of the sun seemed to echo the warmth in her heart. Today, she wasn't just thinking about Harry—she was showing him how much she cared, in her own quiet, thoughtful way.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The bell above the tattoo shop's door jingled softly as Aspen stepped inside, her lunch bag clutched tightly in one hand. She paused just inside the threshold, taking in the space that felt both familiar and slightly intimidating. The red-accented walls were lined with framed artwork and sketches, a testament to the creativity that buzzed within these walls. Aspen adjusted the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder, her heart racing—not from fear, but from anticipation.

Zayn was the first to notice her. He was behind the counter, flipping through the appointment book, and his face lit up when he saw her. "Well, if it isn't little miss Aspen," he greeted warmly, leaning casually on the counter. "What brings you here today?"

Aspen offered him a shy smile, shifting on her feet. "Hi, Zayn. I, um... I'm here to see Harry."

Zayn's brows lifted, his grin widening with mischief. "Here to see Harry, huh?" His tone was teasing, but not unkind. He gestured toward the back of the shop with his chin. "He's in his office. Go on back."

Before Aspen could move, another voice chimed in—Niall, sitting in the nearby waiting area, sketchpad in hand. "Ooh, Harry's got visitors now? And bringing lunch, too? Look at him, living the dream." His Irish lilt made the teasing even more playful, and Aspen could feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Shut up, you two," came Harry's familiar voice from somewhere behind them. He appeared a moment later, his flannel sleeves rolled up, ink staining the tips of his fingers. His green eyes softened the moment they landed on Aspen. "Hey, love," he said, the corner of his mouth curving into a lopsided grin. "You didn't tell me you were coming."

Aspen smiled nervously, lifting the lunch bag a little as if to explain herself. "I thought I'd surprise you... I figured you might not have had lunch."

Harry's gaze flickered to the bag, then back to her, and something warm and unspoken passed between them. "Y'know me too well," he said softly. Then, turning to Zayn and Niall, he added, "Don't you two have something better to do than nose into my business?"

"Not a chance," Niall quipped, earning a laugh from Zayn. "You're the entertainment, mate."

Harry rolled his eyes but didn't bother responding. Instead, he placed a hand lightly on Aspen's lower back, guiding her toward the hallway that led to his office. "C'mon, let's get out of here before they make it worse."

Aspen's skin tingled where his hand rested, and she couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder. Zayn gave her a wink, and Niall mimed a slow clap, his grin wide. They exchanged a look between each other, surprised at Harry's sudden softness. 

She turned forward quickly, her cheeks flushing even more. "They seem... nice," she murmured. Harry chuckled, his voice low and warm. "Nice isn't the word I'd use, but they mean well."

When they reached his office, Harry pushed the door open and gestured for Aspen to step inside first. The space was small but cozy, with sketches pinned to the walls and a desk covered in art supplies and paperwork. A worn leather couch sat against one wall, and the scent of ink and faint traces of cologne lingered in the air.

"Make yourself at home," Harry said, shutting the door behind them. He leaned back against it for a moment, watching as Aspen set her bag down on the desk. There was something about the way she moved, so quietly yet purposefully, that tugged at his chest. And he would be lying if he said his eyes didn't wander lower, lingering on how her gray leggings hugged the beautiful curve of her ass. He looked back up with a small smirk when she turned back to face him.

Aspen glanced around, taking in the little details of his space. It felt so him—creative, a little messy, but warm. She carefully unzipped the lunch bag, pulling out the container and setting it in front of him. "I, um, made this for you," she said softly. "I hope it's okay... I wasn't sure what you'd like, but..."

Harry stepped closer, reaching out to lift the container's lid. The smell of the warm food hit him immediately, and his eyes widened slightly. "You made all this?" he asked, looking at her in surprise.

Aspen nodded, twisting her hands together nervously. "I thought... maybe you don't bring lunch with you? And I just wanted to, you know... do something nice for you."

Harry stared at the meal for a moment, then back at her, his expression unreadable. Finally, he smiled—a slow, genuine smile that reached his eyes. "You didn't have to do this," he said, his voice soft, almost reverent. "But... thank you, Aspen. Really."

Her heart fluttered at the way he said her name, the warmth in his tone making her feel like she'd done something right. "I just... I wanted to," she admitted, looking down at her hands. "You do so much for me, Harry. I wanted to do something for you, too."

Harry stepped closer, reaching out to touch her arm lightly. "You're somethin' else, y'know that?" he said, his voice low. His touch was gentle, grounding, and Aspen felt her nerves settle slightly under his gaze.

They stood there for a moment, the quiet intimacy of the moment wrapping around them like a blanket. For Harry, the thoughtfulness of her gesture was almost overwhelming. He wasn't used to people doing things for him, not like this—not with so much care. And for Aspen, the way he looked at her, like she was the most important person in the world, made her chest feel light and full all at once.

Harry reached down, his hand sliding gently along Aspen's arm as he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. It wasn't rushed or demanding, just a quiet moment that seemed to still the world around them. Aspen's breath caught, her eyes fluttering shut as her heart raced in her chest. When he pulled back, his gaze lingered on her face, his green eyes warm and filled with something she couldn't quite name but felt deeply all the same.

"C'mon," Harry murmured, his voice low and coaxing. He slid his hand into hers, guiding her toward the worn leather couch against the wall. Aspen followed, feeling lightheaded but blissfully so, her fingers curling around his instinctively.

As they settled onto the couch, Harry unwrapped the container she'd brought him, his brows raising slightly as he took in the meal. The sight of it—the steak bites perfectly cooked, the fluffy cilantro lime red rice, and the creamy mac and cheese—made something tight in his chest ease. She'd done this for him, thought of him enough to go out of her way. He wasn't used to that kind of care, and it both surprised and humbled him.

He took the first bite, letting out a low hum of approval. "Bloody hell, Asp," he said, looking at her with wide eyes. "This is incredible. You've been holding out on me, haven't you?"

Aspen's cheeks flushed immediately, her fingers twisting in the hem of her borrowed shirt. She ducked her head, a small, shy smile tugging at her lips. "I don't cook much," she admitted, her voice soft. "It's kind of rare that I actually feel like doing it."

"Well, I'm lucky you felt like it today," Harry said, taking another bite and savoring it. He glanced at her, his grin softening into something more genuine. "You're spoiling me, baby."

The word "baby" made Aspen's stomach flip, and she pressed her lips together to keep from smiling too widely. She couldn't help the warmth spreading through her chest at his words, though, or the way her heart seemed to skip every time he looked at her like that.

As Harry continued to eat, he threw in compliments here and there—about how perfectly seasoned the steak was, how the rice was better than anything he'd had from a restaurant. Each word made Aspen shrink a little further into herself, not because she didn't like the praise, but because it made her feel so seen. She wasn't used to this, to being appreciated so openly, and the intensity of it made her shy.

But as she watched him eat, a different thought began to creep into her mind, one that made her pulse quicken. She wanted to kiss him again. Badly. The way his lips curved into a soft smile as he spoke, the way he licked a stray bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth—it all drew her in, leaving her with a quiet ache she didn't know how to voice. The realization made her blush even more, and she turned her gaze toward the floor, embarrassed by her own thoughts.

Harry, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in her demeanor. He set the container down for a moment, leaning back against the couch as he looked at her. "Y'alright?" he asked, his voice gentle but curious.

Aspen nodded quickly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her leggings. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, though her voice was quieter than usual. She glanced at him, and the intensity of his gaze made her heart stutter. "Just... thinking."

"Thinkin' about what?" Harry asked, tilting his head slightly. He had a feeling he knew, but he didn't want to push her too much. He could tell she was feeling shy, and the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

Aspen hesitated, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she looked down again, her blush deepening.

Harry couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped him. "Asp," he said, reaching out to take her hand in his. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, and the touch sent a shiver up her spine. "Y'don't have to say anything if you're not ready. But if i's about me, I'm all ears."

Aspen bit her lip, her gaze flickering up to meet his for a moment before dropping again. "I was just... thinking about... how much I liked—" She broke off, her face flaming as she stumbled over her words. "Never mind."

Harry's grin widened slightly, though his tone remained soft when he spoke. "How much you liked what? The food? Or somethin' else?"

She groaned softly, hiding her face in her hands. "Harry," she said, her voice muffled but filled with exasperation. "You're making it worse."

"Alright, alright," he said, laughing quietly. But he didn't let go of her hand, and the warmth of his touch was enough to steady her nerves. He was patient, waiting for her to speak when she was ready, and that alone made her feel a little braver.

"I was thinking about kissing you," Aspen finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She peeked at him through her fingers, her heart hammering in her chest. "And now I'm all embarrassed, so... yeah."

Harry stared at her for a moment, his chest tightening in a way he hadn't expected. She was so endearingly honest, even when it made her nervous, and he found himself falling for her all over again. "You're somethin' else, Asp," he murmured, his voice soft. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her temple. "Y'don't have to be embarrassed, love. I've been thinkin' the same thing."

Aspen's blush deepened, but this time, there was a small, shy smile tugging at her lips. "You have?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

"Course I have," Harry said, his tone gentle but firm. "Who wouldn't?"

Aspen fidgeted with her hands as she tucked her legs beneath her on the couch, her blush still lingering as she glanced shyly at Harry. The words danced on the edge of her tongue, but she hesitated, biting her lip as if she wasn't sure if she should say them. He waited, patient as ever, his eyes soft as they studied her face. Finally, she took a deep breath and let the words tumble out.

"Maybe it's the whole... 'I have a boyfriend' thing," Aspen murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, "but I've been thinking about you more than usual. Like... a lot more." She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes, her cheeks burning with the admission.

The corners of Harry's mouth curved into a slow, warm smile. His chest tightened at her honesty, and a wave of gratitude washed over him. He knew how much it took for Aspen to open up like this—how much courage it required for her to let him in on the thoughts she usually kept to herself. That bravery was one of the things he admired most about her.

"Y'know," he said softly, setting the half-eaten container of food aside, "you're so brave, Asp. For tellin' me all this. For lettin' me in." His voice was warm, laced with sincerity, as he leaned forward to take her hands in his. His thumbs traced gentle circles over her knuckles, his touch grounding her in the moment.

Aspen looked down at their hands, her lips curving into a shy smile. "It's easier with you," she admitted. "You make it... safe. Like I can say anything, and it'll be okay."

Harry's heart swelled at her words, and a quiet sense of wonder settled over him. He'd never expected to find someone like Aspen—someone who made him want to be better, softer, more present. He gave her hands a gentle tug, guiding her toward him.

"C'mere," he said, his voice low and coaxing. Aspen hesitated for only a moment before letting him pull her onto his lap. Her hands instinctively went to his shoulders for balance, and his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her securely.

She let out a small, breathy laugh, her cheeks flushing again as she settled against him. "This is so unfair," she mumbled, though her tone was more playful than anything.

"Unfair?" Harry repeated, raising a brow as he gave her a teasing grin. "How's this unfair?"

"You're too... you," she said, gesturing vaguely as if that explained everything.

Harry chuckled, his hands resting gently on her waist as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. His lips lingered there for a moment, and he couldn't help but take in the details of her outfit—the way the leggings hugged her legs, the way his shirt looked impossibly better on her than it ever had on him.

"You're wearin' my shirt," he teased, his voice a low murmur against her skin. His grin widened as he leaned back slightly to get a better look at her. "Didn't think you'd steal from me so soon, love."

Aspen's eyes widened, and she quickly tugged at the hem of the shirt, her blush deepening. "I didn't steal it!" she protested, though her voice was soft and her smile betrayed her. "You didn't mention needing it back, and it was... just there, and it's comfortable, so..."

"So y'stole it," Harry finished for her, his tone light and teasing.

She buried her face in her hands, letting out a soft groan. "You're impossible," she mumbled, though the warmth in her voice gave her away.

Harry laughed, his hand sliding up to gently pull her hands away from her face. "Impossible, huh? Guess that makes two of us," he said, his grin softening as he looked at her. His thumb brushed over her cheek, and he leaned in just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

For a moment, the world outside faded, leaving only the quiet hum of their connection. Aspen felt her heart steady, the nervous flutter settling into something warm and sure. Harry's presence had a way of grounding her, of making her feel like she could let go of the walls she'd spent so long building.

"You're somethin' else, Asp," Harry murmured, his voice filled with quiet reverence. "Y'know that?" Aspen bit her lip, her gaze meeting his. "I think you might've mentioned it," she said softly, her smile shy but genuine. Harry chuckled, leaning in to press a tender kiss to her temple. "Well, I'll keep sayin' it," he promised, his arms tightening around her. "Every chance I get."

Aspen’s fingers moved delicately along Harry’s shirt collar, their slow, rhythmic movements betraying the nervous energy coursing through her. She felt the soft material between her fingers, grounding herself in the moment, but all resolve slipped away when Harry pulled her closer. A small, involuntary sound escaped her lips, blending into a soft giggle as his lips curved into a smirk against hers.

Harry’s hands rested on her hips, his grip firm but reassuring. He tilted his head up to meet her lips, their familiar softness igniting a warmth in his chest. It had been too long—much too long—since he’d kissed her like this, and the moment felt like a long-awaited reunion. The cool press of his lip ring against her skin sent a shiver through her, its gentle nudges against her teeth a comforting reminder of their closeness.

For Harry, kissing Aspen always felt different—more intimate, more profound. Her lips molded perfectly against his, and the subtle gasps she made only fueled his desire to savor every second. It wasn’t just the act itself; it was the way she melted into him, the way her quiet trust was woven into every kiss.

Aspen slid her arms around his neck, her thumbs brushing lightly against the soft curls at the nape of his neck. The sensation made him hum low in his throat, the sound reverberating between them. Her touch was featherlight, reverent, and it made Harry feel cared for in a way he couldn’t quite describe.

Their kisses were slow and tender at first, each one a quiet confession of how much they’d missed this. But when Aspen tilted her head slightly, granting him better access, Harry’s lips parted. His tongue brushed against her bottom lip, and Aspen’s breath hitched. Without hesitation, she parted her lips, letting the kiss deepen.

The moment their tongues met, Aspen’s body instinctively leaned closer, her movements shy yet intentional. The languid motion of their tongues moving together sent a warmth coursing through her, spreading from her chest to her fingertips. Her thumbs brushed gently over the curls at the base of his neck, grounding her in the moment.

For Harry, it was as if time slowed. Every touch, every small sound Aspen made, was etched into his mind. His fingers tightened slightly on her hips as he sat up straighter, his head tilting to match the new depth of their kiss. The soft noise Aspen made from her nose—a quiet exhale laced with pleasure—sent a jolt through him. He didn’t want to stop, but the need to taste more of her overwhelmed him.

Reluctantly, Harry pulled away from her lips, but he didn’t stray far. His lips pressed gently to her jawline, tracing a line of tender kisses down to the side of her neck. Aspen tilted her head instinctively, granting him better access, her cheeks flushed with a deep blush that spread all the way to her neck. The warmth of his mouth against her skin made her dizzy in the best way, and she let her eyes flutter shut as she leaned into his touch.

Though this was only the second time Harry had kissed her like this, the intensity of it all overwhelmed Aspen in the best way. It wasn’t just the physicality of it—it was the way Harry’s touch felt deliberate, the way he seemed to cherish every inch of her. She buried her manicured nails gently into the curls at the back of his neck, her fingers tightening slightly as she let herself sink further into the moment.

Harry’s hands shifted, his fingers splaying out over her hips as they began to wander. He tested the waters carefully, his hands slowly moving toward the curve of her ass.

“This okay?” His voice was low, thick with want but tempered with care, his words murmured between kisses as his lips lingered against her skin.

Aspen’s breath caught at his question, but she nodded, her voice soft yet assured. “Yes,” she whispered, her tone trembling slightly but filled with trust. When Harry kissed that one particular spot on her neck, a breathy whine escaped her lips. “Yes, it’s okay,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry hummed in approval, the sound vibrating against her skin as he kissed her again, focusing on the spot that had made her gasp. His fingers moved lower, trailing over the curve of her ass before gripping gently, pulling her closer against him. She fit against him so perfectly, it almost made his head spin.

“You’re perfect,” Harry whispered against her skin, his lips brushing against her collarbone. He pressed wet, lingering kisses there, his teeth grazing her lightly, just enough to make her shiver. Aspen’s hands tightened in his curls, her soft breaths quickening.

The next sound she made was different, not quite a whine but unmistakably a moan. It was quiet, shy, as if she hadn’t meant for it to slip out, but it made Harry pause for a moment.

She had moaned for him, on his lap, in his office, because of what he was doing. 

Harry groaned softly against her neck, his lips trailing wet kisses along her skin. The nip he gave to her sweet spot drew a quiet gasp from Aspen, followed immediately by a soothing kiss that made her body relax under his touch. She felt warm, wrapped in the cocoon of his arms, and completely consumed by the moment—until a sharp sound jolted her out of it.

Her eyes shot open, her ears now hyper-focused on the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching the door. Panic shot through her like lightning, and her hands quickly slid down from Harry’s neck to his shoulders. She gave him a gentle but urgent push, scrambling off his lap and onto the seat beside him.

Harry blinked in confusion, leaning back against the cool leather as he tried to process what had just happened. His brows furrowed deeply, his green eyes clouded with concern. Had he done something wrong? The thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Asp?” His voice was low, tinged with worry as he studied her flushed face. “What happened? Did I—.”

Before he could finish his thought, Aspen shook her head frantically, her soft voice rushing out a series of breathless “no’s.” She was practically vibrating with nerves, her fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt when the door swung open.

There, standing with smug grins and bags of crisps in hand, were Zayn and Niall.

“We just came to check on how your homemade lunch was,” Zayn began, his tone dripping with mock innocence. His gaze flitted between Harry and Aspen, taking in their disheveled state. His grin widened. “But it’s very clear you need some alone time.”

Niall snickered beside him, not bothering to hide his amusement. Harry ran a hand through his wild curls, his face twisting into a scowl.

The picture Zayn painted wasn’t far off. Harry’s hair was a mess, his lips red and slick from their kisses, and Aspen’s face was a shade of crimson that matched the heat she felt radiating from her cheeks. They probably looked the part of being “busy,” and that only added to Harry’s irritation.

“Don’t you dipshits know how to knock?” Harry growled, his voice sharp as his glare bore into them. “Get the hell out.”

Zayn and Niall didn’t seem phased, their laughter echoing as they backed out of the room. They continued to crack jokes through the muffled door, their chatter trailing off as their footsteps faded.

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the sound of Harry letting out a long, exasperated sigh. He leaned back and turned his head to Aspen, his expression softening the moment he saw her face. She was burning red with embarrassment, her wide brown eyes fixed on the closed door as if willing it to lock on its own.

Harry chuckled softly, the sound low and warm as he reached out to brush her hair behind her ear. His fingertips lingered against her cheek, his touch gentle and grounding.

“That was somethin’, huh?” he said, his lips curving into a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry 'bout that, love. Was what I was doing okay? Didn’t scare you off, did I?”

Aspen let out a shaky breath, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as she tried to gather her thoughts. Slowly, her eyes peeled away from the door to meet Harry’s.

Her gaze took in everything about him—his unruly curls, his lips still glistening and swollen from their kisses, the cool glint of his lip ring catching the light. He looked confident and composed, as if the interruption hadn’t rattled him at all. It was unfair, really, how effortlessly handsome he was, and the realization only made her blush deepen.

“No, no…” Aspen’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper as she tried to convey her feelings. “It was good. I liked it. Really… liked it, H.”

Her words were sincere, and though her tone was laced with shyness, it carried a weight of gratitude. She appreciated how Harry always checked in with her, how he never took her silence or hesitation as anything but a reason to ensure her comfort.

Harry’s heart swelled at her honesty. He knew how much courage it took for her to open up, and every time she did, it felt like a gift. His lips curved into a small, lopsided grin as he hummed in approval.

“Mmm.” His fingers wrapped gently around her ankle, tugging her closer with ease. “Yeah?”

Before Aspen could process what was happening, Harry guided her down onto the seat, coaxing her to recline fully. She felt her heartbeat thunder in her chest, each pulse so loud she swore it echoed in her ears.

Her breath hitched when Harry nudged her thighs apart with his knee, settling himself between them. The closeness made her head spin, her fingers instinctively reaching up to tangle themselves in his curls at the nape of his neck once again.

Harry’s grin widened, playful and teasing as his gaze roamed over her. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and tinged with amusement as he kissed her shoulder and worked his way slowly up the side of her neck.

“’Cause I wasn’t done.”

[mistyffa]

Experiencing a deep need to make someone irresponsibly fat tonight lol

Cooking is already a big love language for me, and adding that to feedism is just so perfect. I wanna get up at 6:00 AM and fry up an enormous breakfast. Eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, waffles, all dripping with butter and syrup. Gotta make sure you get your nutrients in too, sooo I'll slice up some fruit and douse it in honey, blanch some spinach, put together a few slices of avocado toast, and blend up a protein shake - heavy cream instead of milk, of course. All that and a glass of orange juice should tide you over until noon. By the time you're up, I'll have a buffet's worth of food spread out on the bed around you.

After you're finished, and you've woken up from your post-breakfast food coma, we'll go out on the town so I can show you off. Stop by a few bakeries, who have our order memorized by now, maybe see how many laps you can do around the park before you need a break. Your old gait's been reduced to an awkward waddle, but I'll slow my pace just so I can watch you struggling to move your huge legs past each other with each step.

On the way home, we'd stop at a drive through or two - can't have you going hungry. And once we're finally back, you'd collapse onto the couch, face red and heart pounding. As soon as you're settled in, I'm back to the kitchen, cooking up lunch; grilled cheese sandwiches, tomato soup, a few bags of your favorite chips, a nice creamy chicken Caesar salad, a pint of your favorite ice cream, and a 2 liter of soda.

I've gotta stay trim, so once you're finished and fading off to sleep, I sneak out for a quick run, daydreaming of what I can cook for dinner. When I get home, you're cuddled up on the couch - you take up so much more space than you used to - still half-asleep, watching TV. The soda bottle I left for you has about a quarter left. I'd snuggle up next to you and pop the bottle open. One hand on your supple chin, I tilt your head up, and use the other to pour the rest of the sugary drink down your throat. Even though you're stuffed beyond compare, you don't complain anymore, you know the deal by this point. You take whatever I put in front of you. We'd spend the next couple hours on the couch, fading in and out of sleep, my hand on your belly the whole time, tracing your stretch marks with my nails and gripping your ever-growing rolls.

Dinner time. When you open your eyes, I'm already at the stove, cooking up a storm. Pot roast in the slow cooker, a whole baguette and homemade fries in the oven, dirty rice simmering on the stove. A sheet pan of mac n cheese cools off on the side. Next to it, we've got a bottle of wine and a few neatly rolled joints. All the smells start to lull you back to sleep, and you try to adjust your position on the couch, but nothing is quite comfortable enough due to your enormous legs and gut.

After I'm done cooking and plating everything, I wake you up and slowly guide you to the bedroom. After the first 200 pounds we had to move into a house without stairs; you simply couldn't manage them any more, and the stairwell was becoming a bit of a tight squeeze. I walk you right to the side of the bed and help you up. I take off the slippers you haven't been able to reach in months and help with your shirt too, the latest difficulty to present itself because of your unending gluttony and my unrelenting enabling. I stick a joint between your lips, light it, and make my way to the kitchen to gather the food.

Finally you get a moment of rest, and for a second the thought creeps in that maybe you've taken this all a bit too far, but the smell of the first dish wipes it away in an instant. I want you moving as little as possible, so I'll have you tell me what you want a bite of and feed it to you myself, caressing your tightening belly after each bite. Halfway through the meal, you start to groan about how you can't take anymore, but I shut that down with two glasses of wine and another joint. That seems to put you back in the mood. So, after your smoke break, I start back up, bringing bigger and bigger bites to your lips each time.

When you finally finish, you wipe a bit of melted cheese off your check and lay back with a sigh of relief. I straddle your legs, my toned thighs digging into your flabby ham hocks, and run my hands up and down the side of your massive, swollen gut, pushing lightly to try and give you some relief. As you start to doze off, I notice your eyes shutting and pull a candy bar out of the nightstand. I unwrap it and push it into your mouth, smiling as your lips curl around it. Every bite you take, I push it in a bit further, careful to make sure your mouth is always full. When you take the last bit, I grip your double chin, stare right into your docile eyes, and say

"I'll see you in the morning, hon."

[anotherspnfanfic]

Surprise Visits

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x reader

Word count: 2400

Warnings: seizure, epileptic reader, possible inaccuracies

Summary: Eddie shows up unexpectedly. Reader is glad he did for more than one reason.

A/N: This is only my second time writing for Eddie and last time it was a co-write. I did a whole bunch of research and had some proof reading from the lovely @thatonewriter15 and @muchamusedaboutnothing. Hopefully this is a somewhat accurate representation... 🤞🏻

Trudging up the stairs towards her apartment, she cursed the elevators for being broken. All she wanted to do was collapse into her bed and sleep for two days. Unfortunately, that was impossible since it was only Wednesday and she had an important meeting first thing in the morning.

Passing the third floor, she considered if she was going to eat before she went to bed. She was starving, but cooking seemed like too much effort and time. Then she considered having something delivered but guessed that would take even longer than cooking. She decided to just eat a spoonful of peanut butter so that she wasn’t battling hunger while trying to fall asleep.

Finally reaching the fifth floor, she exited the stairwell and took the four steps to her door. It was a small victory for climbing the stairs— at least she didn’t have further to go once she got to her floor.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open. Immediately, she dumped her purse, jacket, and laptop case on the floor beside the door before pulling her shoes off one at a time to drop in the pile.

Rounding the corner into the living room, she gasped. Her favorite scented candle was lit on the coffee table next to several containers of Chinese take-out. Eddie stood from the couch as she approached.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she let herself fall into his embrace.

He pecked a kiss to her temple as he pulled back to look at her. “You sounded a little overwhelmed when you called earlier. So I had Buck take Christopher for the night, and I brought you dinner.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she was overcome with emotions. “I love you. You are the best. I was about to eat some peanut butter because I’m too exhausted to cook or wait for delivery.”

“And let me guess, you’ve barely eaten anything all day?” he chastised.

She shrugged. “I had a bagel for breakfast.”

He pulled her over to sit on the couch. “I’m glad I came then.”

“I’m really glad you did.” She grabbed a fortune cookie while he started to open the other containers. “Are you staying all night?”

He nodded. “I’m all yours. Buck is taking Christopher to the zoo tomorrow.” He dumped some rice on the plates he’d gotten out of the kitchen. “Chicken, beef, or shrimp?”

“Some of each, please.” She set the fortune cookie back down as she stood. ”I’m gonna go change out of these work clothes. I’ll be right back.”

Before Eddie could even finish dishing up the food, she returned in sweats and a shirt she’d stolen from him.

As she sat back down, she picked up and opened the fortune cookie. She pulled out the piece of paper. “‘Life will soon become interesting,’” she read. “I think it’s already plenty interesting.”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, where’s the one that says we get a vacation soon?”

He finished adding everything to their plates as she flipped on the television and started an episode of How I Met Your Mother.

They ate in a comfortable silence and had finished before the twenty-minute episode had ended. He set the mostly-empty plates on the table, and she shifted to curl in against his side while he wrapped his arm snugly around her shoulder.

As the credits rolled, he asked, “Bed or another episode?”

She yawned. “One more. I’m probably going to fall asleep, but I’m comfy.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead as the TV rolled over into a new episode on its own. “As you wish, mi amor.”

She had just started to doze off when, suddenly, she was overcome with a familiar, distinct, full-body tingling sensation along with intense nausea. She quickly shifted to leaning forward on the edge of her seat. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

Eddie reached out and placed a tentative hand between her shoulder blades. “What’s wrong?”

She stood and moved over to the empty dining room, which she kept devoid of a table and other furniture precisely for this reason. “Seizure,” she stated as calmly as she could before lying down in the middle of the floor.

“Oh, uh, okay.” Eddie was surprised, but quickly stood. He grabbed a blanket from the recliner and moved to sit beside her. He knew about her epilepsy and the medications she took for it. However, in the eighteen months they’d been dating, she’d never had a seizure. He lifted her head to slide the folded blanket underneath.

She let out a quiet whimper before her eyelids fluttered closed.

“Okay. You’re okay. I got you.” He pulled out his phone, opened the timer, and set it on the floor. He continued to whisper soft reassurances to her and started the timer as soon as she started to seize.

Despite his training and having treated patients with seizures at work, he couldn’t help but notice the way his hands shook as he carefully kept her rolled on her side. “You’re okay,” he repeated, more to reassure himself than anything. He continued to repeat it several more times as he waited for her to stop.

He felt his anxiety spike again as he watched the timer hit four minutes. He thought about what time it was, trying to figure out which shift was manning the 118 currently. He knew if she hit five minutes, he would have to call 9-1-1. As the timer rolled past four and a half minutes, her movements finally began to slow. He breathed a sigh of relief and pushed some hair out of her face as she stilled. Next, he used the corner of the blanket to wipe the saliva that had dribbled out.

For his own peace of mind, he checked her pulse, satisfied that it was steady and only slightly tachy. Next, he counted her breaths, ensuring her breathing was also back to normal. Then he sat there, running his fingers gently through her hair, and waited for her to wake.

Finally, after several minutes of anxiously waiting, she groaned.

“Hey, sweetheart. You with me?”

Slowly, she cracked her eyes open and looked around for several moments before finally landing on his face. She was clearly confused and still disoriented.

“You’re okay. You just had a seizure,” he explained. “Do you remember feeling it coming on?”

She thought for a minute before finally nodding. Groaning again, she rolled onto her back and threw an arm over her face. “Trash,” she slurred.

Eddie shifted away to grab the trash can sitting in the corner and move it beside her. “Do you want to sit up?”

“Not yet.” She lied there, trying to regain her bearings.

He took her hand in his and ran his thumb softly over her knuckles. “Anything I can do?”

“Mmmm, make the jackhammer in my head stop? And the nausea, too.” She rolled back onto her side before starting to push herself into a sitting position and pulling the trash can between her knees. “This blows.”

Leaning forward, he placed a chaste kiss on her temple. “I know. I’m sorry. Do you want something for the headache?”

“Not yet. I don’t want to puke it right back up.”

She didn’t know how long she sat there, taking slow, deep breaths in an attempt to clear the nausea. All the while, Eddie rubbed soothing circles across her back. The soreness was already starting to settle in all her muscles. Eventually, she pushed away the trash can and leaned into him.

“Ya know, this isn’t the kind of interesting I was hoping for. Stupid fortune cookie,” she grumbled.

“Me either. You think you’re ready to move?” he asked as he wrapped his arms around her gently.

“Yeah.” She nodded. He stood, and she reached a hand out for him. “Help me up?”

Instead of pulling her up, he bent down and slid one arm under her knees and the other around her back and easily lifted her. He walked slowly towards her bedroom, cautious of making the nausea worse, then set her gently on the bed. “What do you need?”

“Uh, I will take that Tylenol now. Plus, water and some Advil for in the morning, and the trash can by the bed,” she listed, then, with a pout, added, “Please?”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

She laid back into her pillows as she waited for him to return. Next thing she knew, she was peeling her eyes open to find Eddie beside her, rubbing a hand across her head.

“Here, take these and then you can go to sleep.” He handed her the pills and then opened a bottle of water before offering that as well.

Once she’d swallowed them, she took a few deep breaths to clear the flare of nausea. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He pressed another kiss to her hairline.

“As much as seizures suck, it’s really nice having you here to help. I’ve just slept on the floor in there so many times because I just didn’t have the energy to move.”

“I’m glad I was here. I hate that you’ve had to go through that alone.”

“I hate that I have to go through it at all.” She sighed. “And I just broke my longest streak. At least I didn’t try to take a chunk out of my tongue.”

“Ouch.”

She nodded. “Yeah, one time, I had to get stitches from biting it so bad.”

He cringed. “That sounds awful.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, eyes fluttering closed. “Work is really going to suck tomorrow.”

“No, it won’t.” Eddie argued. ”You’re taking the rest of the week off.”

“I can’t!’ she declared, opening her eyes and leaning forward. “I have too many things to get done and a meeting first thing that we’ve been working toward for three weeks.”

“You just had a seizure,” he pointed out the obvious. “For the first time in, what, two years? And a long one at that. You were about twenty seconds away from a trip to the hospital. You don’t think your stress levels had something to do with this?” His tone was one of frustration, but she could tell he was just worried.

She sighed, knowing he was right. “Maybe.”

Eddie climbed into the other side of the bed and settled nearly in the middle. “So take the long weekend. Just relax and get some rest. Doctor’s orders.”

Shifting to curl into his side, she giggled. “You’re not a doctor.”

He huffed. “Medic’s orders. Is that better? Or I can call a doctor.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Rolling impossibly closer to her, he pressed one more kiss to her forehead. “Good night, mi amor.”

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was her alarm clock. She was surprised to find it was nearly ten already. Slowly, she shifted onto her back and turned her head to look at the other side of the bed. She found Eddie sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone.

“Good morning,” he greeted as he noticed she was awake. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Just a bit sore. Which is pretty much what I expected.” She took Eddie’s hand in hers. “And maybe a little grateful that I got to sleep in and I don’t have to get up and go to work.”

He lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. “You needed it.”

“Oh, shit!” she panicked. “I didn’t call. I missed the meeting. I’m gonna get fired!”

Eddie shushed her. “I called. Just breathe. It’s okay. I called earlier and talked to your boss. He knows you’ll be out today and tomorrow and told me to tell you to take Monday also, if you need to.”

She took a deep breath and let herself relax. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Of course. How about some breakfast?”

“Mmm. Yes, please.”

Eddie let go of her hand and got up off the bed. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared out of the room, and she could hear him moving around her kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a plate and set it on the bed in front of her.

She looked up at him, surprised. “Since when do you make omelettes?”

“Uhh, well, never?” He laughed. “I may have called in reinforcements. Bobby dropped it off earlier. I just reheated it according to his very direct instructions.”

“Eddie! I could have just had some cereal or something. You didn’t need to make him drive over here so early on his day off.” She reached over to grab her phone off the nightstand.

“I figured you could use real food. I was going to order delivery, but Bobby offered.”

“Why would he have offered?” She opened Bobby’s contact to send him a thank you text. “Oh. You told him about last night.”

“I couldn’t fall asleep. Then they were all texting in the group thread. So when they asked why I was still up, I told them. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have without asking you first.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not like my epilepsy is a secret. They’re your—our— friends. I’m sure I would have told them anyway.”

He nodded. “Okay. Eat and then you can go back to sleep for a bit. If you want.”

She cut a piece off the omelette and ate it. As she chewed, she spoke, “Bobby says we’re invited over there for dinner if I’m feeling up to it. I told him we would let them know a little later today.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

She took another bite of her food. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Shaking his head, he explained, “I ate earlier.”

“Oh, right.” She glanced at the clock. “I forgot it was so late already.”

“Anything else I can get for you?”

She contemplated for a moment. “Umm, maybe a glass of apple juice?”

He disappeared from the room with a simple nod.

Soon after he returned, she finished her omelette and he took the plate into the kitchen.

“Did you want to go back to sleep?” he asked.

“How about a shower and then a movie on the couch?” she countered, throwing off the blankets she was still tucked under. As she stood, dizziness flared, causing her to sway slightly before sitting back down.

Eddie was in front of her instantly, steadying her. “How about a bath instead?”

“Sounds perfect.”

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | feb 20 shiver | words: 864

yeah, so, someone said they would like a part 2 to this so i wrote it. i don’t know if it’s any good but here it is, hope y’all like it (also sorry for all the mistakes, english still isn’t my first language)

next part 👀

“He just stayed over for dinner, Sirius. It was a ‘thank you’ for helping me with Gigi” James repeated for what felt like a hundredth time.

“Oh, I know your ‘thank yous’. Don’t try to fool me, I haven’t met you yesterday” Sirius laughed through the phone. James was surprised his best friend didn’t get mad at him for spending the evening with said friend’s brother.

He was expecting the man to throw a tantrum about it, that’s why he called Moony and asked for Sirius as soon as Regulus left his flat with the dog.

“You know, it’s kind of your fault. Why would you leave your phone to your brother? If you hadn’t done that nothing would have happened!”

“So, something did happen?” James heard the cheeky smile even though he couldn't see it and simply groaned at the response he received. Sirius could be his best friend, who James loved dearly, but he could also piss him off like nobody else.

“Don’t change the subject, just- why did he have your phone? I really was terrified with the whole situation and as if it wasn’t enough I almost got a heart attack because you really didn’t have your phone and I didn’t know who got my address, and if they wouldn’t ki-“

“Okay, James, breathe” he heard from the other side. He did just that. “Now, stop spiralling. He had my phone, because I left it there on my way to the venue. He was fucking with you, you know how he is” Sirius explained calmly and James felt a little better. But then “While we’re on the topic of fucking-“

“I’m hanging up” his bestie just barked a laugh at that.

“Yeah, Reggie’s here anyways, I have to pester him now. Bye, love ya” and with that Sirius ended the call.

James breathed heavily and slumped into the couch. Excluding the Gigi incident, the evening was really nice - he and Regulus prepared the butter chicken together (using tofu instead of chicken since Reg doesn’t eat meat). They laughed at what the vet said about them not being good uncles to the dog and talked about their lives. James knew from Sirius that Regulus went to art school but still listened eagerly as the younger man talked about his latest project.

“You should come to the opening. I think you’ll like it” Regulus said midway through his dish. He also smirked when James started choking on his rice. After a moment he calmed down, whipping his face with a napkin.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll try to make it. When is it exactly?” he asked, pretending like nothing happened just seconds ago. Regulus laughed at him, sounding so very sweet again, and James tried to hide the small smile and blush that appeared on his face.

“Next Friday at 8” the black-haired man replied simply, going back to his meal. He looked so soft and peaceful sitting at the table, the older man felt a need to squish him tightly, because what the fuck - how can someone look so pretty?

With James’ internal crisis and Regulus’ quiet chewing they fell into a comfortable silence. It was new to James - usually, while eating with his parents and friends, it was very loud, everyone talking and laughing all the time. But it was nice - to just sit and enjoy a dinner together.

When they were finished Regulus took Gigi and said he’ll drop her off at Sirius’. James just thanked him again, walking the other man down the hall. When Regulus was out, he turned over his shoulder and smiled warmly.

“See you next Friday” he said and walked to the elevator. James didn’t even have a chance to reply as the younger man disappeared behind the metal door.

He took another deep breath and went to his bathroom, taking a quick shower and preparing to go to sleep. He was halfway through his skincare routine when his phone beeped. As always, he didn’t bother checking it while he’s having his alone time, but as soon as he laid his head on the pillow he opened the unread message.

Unknown

Sirius is fucking mad

Whatever he says to you - do NOT believe him

He’s delusional, I swear

It’s Regulus, by the way

James felt a pleasant shiver going down his spine. Regulus didn’t ask for his numer, but apparently took it from Sirius’ phone. Sneaky little thing he was.

James

didnt expect you to be not only a murderer but also a thief

and i know your brothers mad ive known him half my life

Reg

I’m not a thief, I’m THE thief

If I managed to steal your number maybe I’ll be able to steal some of your time ;)))

THAT MESSAGE WAS FILLED WITH SARCASM

James laughed at that.

James

yeah sure

you can steal as much of my time as you want

THAT MESSAGE WAS ABSOLUTELY NOT FILLED WITH SARCASM

The reply didn’t come right away. He could see the three dots appearing and disappearing every now and then, though. And when it finally came, James just smiled at it.

Reg

You’re being cheesy, please don’t act like that at the opening

[loftec]

Hi, I saw you talking about your savory oats breakfast, and how much you love it, and I honestly didn’t understand how someone could be so excited about oatmeal? But I tried making it because I have mushrooms and wanted something warm and salty and HOLY WOW I totally understand you now, that was so freaking good. New breakfast unlocked.

I LOVE THIS I'm so happy to assist the unlocking of new breakfasts. Also, have two more random savoury oats recipes that I've cobbled together (I don't eat these for breakfast, oddly enough they feel more like lunches or dinners, but that's just because they're based on "full" dishes I normally make for dinner):

Loftec's oat cookbook part two, I guess 🍲

(Also sorry about starting this answer ages ago, putting it in the drafts and then never finishing or posting it! Until now!)

Oatotto

The bastard oat son of risotto, Italians avert your eyes!!

This is based on the risotto recipe I usually make, but takes a LOT less time when the rice doesn't have to cook. The risotto is obviously better because it's risotto, but this is a really good way to do some savoury oats.

Serves one 1 large mushroom 1 small onion (I use a shallot) Butter or oil for frying Thyme Splash of white cooking wine if you have it (Optional: zest of half a smallish lemon) 2,5 dl Water or stock, I use a mushroom soup base bouillon I happen to have right now, if I didn't have it I'd use water and 1/2 mushroom stock cube. Pepper 1 dl oats 1 tsp miso A pleasing amount of frozen peas Juice of half a lemon (or to taste of pre-squeezed juice, obviously it's nice with fresh lemon but bottled lemon juice is fine, we're making oats) 1 tbsp nutritional yeast (or some Parmesan-adjacent cheese if you have it! We're making oatotto!)

In a small pot, stir-fry the thinly sliced mushroom, chopped onion and thyme in some butter or oil on high heat until the onion is translucent. Add wine and lemon zest if you have it. Pour over water/stock and lower the heat once the stock has come to a boil. Pepper pepper pepper, and add oats. On lowest heat, let the oats cook and stir occasionally. Once it gets a bit gloopy, add miso and stir in, and then add the pleasing amount of frozen peas and lemon juice. Stir until peas defrost and the gloop reaches your desired consistency. Add yeast or cheeeeeeese!

カレーオーツ - Japanese Curry Oats

Serves one 1 large mushroom (it's a theme) 1 small onion (shallot) 1 small carrot Butter or oil to fry 2,5 dl water Pepper 1 dl oats 1 medium size finely chopped tomato 1/2 cube Japanese curry roux (I'm a Golden gal, I keep the open package wrapped in some extra plastic in the fridge, hasn't gone bad yet)

Halt! Do not finely slice the mushroom! This is a Japanese Curry, the mushroom should either be a larger number of whole TINY button mushrooms, or a larger mushroom chopped into 6 or 8 pieces. Very important! Roughly chop the carrot into bits that are the same size as the mushroom and cut the onion into slices lengthwise (these are my curry rules, you can make your own according to what comforts you).

Stir-fry mushroom, carrot and onion on high heat until onion becomes translucent. Add water and pepper, and bring to low heat. Add oats and stir occasionally while it cooks on lowest heat until it's almost done. Add the finely chopped tomato and the curry roux, stirr until the roux has dissolved, the tomato is warm and the gloop is good. Test and make sure the curry is good, if not enough curry add more curry roux.

I would garnish this with some baby mayo and aonori, and if you're feeling fancy and have it at home, shallow-fry some approximation to a schnitzel, slice and put on top. I have a bag of frozen vegan schnitzels in the freezer and I never know what to do with them besides putting them on a Japanese curry.

[tightjeansjavi]

Slow Hands | Chapter 8

“If I ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself”

A/N: This chapter has taken me weeks to write, but I am so happy with the final results. This is another doozy, so tread carefully. Thank you for your endless support and love. 🤍

~word count: 7.0k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: Joel tells you what happened to him and Ellie before they returned to Jackson.

Warnings: angst, anxiety, trauma, mentions of death, child loss, grief, fluff, flirting, another almost kissing situation, lots of flashbacks, mentions of a miscarriage, mild alcohol consumption, Joel gets a little shy, hurt, comfort, protective! Joel, Joel whump, mentions of alcohol consumption, self deprecating thoughts/actions, anger, frustration, alluding to past traumas, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, reader's nickname is beanie (coffee beans) +18, minors dni! heed the warnings please this is a very very heavy chapter.

main masterlist masterlist

Angie was a real sweetheart. A country classic that you’d want to play over and over again. Toffee butter sweet with pure southern charm. She was one of the kitchen staff ladies working in the mess hall. She loved to cook. She prepared food straight from her soul that warmed the hearts, and kept all the bellies full in Jackson. Her bubbly spirit was a decoy to mask her ceaseless grief that weighed heavy on her mangled heartstrings that were poorly sewn back together with a dull needle and thread. She recently went through a misscarriage. The brutal endless cycle of life in all its beauty and cruelty swinging like a pendulum. Angie was forever grateful when you and Joel appeared on her doorstep with Honey the fawn tucked protectively in your arms.

“She miscarried last fall. Right before the leaves started turnin.’” He whispered softly to you as he reached up and thrummed his knuckles against the chipped paint on the wooden doorframe.

Angie struggled to let go of her loss. She held onto the hand-me down infant clothes. The baby booties, swaddling cloths and the bottles. Grief causes even the strongest people to break as the world as they know it shatters around them. They try to claw and grasp what little remains of that person, whether they existed in the world yet did not matter. Angie took one look at that innocence bundled in your arms and she immediately darted off to the kitchen. She returned moments later with a swaddling cloth and baby bottle that showed the faint remnants of little hearts and flowers. The decals were peeling upwards like a bandaid, but it was a small token of kindness that this poor woman had to offer for the cost of nothing.

Joel thanked her with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. Tender hands that could bruise, tender hands that could heal.

Angie only could nod as she quickly wiped away her dewy tears that rolled down her cheeks and dripped down the curve of her chin. Her eyes were glassy, her lower lip trembled under the soft blooming glow of the porchlight overhead. She reached one quivering hand out to gently stroke the soft fur on Honey’s head.

A moment of silence followed by the swishing sound of the front door slamming shut.

Oh, Angie. You deserved so much better than the cards you were dealt.

The walk back to Joel’s home was one in deafening silence. He kicked a stray rock along the ground with the toe of his boot as his arms hung at his slides. He appeared to be deep in thought as you tried to meet his gaze. He was as hard as a stone with furrowed brows. Grief was so prominent, even in a town that was built around ‘peace.’ Grief was there in every corner. Every crack and crevice down to a grain of rice. Even in a garden of Eden, grief sprouted from the stems.

“She likes you.” He murmured gently as he pushed open his front door with a soft huff through his chapped lips. “Honey.” He added.

“I hope she survives the night.” Was the first thought that popped up into your mind as you met his thoughtful gaze.

“She will. She’s n’good hands with you’n me.” He reassured you as his hand came to gently rest along your lower back as he nudged you tenderly inside as the front door softly swung shut behind you.

Honey had curiously peeked her head up from the safety of your flannel to observe her new surroundings as you slowly walked towards the well loved couch in the living area. Your knees cracked noticeably as you sank down onto the cushion.

“Y’want anythin’ to eat or drink while I warm some milk up for our little one?” Joel asked you as he padded towards the kitchen. Seconds later you heard the soft squeak of the refrigerator door opening as you sunk further into the plush cushions.

“Oh, that’s alright. Thank you for asking.”

“Not a problem, darlin.’” He hummed soothingly under his breath as he turned the burner on the stove. Once the milk was adequately warm, but not too hot, he poured it into the baby bottle. It was hard for a wave of nostalgia to not pass through him as he slowly blinked.

“S’matter baby girl? Y’want your baba? S’okay, daddy’s gonna get it for ya.” a considerably younger Joel spoke to baby Sarah in her crib. On the nights she couldn’t sleep, he’d fix her a warm bottle of milk and rock her to sleep on the old rocking chair that he and Tommy built with their bare hands. He’d sing lullabies in her ear and kiss her little head of soft curls.

Fuck.

He stared down at the baby bottle that was nearly engulfed by the sheer mass of his hand as his thumb slowly brushed across one of the peeling faded floral decals.

Fuck.

Keep it together, Joel.

Be still, my foolish heart. Be still.

Please.

God, please.

I’m good.

I’m fine.

Really, I’m okay.

God, she was so tiny.

Used to nearly fit in the palm of my hand.

Remember when she would cry and cry and cry?

Only person that could calm her down was you.

“Joel?” Your voice sounded so far from his reach as if he was across the ocean desperately trying to hone in the almost sweet music of your voice. Not here, not now. Please. He couldn’t shake the feeling of crisp trepidation as he slowly sunk down to his knees in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Breathe.

Breathe.

In and out.

Through your nose, out through your mouth.

Y’can do it.

She was so tiny. So pure. She was my babygirl.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to wail and throw his fists up towards the heavens but instead he sat in stoic silence as his ears rang like a mocking symphony that had him cowering from the harsh reality that he was presently facing.

“Joel?..” There you were again, but closer. Much closer as you went to investigate. The sight that laid before you took your breath away in a morbid fashion. Joel Miller on his knees looking like a man that had the weight of the world constantly pushing down on his aching shoulders. He was vulnerable in this state. He looked ten times smaller with his chin tightly tucked into his collarbone as if he was trying to appear as small as physically possible.

Your heart split in two to see him in this state as you slowly sank down to your knees in front of him. Grief was indescribable. It gnawed at a person with jagged teeth and sharp claws. A constant reminder that what you once held in your grasp, was no longer attainable. It was ripped from the roots, dry and brittle as precious life is stolen so swiftly.

His lips moved as he struggled to speak. To say anything, but nothing. No words could be formed as he stared down at the bottle in his hand. The slightest flinch from your unsuspecting touch upon his cheekbones as the palms of your hands gently caressed his face. “You okay?..” You asked in a hushed tone, keeping the octave of your voice level and gentle.

“No.” He murmured in defeat as his freehand slowly traveled up the length of your arm before resting along your cheek with the utmost delicate care.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You wanted to give him that choice. The open space to speak his feelings only if he chose to.

“Dunno. I jus’ needed to sit down.” He confirmed with a soft wheeze as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

“That’s okay, Joel. Sitting is good. It’s alright to rest. I’m right here.” You were, and you weren’t going anywhere.

“She was jus’ so tiny. Tiniest lil bean. With the cutest toes. A button nose. Used to have to give her a bottle at night when she couldn’t sleep. Would sit with her in the rockin’ chair for hours, singin’ her lullabies.” He croaked out as his chin slowly lifted as his dull faded eyes met yours.

You knew he was speaking of Sarah, and you also recognized his silent desperation for comfort. The baby bottle clutched in his trembling hand was the root cause for his current episode. Loss was so difficult to rationally explain sometimes. It was something that couldn’t be journalized as being the same for every person, because every single human being reacted in a different way. Loss was universal, and inevitable, but dealing with the grief that followed was structurally diverse in its nature.

“She was one lucky baby, getting to have you as her father. She loves you so much, Joel. She’s right here.” You slowly dropped one of your hands down from his face and gently rested it against the left side of his chest, right where his heart lay. “She’s always going to be right here.”

“Jus’ miss her so much. S’been creepin’ up on me lately. Feel like I’m seein’ her everywhere.” He felt discouraged as he slowly shook his head with a heavy sigh. “Thank you for being here with me. You don’t understand how much that means to me. To have..someone jus’ understand me.”

“I know how much you miss her, Joel. It’s better to let yourself feel everything instead of bottling it all up. I know how much it means to you. I’ll always be here to listen, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Hope to have you till the end of my days.

“Should–should probably give this to Honey before it gets too cold..” He trailed off as his thumb gently brushed across your cheekbone.

“Do you want to give it to her?..I bet she’d love it if you did. After all, you are the one who saved her.” You offered purely to encourage him only if he desired to.

“I’d love that. Help me up? Knees are feelin’ a little stiff.”

“Mine too.” You murmured as you slowly stood up and offered him your hand.

A ghost of a smile crossed over his features as he grasped your hand in his and pulled himself up from the floor.

He followed you into the living room where Honey was curled up in a fluffy little ball on the end of the couch. Her head perked up when she could smell the milk in the bottle as she struggled to stand on wobbly legs. Joel was right there to aid her as he gently scooped her up under his arm. Her fluffy little white tail wagged excitedly as she let out soft little bleating noises that sounded more like squeaks if anything.

“S’alright, baby. Got your bottle right here f’ya. Daddy’s got it for ya.” He softly cooed to the tiny creature.

You swore you saw a silent tear trail down his weathered cheek when Honey began to nurse from the baby bottle all the while he was gently petting down her tawny colored ears, and humming under his breath soothingly.

When Honey had consumed every last drop from the bottle she curled up right against Joel’s chest. She felt safe in the presence of you and Joel, which was quite obvious from the way she made herself right at home. Joel was careful to not disturb the sleeping creature as he reached his arm over and set the now empty bottle onto the nearby coffee table. The two of you fell into a comfortable relaxed silence, until the rumbling of Joel’s stomach interrupted it. The last meal he had was around breakfast time, and there wasn’t much substance to it. A cup of coffee, slightly rubbery scrambled eggs, and toast with butter. His appetite had been long forgotten since he and Tommy had stumbled upon the gruesome scene of the deceased doe while on patrol. Time seemingly had gone by in a whirlwind, and judging by the late evening light, it was far past dinnertime.

He shifted uncomfortably when his stomach rumbled again. This time it caught your attention from where you were sitting on the opposite end of the couch. You were currently reading one of Joel’s many coffee table books. Exploring Space, Dinosaur facts, The American Mustang, Woodworking for Dummies. You had chosen The American Mustang, and as soon as you heard his stomach grumble for the 5th time, you gently closed the book with your finger holding the page down before you looked over at him.

“Did you eat today, Joel?”

“Jus’ a bite of breakfast this mornin.’ Coffee, toast, and slightly rubbery eggs. Had the pan on a bit too high.” He softly responded as he lifted his chin slightly in your direction.

“I didn’t have much to eat today either. I could make us something?”

“Darlin,’ you ain’t gotta do that. You’re my guest after all. It wouldn’t be right if I just let ya cook f’me.” He was already attempting to gently lift Honey from her curled up position on his chest when you reached your hand out and gently grasped his forearm.

“Joel, it’s okay. I really don’t mind at all. We both should eat something.” You gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze before you pushed yourself up from the couch.

His eyes slowly followed your movements into the kitchen as he let out a deep sigh. “Y’know, it’s times like these where I wish that takeout still existed. What I wouldn’t do for a pizza right now.” He mumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Dominos, or Papa Johns? You better answer wisely, Miller.” You peeked your head around the corner with a playful smile playing on your lips.

“S’that even a question? Papa Johns. I’d order extra of those goddamn garlic sauces because the amount they gave you was truly never enough. I wish they would have started selling it in tubs or somethin.’” He stifled a chuckle. “Dominos was a last minute resort that I regretted every goddamn time.”

“That garlic dipping sauce was to die for. There was also that really good family owned pizza place on Main Street. Napoli Per Tutti I think is what it was called? They had the best Neapolitan pizza that I ever had the pleasure of trying.” You chatted casually as you opened his fridge.

“Darlin,’ you’re killin’ me over here with all this pizza talk. I actually never tried that place before. Sarah mentioned it a few times, but we Millers like to stick to our roots.” He chimed in as he managed to very carefully, and very gently, move Honey off of his chest and onto the couch where he then proceeded to cocoon her in a blanket that was draped across the armrest of the couch.

“I don’t know the first thing about making a Neapolitan pizza, but I can certainly try? That’s assuming that you have all the basic ingredients of course.” You could hear the wooden floorboards creak under the weight of his feet as you slowly turned around with your arms across your chest. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

He sheepishly grinned and rubbed the back of his neck with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Can’t stay away when there’s pizza involved, darlin.’”

“Fair enough. All we’ll need for the dough is flour, yeast, water, salt, and I think olive oil?”

“Well, we definitely have flour..water and salt. Olive oil maybe, but does it expire? I haven’t done much cookin’ around here lately so I really don’t know what I've got in the cupboards.” He stepped around you with his arm just barely grazing yours as he opened up one of the many cupboards in the kitchen. “I’ll be damned. Guess we do have yeast and olive oil jus’ layin’ around here.” He reached for the packet of yeast and the bottle of olive oil before setting them down on the counter.

There was something oddly comforting for the two of you to be putzing around the kitchen like an old married couple. You fit right into Joel’s domestic budding life without even grasping the idea of it just yet. You worked together at making the dough, but once it came down to the kneading part, you let Joel take over. Maybe it was your cheeky plan all along to see his hands at work, or perhaps it was totally innocent. Regardless, it was hard to not let your wandering eyes drift across his exposed skin where he had rolled up the sleeves of his flannel revealing strong, veiny forearms. Some areas of his skin were littered in scars, and indentations from years of survival, but his hands were the main part of the show. Strong, weathered, yet gentle as he didn’t want to knead the dough too much. The tendons in his fingers flexed as his eyes drifted upwards towards you.

Gotcha.

“Like what ya see?” He rasped with a teasing grin.

Fuck, were you really staring that long?

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as a nervous laugh bubbled up your throat. You struggled to find your words. “Joel, i’m so sorry I shouldn’t–”

“Hey, Beanie? S’alright. You can stare for as long, and as much as you’d like.” He reassured you with a slight nod of his head.

So, this is where you flirt back.

OH!

Right.

“You just..have really attractive hands.” You murmured softly.

Joel cocked a brow at your answer as he looked over at you. “My..hands? What about ‘em are attractive?” He held the same genuine curiosity like the time you had complimented his eyes.

“Well they’re just..strong looking? Maybe that’s not the right verbiage that I'm going for here.” You trailed off.

“S’you don’t mind that they’re a lil rough lookin'?’ Take this hand for example, I’m pretty sure it never really properly healed after I beat the livin’ daylights outta a FEDRA soldier shortly after Tess and I agreed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Sometimes I’ll get like these ghost pains n’my knuckles is what I like to call ‘em.” He shrugged as he grabbed a towel to wipe the flour off from his hands.

“No, I don’t mind at all. I’d honestly be surprised if your hands weren’t at least a little bit damaged. Y’know? I get what you mean with the ghost pains. I get them too, but usually in my wrists and ankles. It’s almost like a tingling sensation.”

Joel felt his heart slowly sink to the pit of his stomach like the sun gradually dipping behind the horizon. It was easy for him to draw the conclusion as to why you’d feel these sensations in your wrists and ankles. There were visible scar indentations along the inside of your wrists. Based on the scarred tissue, it was probably due to them being bound together by zip ties, rope, or possibly even chains. He felt a shiver roll down his spine when he remembered the charred women in the forest having their wrists and ankles bound together by chains.

“Well, I think your hands are beautiful too, Beanie.” He murmured.

I think you're more beautiful than the stars, sun, and moon combined.

You smiled at him. That same soft smile that sent his heart beat skipping every time he was graced by the simple beauty of it. It was as if there was a magnetic force between the two of you that was working on overdrive to bring the two of you closer in proximity.

“Thank you, Joel. I’ve got a real nasty nail biting habit that spurs up every so often. I guess..after you brought me home from the bar, I absolutely tore my nails to shreds, but I had no recollection of it happening..”

“If it makes ya feel any better, I also have a nasty habit of picking at the skin around my nails till it bleeds. Ellie’s yelled at me for it numerous times, but no matter what I do, I can’t stop.”

“Maybe we can help each other break these habits? Or, at least show encouragement when we’re struggling?” You suggested.

“Yeah, I'd like that a lot actually. It’ll be a good way to hold ourselves accountable. Lord knows I need to sometimes.” He agreed. “Well, this dough is gonna have to sit for a bit before we can roll it out..whad’ya wanna do in the meantime?” He had his hands resting along the edge of the countertop that was lightly dusted in flour as he awaited your response.

“That’s a good question. Do you happen to have any records? Maybe we could listen to one? I have a good feeling in my bones that you have impeccable music taste.” You mused with a small grin spreading across your lips.

“Y’know, I actually do have a box of records in the living room. They ain’t mine, unfortunately. They were here when I moved in. There’s a lot of classics in the collection though. I’m sure we can find somethin’ that we both enjoy.” He tilted his head towards the direction of the living room.

You let Joel lead the way as he showed you the box containing the records. There was everything from the Beatles, Prince, Queen, Zeppelin, Frank Sinatra, and so on. “Well,” You started, “whoever lived here, clearly loved their music.”

“Ain’t that right.” his tone was slightly rasped as you made yourself comfortable on the floor with your legs crossed.

“You want a pillow?” He asked softly. “Might be a lil’ more comfy.”

You gave him a small nod in response as you began to carefully flip through the record albums.

He grabbed two pillows from the nearby couch without disturbing Honey before he joined you on the floor.

“Who’s your favorite? I know it’s a tough choice t’make. I don’t even think I could narrow mine down to five.” He chuckled warmly as he rested his weight back on his hands.

“Oh, gosh. I also don’t know if I could narrow it down..Stevie is definitely at the top of my list.”

“Ah, yeah. She was incredible. I was a big fan of Linda Ronstadt back in the day. Although, growin’ up, there wasn’t a song or artist that I didn’t enjoy.”

You slowly looked over at him as your fingers gently played with a torn edge on one of the records. “Was music a big part of your life?..Before, y’know.” You chose your words carefully as you watched him take a deep inhale.

“Yeah, it was. Used to be a big dreamer, believe it or not. Always wanted t’be a singer. Taught myself how to play the guitar, wrote a few songs here and there. None of them were very good, but I got a lotta joy out of it. Then when Sarah was born, I knew I had’to hold down a real job, and push that dream to the backburner. Spent a lot of time playin’ the guitar for her though. She loved it. Used to tease me n’tell me that I had a god awful singin’ voice.” He snickered.

Your giggle was soft, sweet, floating like a warm breeze. “Hey, I’m sure your singing isn’t that bad! It's wonderful that you found a lot of joy in that hobby. What about now? Do you still play the guitar here and there? Perhaps..sing in the shower like the rest of us?”

“Wouldn’t ya like t’know?” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully in your direction. “Yeah, I’ve picked it up here n’there. Started writin’ some lyrics as well. Maybe..one day I can play for ya? Give ya your own lil’ private concert, front row.”

“Yeah, you dork. That’s why I'm asking!” You giggled. “Wow, a private concert, just for me? Well, I'd be honored.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, “don’t go gettin’ your hopes up jus’ yet, but I think I can manage.” He shot you a subtle, yet playful wink. “Now, whad’ya got there? Frank Sinatra, You Make Me Feel So Young?”

“An oldie, for the oldies.”

“I ain’t that old, darlin.’” He scoffed playfully.

“Mhm. Let’s face it, we’re a little old, but silver looks good on you.”

“Not nearly as good as it looks on you.” He countered smoothly.

“Charming.”

“Jus’ tellin’ the truth, darlin.’”

“And they say chivalry is dead.” You were looking directly into his eyes which naturally sent a blush rising to his cheeks. Yeah, he had it pretty bad.

“Y’wanna give it a listen?” He offered with a sheepish grin.

“Absolutely.”

He reached for the vinyl, fingers gently brushing yours as he gently removed it from your grasp before he stood up. He shuffled over to the nearby record player that had been neglected for years. He blew off a bit of dust buildup that had naturally settled along the surface before he placed the vinyl down carefully.

The needle slowly fell into place as the old turntable crackled to life, flooding the small expanse of the room in sweet music.

You make me feel so young

You make me feel so Spring has sprung

And every time I see you grin

I'm such a happy individual

Joel watched the way your eyes suddenly lit up, bright, glassy, beautiful. Your energy was infectious as his knuckles lightly thrummed along the hardwood. He wanted to ask you to dance, to make up for what happened at the Tipsy Bison. Why was he so apprehensive? What did he have to fear?

Connection. Intimacy. Devotion.

You seemed to recognize the inner turmoil he was presently facing almost immediately. The nervous thrumming of his knuckles, the way his brows furrowed inward as if he was deep in thought. The light unmistakable pursing of his lips.

“Hey, Joel?”

He blinked once before his eyes hesitantly met yours, “Yeah, darlin?’”

“You wanna dance with me?..It can be like a redo for our first date?” Your thoughtful suggestion was as comforting as a warm summer breeze as his fingers absentmindedly inched closer towards yours.

“Y’wanna make up for that night?..Beanie, we don’t gotta–I mean..only if you want to?” He was nearly stumbling over his words by the time you had gently grabbed his hand and interlaced your fingers through his.

“C’mon,” You replied with a small smile tugging on the corner of your lips. “Dance with me, Joel.”

His hesitation was evident, at first, but your gentle smile, and kind eyes eased his nerves as you both slowly stood to your feet. You could feel how clammy his palm felt around your own as his other hand slowly dropped to his side. He wanted to hold your waist, but after everything that happened, he was apprehensive.

“It’s okay, Joel.” You reassured him as your free hand dipped down to his side and delicately wrapped your hand around his wrist before coaxing his hand to rest around your waist.

“I’m a shit dancer, honey.” He murmured low and soft as his fingers slightly flexed against your waist.

“Joel, don’t overthink it. Just dance.” You encouraged him with a reassuring smile.

When his nerves slowly began to dissipate, he fell into a rhythm as he spun you around playfully. He was less worried about accidentally stepping on your toes, and more focused on the way the soft glow of the kitchen lighting bounced off your skin. How pretty you looked. How your eyes never seemed to leave his. The increased thrum of his heart drowned out the soothing crackle from the tabletop. All he could see was you.

It was as if a magnet was slowly pulling you in closer. The gravitational pull, foreheads touching, noses brushing, exchange of breaths. So close. So close. You could nearly taste him on your tongue–

“Beanie..” He breathed out. Pausing. Thinking. Just ask her. The worst she can say is no.

“Can I–”

“Please. Please kiss me, Joel.” Your thoughts were swirling, tumbling like a shaken up jar of marbles. You wanted him so bad. Terribly. You wanted and yearned to know what it possibly felt like to be kissed by Joel Miller. The moment was there in your grasps, and gone in a flash from the distinct creaking sound of the front door opening.

Ellie’s footsteps were soft along the floorboard as she pulled the door shut behind her. She was hoping that Joel wasn’t home. She wasn’t ready to confront him after what took place at the Tipsy Bison just a few nights prior. She was still hurting. Her curiosity got the best of her in the end when she saw that the kitchen light was on.

“Joel?..” She rounded the corner, eyes going wide, cheeks turning a deep bright red as she caught the moment you and Joel nearly kissed. She squeaked a fast apology, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” before darting out of the room like a bat out of hell.

You and Joel were startled by her presence to say the least. His eyes went wide before he was dropping his hand from your waist. He murmured an apology of his own before he slipped out of the kitchen to follow his kid.

“Ellie, wait! Kiddo, can we please–” He was hot on her heels as she scurried up the stairs and b-lined to her bedroom. If he was there a second sooner, he would have stopped her from slamming the door in his face.

“Kiddo, please. I jus’ wanna talk.” He sounded gravely defeated as his forehead came to rest upon the chipping paint on her bedroom door. He could hear her muttering to herself as she stuffed her backpack with overnight clothes.

Moments later the door flung open as she brushed past him with her bag slung over her shoulder.

“Ellie.” He tried one more time.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Joel. Sorry for interrupting your date.” She muttered before jogging down the staircase.

“Kiddo, please. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to Dina’s.” Was her short response. He could detect the hurt in her voice as he pathetically watched her disappear through the front door once more. The entire house was silent as he scrubbed a weathered hand across his patchy beard. Healing took time, he reminded himself. It didn’t happen overnight, but fuck. He missed his baby girl so much.

The old floorboards of the staircase groaned under his heavy footsteps as he trudged back down the stairs. His brain was telling him that it was time to call it a night. Send you home so you didn’t have to witness his pain at the forefront. His heart told him differently. His heart urged him to seek out your comfort, so he did.

He found you right in the kitchen where he left you. You had just taken the freshly made pizza dough out of the fridge and set it out on the counter. Your eyes slowly flitted upwards at the sound of his footsteps.

“Hey, I think the dough is ready to be rolled out. Want to give me a hand?”

Bless you.

“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry for runnin’ off like that. She’s been avoidin’ me since that night at the Tipsy Bison.” He admitted in a hushed tone.

“It’s okay, Joel. You don’t have to apologize for that. Did you..want to talk about it?”

“No, not right now. Let's just..make these pizzas. I’m starving.” He sighed, feeling his own mental and emotional exhaustion begin to way down on him like a bag of cement.

He met you on the other side of the counter, shoulders brushing as he pulled out a rolling pin from one of the drawers. You rolled out half the dough in silence together. It was almost as if you were sharing the weight of his present grief, soaking it in and absorbing it like a sponge.

Once the pizzas were dressed and popped in the oven, he wiped down the counter before grabbing a glass from one of the overhead cabinets. “I uh–really could use a drink. Would you like one? I’ve got wine and some spirits.”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, Joel.”

“Whiskey it is then.” He murmured as he grabbed another glass. “I really don’t usually drink. I jus–’ need somethin’ right now.” He didn’t know why he felt like he needed to explain himself to you, but it was too late to take his words back when they were already spoken.

“Joel, you don’t have to give me a reason as to why you need a drink right now. We all have our vices, and I hold no judgment towards yours.”

“I know I don’t have to explain myself to you, Beanie. I’m jus–’ I'm not okay right now. I don’t know whether I should laugh, cry, punch a fucking wall in.” He muttered bitterly as closed the cabinet door a bit too harshly. He shuffled past you to the wet bar area where he snatched up the bottle of whiskey with trembling fingers. He popped the cap off with his teeth as he poured a hefty splash of amber-colored liquor into his glass. He was considerate enough to give you half of what he was having.

“Joel, I know you’re not okay right now. Do you want me to?..”

“No.” He croaked softly, “No. I don’t want you to leave, please.” He took a sizable sip from his glass before he returned to your side, sliding your glass over.

“Okay, I won’t go, but is there anything you..need from me?” Your hand slowly grasped the crystal glass before raising it to your lips. The warmth of the liquor coated your insides like sticky molasses. It had a twinge of smoke, finished off with a hint of cinnamon. In short, it was fucking delicious.

“I don’t know.” He admitted somberly before he slowly sank down to the kitchen floor with his back resting against the oak cabinets, and the glass resting in his hand between his knees as his head fell back with a soft thud.

You descended alongside him with your legs outstretched, and ankles crossed. Sometimes all a person needed was a gentle soul. A wordless extended notion of comfort. Sometimes that was enough, but sometimes a person needed more. Whatever Joel needed in those crucial moments, you’d be there.

“Can I be honest with you?” He broke through the growing silence with a heavy huff through his lips.

“Of course.”

“I am fucking terrified of losing every goddamn person that I love, Beanie. I’m terrified of losing my brother. I’m terrified of losing my daughter, and I'm terrified..of losing you. I feel like a broken record that can’t quite find its rhythm because the vinyl is scratched, and the needle keeps catching. Do..you get what i’m sayin?’” His head slowly turned to meet your eyes.

Your heart skipped a monumental beat when he said that he was terrified of losing every person that he loved, and that you had made the cut. (not that there was one to make). You ignored the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and focused on him, and his willingness to rawly communicate with you.

“Joel, I understand why you are terrified, but you haven’t lost Tommy, Ellie, or me. We’re all right here. I don’t think you sound like a broken record at all. Try and show yourself a bit of compassion, okay?”

He stifled a bitter chuckle as he brought the rim of the glass back to his lips. He took another sip before he closed his eyes.

“Beanie, I don’t think you’d be tellin’ me to have some compassion for myself if you knew what I've done, the people I've killed, the choices I've made. I ain’t a good person. No matter how many times I have tried to justify my actions, I ain’t a saint.”

“Joel, do you think that anyone is truly a saint? Do you believe that we’re all innately good? That we’ve never hurt a friend, or said words we didn’t mean? Joel, even if the outbreak never happened, and we didn’t lose the people we loved, we still would be making mistakes. We still would be hurting people whether it was intentional or not. I mean this with full honesty, your past isn’t going to scar me. It isn’t going to make me think of you in a darker light, because goddamnit, we all had to fucking make some hard choices in the name of survival. I’ve killed people too, you know that, right? I lost count years ago. I lost my fucking faith in the shreds left in the remants of humanity until–” you felt yourself choking up with tears welling along your waterline, and your words lodged in your throat, clawing to be set free.

“Beanie–”

“No, please. Please just let me finish, okay? Joel, you’re so incredibly hard on yourself, and hell, we all are. I just want you to realize that you are not a bad person. You’re not a bad man. You’re not some evil monster lurking in the shadows. You’re a fucking human being that has spent over 20 years trying to survive. You have endured and survived up until this point. You and Ellie will be okay. She’s hurting, and so are you, but one day she will forgive you, for whatever it is that you have done. She needs time to heal, and so do you.” You felt mildly exasperated from the energy you were exerting.

Joel was speechless. He was floored as his pupils were blown out wide. His jaw physically dropped. He scrambled to gather his thoughts so that he could come up with a well-rounded response. He struggled with his words, as you knew. All he knew is that he had to be just as vulnerable as you were being.

“I killed an entire hospital of fireflies. I killed every single one of them to save her. To save my Ellie. My light. They were going to kill her, Beanie. Ellie is immune. She’s the only one. Marlene told me that the doctor that was going to perform the surgery on her thinks that the Cordyceps has grown with her since birth. Because it’s adapted to her, it tricks the normal Cordyceps into thinking that Ellie is one of them. That’s the reason why she is immune. Tess and I were taking Ellie to the fireflies because I made a promise to Marlene. It turned into something else along the way. I grew to care for Ellie as if she was my own. I even–I even told her that we didn’t have to keep going. We could come back to Tommy’s and forget all about the fireflies. My baby girl didn’t want that. She wanted to save the fuckin’ world, but she didn’t want to die. I know she didn’t want to die, Beanie. She thought that after it was all said and done, that we would be going home together.

“And when we’re done, we’ll go wherever you want, Joel.” Ellie reassured him.

“Tommy’s, sheep ranch, the moon.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere you go.”

“But there’s no halfway with this.”

“We finish what we started.”

Ellie was determined to use her immunity to save the world, and Joel couldn’t stop her.

“Ellie..is immune?” You whispered softly as the weight of Joel’s words sunk deep into your soul.

“Yes, she is. You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone, Beanie. Not even Maria knows. Only Tommy and I. The rest of the community would turn to chaos if they knew.”

“The fireflies were looking for a cure, and Ellie was the answer? But, Cordyceps–”

“Grow inside the brain.” He deadpanned as he finished off what was left in the contents of his glass. “I did what I had to do to save her, and if I had to go back and do it all over again, I would. She didn’t want to die. She never consented to the surgery. Marlene never gave her the option, and neither did I. The worst bit? Beanie, I lied to her. I told her that there were more people like her. People who were immune. I told her there were dozens like her, and that the doctors couldn’t actually make any of it work. That they’ve stopped looking for a cure entirely.”

“They’ve stopped lookin’ for a cure.”

“Where are my clothes?” Ellie mumbled.

“Raiders attacked the hospital. I barely got ya outta there, kiddo.” he squeezed the steering wheel tightly as he lied through his teeth.

“Were people hurt?..”

“Yes.” He didn’t lie.

“Is Marlene okay?”

Joel paused as he glanced back at his daughter through the rearview mirror.

“I’m takin’ us home.”

“You never told her the truth, did you?” You knew the answer, but you wanted him to confirm it.

“No, I did tell her, and she hates me for lying and taking that choice away from her. She feels like..she holds no purpose in life now, and it’s all my fault.”

“Joel, you did what every parent would have done for their child. Biological or not, she is your daughter. She was in danger, and you saved her. I can’t blame her for the way she currently feels towards you. Her emotions are valid, and you should have never lied to her. You should have told her the truth from the start, but I understand why you didn’t tell her. You felt ashamed of your actions.”

“I just wanted to protect her.” He murmured as his eyes casted downwards.

You reached your hand out and gently grasped his shoulder and gave it a firm, grounding squeeze.

“Joel, you did just that. You protected her. You saved her. You saved the world.”

His own eyes began to water. His lower lip trembled, wobbled with uncertainty as his glassy irises met yours.

“You’re right. I did save the world.”

And then, you were hugging.

His tears and your own fell freely as you cradled his head protectively against your chest with your chin resting gently against the top of his head. Your fingers threaded through his soft salt and pepper tendrils as he enveloped your frame in his strong arms. The oven dinged signaling that the pizza was ready, but neither of you moved an inch.

“Spend the night with me, Beanie. Please.” His words fell heavy on his tongue. His heart begging you with a steady thrum to stay.

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