#cat eats granola

[vamptastic]

home intruder or my two giant idiot dogs trying to eat trash and/or viciously playfight. the eternal question

[vanillabat99]

The Horrors have returned and I am Plagued By Visions yet again.

[aidankalenko]

hanging out at the bathroom at work bc i have nothing left to do lol XD

[motleyfam]

Dick forgets to eat sometimes.

Jason can’t fathom it—the entire concept is foreign to him. For as long as he can remember, food’s always been on his mind. If he wasn’t digging through dumpsters for it, he was squirreling away whole pieces of fruit and unopened granola bars the kids at school carelessly left on their trays, picking up gigs babysitting the neighbor brats for the complimentary PB&Js, sitting through two-hour fire & brimstone church sermons daydreaming about the fried chicken and potato salad that would come after. Jason’s gone hungry more times than he can count but never once has he simply forgotten to eat.

Bruce says it’s something with the way Dick’s brain is wired. It’s why he can’t sit still very long without his leg jittering, why he talks a mile a minute when he gets going on a topic, why his apartment always looks like a tornado went through it.

All Jason knows is that it’s five p.m. and he’s starving.

Except he isn’t—not really. He had a bowl of Cap’n Crunch in Dick’s kitchen just that morning, milk and all. Jason’s gone far longer on far less, so he doesn’t know why his stomach's complaining so much today, why his head feels achy and light, why that tiny biting pain in his middle won’t shut up. He’s been living at the Manor for four months now and he’s already gone soft.

They’re walking through Bludhaven Shopping Centre, Dick babbling on about the last obstacle of the indoor minigolf course they just finished. Jason tries to listen, but his heart is beating strangely fast and the only thought pulsing through his mind is food, food, food—

And then abruptly, he notices that Dick’s stopped walking. He’s looking at Jason, brow furrowed and lips moving as if asking a question, but Jason isn’t hearing anything because his hands are shaking and his breaths are coming out quick and gaspy and even though he’d been looking forward to hanging out with Dick for weeks now he suddenly wants nothing more than to be back in the Manor where the pantry’s always stocked and the fridge is full and he can breathe.

And then he blinks and he’s sitting at a sticky food court table, and Dick’s got a hand on his back, saying “in and out, nice and slow, that’s it” and Jason’s got tears welling up in his eyes which pisses him off because that’s stupid, he’s being stupid, only cats and babies cry because they missed lunch, and—

And then there’s a soft pretzel in a paper wrapper being nudged into his hand by a guilty-faced Dick with a murmur of “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking” and it makes Jason want to crawl into a hole and die because he can’t just be fucking normal about this.

But there’s honey mustard sauce to dip it in, and a Chipotle bowl soon after, and tomorrow he and Dick both eat all three meals.

[scoutswritingcorner]

Careful, Baby On Board

Cursed Cat Alastor

TW: The Vee’s, biting, Cursed Cat Alastor being a menace

A/N: I had an idea of Cursed Cat Alastor being in a babybjorn carrier

The day had started out fine, you had to do a few errands around the hotel for Charlie and Vaggie. You were currently finishing eating your snack, Catastor (You originally named it Cat Alastor but that was too long) in your other arm as you ate. It was purring loudly, slowly blinking as if it was about to fall asleep in your arm. It’s paws carefully making air biscuits as it looked around the room ignoring you as you ate your snack.

Sadly every moment of peace is broken in the ever busy Hazbin Hotel as Charlie walks into the kitchen looking guilty as she wrung her fingers together smiling at you. You looked up at her, “Yes Charlie?” You asked as you took another bite of the very very off brand granola bar you had found whilst digging around in the pantry of the kitchen without Alastor finding out but Catastor did find out easily. “So…I have another errand for you cause Sir Pentious accidentally broke one of the bar taps and the part we need is more in town and you’re the only other one who can go..Alastor won’t go near the Vee’s tower..” She explained before smiling at you, opening her mouth about to say something else but stopped when you shrugged, “Okay.”

“..okay? That’s all?” She asked, disbelieving that you would answer so quickly, “Yeah..I’ll head out in a second.” You hummed, throwing your trash away as Catastor made a little growling noise in response. “Hush grumpy boy, we are going on an adventure.” You whispered out to him giving him a gentle kiss to his head which made him start purring more. Silly cat behaves much like your darling deer man.

~~~

After looking at what broke and taking a picture of it to make sure you could find the right things you had headed into town. The only store that was close was sadly in the Vee’s distract of Pentagram City which was dangerous for most of the hotel- Angel because Valentino and Alastor won’t go anywhere near modern technology and barely anyone in the hotel goes this far into pentagram city. So it was up to you, which you didn’t really care much for as you usually tuned everything out and stayed in huge crowds to avoid Vox finding you. The fucking creep trying to either flirt with you and get you to leave Alastor or he just watches you.

Straightening out your jacket to keep Catastor from growling at the amount of modern technology around and calm in the babybjorn carrier you had bought and specifically custom made for him so you could carry him around with you easier. While he was practically light as a feather, your arm would get all tingly after a while, he also tended to pick a fight with anyone who dared venture too close for his comfort. Sadly lady luck was not on your side on this fine hellish evening, first when you got into the store they were completely out of the part you needed and it wouldn’t be shipped in until a week later, so you had to call Charlie and get her decision on what to do, then Catastor didn’t like how the store manager was looking at you and decided to have an early lunch which resulted in you getting kicked out after you had negotiated a reasonable way for them to deliver the item to the Hotel and finally when you thought your day couldn’t get worse. Vox had to show his face to you as you finally got Catastor calmed down enough to get back into the carrier.

You fixed your jacket and gave Catastor a little kiss on his head before turning around to immediately run into Vox’s chest. “What the fuck.” You hissed out angrily glaring up at the tall tv headed demon, who only smirked at you. “What the fuck indeed, I didn’t expect you to be out and about this part of pentagram city!” He said loudly causing you to flinch, you already felt a migraine building behind your eyes. The low static that emitted from Catastor started to become louder and louder by the passing seconds as Vox went on and on about something you couldn’t care about.

“What…what the fuck is that noise?” He hissed out his screen glitching in anger, “My baby.” you replied quickly making the overlord stop in his tracks, “You have a kid?” He asked, watching you nod and open your jacket to show the bright red and black fluff ball that was currently hissing and jerking its head in anger. Bright red dialed eyes glaring Vox down, as it easily escaped the carrier it was in, saliva and foam escaping its fangs. “This is my baby boy and bodyguard while my darling Husband is off doing his own thing.” You replied looking at your nails, nonchalantly. 

Vox opened his mouth to say something but as his hand reached over to touch you that’s when Catastor pounced, claws digging into the Overlord’s chest and screen as he bit down anywhere he could. It was over in a flash as Vox had disappeared using his electricity and Catastor was standing where Vox laid before snarling and growling out wires in his mouth. You smiled picking him up, praising him as you took the red and blue wires out of his mouth. “Don’t need my bodyguard to get a stomach ache later.” You hummed walking back to the hotel.

Alastor is going to have a field day when he hears what happened with Vox. Maybe rub it in the overlord’s face at the next meeting.

[positivelyapunovexponent-good]

on a more serious note I don’t think people realise how socially alienating being unable to eat gluten is. Imagine spending almost every single house party standing in a corner while everyone else gets to enjoy pizza and cake. If your host is thoughtful maybe they'll makes sure there's a vegetable platter for you. But there have been times that stale corn chip crumbs out of the bottom of the bag were the only food provided that I could eat.

Pesach is such a relief in comparison. I don’t even really have to worry about gluten contamination! Barring the singular exception of matzah (something that is clearly marked and has an easily accessible gluten free alternative that most people report tastes the exact same as the regular thing), I get to eat exactly the same things as everyone else at the same time with complete peace of mind. For every course. It's so lovely

So.. yeah. If you're keeping kosher for Passover this week, as you try to navigate restaurants and social gatherings while avoiding wheat, keep your gluten free friends in mind. They have to live like this year round.

ahhh pesach is soon I’m so so so excited!! A highly ritualistic scripted meal where wheat and wheat byproducts are so strictly banned you’re not even allowed to have them in the house??? Holiday made in a lab for my autistic gluten intolerant ass.

[dontopenfairies]

She pulls up to the curb alongside a huge green lawn. There’s supposed to be a free concert in the park today. She turns off the car and looks at her boyfriend.

“Let me take kitty for a second while you eat your snack,” she says, taking his black stuffed cat from him and setting it on the dashboard. She rummages around in the bag and finds a granola bar for him. “Here you go, sweetheart. Eat that and then we’ll try to find the festival.”

After they get out of the car, she passes him the big bag. “You’re carrying that,” she says. “Stick kitty in the big pocket. And then there’s sunscreen on the inside zipper pocket. Make sure you get your nose.”

It’s a long walk through the park to get there. “Are you excited?” she asks. “I’m really excited.” She stops him to take pictures of him next to the prettiest flowers and trees.

There’s a huge crowd of people around the bandstand. They can hear the murmur of people from the top of the little path down the hillside to get there. “Wow,” she says. “I think I forgot what crowds sound like. Maybe a Covid thing.” He reaches out and she grabs his hand as they get closer.

Everyone cheers when the band comes out. They start to play and the crowd applauds. Little groups of people around the perimeter are dancing.

He gets a little closer to her. “Are you okay, honey?”

“Um…I don’t know,” he whispers.

“Is the crowd stressing you out? You seem a little bit anxious.”

He nods. “I wet myself a little bit,” he whispers in her ear.

“Aww, sweetheart, and you don’t have a diaper today.” She surveys the damage as subtly as she can. Good thing he’s wearing black pants today.

“I think I need a toilet,” he says.

“Okay, let’s go find somewhere.” She’s wearing a flannel over her tank top, so she pulls it off and wraps it around his waist, tying it at the front. “That’ll cover you a little bit if you leak more, okay, honey?”

Now to find a toilet.

“Oh, that guy can tell us!” she says, looking at a man with a hi-vis staff vest on. “Excuse me? Hi, um, we’re looking for a bathroom.”

“Porta-potties that-a-way,” says the man, pointing.

She thanks him as they hurry over. The porta-potties are between two big, flowering bushes, but it isn’t enough to mask their smell.

The larger, accessible toilet is in use so they have to cramp into one of the small ones. The plastic walls are trapping heat inside.

“Yuck, it’s gross in here,” she says. She reaches out and opens the bag, still on his arm, and pulls out kitty and hands it to him.

“Wait, you aren’t changing me, are you?”

“What do you mean? You need a change, she says, pulling a thin adult diaper out of the bag.

“I’m not going in the toilet?”

“In there? Did you see how yucky it was? This’ll be so much better. Besides, I can tell you want it today.”

“Why? Just because I was holding my stuffie in the car?”

She unzips his pants and pulls them down along with his underwear. Even though they’ve been together for two years, he still gets shy when he’s exposed to her.

“No,” she says, getting the lotion and baby powder from the bag. “Well, not just that. Just from how shy and nervous you’ve seemed all day. Not to mention clingy.”

“Nuh-uh!” he retorts as she pulls the diaper around his front and tapes the sides. “I wasn’t THAT clingy…”

“You wanted to sit on the same side as me in the booth in the diner,” she says. “And you were hanging on to me the whole time. I almost expected I’d have to spoon-feed you your lunch.”

“Noo! You’d never have to spoon-feed me! I can do that myself!”

“Can you hold your pee by yourself, too?” she asks, watching his diaper swelling. He bends over, as far as the cramped portapottie allows him to, and presses on his bladder to get out the last bit.

“So cute,” she says, almost to herself, as she pulls his underwear and pants back up over the diaper. It’s a little harder to zip his pants up now that the diaper is swollen.

“You’re gonna stretch out my underwear,” he whines.

“I’m not getting a pants change?” he asks as she opens the portapottie door.

“Do you think there’s room in there to get your pants all the way off and your extra pair on?” she asks, holding the door open for him.

“No…”

They walk to the little sink next to the portapotties and she washes her hands.

“You should wash, too,” she says, taking kitty from him and stowing it in the bag.

“Okay,” he says. He hates the smell of the portapottie soap. Luckily, when he’s done, she sprays his hands with the lavender-scented hand sanitizer she keeps in the bag. So much better.

“Do you want to try again,” she asks, gesturing to the crowd. “Or do you want to go home?”

“I’ll try again!”

It just takes a couple more songs before he gets squirmy again. It’s getting hotter, and someone is smoking weed nearby, and more people are joining the crowd behind them, pressing in.

“I’m really trying, but I think I just need to go home,” he says. “Or somewhere quiet.”

“Okay, let’s go down to the grove,” she says, leading him by the hand through the crowd and across the lawn and down to the little area between the hills. There’s a ring of trees with a bench in the middle and they sit down.

He takes out his water bottle and takes a sip.

“Are you feeling better here?” she asks, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and pulling him closer.

“I’m sorry I wanted to leave. I know you wanted to see the concert.”

“I wanted to hang out with you,” she says. “I just thought maybe the free concert would be fun. It’s not a big deal.”

“Okay,” he says, leaning his head on her shoulder.

“Remember what I told you before? Sometimes things seem like a really big deal in the moment, but as soon as it’s over, you can see that it’s all okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He closes his eyes. He can hear the sound of the band, warped and far away. And the sound of cars on the road just outside of the park. He can feel the strap of her tank top and her warm skin on his cheek, her shoulder rising and falling with her breath.

“Now you’re happy, sitting here with me holding you. But don’t think I’ll forget how bratty you were in the portapottie when we get home. You’re definitely getting a punishment for talking back to me and whining about wearing a diaper you clearly need.” She rubs his shoulder. “Oh, don’t blush. I could tell you wanted a diaper on, I can tell when you want a little punishment, too.”

[rottenpumpkin13]

Do you think Sephiroth ever does things that his friends find cute? Little moments where he’s being unintentionally endearing and it just throws people off

Cute Things Sephiroth Does

• Sometimes when he's eating something he enjoys, his cheeks puff up and get squishy (like a hamster), and if he's having pasta he might end up with sauce on his face.

• Before bed he either braids his hair or throws it into a messy ponytail if he's too tired to bother with it.

• When he lies down he instinctively cuddles whatever’s nearby—pillows, blankets, random objects, Genesis and/or Angeal, you name it. + Because he's usually too tall for most spaces, he subconsciously shrinks his legs even when he actually has room.

• Loud noises easily bother him even though he's used to suppressing it. His friends find it cute when he pulls away, shuts his eyes or covers his ears in response.

• He gets a petulant expression whenever someone interrupts him while he's eating. Kind of like this -> (￣◇￣;) but his mouth is full of food.

• He acts awkward in front of cameras, especially when he's being filmed. Angeal finds this especially adorable since he's the resident photographer. Sephiroth either rubs the back of his neck, looks away, or covers his face.

• When he gets cold, he pulls his blanket all the way up, covering his nose.

• If he enjoys a new food, he'll look it up online to order more of it before he even finishes eating. One time he did this with an apple granola bar Genesis offered him, not knowing that his parents' company were the suppliers. Genesis also found Sephiroth's excited expression when he presented him with a box full of them very cute.

• He tries to pet stray cats in the slums and gets quietly upset when they don’t return his affection, though he never admits it. He just gets very quiet, sighs, and then keeps walking. When they were on a mission one time, Zack was tempted to chase the cat down and force it to love him.

• He looks unexpectedly cute doing yoga because he's fully relaxed and focused.

• While Angeal never uses sticker sheets (saves them for special occasions) and Genesis uses his selectively, Sephiroth uses all of his at once, sticking them on random places since he never had the notion of saving them for something special. Genesis and Angeal found matching moogle stickers on their coffee cups one time. Sephiroth's giddy expression as he waited for them to say something was, unnervingly, very adorable.

[thisismeracing]

Can you please do Mick dating Raikkönen!reader hsc, please?

sure <3 hope u like it, nonny!

Requests are now CLOSED.

MICK DATING A RAIKKÖNEN!READER | MS47

Warnings: mentions of food; tooth-rotting fluff; mentions of family members; not proofread.

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Raikkönen!reader just like her father is not in for silly jokes or small talk. She’s direct. If she doesn’t like you she’ll tell it to your face. The opposite is true as well - that’s how she told Mick she liked him after they hung out for a few months;

“I like you.” Short, simple, and direct. So direct that Mick wasn't sure if she meant she liked LIKED him or if she was being friendly, but since the latter was unlikely, he gathered up his courage and asked her on a date;

Though Michael and Mikki raced together, and Mick pretty much grew up inside the racing scene, the same was not reality for Yn. She did like racing, but when she was a kid Mikki and her mother chose to prioritize her privacy and her studies, that's how she wasn't friends with Mick. But once they met, it was a perfect match. Mick was shy at first, so that made him silent, and Yn just wasn't interested in talking. The silence was comfortable, though, and she saw herself walking near the bench he was sitting on and sharing a piece of her granola bar with him. Her dad had seen the friendship unfold, and he nicknamed them 'birds' because they would feed each other silently and then leave only to come up the next weekend with a sandwich, a granola bar, a candy, share in silence, and then leave again;

When Mick finally asked Yn on a date she told her dad and though he used to make fun he ended up feeling jealous - he even suggested that he could go too as if it was a friend meeting, not a date. Yn laughed at the situation, something she didn't do all the time, which made it even more special to those around her;

She sent Mikki a picture after the date. Their faces squished together on the screen of the phone. He could see Mick's arms around her shoulders, but her smile was so bright he couldn't help but feel happy for them;

He has dinner with the Schumachers the next month, minus Mick, of course. And they talk about the likelihood of their relationship becoming serious. They end up choosing to support them, Mikki being pretty sure that Yn wouldn't back down if he told her to, and the same with Mick;

Now, Mikki is a bit unsure of everything at first. He did see Mick grow up. He was friends with his family. But still, it was Yn! His little girl. That doubt went away a few months after they announced the seriousness of their relationship. Older Mick was a fun guy, nothing like the babbling kid nor the grumpy teenager he used to be. So the Schumacher and the older Raikkönen ended up realizing they had a lot in common;

After that, it's always "Where's Mick, Yn? Is Mick coming to the family vacation? Are the Schumis spending Christmas with us? Did you give him the book I handed you?" it's funny even;

Mick calls Yn by Raikki a short for her surname. Sometimes he calls her Rai or even Kiki, she hates the latter, though;

I feel like they would be super private. So much that it took almost a year or so for people to pierce the pieces together;

But being private didn't mean they weren't in love. That they were and the garage they attended quickly picked up from the way Mick would smile at her or how she would laugh around him;

Just black cat and golden retriever vibes, but Mick showed Yn her golden side too (the opposite too because Mick started to stand up for himself a tad more);

You know those couples where at least one has to be the person to tell the waiter they got the order wrong? Now imagine Yn is the one who does it while Mick is there like "I wouldn't mind eating raw meet :(" and Yn is like "I want another dish and I want dessert on the house," super serious while Mick is giving an apologetic look to the employee;

Yeah. hihi

[reiluvr]

Suguru's Morning Routine

hello! this is a new account, just cause i wanted to start somewhere new! requests are open and im still working on everything so...

i'll eventually make a masterlist, once i've posted at least 5 works or so.

this is pretty much 100% fluff even though i'm a hardcore angst girl. just starting off easy. uhhh there's suggestive words but no smut.

just suguru being head over heels for you and toru <3

It's the way Suguru has his alarms set for at least half an hour before the other two ring. He's so used to this routine that he doesn't even really need the alarm, his eyes already open and hands reaching for his phone to turn the alarm off in case it wakes you two up. He turns his body, a smile subconsciously falling onto his face as he observes the mess of your hair. He gently brushes a few strands away from your mouth, fingers tracing your features as he grins.

Once his ten minutes of admiring you are up, his body shifts, neck craning to admire Satoru on your other end. His heart flutters as he watches the constant rise and fall of Satoru's chest, finding solace in watching the "honored one" look so mundane. His smile only widens further as his eyes trail down to observe how your legs entangle with Satoru's, Suguru being the only somewhat normal sleeper. In the quiet of the room, a small giggle escapes him as he thinks back to the beginning of the relationship, how hard it had been to get a good amount of sleep between Satoru's limbs stretching across the entire bed and you're constant mumbling. Now it's only one of his countless favorite things about his two partners.

He alternates between both of you, waiting until the sun has fully risen to quietly get out of bed, humming a soft tune as he turns on the coffee maker, already pulling out countless items from the refrigerator. It was honestly a blessing that Satoru was loaded, because not only did he eat for a family of ten, all three people in the house had very different tastes, leading to grocery weekends being quite hectic. He places three cups on the counter, practically adding only a few drops off coffee to the first one as he drowns it in creamer and sugar cubes. He moves to the second, not even trying to fight the smile as he notices the small paw prints on the side of the mug. He had gotten accustomed to finding cat themed items all around the house once you had moved in. It had been a nightmare listening to Satoru whine constantly about how "those stupid cats mean more than we do, right?" He adds two sugar cubes to the cat themed cup, pouring the coffee and topping it off with whatever nut based milk they had bought that week. By the time he turns to the last cup, Satoru's poptarts have popped out the toaster, so he quickly places them on a plate while he heats up a pan to prepare his own eggs. He quickly pours coffee in his own cup, not bothering with sugar or cream as he takes a few sips, mixing granola into some strawberry yogurt. By the time breakfast is ready, he can already hear Satoru's soft whines from the bedroom, the man already having found something to complain about. He places the poptarts on one end of the desk, placing the granola in the middle, and the eggs on the other end. No one spoke about it, but everyone knew they had an assigned seat.

He takes his coffee with him, leaning against the door frame of their bedroom as he watches. Satoru seems to be clawing at the bedsheets, one hand digging into the bed as the other is wrapped tightly around the bedframe. You stand there, hair a mess and clothes all ruffled, clearly just having gotten up, with one of Satoru's ankle in you hands, desperately trying to pull him out of bed. Suguru rolls his eyes, you'd think after years of living together, they'd be over this dramatic scene every morning. He sighs, placing his cup on the dresser as he shuffles behind you, hands wrapping around your waist as you drop Satoru's leg in surprise.

"For once, could you two just wake up normally?"

He has to suppress his smile as he hears your own frustrated complaints, already talking his ear off first thing in the morning.

"I woke up and he was literally laying on me! So I push him off and he start whining and crying, you know how he is, he's all like "you don't love me" and "I'll just go die, I guess". And then! Suguru, you're not gonna believe this, actually, you will, cause Satoru still acts like he's 16. He pulls me back with him as he's like, "Hey ma". MA? WHY IS HE TRYING TO HAVE SEX FIRST THING IN THE MORNING??-"

Suguru does the only thing that he knows will shut you up, pressing his lips against your own as he silences you, Satoru cackling in the back as you push Suguru away, already on another rant about how you're living with two men who are horny 24/7. Of course, you're just kidding, already back in Suguru's hold a few minutes later, both of you just swaying in place while waiting for Satoru to finish washing his face. (He has a 24 step skin care routine.)

The three of you finally settle into your places, both you and Satoru digging into the prepared breakfast in front of you. Suguru sighs happily, watching as a bit of yogurt sticks to your nose, Satoru pointing it out. He watches as Satoru throws his head back in laughter as you try to wipe it off, only smudging it more. He holds back to urge to tell Satoru not to speak with his mouth full. He watches as you rub your nose red, somehow still missing the smudge. He watches as Satoru finally reaches over, using the edge of his sweater's sleeve, it's Suguru's sweater but he's already accepted he's never getting it back, to gently rub your face, getting rid of the mark. By the time he takes a bite of his own eggs, they're cold. He just smiles and continues eating, a cold breakfast being a small price to pay for enjoying his morning with his favorite people.

[fcthots]

here with some Christmas gus ask 💪💪

when jason sets up the Christmas tree he has to place the decorations of the tree high enough, out of gus's reach, because gus always plays with them and knocks the Christmas decorations if they're within close reach

- 🦇

Merry Christmas nonnie!! Gus is the best present

Tim had a minor injury. Very minor. That was why he collapsed on the fire escape of your apartment. Okay, maybe the blood loss wasn't ideal, but hey. He's not dead yet.

Though he thinks he might die out of spite when he sees the large orange ball of fluff staring at him from the window. Gus's screech of a meow does not help the migraine brewing behind his eyes. Though he supposes he should be thankful when said demon screech alerts you to the bleeding bird on your balcony. He watches the shock and worry on your face as you use one hand to tear open the window and the other to hold the still yelling cat away from his desired escape route.

"Tim, what the fuck??? JASON"

He tries to say "it's fine," but to be completely honest, he's not sure he gets the words out. He sees Jason come barrelling down the hallway, eyes checking over your body for injury until he spots Tim still laying in a pile on his fire escape.

"Hey." He is fairly confident that he managed to get his mouth to move this time. Jason does not respond to his greeting in the same kind manor Tim had opened with. Rude.

Jason manages to pick Tim up and deposit him into a chair. He spends time stitching up the knife wound Tim got from what he swears was "just a lucky hit." Tim takes Jason's mother henning in stride while you make him something to eat, insisting that a granola bar doesn't count as dinner. Gus is not happy about Tim's intrusion into his home, watching his every move. Tim assumes the cat thinks it's being subtle, but all 20 pounds of cat do not hide behind the leg of the kitchen table as well as it may think. Especially when it flops over as Jason passes, heading to grab some spare clothes for Tim who "shouldn't grapple home with a stab wound."

Tim huffs and crosses his arms, only slightly wincing as it tugs at his stitches. It's only then that he notices the tree, the tree that only has the top half decorated. Almost three feet above the ground of this tree has no ornaments. He can find no discernible reason. He knows Jason would have decorated the apartment November first and it is well into December. He's seen the ridiculous number of ornaments that the two of you own. To be honest, he's not sure where you keep all the decorations out of season. The working theory is an extra safe house somewhere, but after working this pet project in his spare time for two years now, he hasn't figured out which one. Regardless, he can think of no reason, nay, negative reasons as to why not all of your tree is decorated. He stares at it so long that he spaces out and loses track of time.

Come to think of it, has your tree always been like this? He's noticed that the bottom of your tree usually has less ornaments, but the no ornaments thing has to be new, right?

"Uh Tim?" He whirls around to face you where you hand him a plate of something that looks like pasta. He briefly looks at you and then back over to the tree. "You good there, bud?"

"I am losing my mind. Why is only half of your tree decorated?"

"Is that why you've been staring at the tree for over a half hour now?"

"It's bothering me. Please. I have to know."

Tim isn't sure why he was expecting it to be some earth shattering secret. He probably should not be disappointed that it wasn't because you were sending an assassin a top secret code using trees. He is only mildly ashamed to report that his mouth hung open with slight judgement and shock as you said, "Gus likes to knock the ornaments off the tree for sport, and while we're usually just glad he's getting exercise, last year he tried to eat the glass of a broken ornament so we're just playing it safe this year."

The cat seems to laugh at Tim's descent into insanity from behind the table's leg. The cat could be an assassin now that he thinks about it.

And now that he thinks about it harder, maybe he lost more blood than he was previously aware of.

[khaire-traveler]

🩺 Subtle Asklepios Worship⚕️

Take your medications, if any; take medications if you need to (headaches, stomaches, etc.)

Try herbal teas as remedies for MINOR health issues (nausea, stomaches, etc.)

Try to visit the doctor when needed and if able

Take care of your physical health

Exercise; get some movement throughout your day, even just stretching

Have a candle that reminds you of him (no altar needed)

Keep a picture of him in your wallet

Wear jewelry that reminds you of him

Have a stuffed animal snake or horse (potentially a rooster; doesn't seem to be a confirmed sacred animal; horse is due to Chiron)

Have symbols of his medical staff (a single snake wrapped around a stick), centaurs, stars (specifically his constellation Ophiochus), or healing (anything you associate with it) around

Take regular breaks from screens

Take a walk/hike outside, especially under the sun when you can get some Vitamin D

Try to eat healthy if you can; eat fruits and veggies, drink milk or calcium-rich drinks, eat fish or protein-rich meats, etc.

Drink herbal teas or natural juices

Try to take care of your hygiene; take regular showers, brush your teeth, wash your hands, use moisturizer, etc.

Eat three meals a day

Try to work on maintaining a regular sleep schedule

Engage in relaxing or calming activities before bed or when you're stressed

Have a morning and night self-care routine

Be gentle with yourself, especially when you're having a difficult time

Practice mindfulness; try meditation if you can

Keep your space clean; make it comfortable and physically safe for yourself

Remind yourself that healing, especially mentally, is rarely a linear path

Look into healthy coping skills for any anxiety, depression, trauma, etc. - anything that can improve your mental/emotional well-being

Prioritize your own well-being

Practice compassion, especially toward yourself

Spend time with loved ones and pets

Try to feed your pet healthy foods; make sure to keep any pets healthy (measure their food intake, give them regular exercise, groom them regularly, etc.)

Support others who are going through a difficult time IF YOU CAN; sometimes we're not well enough to help, and that's ok!!!

Keep a self-care/self-love journal

Take a self-care bath/shower, especially with herbs

Try eating healthy snacks, such as nuts, seeds, berries, or granola

Learn about healthcare, anatomy, or any medical conditions you or loved ones have

Learn your rights when it comes to healthcare as well as your options; educate yourself on HIPPA (if in US)

Support healthcare, humanitarian, or homeless shelter organizations

Cook a meal for someone in need

Cook a meal for a loved one or pet

Donate clothes, food, hygiene kits to homeless shelters; donate warm clothes in the winter

Sit outside, especially in sunlight, for a while; meditate if you're able or do something relaxing, such as playing an instrument or drawing

Feed neighborhood cats, dogs, birds, etc.

Grow your own herbs or produce

-

This is my list of discreet ways to worship Asklepios! I hope it helps someone out. I may add more later on. Take care! 💚

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

[redroomreflections]

The One Where R Burnouts

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

The Loud House Universe

Note: because having 6 kids, 2 dogs, 1 cat, a wife, in-laws, and working full time is crazy!

Natasha has always been observant; it’s in her nature to understand what’s happening around her. She knows everything about the human condition, including yours. As your wife and best friend, she notices the subtle changes before anyone else. It started with the little things. Your posture was slightly more relaxed than usual, shoulders dragging, eyes unfocused even during serious conversations. Then she noticed your eating habits. Back in law school, when you got busy, she’d remind you to eat, sneaking snacks onto your desk when you’d work late into the night. Now, she watches as you barely touch your plate, your attention fixed on the children instead, engaging with them while pushing your food around.

It’s the empty granola bar wrappers and the premade meal containers left on your desk late at night that concern her the most. You hated processed food slightly less than she did, so the sight of it scattered across your workspace is a surprise. A red flag she can’t ignore.

Then came the snapping. It wasn’t like you, not intentionally, at least. But these days, it seemed like everything irritated you. The smallest things—the mess the kids left behind or the sound of Natasha’s voice asking how your day had been—seemed to trigger something. Natasha could tell you had a million things on your mind. She’d catch you glancing at your calendar repeatedly, the tension in your jaw tightening with each passing minute.

And when night came, you barely made it to bed before falling asleep. The instant your head hit the pillow, you were gone, leaving no room for conversation, let alone the warmth of intimacy that had once come so naturally between the two of you.

Natasha had initially tried to brush it off to give you space, thinking you needed time to work through it. But the distance was growing. The laughter, the lighthearted teasing, the small touches, and stolen kisses—all of it seemed to be slipping away, and it scared her.

One evening, after tucking the kids into bed, Natasha found you in your office again, the door closed. She stood outside for a moment, her hand hovering over the handle, debating whether to give you more time or to finally say something. But she couldn’t wait anymore. You weren’t just burning out—you were burning away, and she was terrified of what might happen if she didn’t step in.

Gently, she opened the door. You were hunched over your desk, papers scattered around you, a half-eaten protein bar next to your laptop. Your hair fell into your face, and the tension in your shoulders made her heartache.

“Hey,” Natasha called softly. You didn’t look up, too focused on whatever task was in front of you.

“Babe,” she tried again, stepping closer and touching your shoulder. You flinched slightly at the touch, and that was enough to break something inside her. “You need to stop. Just for a little while.”

“I’m fine, Nat,” you muttered, brushing her off. But even to your own ears, it sounded hollow.

Natasha knelt beside you, taking your hands in hers, gently prying them from the keyboard. You tried to protest, but she held firm.

When she looked up, the tears in your eyes threatened to spill over. You stared back at her, exhaustion clear on your face, and she knew this wasn’t working.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Not for the two of you. After everything, you deserve to be happy and spend time together as a family.

But you were too stubborn, too determined to push through and help people in the way only you could. Natasha had admired that about you and had been amazed by the strength and passion you possessed. Yet you had forgotten about yourself in the process, and Natasha wouldn't stand by and watch you work yourself to death.

“Baby,” She said, licking her lips. It had been so long since she had heard you laugh."You've done so much for so many people. You've sacrificed more than anyone should have to." She paused, running her thumb across your knuckles. “What’s going on?”

For a moment, you hesitated. The words were there, at the tip of your tongue, but the truth felt raw, too vulnerable. So, instead, you shook your head.

"There's nothing, Nat," you replied, trying to pull away. “I’m just super busy these days. I want to get this report done for work. Cara has practice tomorrow, and I don’t want to miss it. Luke has an appointment on Thursday. I need a bit more time, and I’ll be done.”

"Stop." Natasha tightened her grip, refusing to let go.

She watched as you sighed, the sound breaking her heart. Your eyes were downcast, your lip quivering, and she could tell you were holding back.

“Natasha, I said I was fine,” You said lowly.

“Is that why you’re shaking like that? When’s the last time you slept a full night?”

You opened your mouth, the words catching in your throat. “Paige was up last night. She couldn’t sleep, so I sat with her.”

"You can't keep doing this," Natasha whispered, kissing your cheek.

You leaned into her touch, a tear sliding down your cheek.

"I'm okay," you murmured, but your voice trembled, betraying your true feelings.

“You’re not,” Natasha replied, brushing her thumb along your skin. Her other hand reached out to steady you. "Can you tell me why you’re running yourself ragged these days? Is work too much? Are we too much? Do you need a break? Tell me.”

Your shoulders dropped, and you looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

"It's just-" You shook your head. “You know how I get sometimes. My mind gets a little busy, and I have do everything simultaneously. I’ll be fine.”

"No," she said firmly, leaning in closer. "You're not doing this, not now."Her voice softened. "Please, babe, just let me in. Whatever it is, I can help."

She waited, watching as the tension drained from your body. Your eyes were still closed, but a fresh wave of tears was rolling down your cheeks, and her own tears mirrored yours.

"I can't-I can't stop," You finally said, the words coming out in a strangled sob. "Nat, I can't-"

She pulled you close, letting you bury your face in the crook of her neck. You clutched at her desperately, and she held you tight, stroking your back soothingly.

"It's okay, I'm here," Natasha whispered.

The dam finally broke, and you sobbed, your shoulders shaking.

“There’s so much to be done constantly,” You whispered. “I don’t know why, but it’s the truth. Sometimes, I feel like I’m losing myself in all of this. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. I love our kids. I would never regret having a single one of them. Our life together is perfect. It’s just some days I just can’t stop. My mind won’t shut off.”

Natasha held you closer, letting the silence hang heavy around you. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. There was no simple solution. No quick fix that would magically make everything better.

“It’s selfish of me when you’re at home with them,” You leaned against her. “I’m working ten-hour days. I’m ten years into my career, and I’m still working this hard for some need to be the best at everything. The best mom, the best wife. The best friend. I don’t know how to turn it all off.”

Natasha ran her fingers through your hair.

"I just want to be good enough for everyone," you continued. "To make a difference. To matter. To do something."

She kissed the top of your head, her heart aching for you.

"You matter so much, baby," she said. "You matter to me. You're always enough."

She felt you take a shuddering breath, and she knew she had to say something, anything, to get you out of your head.

"We need a change. A vacation," she said. "Away from all this. We'll go somewhere. Just the two of us. Or just you if that’s what you need."

"Nat," You looked up at her, eyes wide and filled with tears.

"I want this to stop," She cupped your face, brushing her thumb over your cheek. "You deserve better. We deserve better. I won't stand by and watch you destroy yourself. How can I help you?”

"Nat, I-," You swallowed thickly, and she waited, watching as you gathered your thoughts.

"I don't know," You admitted, leaning into her touch.

"You're not alone," Natasha whispered. "Never. We'll figure it out. Together."

She pressed her forehead against yours.

"You're so important to me, y/n" she continued. “Seeing you overwork yourself is scary. Please just take a moment. Come to bed with me.”

She pulled away, and you looked at her, a softness in your eyes.

"Will you lay down with me?" She asked. "Just for a little bit?"

You nodded, and she helped you, leading you towards the bedroom. You stopped in the doorway, your gaze falling on the messy sheets.

"I haven't had a chance to clean yet," You mumbled, looking away.

"It's fine, y/n," Natasha said. “We can sleep another night on these sheets. I’ll throw a load in the wash tomorrow.”

She guided you into bed, settling under the covers. She laid back, watching as you curled beside her, resting your head on her chest. You were warm and soft, and the feeling of your body against hers sent a surge of longing through her.

“I truly don’t know,” You began. “Where I can cut back. I just… I like being busy. I do, but it’s so difficult to breathe these days.”

She held you tighter, kissing the top of your head.

"I don't regret our kids," You said suddenly.

"I know, love," She whispered.

"But some days, I think about what it would be like not having them. What our lives would be like."

You paused. "Six kids. Six little lives in my hands. In our hands. What am I supposed to do with that?"

Natasha sighed, rubbing your back.

"I feel selfish for wanting to walk away sometimes," You continued. "For thinking maybe we shouldn't have had them all at once. Maybe it would've been easier."

"You're not selfish, y/n," Natasha murmured. "You're not."

"I love them, and I love being a mom," You said. "I do. I can't imagine life without them. But it's a lot."

Natasha brushed the hair away from your face.

"It is a lot," She agreed.

"Sometimes, I wonder how different things would be. If they weren't ours." You melt back into her arms. "If we had just decided after the miscarriage not to do it. To be happy being aunts to WIllow. Then my heart hurts. It aches so bad because I should be grateful. I should be thankful for all of this. I lost a baby. We lost our child. We got Cara. It was great. I was happy. Then we got the sibling set, and I thought we were crazy for being outnumbered..."

Natasha kissed your temple.

"But then Paige came. Then Luke."

"We wanted it, y/n" she reassured. "All of this. We wanted the kids."

"I know," You whispered. "But I also feel guilty sometimes."

"Guilty?"

"Yes," You admitted. "And I hate myself for thinking that. Because if I could do it all over again, sometimes I think I wouldn't have chosen this for us."

Natasha's eyes burned with tears.

"Why would you ever think that would hurt me?"

"Because you're not like me," You said. "You're strong. You've always been. I'm weak."

"You're not. Stop," Natasha chided. "You are the strongest person I know. I'm serious. Y/n, listen. You're allowed to have feelings. It's okay."

"I just want you to be happy, Nat," You sighed. "I want our kids to have a normal life. I don't want them growing up wondering why their mom is a wreck or that she regrets them. I don't regret them."

"They'll understand one day; if they don't, then it's not the end of the world. We have a lifetime to explain."

"What would we have done? If we didn't have kids?"

"Well," Natasha shrugged. "I'd like to think we would be somewhere fancy. Traveling whenever we want."

"What else?"

"Dinner, maybe," Natasha smiled. "Candlelit. Drinking wine. Slow dancing."

"That sounds nice," You sighed.

"We could do it now," She suggested. "I mean not the travel or the candlelight. But we could put on a record, eat, drink, slow dance."

"I'm a mess."

"We could take a bath."

"Okay," You breathed, closing your eyes.

Natasha leaned down and kissed your forehead.

Natasha smiled gently, her heart swelling with affection for you as she stood up. “Alright, then. Let’s do something nice for you,” she said, her voice soothing as she went to the bathroom. You watched her go, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the sight of her, the way she moved with purpose, knowing exactly what you needed.

In the bathroom, Natasha turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature until the warm water flowed. She added a few drops of lavender essential oil, filling the air with a calming scent that instantly began to soothe the edges of your racing thoughts. As the tub filled, she turned her attention to the flickering candles on the edge of the sink, lighting them one by one until the room was filled with a soft, warm glow.

“Come here,” she called softly, her tone inviting. You pushed yourself off the bed, feeling the weight of the day still lingering in your limbs, but Natasha’s presence made it lighter. She stepped aside as you entered the bathroom, gesturing toward the tub.

“It’s perfect,” you murmured, taking a moment to appreciate the cozy atmosphere. You could feel the tension in your shoulders begin to ease as you stepped closer to the warm water.

“Just what you need,” Natasha said, her voice low and comforting. She reached out, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, her fingers lingering against your skin. “You deserve to unwind.”

With a grateful smile, you began to undress, feeling a mixture of vulnerability and relief as you shed the weight of the day. Natasha helped you step into the tub, the warm water enveloping you like a gentle embrace. You let out a soft sigh as you sank deeper, feeling the heat seep into your muscles, washing away the fatigue.

“See?” Natasha said, leaning against the tub's edge, her arms crossed as she watched you relax. “This is nice, right?”

You nodded, closing your eyes and letting the warmth envelop you. “It is,” you replied, feeling the tension slowly melting. “Thank you for this, Nat.” As she began to leave, you peeked one eye open. "You're not going to leave me alone?"

"I'll stay right here," she assured, moving to the corner of the bathroom and grabbing a fresh towel. She sat on the floor, facing you, leaning against the wall. She crossed her legs, draping the towel over her lap, a smile on her lips. "I'll be right here."

"I was thinking more along the lines of you climbing in," You arched a brow.

"Y/n, you know I love you. I would do anything for you, but I don't want to make it uncomfortable."

"Make what uncomfortable?"

"Well," Natasha gestured around her. "You're supposed to be relaxing."

"Are you worried that seeing me naked is going to give you the urge to jump my bones?"

"You have such a dirty mind, Mrs. Romanoff."

"I have a dirty mouth, too," You winked. "You know, sometimes, you're so sexy when you're not even trying. That's part of the reason why I married you. Not just because you're wonderful, smart, and talented, but you're so gorgeous that it makes my heart ache."

"Y/n," Natasha smiled, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "You're sweet. You're lovely. But I think the hot water is making you a little loopy. Now, just relax."

"But I'm not done with my story."

"Tell me another time," Natasha insisted. "Just close your eyes and listen to my voice."

"No," You shook your head, sitting up straighter. "I'm not going to stop. Not until you get in this tub with me."

Natasha sighed, but there was a fondness in her expression. She knew you were stubborn and that you wouldn't let this go.

"Alright," she said, getting to her feet. "Let me grab another towel."

"There's no need," You replied, reaching out and taking her hand. "Just get in."

"Y/n," Natasha laughed. "This is a little awkward, don't you think?"

"It's not. Just get in. Come on," you tugged on her arm.

With a resigned sigh, Natasha undressed, carefully setting her clothes aside. Your eyes trailed over her, taking in her body's soft curves and subtle lines, admiring her smooth skin. As she slipped into the water, your gaze never left her, a rush of excitement filling you.

"See?" you said, moving closer to her. "Isn't this better?"

"Yes," she breathed, her cheeks flushed, her pupils dilated. She maneuvered herself behind you so you could rest in her arms.

You let out a soft moan as the water lapped against your skin, the warmth enveloping you. As Natasha wrapped her arms around you, her chest pressed against your back, the feeling of her skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine.

"Feels good, right?" Natasha murmured, her voice low and seductive.

"It does," You replied, your eyelids fluttering shut. "I want to be clear about something..." You murmured. "I've never regretted our kids. I've never regretted this life."

"I know."

"I do, but sometimes, I get in my own head. I know you're right there with me, holding me up, but I can't stop thinking. If I don't work hard, how will we have everything we need?"

Natasha kissed the side of your head, her hands resting on your arms.

"We can figure it out. You're not doing this alone, love."

"I know," You sighed. "But some days, it feels like that. Like I'm just treading water, trying to keep my head above the waves."

"I'm here," Natasha whispered, her voice full of tenderness. "Always."

You turned slightly, meeting her gaze.

"I don't want you to worry. About anything." She pressed her forehead against yours.

"I can't help it. I do," You said.

"We're okay, baby. I promise."

You closed your eyes, feeling a wave of emotion wash over you.

"How would you feel," Natasha breathed. "About us possibly getting a nanny?"

"Oh," You raised a brow. "I thought we visited that topic back in New York. It's why your parents moved in with us."

"While true, I think having another set of hands will take the load off," Natasha shrugged.

"What brought this up?"

"Well," She sighed. "You're not the only one that worries. I worry about you, how you feel. And I see how much you care for our kids."

"They're my whole world," You replied.

"I know. I'm not questioning your love for them," She reassured. I've seen enough lately that our work and sacrifices are worth it. We need to take care of ourselves first. I can't keep watching you destroy yourself over the smallest things."

"I'm fine, Nat," You shook your head.

"Please, babe, hear me out," She cupped your cheek. "You're a good mom and an even better wife. But it's okay to ask for help."

"We have the in-laws," You protested.

"Yes, and while they're amazing, they can't care for our kids daily."

"We're outnumbered," You frowned. "We said we would never be. They could overtake us any day now.

"Yes," Natasha chuckled. "I'm glad you're finding humor in this."

"Well, what can we do?"

"Let me look into hiring someone," She said. "We're not saying yes or no yet. I just want you to consider the possibility. If we get a nanny, it means less work for both of us."

"I'm the one having a mental breakdown, and you're home with them every single day," You looked into her eyes.

"It's okay to struggle," Natasha kissed your forehead. "You're human. You're allowed to not be okay. But you're not alone."

"Thank you, love," You whispered.

"Let me take care of you," She brushed her thumb across your cheek.

"Alright," You smiled. "We can look into it."

"We're going to be okay," Natasha said.

"I know," You replied, your heart swelling with affection for her. "Because I have you."

"Always."

The two of you sat silently for a moment, enjoying each other's company. The sound of the water gently lapping against the tub's sides was soothing, and the flickering candles cast a warm glow over the room. As Natasha traced lazy patterns along your skin, you felt the tension leaving your body, replaced with a sense of calm.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

The Middle & What's In Between

Elks Chapter 3 Version 2.0

Chapter Rating: T. (Nothing explicit for the first few chapters.) Chapter Summary: You complete your mural for Joel as your feelings for him grow even stronger, and he might just feel the same way for you. Chapter Warnings: mention of child loss, first kiss, joel being ridiculously soft and touching your cheek a lot, spilled paint water (my enemy), cursive and brand new cd mentions (i'm writing what i know folks), like, zero drama at all, i'm sorry i'm so adverse to writing angst when it comes to jackson joel. Words: 3,700 Header courtesy of @saradika-graphics

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist Playlist

“The Recluse” by Cursive. 

The rain still falls on Friday, puddles grow in size and make everyone’s shoes soaked. Your students are grumpy with the canceled patrol training, and your own patience quickly dissipates due to the anticipation of going back to Joel’s house. 

You ring your bell to signal the end of the day. Your students are quick to all file out of the room–all except for Ellie, who lingers. 

“Saw what you’re doing at Joel’s,” she says, a small smile tugging at her upper lip, “I like it a lot.”

“Thanks. I figured I’d run into you while I was there. Where’ve you been?”

“I’ve been hanging in the garage. Joel ‘n I just got it all set up for me. Thought I’d give you and him some time alone.” 

“...Time alone?” 

“Yup. You know, alooooone time.” 

“Ellie. Come on now. Stop. I’m painting a freakin’ mural for him.”

“Okay, Teach, whatever you say,” she grins mischievously. “I see him looking at you all the time. He has big eyes, I don’t think he realizes I know exactly where he’s looking. I think he likes yoooou.” 

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Nope! I’m leaving you two alone. I’ll see you Monday!” Ellie winks from the doorway.

You shake your head as she leaves, you’ve never met a kid like her.

After laying out your library supplies for the morning and locking up the school, you hurry home to drop off your bag. You change into your painting clothes, eat one of your homemade granola bars, and pick up the gift you’ve grabbed for Joel. With a goodbye pet and nuzzle for your cats, you turn your lamp on and close the door behind you, stepping into the chilly, soaked spring evening. The short walk to Joel’s feels longer under the pouring rain.

For the third time in a week, you’re outside of Joel’s house wearing your same paint-splattered overalls. You return his smile when Joel opens the door with a dish towel in his hands.

“Come on in,” he says, drying his hands. You’ve become entranced by the sight of someone like him–capable and rough around the edges–do something so domestic. The same hands that wash dishes, cook dinner, and adjust couch pillows have also held weapons and taken lives. His voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “Hope the rain didn’t make it too bad gettin’ here.”

“Oh, it was fine,” you say, wiping your feet on his doormat and closing your umbrella. “Nothing was as bad as dealing with the kids today, they hate canceled training days.”

“M’sure of that,” Joel says, glancing down at the two umbrellas in your hand.

You hold one out to him. “So, I had a spare umbrella in my house, and was saving it for a– rainy day. I want you to have it so you don’t have to walk in the rain when you walk me–or someone else home.” 

“Mmhmm,” Joel nods and chuckles. “Only people I’ve walked home are you ’n technically Ellie to the garage. One time Tommy when he had a little too much to drink.”

“Well, it’ll do you more use than sitting in my closet.” 

“Thanks. Real sweet of you.” His eyes stay on yours for a moment. You’d give him a hundred umbrellas just to keep him looking at you this way. 

“I should start, should be done with everything tonight,” you huff out, while trying to calm your nerves.

“Course,” he steps aside to let you move into the room. Your brushes and paints are exactly where you left them the night before, but a new addition catches your eye.

Your breath hitches. “You moved your stereo in here?” 

“I did,” he says, stepping beside you. “Thought you’d like to pick whatever CD you want without havin’ to leave the room. It’ll be louder in here. Your book’s right next to it for you.”

“Joel… this is so sweet,” you gasp out while your fingers absentmindedly rub the daisy pendant around your neck. “You moved everything, this had to have taken a long time.”

“Was no problem,” he shrugs, “I wanted to do something nice for ya.”

“You’ve already done so much Joel,” you say softly.

“It’s been real nice havin’ you around,” his voice makes your heart race. “It’s bee–I like having your company in the evenings.”

“I’ve enjoyed being here too,” you reply with a smile, barely able to hear your own voice over the thudding in your chest.

He lingers for a moment before clearing his throat. “Alright then, I’m gonna let you get started. Put on some music, let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the dining room working.”

You nod, grateful for the moment to compose yourself as you pick up your CD book.

“And now we proudly present Songs perverse and songs of lament A couple hymns of confession And songs that recognize our sick obsessions So sing along I’m the ugly organ!”

It feels like twenty years ago. You paint as you play one of your favorite albums, The Ugly Organ. It still works, one of the few small miracles in the apocalypse. You pick it because you think Joel might just like it. 

Your mind drifts to a web of familiar thoughts as you paint…

There are so many things everyone lives without now:  traffic reports, amusement parks, cell phones, hot dogs, airplanes. Inconsequential things missed. Major life moments missed. You never got your driver's license. You never got to go to your first school dance with James, your cute friend who definitely had a crush on you too. You never got to go to Disney World. 

You learned fairly quickly that your survival was dependent on how much you could sacrifice and live without. Especially in the QZ, where bright colors disappeared under layers of dust and decay, once shiny metal rusting away. Three meals a day replaced by a morsel of food here and there to keep your stomach from growling. Freedom of choice becoming nonexistent.

But art? You still had art. You were lucky to have your three art notebooks and box of colored pencils. Those pencils whittled down by years and years of use. When the pages of your books filled up, you turned to your walls. Your ration cards were bartered for anything you could use to draw with whenever you could afford it. Your notebooks held your fantasy of a normal life:  a takeout coffee cup with a croissant on a plate next to a folded up newspaper, a Christmas tree adorned with ornaments and garland, a brick house with urns full of flowers by the front door, a bowl of macaroni and cheese. 

Then, Jackson. Jackson brought you color, Jackson brought you music, Jackson brought you a place to feel like you had a home. Jackson brought you your close circle of friends, Jackson brought you your belief in civility, and yourself, back. And Jackson gave you Joel. The thought of him sends a chill up your spine as you realize how special he’s become to you, more than just a crush… now a friend. 

The CD ends, after the rousing ten-minute-long final song. The lead singer repeats “the worst is over” along with a grand choir. The words resonate with you, you’re safe and happy here in Jackson. Life feels full… especially now as you’ve found some sort of companionship with Joel. 

You step back and admire the mural. Flowers begin to bloom across Joel’s wall. The water held in your paint jar turns just as violet as the bluebells across the wall. Your sense of pride in your art grows along with each painted bluebell. 

You pick up your CD book and flip through the pages, choosing the last CD you bought before that fateful fall day in 2003. Black birds fly across the reflective silver disc. You slide it into the stereo and hit play before picking up your brush. 

“I’m sinking like a stone in the sea, I’m burning like a bridge for your body”

The week before the world ended, you scheduled your drivers license test. Monday, September 29 at 4 PM. You were so close to freedom. You had already warned your favorite teacher that you’d have to leave art club early, and your mom requested off to take you in. You had practiced and studied, you were confident you’d pass. 

You glance towards the doorway, where you can faintly hear Joel working in the dining room. What was his life like back then? What did he drive? What kind of responsibilities did he have?  You know he was a contractor. What reason would he have to leave work early? 

You ponder about Joel's life before the outbreak as you paint each petal, getting lost in mixing the perfect indigo hues for each bell.

The final song plays, the singer croons over his acoustic guitar. He sings a story about a shipwreck, about death, about love. It’s your favorite, you never got to learn it on guitar. 

“What they call love is a risk, You'll always get hit, Out of nowhere, By some wave and end up on your own”

You finish the last few bluebells in complete silence save for the random hammer knocks coming from Joel in the other room.

You dip your brush in your jar of water and step back. Long green stems sprout from the baseboard, green wispy stalks shooting out embellished with bells of all different hues of lavender and indigo. You’re proud of what you’ve created for Joel, you hope he loves it. 

“Joel,” you call softly, peeking your head out of the doorway down the hall, “it’s done.”

You hear the scrape of the chair against the hardwood floor. Your heart begins to hammer against your chest as you hear his steps get closer. You’re nervous, so unbelievably nervous. You want him to like it, you’ve never done this for someone else. Nobody has ever asked you to share your creation with them in such a large size. Your art now takes up a piece of his home now, that feels monumental. 

You stand in front of the mural, staring forward at the mural as you hear him enter the room. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. You wait, feeling your heart thump against your chest as he stands behind you. Then, a sharp inhale from him.

“Wow…” he exhales. You can hardly hear him. “This is beautiful… thank you.” 

You want to smile and turn to him, be more present in the moment, but instead you feel like you don’t belong here. The vulnerability of this moment along with the feelings you have for him overwhelms you.

You nod, swallowing hard, still focusing on the wall. “I’m glad you like it,” you manage to say, your voice quiet and shy. 

“I… had a daughter before …everything. Name was Sarah,” the tenderness in his voice almost breaks you as you hear his revelation, “used t’call her my bluebell.”

Everything inside of you sinks at his admission. Sarah. You try to offer some sort of comfort, but everything feels inadequate. All you can do is apologize. “Joel… I’m sorry, so sorr—“

“I know you are,” he cuts you off gently. “I don’t need to hear that, please.”

He steps closer towards you, his front brushes against your back. “Seeing these flowers here… it means a lot.”

“I’m glad, I’m so glad,” a heartbroken whisper escapes your lips. 

“Thank you,” one of his calloused, large hands lands on your shoulder. Skin meeting skin where your tank top and overalls don’t cover. 

“You’re welcome, I feel honored to do this for you… and her.” You swallow down the sadness in your voice. Everyone’s lost so much, it’s an unspoken understanding for everyone who has survived.

“You’re so talented, this is gorgeous sweetheart. Y’sweet, so sweet,” Joel whispers as he turns you to face him. He grabs your hand, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. “The way you’ve come into here, making it more beautiful with your art, your music, ’n your laughter. You’re so soft and pure, don’t know how someone like you still exists.”

“Joel,” you exhale at his confession. Your skin tingles all over, your body begins to warm. His sweet words shush the sadness held within you. 

His hand lifts to your chin, tilting your face up towards him. “So sweet,” he says again, his eyes roam around your face. Your lips part instinctively, his eyes drop to them. He slowly leans in, his forehead rests against yours, his warm breath fans across your skin. “Wanted to kiss ya’ the day I saw your classroom. The mural on the wall… you make everything around you more beautiful.” 

You breathe in his words with every inhale, words you could only dream of somebody telling you. His hand lets go of yours and moves to your back drawing you closer against his body. The tip of his nose nudges against yours. His lips meet your lips–softly, slowly, deliberately. He’s so gentle with you, overwhelming you. The tenderness of his touch and of his care, it’s not something you’ve ever felt. He makes you feel warm, he makes you feel safe. 

You melt under his touch, your body becoming pliant as his strong arm wraps around your waist. His large hand rests on your hip, fingers tracing the fabric of your overalls. You’re a grown woman and he makes you feel so small and juvenile, kissing your crush in your paint stained overalls after a day at school. 

The kiss turns hungrier, breaths quickening, tongues tasting tongues, the casualness and comfortability of the past few days turning into fevered kisses. You snake your hands up his chest to wrap around his neck, threading your fingers through his wavy hair. He pulls you even closer, your body now smashed against his. Joel lets out a guttural groan that vibrates against your lips as he lifts you and moves the two of you back towards his work bench.

A loud CLANG interrupts everything. You both blink, breathless, and look down to see the jar of paint knocked over, indigo tinted water spreading across the floor.

“Goddamnit,” Joel utters as he sets you back down on the floor, his chest rises and falls with deep breaths. “Knocked over the paint water.”

“I’m sorry, I’m usually careful about where I place that.” 

“S’okay, I’ll go get a towel,” he says, already walking out of the room.

You use your small paint rag to pathetically mop up a small bit of water, still trying to catch your breath from what just happened. 

Were you really just kissing Joel Miller? Did Joel Miller want to kiss you? He did. He definitely kissed you, and you kissed him back. He even said he wanted to kiss you before. He called you sweet. Are you dreaming? The man you’ve written songs about, the man you’ve watched from the corner of the bar, the man you’ve thought about every day since the first time you first saw him. That man you just kissed you.

“Guess we lucked out it didn’t break.” Joel interrupts your inner dialogue as he kneels down and places the towel over the stain.

“Sorry again,” you apologize. 

“Don’t worry yourself, it’s cleaned up just fine, I’ve done much worse to these floors with stain and dirt.” He stands, offering his hand and you take it. You rise with a smile, he doesn’t let go of your hand, his palm covers yours. “See? Back to brand new.” 

He’s so reassuring and so tender, now you know why–Joel Miller has known love before. 

“Was hoping my favor to you would be done but it’s not. Come on.” 

He doesn’t drop your hand as he leads you down the hallway into the dining room. On the table lies a guitar surrounded by tools. “Should be done tomorrow, there’s a fret that’s giving me a helluva time, but other than that it’s all fixed.” 

Your eyes widen at the sight. Music. “Joel… I—I can’t believe this.” You beam at him. “Thank you.” 

“Course sweetheart,” he raises his hand to your cheek to touch you again. “It’s nothin’, wanted you to have your music back.” 

Your fingers brush over the hard wood of the body, you note a rough patch from a hole that Joel filled in. The guitar is so worn and rugged but also so soft and polished. It’s beautiful. 

Joel’s kind action surrounds your heart and plants a thought in your brain quickly realizing everything that you’ve done with him the past few days. Does Joel really like you the way you like him? It feels impossible. How would someone like him like someone like you? He’s strong and capable, you’re just a lone woman who likes to paint pretty pictures of animals and talk to her cats for entertainment. You know many of the rumors you’ve heard about big, bad Joel Miller are true. What’s this man doing using his time to make something nice for you? 

“Joel, this is–wow–so much. Are you sure?”

He nods, his eyes steady on yours. “M’sure, I’m happy to do it, it really wasn’t difficult, ’n like I said, I just have to fix the last fret and it’ll be good.”

“Thank you, again, I can’t believe this.” 

“Believe it,” he says softly, his hand lingering on you cheek before letting it fall.

It’s so much, everything that has gone on between the two of you begins to overwhelm you–making you even more tired than you realize. You hide a yawn behind your forearm, blinking your tired eyes a couple of times. “Sorry,” you yawn again, “I always get tired on Friday evenings.”

He watches you, a look of affection in his eyes. “S’alright. I know you’re tired ’n have an early morning tomorrow.”

“I do…” as much as you hate to admit it, you should get home. You don’t want to. The affection, the kiss, the look in Joel’s eyes when he looks at you. You really like being here. You don’t know if you’ll get another chance. 

“I’ll walk you home, sweetheart. You have a lot to take.” 

There it is again. Sweetheart. Three times now, he’s called you that.

“I’m going to get all of my stuff packed up.” 

“Sure, I’ll help you,” he says, following you back into his studio. 

You start gathering your paints into your cardboard box, while Joel gingerly takes your CD out of the player, his movements measured as if he knows how much the disc means to you. Another sign of Joel’s ability to care that makes you fall deeper for him. 

“You know… like I said last night… you can come over any time and use my stereo,” he says, placing a hand on his neck and rubbing it back and forth.

He actually looks nervous as he extends his offer to you, making your heart skip a beat.

“I… yeah, that sounds really nice.” 

Joel picks up your box full of paint off of his work table, his eyebrows furrowing critically at the sight of the worn cardboard. “This box is on its last straw, you know that, right?”

“I do, I just… don’t really have anything else big enough to fit everything that I can easily carry.”

“Hmm,” he grunts disapprovingly, as if he truly does care about the inanimate objects that belong to you. 

“I hardly have to take it places, so it’s not that terrible,” you offer.

“Still deserve better than that,” he says under his breath tucking the box under his arm. 

Joel opens his door before grabbing his new umbrella. “No need to use yours, this’ll work for both of us.” 

“We’ve shared one before,” you smile.

Your comment grants a chuckle from Joel. You love hearing his laugh. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

The rain is light now–almost more of a mist–there’s no reason for an umbrella, but neither of you acknowledge or mention it. You like being under it with Joel, you like feeling the way your bodies brush against each other. You like how he angles it to fully cover you, leaving his large frame half open to the elements. 

As your home comes into view, you start to feel a pang of sadness. You don’t want this walk to end. You’ve never felt like this with anybody before. The instant comfortability of him, the way you can make him laugh, and the way he watches you, as if he can’t take his eyes off of you. 

Joel places the box of paints down on your porch table. “You home tomorrow night?” 

“Yeah. Just have the library, but I’m usually back here by the late afternoon.”

“S’alright if I come by and drop your guitar off in the evening?”

“Yes, of course it is,” your voice squeaks a little too high with excitement. 

He smiles, stepping closer, his broad frame towering over you, blocking the soft glow of the porch light. “Alright sweetheart, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” his voice low, eyes locked on your lips.

Your back presses against the door, your heart pounding against your chest as he leans in. “Yes, tomorrow,” you manage to whisper out.

“Thank you for your beautiful gift,” he says softly, his breath warm against your skin. “I‘m gonna go sit in my chair, and look at it.”

“You’re welcome,” another whisper even quieter than the one before.

Joel leans in closer, angling his head down to place a quick soft kiss against your lips, you barely have a chance to savor it before he’s pulling away. 

He cups your cheek again. “G’night sweetheart,” his low voice makes your knees weak, thankful for he front door against your back. You watch as he turns and walks away, this time he doesn’t look back.

The Middle & What's In Between - Joel's Version

[incorrectbatfam]

What do the bat kids eat for breakfast?

(Have you done this already? Sorry of so)

Dick: cold pizza because someone finished his cereal

Jason: Dick's cereal

Tim: espresso and Dick's pizza crust

Damian: a full Middle Eastern breakfast that he refuses to share

Duke: a hard-boiled egg in a single bite

Cullen: peanut butter from the jar

Stephanie: please don't make me say it

Cassandra: leftover dinner smoothie

Barbara: yogurt and granola, wtf is wrong with these people

Harper: a block of cream cheese

Carrie: Alfred's cookies

BONUS

Kate: a Pop Tart

Alfred: his guilty pleasure, McDonald's pancakes

Selina: a formal invitation to Damian's breakfast if she brings her cats

Bruce: toast and hot orange juice

[hurtspideyparker]

The Avengers as High School Friend Group Archetypes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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