#eating tomato soup and going back to writing
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bamsara · 1 year ago
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why do all my friends hate tomato. i love tomato. in all friend groups online and in real life, no one like tomato :( but then all my friends pick tomato slices out from their hamburgers and go 'here sara' and i have so many tomatos :) love is real
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whoslaurapalmer · 9 months ago
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chipping away at this fic (yes i am feeling better about The Concept Of Creating Words today.) and can you tell i am really looking forward to dinner
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serqphites · 2 months ago
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been sick for so long and all i need is abby to take care of me like the good girlfriend that she is !!! also look at her lil smile im acc deceased nobody speak to me ever again
16+, modern!au, sfw, throwing up (r!), this is short and ass
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do not even THINK about lying to this girl about your sickness… she will not buy a single second of it.
"abby i promise you i'm-" sneeze, "fine..." is there even any point trying to defend your case any longer when abby is looking at you like an unimpressed, disappointed mother with her hands on her hips?
she's already called issac to tell him that she isn't going to be in work until you're better. he tried to refuse and order her to come in, but abby didn't back down and stood her ground until he eventually backed off because nobody is more important than her girl!!
she quite literally cannot leave you alone, always rushing whenever she has to leave your side just in case you need her (she definitely trips and eats shit on the stairs because she was trying to get back to your room a lil too fast)
laying on her chest!!! her big arms wrapped around you and holding you close, kisses being peppered atop your head whenever she enters a cutscene in whatever game she's playing because you begged her to let you watch her play. it took a little convincing because abby just wants you to sleep and get the rest you need, but the second you flashed her those sad puppy dog eyes she was handing you the controller to let you pick out a game for her to play.
this girl always has tissues on her, stuffing her pockets full of them so she's ready for whenever you need them
i can just picture you making those funny noises people do before sneezing and abby practically TELEPORTING to you and shoving a scrunched up tissue in your face. she would be so proud of herself too and just look at you like "did i help? :D" yes you did sweetie you did such a good job!!!
you can’t convince that this girl doesn’t make the best grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup known to mankind, it’s always her go to when you’re sick (not that you’re complaining because it’s INCREDIBLE)
not being able to sleep because you can’t breathe and you’re just in so much pain, so abby lays awake with you until you eventually fall asleep :( unless she knows you’re okay and asleep she physically cannot fall asleep, her mind won’t let her.
abby for sure keeps a bucket on her side of the bed for in the middle of the night (she doesn’t want you trying to reach for it and accidentally falling and hurting yourself)
abby is jolted awake almost immediately once you yourself wake up with a startle, shooting up into a sitting position as your hands fly to your mouth. she’s springing into action without even realising it, reaching down as quickly as possible to snatch the bucket and place it into your lap. “in the bucket baby, good girl there you go” she mumbles in that raspy sleep voice, one of her hands keeping a hold of the bucket in case you can’t while her free hand moves up to hold back your hair.
abby running you a bath with all of your favourite essentials lined up ready for you (need that). oh and she is 1000000% washing your hair and body for you, she can’t have her baby tiring herself out now can she?
even when you start to feel better she’s still just as attentive, you assure her that she can stop and just take a break but abby just continues whatever she was doing like she literally can’t hear you LMAO
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a/n: i’m genuinely so sorry this is so bad 😭 im still sick and barely had the energy to write this but i just wanted to post something SO bad. hope you’re all having a good day/night !! <3
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fuckingrecipes · 2 months ago
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My biggest hangup with cooking vegetables with my dinners is that it’s impossible to purchase one portion of most veggies. Like, eating by myself, I’ll never need an *entire* sliced onion, or whatever number of veggies get bundled into one purchase, like a bag of green beans. How can I work around this so I’m not wasting money by using half a product and then letting the rest go bad?
2 things.
First: Do you have access to refrigeration?
If you have a fridge, you can put the green beans in the fridge to prolong their life.
If you have a fridge, you can cook enough food for 3-4 meals and then before sitting down to eat your portion of dinner, put the extra meals in an airtight-sealed storage container in the fridge so you can eat it for lunch tomorrow & dinner the next day.
Most cooked food is good for like, 4-5 days in the fridge. Having leftovers available means I don't have to cook tomorrow, I can just scoop some into a bowl, put the rest back, and reheat what's in my bowl using a microwave or stovetop pan.
If you don't have access to refrigeration, come back and we'll talk about options.
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Second: "I’ll never need an entire sliced onion"
..... wwwwwwhaet? Hi, my name's bewilderment, nice to meet you. What on earth are you talking about?
Eating an entire onion is fine. You're allowed. Onions are tasty. You can also eat raw onion on salads, tacos, & various other shit.
I've never encountered a casual dinner recipe that could be ruined by cooking a whole onion instead of half of one.
You're allowed to eat a meal that's just a huge pile of cooked onions & green beans with spices on it. It's great. There are no food cops that will materialize at your door to stop you.
You're also allowed to eat just an entire can of green beans as a meal, or just a whole bag of carrots.
You're also allowed to cook your whole sliced onion, and use some of the cooked slices in tonight's meal, and store half of the cooked onion in the fridge to drop into a noodle dish tomorrow night.
You can also cut the onion in half, use half of it tonight, and half of it tomorrow. Leftover raw ingredients are also an option.
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I guess I'm a little confused why you're holding on to produce and not eating it - or you're buying so much produce that you can't eat it all in 1 week.
Fresh produce should get priority when choosing what to eat. If there's fresh veggies & fruit available, every meal should include some.
Stir Frying uses a lot of fresh veggies all at once, so is a good option if you need to quickly use it up.
There's loads and loads and loads of vegetable-heavy recipes available online. Write down what ingredients you have a lot of and look for recipes that include them.
Making SOUP can also use basically ALL your remaining veggies, if they're reaching the end of their lifespan. Soup broth can be frozen for months.
You can also chop a bunch of veggies into itty bitty bits, dump the whole pile into pan with some oil, fry until they start to change color & soften, then dump in a can of diced tomatoes & a shitload of herbs and spices to make Sauce to use.
For the rest of the week, all you need to do is cook some noodles, meat, or hell - bigger chunks of vegetables!
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If you have a hard time remembering when a vegetable might go bad, or keep forgetting you have a vegetable so it sits in the fridge till it rots - stick a whiteboard to your fridge, with a dry-erase marker.
Write the NAME of the veggies and the DATE you put them in, and the DATE you need to eat it before.
When figuring out what to cook check that list and pick 1-2 of the oldest veggies so you can use them up before they go bad.
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If the problem is forgetting your veggies exist when they're out of sight in the bottom drawers of the fridge, then don't put them in there!
For a long time, I put most of my veggies in the little shelves on the fridge door, and put all my sauces in the bottom drawers, so I could immediately see all my produce every time I opened the fridge.
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My advice boils down to:
Eat larger amounts of vegetables.
Eat vegetables with more meals.
Seek out recipes that use them, if you don't know what to do with what you've got.
Use refrigeration to prolong the life of both raw ingredients and leftovers.
Make and Eat Leftovers.
Keep track of your produce better so you know what's more likely to spoil soon & can eat it before the bacteria do.
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writersdrug · 3 months ago
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Please continue to write literally anything for konig, I’m having the worst work week of my life and your fics always sustain me! I just finished chapter 13 and I almost cried because I realised I’d have to wait for more to come out 😔 this isn’t really a request or question just encouragement!!!
I don't have much queued up for König besides I Don't Need You, but here are some headcannons I have!! Also I'm sorry your work week was bad, let König cheer you up
NSFW at the end
We all know he would love to go on rants bout knives, guns, history, etc. But I also imagine that if you tried to chime in with your own, semi-relatable topic he'd glare at you and say "I wasn't finished," before continuing on his schpeel. He's not trying to be mean, he just has to tell you about Richard the third and how he definitely killed the two princes in the tower.
If you ask if the two of you can get a cat, he comes home the next day with one - but he didn't go to the pet store, or a shelter. He went to the restaraunt you always drag him to and waited by the dumpster with a can of tuna. Caught the scruffy thing and brought it to you, tucked under an arm with a big smile on his face.
He had to help you bathe the spitting kitten, poor baby was covered in fleas.
This man unironically adores the bucket of chicken you can get from KFC. Just a pail of chicken all for himself.
If you're out shopping or really anywhere where you take the lead, people are always asking if you're ok - "That man looks like he's following you," they whisper, "do you need me to get someone to walk you out?"
It's just König, standing behind you in a balaclava, hands in his pockets and dark clothing. Just 👁👁
Goes for an hour-long run at 4 am every morning, comes home to shower, then crawls back in bed with you to sleep until you have to go to work.
His phone screen is probably gross. Lock screen is you, doing your makeup and wearing a stunning dress for date night, unaware of König lurking in the doorway for a photo; background is the poster for Lord of the Rings: Return of the King
This man is known as a terror among door salesmen. They're just trying to get him to buy their services for cleaning gutters and he's dragging them to the backyard to show them how he cleans it himself, talking to them for an hour about how you don't need to hire someone to do "simple work"
He plays D&D with other veterans every Thursday night - you both usually host at your house, and he gives you an appreciative smile/pat when you come through with more drinks.
(Based on a tiktok) he once came in through the back door, standing in the dining room awkwardly as he watched you sort through the mail. He stared at you with a blank expression, until you finally looked back at him. "What's wrong, baby?"
He then slapped a lizard on the table, making you scream and throw a pile of mail at the thing as it scurried across the wood. He laughed for a good thirty minutes.
When he's sick, he tries to get away with downing a shot of Everclear and moving on with his day. "Alcohol kills bacteria, no?" (You'll have none of that nonsense, and he's not complaining when you dote on him and hand-feed him soup.)
If you're in the shower, he's in the shower. Doesn't matter if he had one an hour ago.
If you have a child, he loves to gaslight them (especially in their elementary years). Agrees to play Princess with them, but then proceeds to say that he's the Princess.
"I'm always the Princess!"
"Nein, you said I could be this time!"
"No I didn't!"
"Well I'm the Princess, so I make the rules."
Believes eating your pussy will make you feel better in any situation (sometimes it does). Bad day at work? He's kneeling in front of you and telling you to flip your skirt up. Cramps? Orgasms are the best remedy, schatz. Your tomatoes aren't growing well this year? Ah, shucks. Let him eat you out.
Anyways this is bleh but hope this helps!!
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ggsbooks123 · 1 year ago
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Memory Garden
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peeta mellark x female mc (Jude Slone)
summary; you made haymitch promise, if it came down to you or Peeta that he’d save Peeta. And he did. But now you’re back from the Capitol with one thing certain, Peeta Mellark is the one true enemy.
warnings: angst angst angst, mean thoughts ab peeta beloved and honestly just a lot of writing i didn’t need to do
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Peeta did this.
The mantra floated through my head, as I yanked on the restraint again.
He’s the reason everyone you love is against you.
Another yank.
He blew up District 12
“Jude, feeling hungry yet?” Haymitch’s voice breaks the static but the mantra just quietens but doesn’t stop. My hand drops the bind.
“What do you have?” It was a better response than i’d given lately. What if Peeta tried to kill me and poisoned my portion… I couldn’t risk it. “No, I don’t want it”
He sighs, still coming towards me with the tray “I promise you, Peeta doesn’t want you dead. You know that, think”
I scowled, “I know what I saw. I know what he did. He’s a monster, Haymitch. Don’t make me, I dont want his filthy blood on my hands” He scoffed, dropping the tray onto the table next to me.
“Let’s hope lover boy comes and feeds you bevause I’m not putting up with this” And with that he leaves the room.
I glanced at the tray, tomato soup with toast coated in possibly cheese, but it’s not the delicious toast that catches my eye, the soup, it’s not red. They’ve added ingredients to make it appear more orange… Not bright orange.
A sunset.
“I still remember that Christmas he brought me that green sweater. Green doesn’t suit me” I say, the air was brisk and I hated walking in the Winter but I couldn’t turn Peeta down when he came to my door.
“I refuse to believe you look bad in anything” I scoff, glad it’s cold knowing he might take that as thhe reason my cheeks are now red. “What is your favourite colour?”
I raise my eyebrow at him “I’m sure there are better things to talk about then my favourite colour”
He watches me as we walk for a moment “I don’t see anything more important” It makes me slow to a stop, “Tell me, please. I want to know”
I look to him, his kind blue eyes and blond hair that looks incredibly soft without all those products they use during interviews, he looks beautiful.
“It used to be red but I think i’m leaning towards purple” I shrug, “It’s only fair that i’ve revealed that secret you tell me yours”
He smiles before looking up at the sun, it’s setting letting the streaks of orange paint the sky “Orange, right there. It’s the second most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen” I glance at him unsure as to why he’d say second until I see the look in his eyes.
My head snaps at the memory, cruel and unforgiving. That’s what Peeta was, and he would hurt me so I had to kill him before he tried first.
His face twists in the memory as I replay it over and over again, he doesn’t look like himself, Hatred flared in a moment that was full of pure adoration. I see it now like i’m looking through a camera at the two of us.
He looks like he loves me… Then his eyes lose their spark like a snap and he’s spitting awful words at me, one’s ill never forget.
I’ll never forget he’s the reason i’m like this.
The food goes cold and I go another day without eating and under sedation after I nearly come out of binding when they try to insert the needle into my arm to get food into my body.
I awake in an empty room but there’s a buzz in the air, I look to the mirror across from me. I look better than I did the first time I looked inside, I’d look better if I ate proper food but I can’t, he wants me dead and he won’t fail again.
The door hisses open bringing my attention away from my strangely hair, Katniss stands at the door, tears in her eyes.
“You need to eat something” She whispers but the room is so quiet i’m not surprised if she can hear my blaring thoughts or the alarm going off in my head.
“Get out” I spit, turning away from her. Katniss was close to Peeta, never too close for respect of me which I hated now, she should have stopped whatever was forming between the two of us. Now it’s this. “I don’t want to see you.”
“It’s been months, I thought-“ She tries to speak but she stops when my head snaps to her aswell, her eyes are searching my face. I still look awful, I know that and it seems she still hasn’t come to terms with what I had gone through. Why don’t they see it’s his fault? Always.
“He’s the reason this happened to me, Katniss. And you’re still going to side with him. If you don’t kill him then he’ll kill me Katniss, Don’t you see!” I scream, her back hits the door and it hisses open and my heart stops.
There, he is. He’s not expecting the door to open, the surprise on his face is evident as those blue eyes bore into mine and I steel myself preparing for the hatred, his attempts to end my life.
But neither happen, he watches me with nothing but sadness and his hands are empty, just slack at his sides as he takes a step forward and I’m frozen, It’s not making sense.
He keeps coming closer and my heart is beating out my chest. Run! He’s going to kill you! My head screams but he doesn’t look like he will kill me, he looks like he wants to be next to me and holding me through this, possibly the one feeding me the tomato soup like Haymitch suggested.
“Jude… Please, I’d never-“ He seems to choke on his words as a tear slips down his cheek “Come back to me” Come back and trust me so I can kill you, I hear instead. The words make me flinch, the movement is so large the whole bed moves with me, screeching.
He backs away, the door hisses open again but he doesn’t move to get out “You’re just here to kill me!” I cried, wishing him out of the room.
Get out. Get out. Get out!!!
I must’ve screamed the last time because he’s gone and finally the screaming in my head stops and I fall to the bed, the thought of food or anything fades, only the want to be far from him stays.
I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd hunger games, i’m from District Twelve and Peeta Mellark does not want me dead.
I repeat in my head over and over again, as the truck rolls over cracks and bumps, my body jumps at each bit of debris we hit and I hit the metal seat hard each time but the pain is real. Which is hard to say about a lot lately.
Peeta Mellark wants doesn’t want you dead.
I shake my head, thst one was the hardest to remember and at times, it was no where reachable and all that would sustain me in that moment would be his blood on my hands.
Finally the truck pulled to a stop, I straightened my shoulders. I’d been taken by the Capital and my memories have been distorted, my first thought may not always be the right one.
With that final word of encouragement I let the anxiety slip from me as the back door opens and I’m led out. The sun blinds me for a moment, I’d only seen it for a moment when they made me leave base but only to be stuffed back in the van.
Now I could see the destruction. His fault. No, no, no. I took a deep breath, before turning to seeing the loving welcome party at the front of what seemed to be an abandoned building.
Katniss with her bow, Gale with his crossbow and the five members of their squad had their guns trained on me, including Peeta. My heart hammered but I kept upright as I took the empty gun from the guard before waltzing my way towards the group.
I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd Hunger Games, I am from Distrisct 12 and None of these people want me dead.
“What is she doing here?” Katniss is the first to speak and though her eyes are trained on me, i know she doesn’t want me to answer.
“Coin wants her to be shown on screen, the victors fighting on the same side” A dark man, who screamed military spoke and he was the only one besides Finnick who hadn’t raised their gun at me. “I don’t like the gun”
“Cant have me fighting with my bare hands on screen” I mutter, before shaking the weapon “It’s empty”
The tension seemed to ease slightly in the group but while half of them had lowered their weapons, Peeta, Katniss and Gale hadn’t. I had to remember what I’d been like this past month, I wouldn’t trust me either.
“I don’t like this” Peeta. His words cut deep and I deflate at them before the military man waves everyone to come inside, not before a solider by the name of Jackson, she told me, quietly instructed me that i’d be restrained for their safety.
“I understand, but I’m not a child”
“No just someone who went through a lot of shit” Finnick says behind Jackson, and my eyes dart up. I didn’t know where my mind stood with Finnick, I didn’t feel like killing him but I hadn’t felt like killing Peeta a moment ago but we all knew it would come.
It was why I was being restrained in the first place. I nod at his words, unsure of how to respond before they lead me inside. The wall along the door was made of glass and I watched as the van that stopped me off, vanished in the distance.
I was stuck here and I didn’t know if I would ever leave this ruin of a city. I kept my distance from the group as they moved into the centre and I took a seat beside the window.
“We’ll have to set up an around the clock guard on her, we can take shifts” Military man said, turning to look at me. “I’ll take the first shift, Names Boggs.”
I preferred Military man but I nodded all the same, “I want a shift” Peeta’s voice is small compared to Boggs but it silences the room all the same.
“Not happening” Jackson speaks up this time, confusing me on who’s in command.
“I can do it!” Peeta argued back, standing from his seat “It’s not her… The Capital killed her and whoever they sent back to us, i’ll be happy to put a bullet in its head” I flinched, turning my eyes down to my hands. Clenching them, was I dead? The girl I was? I shake my head, I am Jude Slone and I did not die in the Capital. They broke me but I am not unfixable. I am broken not unfixable.
I am unfixable.
“I’m not sure seeing as a mutt helps” Jackson declares but Boggs cuts her off
“Give him a shift, Katniss too.” There was no room for argument as Jackson nodded and began to schedule the guard clock. I wanted to be more helpful, tell them that maybe they could go an hour and they could all rest, but I didn’t even trust myself to do that.
Instead I kept silent, letting the rest of them discuss our plan while I watched the day pass by through the glass. “How’re you feeling?” Finnick’s voice from beside me makes me jump. I turn to him and he looks almost glowing, I’d heard something about him and Annie.
I knew I would feel happy for him if I didn’t feel so disconnected. Finnicks memories that came to mind now only brought warmth, nothing haunting. Which was relieving, he was a breath of fresh air.
“Away, I feel like everything’s happening and I’m not really here” I try to explain and he seems to understand. “I don’t want to be a problem, I don’t know why they sent me here… I’m not ready.”
He frowns, “I think you’re where you need to be, normally whenver Annie gets confused she asks me, and I promise you, you’ll find nothing but the truth here” I glance over to the group who had begun to seperate and close their eyes.
It must be Finnicks shift. The thought made this whole encounter turn cold but still, I took in his words as my eyes trained on the baker boy. “Peeta was the reason this happened to me… Real?”
He shakes his head, “You made Haymitch swear if it came down to the two of you that he’d get Peeta to safety” Finnick explained but my mind screamed at me that he was lying. Why would I ask that? Peeta and I didn’t get along, no, we did and we’d almost- I didn’t know what we almost did or if he hated me or loved me and it made me want to rip my hair out as my thoughts banged against my head.
He was not the reason you went to the Capital, you chose this. You didn’t want him to go through this… That felt right, staring at him now, I would never wish upon him those nights in the Capital.
“I know it must be hard. Annie went through a lot but they know that the Capital never left you alone, you were their main priority.” Finnick places a hand on my shoulder, bringing my fully to the present for what felt like the first time. “None of us blame you at all for what happened.
I forgot how long it’s been since someone had been gentle with me. Skin to skin, human contact. My body released its pressure, relaxing in my seat. “Thank you, Finnick”
He smiled before sitting up straighter, and we together sat in silence watching the night sky slowly fall upon us as the rest that were awake finally knocked off
“Get some rest” Finnick muttered to me softly, tapping my leg as he got up. I could see his eyes dropping a while ago but he still stayed and it relieved me that he was finally putting himself first.
I nodded, I would not be sleeping tonight. Each time I closed my eyes another memory would wash over me, I’ve started to get better at knowing if it’s real or not without verification.
Like the one of Peeta and Is confession of our favourite colours, it was easier to picture him smiling at me now instead of anger and whenever it did dissolve to the image it was almost too perfect, his freckles gone and the scar he got from the 75th games vanished, as did the dark circles under my eyes and the few strands out of place were perfectly flat. Too perfect.
I watched Finnick rouse Peeta and point over to me. Of course, I could only get so lucky. I heard someone clear their throat before they took a seat across from me. I didn’t look up. I didn’t know where my mind would jump to.
And he seemed to take the message, he didn’t try to speak to me either. She asks me. I promise you’ll find nothing but truth here.
Finnick was right, I couldn’t close myself off and hope I’d be able to fix myself. If it was that easy, I’d be normal again. “Finnick told me that whenever i’m having trouble differentiating real from not real I should just ask…”
I glanced up at him, in the darkness it was hard to make out his uniform but his blonde hair and pale skin were easy to spot and it made my body tingle as I registered just how close he was and I didn’t feel like wringing my hands around his neck. Relief.
“Shoot away” I raised an eyebrow “Not literally” I smiled softly at that before cycling through my head and I settled back into his favourite colour. What if I asked and his favourite was blue or something? Sunset orange was just another lie they filled into my head. Ask.
“Your favourite colour. It’s sunset orange, real? Not real?” I clench my fists, please. please.
“Real… Yours used to be red but after the hunger games you couldn’t stand it” He explained, and he was right. I used to tie a red bow into my hair everyday until my reaping now the colour reminded me of the slaughter in the 73rd Hunger games.
“But you said you were beginning to like purple… I remember that day, I told you the sunset was the second most beautiful thing i’d ever seen… And the first was right in front of me” I stiffened, though the confession didn’t shock me, looking back I could’ve seen it if I looked hard enough in the moment “And it’s killing me, bevause you’re right in front of me again but you’re like the stars I can’t reach. I… Can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do. And it feels really, really shitty, knowing we might never get through this”
He stands abruptly from his seat “I can’t do this” And he storms out, but I’m clenching my fists too tight to stop, swearing at every god to let this memory stay and not be corrupted by fear. I can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do because if I came closer you’d kill me. Was the truth.
— — —
do we want a part two?!?
part two out now!
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sunflowersteves · 1 year ago
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can you write about carmy getting his first blowjob????
the way I crave this man is insane 😩 of course I can, hun
pairing || carmen berzatto x fem!reader
warnings || fluff, established relationship, reader has manicured nails, SMUT, blowjob, mention of eating out, praise kink, 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI
masterlist
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It was way past closing time at the restaurant. All of the other employees had left, finishing their duties, while Richie was furiously cleaning the floors. His arm felt like it was about to fall off as he scrubbed the dirty tile.
Carmen, on the other hand, was chopping vegetables. His hand moved fast across the cutting board, making thumping sounds as the knife sliced each carrot.
Richie scoffed. “Do you seriously need to do this right now, cousin?”
Carmen didn’t even blink. He just continued to chop up the remaining vegetables, with all of his focus on cooking. After putting the carrots into the pot, he starts to finely dice a red onion.
“Yes, cousin. I just—I just need to perfect this recipe, and then we’re good.” 
Richie rolled his eyes but still scrubbed. “You’re such a jagoff.”
Carmen had a habit of trying to perfect every single recipe thrown his way. When he tasted the soup earlier, his nose scrunched up. Something about it just felt off—and it was driving him insane. It tasted too salty and too acidic. He needed to figure out how to make it better.
He turned to the boiling pot of chicken stock and gently placed the onion slices into the stew. “Yo, cousin. I got it. Go home.” He didn’t even wait for an answer as he expertly sliced into a tomato.
Richie stood up from the ground. “Sure. Just don’t make your girl wait too long.”
For the first time in their conversation, Carmen looked over at him. There was even a small smile on his lips. “Never. Not to her.”
Richie half-smiled. “Alright, you fuckin’ sap. I’m leaving.” On the inside, Richie was beaming. He couldn’t get over how happy you make Carmen—hell, how happy you make the whole kitchen. Your presence was entirely needed in a place like this.
He knocked twice on the office door and announced his leave to you. You opened the door with a wide grin and bid him goodnight. “Don’t forget to tell Eva about the tickets!” You called out as Richie walked out the door.
Richie was practically glowing at the mention of his daughter. “Thank you for finding amazing seats, by the way, sweetheart! You’re a fucking lifesaver!” With that, Richie was out of sight as the door closed on him.
Carmen’s eyes flickered up at the sound of your voice. His head swiveled around to see you already staring at him. Your body leaned over the office door frame—pretty manicured nails sparkling against the contrasted white of the walls.
“Hi, baby.” He says. 
“Hi, Carm.” You say back, smiling. 
He puts the sharp knife down and wipes his hand on the towel that was over his shoulder. You walk over to him in the kitchen, and he relishes the proximity of your presence. Your fingers trace the outline of his bicep, and a shiver crawls up his spine. Your hand settles onto his shoulder, and you give a small squeeze.
Your relationship was fairly new. It would officially be three months tomorrow, to be exact. It had gone by pretty fast if he was being honest, but it just felt so good being with you. Despite the newly founded relationship, Carmen couldn’t get over how much you truly mean to him.
You were everything from the late Sunday mornings of snuggling under the sheets to the crazy late nights of telling stories out in the front house of the restaurant. To make matters worse, you got along so well with all of the staff at The Bear. You calmed him down when everything seemed to be directly opposing him. You were always there to press a finger to his chin and a kiss on his cheek. He swore his heart palpitated against his chest every time he thought about you.
“Can I taste?”
He nodded, grabbing a small spoon and dipping it into the soup. His hand hovered under the bottom so it wouldn’t spill. “Open your mouth, baby.”
You did as he said and let your jaw slack open. He places the spoon into your mouth, and you let the delicious, salty soup slide down your throat.
You moan against the spoon. “Holy fuck, Carm.” His eyes never left your face in an attempt to understand your reaction. “That was the best thing I have ever tasted.”
He finally smiles. He felt like he was glowing. “You say that every time I ask you to try something.”
You slid your hand down his chest, feeling the imprint of the chain that rests under his uniform. “And I mean it every fucking time.” His heart buzzed against his chest. His mind felt hazy. He wrapped an arm around your waist and squeezed the soft, plush flesh. His bright eyes were so intense—so full of affection—that it was starting to make you feel hot.
“You wanna taste it too?” You asked innocently.
He nodded and reached for another clean spoon. You smiled wide at the idea of him getting a sparkling clean spoon. He was quickly derailed by the way your lips crashed onto his. He let out a surprised groan, his eyes fluttering close.
You moved in sync until you pushed your tongue into his mouth and tasted the sweet essence of him. He tasted the chicken and onions from the delectable, tasty soup. It was much better than what he had tasted earlier. “Fuck—” He murmured in between the deep kisses. You bubbled out a laugh, but his hand stayed firm on your waist. He didn't want to end the way he felt when your lips graced his own.
You pull apart after the desperation of air becomes too much. You almost laugh again at the sight of his swollen lips and pretty pink cheeks. “See? Taste’s good, doesn’t it?”
A small smirk caressed his lips, but the flustered look was still there. “It tastes very good, sweet girl.”
The nickname prickled goosebumps onto your arms. He has called you that since your third date, but it never ceases to make your heart flutter. He knows it too.
You both start to gravitate toward each other once more. This time the kiss was more intense, with more teeth clashing and attempting to bruise each other’s lips.
“Carmy.” You whine. He growled into you in response and pressed another searing kiss onto your mouth. His hands grip your waist even tighter as if to pull you in even more. A moan slipped from the back of your throat.
Your hands move to the plains of his chest before pushing the two of you apart. His eyebrows furrow as you completely pull away from his embrace. Did he hurt you? It was all he could think. He didn’t want to fuck this up. No, he can’t fuck this up.
“Baby?” He whispers, sounding uncertain.
You don’t say a thing as you sink your knees to the ground, causing Carmen to gasp. His eyes were wide as his stare intensified. “F-Fuck.” His mouth bobs open and closed, trying to find some other words, but all he does is whisper your name.
Your hands moved up and down his thighs. The fabric of his chef uniform was soft against your palms. “Can I take care of you, Carmy?”
Oh, fuck. Your voice sounded so sweet—so thick and kind against his ears. He could feel his cock throb at the anticipation of your touch.
You wait for his answer, still gently rubbing his thighs back and forth. He felt like he was on fire. Nerves crash over him, though. His heart starts to speed up at the anxiety that prickles his skin. He had never done this before.
It wasn’t that the opportunity didn’t arise because it did. You asked many times if he wanted a blowjob, but all he wanted was to lick into your folds again. It was like his mind was drunk off of the sweet, tangy nectar, and he wasn't about to let go. He needed you more and more. He discovered he was much more of a giver.
Normally, he takes his sweet time with you. The first time he had ever tasted anyone was you. He always asks—that desperation in his voice. “Can I taste you? Please? F-Fuck, I see you dripping. Oh—Please?” Once he got confirmation, he would spread your legs and dip his tongue into your sweet folds. He could eat you out for hours—and he has.
He would groan against you as his tongue pushed through your folds. You tasted tangy and sour—so sweet to his taste buds, making his hands grip an indent into your flesh. The whimpers and whines that you let out are music to his ears, and he wishes the sounds were burned onto his soul. His eyes would always be latched onto yours, refusing to break the intense contact. He could fucking live in your pussy.
He couldn’t say no to you, though, could he? His cock was about ready to start leaking pre-cum. Your eyes looked so dilated and large with lust that he couldn't resist. 
“F-fuck, okay. Yeah, baby. J-just—” He breaks out into a moan from your eager hands. They pushed down his pants, pooling around his ankles almost in an instant.
“Wait-wait—”
You stop immediately and let go of his thighs. Some concern is etched across your face, and it makes his heart skip a beat.
“I just—I just want you to know that I’ve never done this before. I don’t—” He gulps. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
You almost let out a gasp. It was his first blowjob that you were going to give him, and he was worried about you. His eyebrows are furrowed and he's huffing out a breath. He just didn't want you to feel like you have to do something like this.
“Oh, Carmy, baby, I’m not uncomfortable at all. I’ve been wanting to do this to you for so long, but you kind of get distracted.” There was that implication that he knew about so well. A blush kissed the tip of his ears.
“You sure, baby? I’m not-I’m not forcing you?”
You wanted to know who hurt this man. His anxiety about making you feel comfortable was always through the roof. You grabbed his clenched hand and opened his palm. You pressed a sweet kiss. “No, baby. You’re not forcing me.”
He visibly relaxes his shoulders. “Okay.” He breathes out. “Okay.”
You avert your attention back to his thighs—and what’s between them. He could practically see your mouth water at the bulge that protruded out from his boxers. Carmen had always been big. No one had ever told him that before, in the late kind-of drunken night stands that he had. When you first had sex at his apartment and could really take a peek at his weeping cock, your eyes widened drastically.
You knew he was big, but goddamn, he is big.
“Can I, handsome?”
You looked up at him with a cute smile. The nickname caused his heart to stutter—his cheeks deepening the shade of red. "Yeah, baby." He says. Then he whispers, “Please.”
You dragged his boxers down his thighs, and they pooled right on top of his slacks. His cock sprung up from the force—already more than half hard and aching. His eyes can’t seem to stare at anything else but you. You looked so eager—so excited—to have his dick right in front of your face. It made his stomach flip. 
Your hand curls around the base, and he sucks in a breath. Your fingers just barely wrapped around the entirety of his length. Your manicured nails dug slightly into the large vein on the side—it made him choke on his own spit. 
“So fuckin’ big, Carmy.” You whined. You started to pump, it was a small motion, but it still made him moan. It sounded so desperate, making your ears ring. You couldn’t wait any longer, mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum already sprouting from his tip. 
You kissed the tip of his cock, and he shivered. “F-Fuck, baby—” He moans. He could feel his whole body throbbing—aching at the way you made him feel. 
You swirl your tongue around the ruddy tip and continue to tease him, wrapping your lips around the sensitive area. His hand immediately goes to the back of your head, unable to help himself. “Oh, fuck, holy shit—your fucking mouth, shit—”
His knees wobbled, the other hand steadying himself on the kitchen counter. “Y’taste so good, Carmy.” Your words were slurred with lust, making his own eyes dilate. His heart palpitated at you loving this—the insecurities from earlier disappearing like water down a drain. 
You start to take him even further. Your lips slowly ease down his cock, and one of your hands, still wrapped around the shaft, gave a squeeze. He choked on nothing and watched how you hollow your cheeks. You’re only halfway, but he swears he is seeing stars. “Feels so good, baby—so fucking good.” He squeezes his hand. 
Pride blooms within you, as well as the praises from him making you clench around nothing. You wanted to start touching yourself, but the intense desperation to keep a hand on his cock was greater. You choked a little as his hips unconsciously gave a small thrust. It made him let out a loud moan. 
He’s not sure where the confidence came from, but it’s spewing out of his mouth before he can stop it. “Fucking—shit—can you take all of it, sweet girl? Hmm?” 
He licks his lips. “Can you t-take my whole cock in your mouth?” He lets out a huff of air as you moan around his cock. “Be–be my good girl, yeah?”
The only confirmation you can give is the way your eyes gloss over. Tears threaten to poke out from your eyes, and the sight makes Carmen let out a curse. You slowly, yet again, take more of him in your mouth. 
“F-fuck,” he drags out. “Good girl—good fuckin’ girl. That’s it.” His knees wobble again, but he stays steady. Pure bliss sprouts in his stomach as he can feel the hot, searing pleasure from your wet mouth. 
You were able to fully take him—nose brushing up against the hair on his pubic bone. He groans and whimpers at the sight of you breathing deeply with his cock shoved down your throat. “Shit–shit–fuck, baby. That’s my pretty girl. Look–look at you choking on my cock. Holy shit—” He whined out. 
Warmth spreads through your chest at the adoration and lust that flows through his eyes. He can’t stop staring at the way you are just barely able to take him whole. His eyes widened even more as he watched you shove your hand down your shorts. 
“Oh, baby—” he says in a coo. “Look so good like that, huh? Fuckin’ touching yourself.” You could feel the way his cock twitches in his mouth. God, where was this coming from? He thought. Something about how your eyes sprung with more tears and you desperately humping your hand for some release was making him insane. 
He thrusts in and out of you, fucking up into your throat. You gagged around the girth of his cock and garbled out a cry. He moaned and whined at the feeling of your throat constricting against his cock and listened to the wet sounds of it all.
“Gonna–gonna cum, baby.” He swore that he saw your eyes sparkle—as if you wanted it all down your throat. He could feel that familiar swirl of an organism puncturing his chest. He panted as he watched the way his cock disappeared into your throat—it was a fucking sight. 
His eyes suddenly turn nervous. “Can-can I cum down your throat? Please?” He sees the way you nod with your mouth full, but he sees it. He sees the raw want and needs that fills your eyes. Yeah, you wanted his cum. You needed his cum. 
“Shitshitshit—” He stammers, thrusting into you two, three times. He groans out, low and guttural, as his seed spills into the back of your throat. He moans out your name in between shaken breaths from the ropes flowing through your mouth—salty and sour. He continues to pump into you, and you swallow every single drop—the added friction of your throat making him whimper. 
His hips still, but his cock stays inside of your mouth, twitching in pleasure. You hum around the base and watch as his body almost writhes. He looks down at you with the most content and relaxed smile you had seen.
You slowly pulled your mouth off of him; the pop noise was small. You started to press sweet kisses to his thighs, his hand going back to rest on your head. “Feel good, bear?”
His eyes were shining. “Felt so good, baby. Y’did so well.” Now his words were slurred with lust. He just couldn’t help but let his whole world revolve around you for a moment. 
You gently put on his boxers and do the same to his chef slacks. He offers you his hand, and he helps you pull yourself up. You wince at the sting in your knees, but in a way, it felt good. 
He immediately takes you into an embrace, not uttering a word. You gladly let him and rest your arms over his shoulder. He grabs your waist tightly and lets his head fall on your shoulder. He breathes in deeply, letting the scent that he knows so well flow into his nose.
He was completely and utterly relaxed—it was a sensation he didn’t feel all that often. You press a gentle kiss to his hair and then to his temple. The two of you just stood like that for some time, saying nothing and enjoying one’s company. 
Both of your attention to each other had ceased as the pot that was on the stove had boiled over. A lot of the soup had crashed onto the burning stove. "Fuck!"
Carmen immediately turned the stove off and let out a relieved sigh that nothing had burned. It would just be a bitch to clean up. You hand him a clean washcloth with a slightly guilty look on your face. He took the cloth from you with an annoyed (it was minorly annoyed) glare before wiping down the area.
"I'm not gonna lie to you, Carm." You say, watching his arms flex. "I don't regret a thing."
He rolled his eyes but chuckled under his breath. "Yeah, yeah. Fuck you." The cursing was lighthearted because he knew it too. He didn't regret anything either. In fact, he encouraged something like this again, maybe just without being in the middle of cooking.
He tried the soup again with the dirty spoon—he had a suspicion that it was going to be thrown out anyway. "Shit—Fuck—it's overcooked."
You laughed, one hand resting on your chest. He glared again. "Hey, you can't—seriously, we burned the soup. It's shit."
He still might not admit it, but you could see the way his eyes were still glossed over from the earth-shattering orgasm. He could even feel his cock jump from the way that he watched you bite your lip.
You pressed a finger onto his chin, thumb resting on his jaw. "It'll be okay, Carm." You squeezed his jaw. "You can make some more tomorrow. I’ll help."
Finally, he smiled. Yeah, tomorrow, he thought. His eyes still looked glossy, and his loopy smile was bright. "Let's clean up and go home.”
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jennapancake · 6 months ago
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Hi!!! Can I request Umemiya Hajime x girlfriend reader who has an amazing cooking skill? He gives her the vegetables he grew for her to cook and eat together at the rooftop.
The Dreamcatcher (Umemiya x Reader)
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A/n: This is such a cute request! Thank you for being my first request ever and I hope this is to your liking! I tried my best but I'm still getting the hang of this whole writing thing. Anyways I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Like one mention of blood from a split lip, fighting, kissing, pet names, couple behavior, slightly spell checked, and two curse words I believe.
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Ever since you were little, all you ever wanted to do was cook but being declared a troubled kid by all around you only made that dream harder and harder to reach. That was until you met him...Hajime Umemiya.
You met Hajime at the age of fourteen when a group of boys tried to jump you in a tunnel that led under a railway. You had bumped into one of the boys (or more he had bumped into you) and the boy seemingly wasn't going to accept being run into without some kind of punishment.
So obviously you began fighting the boy. What else would a “troubled” kid do? However once you quickly defeated the first boy the rest of his friends jumped in. Although you were quite strong you were severely outnumbered and just when you thought your stamina had deteriorated completely, the last couple of boys were taken down in just one swift crescent kick.
Quickly looking at your savoir you saw a boy about your age with a kind smile on his face as he looked at you. “Hi, are you okay? That was quite the group.” The boy asked, a slight tilt to his head.
“I'm fine.” You responded, wiping the blood from your split lip. “Thank you…for the help.” You said only causing the smile on the boy's face to grow.
“Well of course, although I'm sure you could have handled them yourself. You did beat up most of them before I got here. You're quite strong.” The boy said, causing your cheeks to heat up, from the compliment. However, before you could respond the boy was putting his hand out towards you to shake “Hajime Umemiya” He introduced himself with a kind smile. You stood there frozen at the introduction, it had been so long since someone your age was so kind to you. As you stood frozen the boy moved his hand closer to you as if encouraging you to shake his hand instead of standing there in that dumbfounded position like you were. So, finally moving you shook his hand back “Y/n y/l/n” you said, smiling back at the boy.
And that was how you met Hajime, the boy you now call your best friend and your boyfriend. Ever since that day the two of you have been close. You followed him to Bofurin and you helped him achieve his dream, just as he helped you achieve yours.
Now as you were chopping onions for some soup you were making for dinner, you couldn't help but smile as two hands wrapped around your waist.
“Hi, Honey” You said, continuing to chop the onions, a small hello mumbled into your shoulder as your boyfriend left a kiss on the bare skin uncovered by your tank top. “How was the garden?” You asked, finally throwing the onions into the pot and then turning around in the man's arms to face him.
“It was good” He smiled down at you, “I brought you some tomatoes and the rest of the onions you asked for” He said, gesturing to the basket of vegetables he had set on the island behind him.
“Thank you” You smiled brightly at the man, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips that only made the man's smile double in size at how happy the simplest things made you. He didn't mind tending the garden, he made it specifically for you, really it was fun and quickly beginning to be one of his favorite parts of the day, besides of course all his moments with the love of his life. But he wouldn't mind tending a seventy acre farm if it meant seeing you smile at him like this for the rest of his days.
“Now as much as I love cuddling you, go sit down or make yourself useful. I can have you distracting me from the soup.” You said, a faux seriousness on your face as you pointed your finger at the tall man.
“Well then I guess I'll have to make myself useful, darling.” He said, a cheeky grin donning his features “Well then you're on tomato chopping duty.” You ordered, pointing your finger at the cutting board. “Yes ma'am” Your boyfriend smirked, quickly pulling you in for one more kiss before getting started on those tomatoes.
The two of you cooked dinner together that night just as you often did, small smiles adorning both of your faces as you glanced at one another and held conversations about your days as well as a small joking argument of what show the two of you would watch after dinner. Umemiya of course giving in to your choice of show because he would do anything for you.
Once dinner was complete, Hajime carried your two bowls of soup up to the rooftop while you carried the salad you insisted on making as well as your drinks so you could bask in whatever warmth was left from the setting sun. The calm breeze rustling the plants aligning the rooftop just adding to the serenity of the moment. Just being here with Hajime after all the work the two of you put in to reach this moment was so overwhelmingly beautiful and you were more than grateful for whatever being granted you this life.
"You're staring, Honey." The teasing voice of your boyfriend broke your daze. "Hm, sorry" You smiled sheepishly, taking a spoonful of your soup as you tried to playoff you sappy moment. "What were you thinking about?" He asked, leaning on the tops of his hands as he looked at you, a curious glint in those stunning blue eyes. "Just how happy I am to be here with you" you said, a blush creeping up your cheeks at your confession. Your boyfriend grinned happily at those words and reached his hand across the table to hold yours. "I'm happy to be here with you too, honey." He smiled softly at you and with that you continued your dinner with a blissful happiness.
"Although I might be even happier to be here with this soup, damn this is good. Who taught you to cook like this cause damn girl, might have to wife you up." And with that your boyfriend broke that serenity with of course nothing but his ridiculous comedy but that only made the moment that more special with the giggles he made spew from your mouth.
You wouldn't trade this life with him for anything in the world, he was the love of your life, the man who helped you achieve your dream you once thought was impossible. He was your dream catcher.
You were finally able to accomplish what you always wanted to do because Hajime made it a reality just for you. All because you told Hajime in a small conversation when you were fourteen about how you always wanted to cook and he had told you in return he’d grow the vegetables just so you'd never run out and can always cook to your heart's content. And after seeing that bright smile consume your features he swore to himself once he reached the top he wouldn't stop until he helped you achieve your dream just as you helped him achieve his.
And now he wouldn't trade you or that soup for anything in the world. You helped him achieve his own dreams and him helping you achieve yours was only a small repayment of his appreciation and admiration for you. You were his dream catcher.
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darkbluekies · 2 years ago
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Can I request a one shot with Silas and a sick reader? Like reader has a high fever.
I'll take care of you
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Mafia!yandere OC x sick!reader
Summary: Silas gets to know that you're not feeling well and drops everything to take care of you.
Warnings: threats, yandere, jealousy
Word count: 1.9k
You haven't moved an inch today. When you woke up this morning you were all alone in your and Silas shared bed. Silas had already started his work day. You wish that he would have stayed with you today. Something doesn't feel right. Why does your head hurt so badly? Why are you freezing? And why are you sweating at the same time?
No one visits you until lunch time. One of Silas’s men has come in to give you your food.
"Here you go", he says and places the bowl of pasta on the bedside table. "Y/N? Your food is here. You know how angry the boss will be if you don't eat."
He frowns when he doesn't get a reaction. The man knows that he shouldn't touch you, but you're not listening! Gulping, he pokes your shoulder. You whine painfully, tiredly.
"Your food", the man repeats, "Sit up so you can eat."
"Not hungry …", you mumble with your back towards him.
"But you have to eat. If the boss asks me and I'm lying, he'll kill me."
"I'll eat it soon …"
"Y/N, you don't sound well, are you okay?"
"No …"
The man reaches over you and feels your forehead.
"You're really warm", the man gasps. "I have to call the boss." He fishes up his phone and holds it to his ear. "Hey, boss, I know you're busy but I think your darling is unwell."
"Why?" Silas asks stiffly from the other side.
"They weren't responding when I was coming in with food and they're really warm. I think they're sick."
"I'll be there in twenty minutes."
"Should I try to feed them?"
"You don't touch my darling at all, you hear me?"
"Y-Yes, boss."
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Silas throws the door open twenty minutes later. He gasps slightly at the sight of you curled up in the bed and runs over.
"Baby", he cooes and cups your warm cheeks. "How are you feeling? Gosh, you don't look well …"
"I'm cold", you mumble and pull the sheets closer to you.
"But you're burning up."
"My body hurts."
Silas picks you up into his lap. He looks at the man in the room.
"Tell my second in command that he'll have to deal with things until further notice. I'll be here."
"Okay, boss."
"And make sure to order medicine and everything my baby could need, got it?"
"Yes, boss. I'll get going."
As soon as the door closes, Silas places you back in the bed, your back getting to rest against the pillows. He picks up the bowl of pasta.
"Open up that little mouth of yours now", he says and holds the fork to your lips.
You whine and move your head to the side. He wants to chuckle at the cute sight of you, but worry is eating him up from the inside. 
"Don't want any", you mumble.
"But you have to eat", Silas insists.
"It's cold. I don’t like cold food …"
"Too bad."
He holds the fork to your lips again, poking your mouth with the metal. You give him a glare before opening your mouth ever so slightly. Silas shoves in the fork until it reaches the back of your throat. You chew slowly, not having the energy to do it. All you want is to go back to sleep.
"Can't you just give me the water?" you ask. "I don't want to chew."
Silas holds the glass of water to your lips and watches how you gulp it down.
"I want tomato soup", you say. “Smooth one. I don’t have the energy to chew.”
"Alright", Silas says and picks up his phone. "Just tell me everything you want and I'll write it down and I’ll send it. Someone will buy it for you."
You give him your needs and he writes them all down one by one. He leaves the room and returns with more blankets and pillows. And a thermometer. 
"I'm going to take your temperature", Silas says, turning it on. "Turn your head to the side."
And you do. He puts the tip of the thermometer into your ear and when it beeps, he removes it to take a look.
"39.2", he says disappointedly, shaking his head. "The other ear? 38.9 … seems like you'll need a lot of rest then, little thing."
You're not comfortable with Silas and would rather have him a hundred meters away, but you don't want to repeat this morning. You need someone close to you and Silas is the only one that you can be with … unless you want Silas to kill someone.
"Don't leave me, please", you whisper and cough. "Waking up all alone while feeling like this was horrible. It feels like I’m going to die."
Silas smiles sadly and pets your hair. "Of course not, pretty thing. If I had known that you weren't well, I'd have stayed with you from the morning hours. I feel so bad for letting you suffer for so long all by yourself. But from now on I’ll stay with you every single second."
You start to cough and he's quick to rub your shoulder.
"Everything hurts", you whine. "Why does everything hurt?"
"Because you're sick, baby”, Silas smiles softly. “My men will be back with medicine and sweets. They'll make you feel much better."
He melts when you hold out your arms to him. Without a second thought, he brings you back into his arms and starts to shower your face in soft kisses. You whine and try to turn your head away, but he doesn’t let you. 
"My pretty baby", he whispers between his attacking pecks. "I'll take care of you so well."
“If you continue you’ll get sick too”, you warn him.
The man smirks and kisses your lips. Your eyes widen in shock. Silas chuckles and kisses your lips again. He changes into a pair of gray sweatpants and a black hoodie before crawling down under the sheets with you. He holds you close to him with a smile on his face. Silas won't admit it, but seeing you like this secretly makes him happy. You're so dependent on him now. He pecks the top of your head every now and then to reassure your sleeping self that you have nothing to worry about. Silas will do everything for you. All you need to do is to lean on him.
A small knock on the door catches his attention. Silas manages to pry you off of him and sneak over to the door. He holds his index finger over his lips as he opens it, revealing a man. 
“Hey, boss, I got you what you wanted”, the man says and holds up the plastic bag. 
“Good”, Silas says and takes it from him. He freezes as soon as he picks up a can of tomato soup, grip growing harder. “What the fuck is this?”
The man seems to immediately know that something’s wrong. He looks down into the floor. 
“T-Tomato soup”, he answers quietly.
“Yeah … and …?” Silas hisses to make sure you won’t wake up.
“I-I don’t understand, boss.”
“It has fucking tomato bites in it. Didn’t I write to you that you were supposed to buy smooth? My darling does not have the energy to chew! How fucking incompetent can you be?!”
The man is about to apologize, but Silas grabs him and forces him inside the room. 
“You’re going to apologize to Y/N”, he growls. “You’re going to tell them your mistake in front of them or I’ll break your fucking knees, do you hear me?”
The man nods quickly. Silas walks over to the bed and shakes you as gently as he’s able to in this angered state. 
“Baby, I’m sorry to wake you up”, Silas says and forces the man down on his knees. “Don’t blame me though, it’s all this motherfucker’s fault. Tell them what you did.”
You sit up in bed, suddenly terrified. Your head is pounding and you feel like you’re going to explode. What is going on? Who is this man? Why does Sila look so angry? Why did he wake you up?
“Tell them!” Silas repeats, hitting the man in the back of his head. 
“I-I bought you the wrong tomato soup!” the man stutters. 
Silas grabs his hair and forces him to lift up his head and look at you. You feel your heart clench. That poor man, what is Silas doing?
“It’s okay!” you say quickly, wishing that Silas could stop acting like this. “I-I don’t mind-”
“Which one did you buy?” Silas asks the man. 
“T-The one with tomato bites in it!” the man stutters in pain. 
“And I told you not to buy that, so why did you buy it?”
“I-I don’t know!”
“Silas, please stop!” you beg. “I forgive him, I’ll eat the soup, it’s nothing to worry about, I promise!”
You can’t deal with these kinds of things when you’re feeling like shit. Silas scoffs and lets the man go, growling at him to leave the room. The man hurries up on his legs and runs out, closing the door behind him. You glare at Silas as he picks up the plastic bag and walks over to you. 
“You’re horrible”, you whisper. “It was an honest mistake-”
“I’m sorry, baby”, Silas says and hugs you tightly, all anger gone by now. “I’m just particularly strict when it comes to you. You wanted smooth tomato soup. It was the least that man could give you when you’re feeling like this. You only deserve the best, okay? I love you so much, I lose my mind when you’re around.”
“I can tell …”
Silas kisses your lips and starts to look through the plastic bag. He holds up a chocolate bar. 
“Do you want this?” he asks. 
You nod. He breaks off a square and gives it to you before taking one himself. 
“Now, let's lay down again”, Silas says. “I’ll put on a movie you can doze off to.”
Silas lets you lay on his chest. He wipes your nose with napkins when he thinks that you need it and smooshes you in kisses. 
The door soon opens and the man who gave you food comes in. 
“Here’s the medicine, boss”, he says and gives Silas a small container. “Get well soon, Y/N.”
Silas scoffs and brings you closer as the door closes.
“You don’t need to get jealous”, you mutter. 
“I’m not jealous”, Silas answers. “I’m just protective.”
He takes off the white lid and fills it with the yellow liquid. 
“Here, swallow”, he says and holds it to your mouth, sighing when you don’t comply. “I don’t care if you think it’s gross, you’re not a little kid, Y/N. Take your medicine.”
You open your mouth, grimacing as you swallow the medicine. Coughing to get the taste gone results in a cough attack. Silas presses a piece of chocolate into your mouth. 
“Good girl/boy”, he praises and kisses your forehead. “You did so well, best little baby. Now let’s sleep. You need to rest. Hopefully, you’ll feel better tomorrow.”
He turns off the light and lays down. You curl up into a ball in his arms. His embrace is so warm and strong. Oh, how you hate how it makes you feel secure. Silas secretly hopes that he’ll get sick too so he can be with you for even longer. If you’re sick, he wants to be sick! He gives your forehead one last kiss before drifting off to dreamland. 
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magicalrocketships · 11 months ago
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please please please some baby max 🙏
Have a little (sort of) seasonally appropriate baby Max! It's jumping a little out of order.
To recap where we are: Daniel turned down a seat this year, Max is still running away when he's back to being grown up, and Daniel isn't dealing very well with the whole missing-Max-both-as-an-adult-and-a-child kind of a thing. This is just an excuse for writing a specific moment.
(this link shows the stuff I’ve already posted in chronological order if the tag isn't working.)
Daniel's woken by his phone after a fairly useless single hour's sleep. He considers, for a second, ignoring it. But it's Christian, so he doesn't. 
"Max has Gone Small," Christian says without bothering with anything nice like hello or how was your 18 hour flight the week between Christmas and New Year or how are you coping without a race seat for next year for the second year in a row. "How soon can you get here?"
Daniel presses his face into the hotel room pillow. "Where are you?" 
"HQ," Christian says. "Tell me your hotel and I'll send a car to pick you up."
Daniel can't remember where he's staying. 'London' probably isn't good enough. He fumbles for the room service menu on the desk, and reads out the hotel name. 
"I'll call you back with an ETA," Christian says. He's not been as nice to Daniel after Daniel turned down both Max's temporary seat cover and the AT seat for next year. He doesn't understand. "Max wants you." 
"Yeah," Daniel says. He stands, barefoot and just in his underwear, and looks at himself in the mirror. He's hollow eyed from lack of sleep. And, probably, a selection of prolonged bad choices. His heart pounds. "Tell Max I'm coming for him, okay? See if you can get him some tomato soup in a cup and something to colour. He likes both those things."
"On it," Christian says, and hangs up. 
Daniel — exhausted, underweight, jet lagged — gets in the shower with his phone ringer turned up high and the water temperature turned down low. He emerges, shivering, more awake and vaguely cleaner but not much else. He packs his stuff back into his suitcase, unplugs his charger, and checks for a message. There's a car on its way. Daniel gathers up his stuff, wheels his case back towards the lift and checks out of his hotel. He's barely been there two hours. 
He doesn't sleep in the car up to Milton Keynes. His knee bounces, and he taps out a rhythm on his thigh with his fingertips. He hasn't seen grown up Max in weeks, and little Max for longer than that. 
Daniel hasn't been right since the first time Max got big and left him. There's a hole in the middle of his chest where his heart should be. He's tried to fill it with all the normal things but nothing's worked. He's just sad. It's hard work to hide it. It's harder when he's tired. They were going to see each other this week, with Daniel fulfilling some of his puppet PR duties at the Red Bull New Year's Eve party alongside Max, but that might not be on the table anymore because Max has Gone Small again. 
His little boy. He's going to see him again. God. 
If he gets there before Max goes big again. 
HQ is mostly deserted. There are barely any cars in the car park. Christian's waiting for him at the main entrance, along with an assistant, who Daniel barely says hello to as she promises to get all of Daniel's bags out of the car. 
"Max is very unhappy," Christian warns him, as they go inside and towards the stairs. "Turned up this morning and was only here an hour before we all blinked and then he's fucking seven again. Just wants you." 
Daniel speeds up. He doesn't even know where he's going, where Max is waiting for him. "Did he eat anything?"
"Refuses," Christian says. 
They go through a locked door Christian has to wave a pass at to get through. Somewhere, far away, Daniel can hear a familiar little voice, raised. Upset. 
"Maxy-Max," he calls, hand cupped around his mouth. There is, for a moment, abrupt silence. There's a flight of stairs. Daniel takes them two at a time, but he's not fast enough because Max fucking barrels his way out of a room at the top of them and barely manages to stop himself falling headlong over a large fern in a plant pot and toppling down the stairs. 
"Daniel!" Max says, tearful and upset. "Daniel, my Daniel." He launches himself at Daniel, and Daniel catches him in a hug. Daniel drops to his knees and Max hugs him all wriggly and tight and het up and crying. He's in grown up Max's t-shirt, way too big, and grown up Max's socks, falling off his feet and making him slip-slide all over the place. Someone, somehow, has got him into a pair of Go Small shorts, but the fabric is itchy even to Daniel's hand, so Max must be hating it. 
"Hello, baby," Daniel says, kissing Max's cheek, his ear. He thumbs away a tear from Max's pink, flushed cheek. Another one. "I've missed you so much." 
Max just holds on tighter. "Can we go home now," he whispers, but Daniel can't take him home. All the Guardianship papers are in Monaco. All their Red Bull responsibilities are here, and even if Max doesn't have to put food on the table, Daniel's career is on indefinite hiatus and the money he's making now will have to last him. And Max doesn't stay like this. He doesn't stay with Daniel. 
"Not just yet," Daniel tells him. He hugs Max tighter, lifting him off the ground. Max tucks his face into Daniel's neck, wrapping his arms all around Daniel's neck. He gets to his feet, Max wrapping his legs around Daniel's waist and staying as close as possible. "Are you hungry, Maxy-Max?"
Max nods, his nose dragging over Daniel's neck. He doesn't feel warm either, and Daniel wants to find something to get him changed in to and get him something to eat. 
"Let's get you—" he says, but then he has to close his eyes really tightly. 
Max wriggles, and shifts, and when Daniel opens his eyes again, the Max in his arms is his toddler Max, his baby Max, his best little boy. He's gone smaller. 
"Hey," Daniel says softly. "Hey, baby."
Max rears back in Daniel's arms. He's pink and tearstained and very serious. He pats both his hands to Daniel's cheeks. Holds Daniel still. 
Daniel waits. He can be patient where Max is concerned. Can let him have whatever time he needs to do whatever it is he needs to do.  
"Daddy," Max says, and— 
And. 
Daniel's world is different now. It will be forever different. A before, and an after. 
"Hey," Daniel says, in the end, and Max looks at him and beams. 
Carries on here.
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spectres-n-soap · 7 months ago
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A Soft Breeze - Ghost x Reader x Soap
Content Warnings - Therapy, pregnancy, afab!fem!reader, angst with comfort
Series Masterlist
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“Why do you lash out at others?” Dr. Miller asks. The session had been going relatively normal, he had started out with the usual base questions he did every time.
“How are you?”
“I’m doing my best.”
“How’s the pregnancy?”
“Healthy for the most part.”
And it felt he was coming out of left field with that question. It must have been obvious how much of a divergence from the norm it was because he tries to back track but you stop him.
“It's easy.” You admit. Admission feels like poison or acid, eating up at you now that you’ve spoken it to life. It was easy, it is easy, to lash out at those around you then to confront the source. You scream and yell, throw things and break down instead of admitting the truth that no one deserves your anger. No one deserves the grief that eats you up and that you refuse to acknowledge until now. “It’s easy to lash out at others then take a moment to reflect.”
“Do you feel bad afterwards?” He asks as he writes down something of note and you cringe a little. Just another thing to add to the ever growing list of things wrong with you. That’s what you’ve concluded that means, that whenever he writes something down after you say something, that it's another thing wrong with you. You won’t dare to ask him if it's true; he’ll probably lie about it for propriety.
“Yes.” You still beat yourself up over the baby shower and every time you’ve yelled at Simon. “I feel awful afterwards because I know they didn’t deserve it.”
“So why do you take it out on Simon specifically?” Dr. Miller asks and you stiffen. What a loaded question, you thought. “Just off the top of your head, why?”
“Because it feels like he’s trying to replace him.” You say, throat becoming tight at the thought, horrible and malicious. “And I know that he isn’t and that it's not right for me to think like that.” Dr. Miller takes notes, his hand moving quickly over the lined paper in front of him as you speak and it takes everything in you not to stop or call him out on it. “It should be Johnny here. Not him.”
“You know that Johnny is dead.”
“Yes I know he’s dead.” You snap, “I know he is, alright? But it doesn’t stop me from wishing he wasn’t.” You put your face into the palms of your hands and sigh. “I’m a terrible person.” You whisper.
“No, you’re just a person.” Dr. Miller says, “There is no such thing as a good or bad person, just people who do good and bad things. Sometimes more of one than the other.” He sets down his clipboard and leans forward, “It's good that you are able to find what the reason is, now we just have to work on finding ways of expressing those feelings without hurting those around us.” You nod slowly.
Simon is waiting for you in the parking lot, a surprise for you. “Hey, I was thinking we could eat out tonight, to celebrate another therapy session.” You scrunch your face up and before you can retort anything he says, “Just accept the free food.” You truly cannot debate with that logic or offer and you get into the vehicle with him.
It’s not a fancy restaurant but to be honest, you might’ve tried to strangle him if he had. Just a simple sandwich place, the food is good and the restaurant surprisingly serves other things than just sandwiches and drinks. You opt for an italian sandwich and some tomato bisque on the side with crackers. 
The silence between the two of you is natural, especially as you eat and therefore become unable to speak without being rude. The restaurant isn’t bustling with tons of other people, in fact it's rather quiet for the time of day. You think it's because of the fact it's Wednesday. “I’m sorry.” You say after finishing your soup.
“What’re you apologizin’ for?” He asks and your cheeks warm.
“I’m sorry for being awful to you all the time.” You say, “It's not okay for me to treat you like that and I don’t know why you stuck around after everything.”
“Because you’re Johnny’s bird.” He says, “I’m doing right by him, I’m making sure the person he cared for and the baby he never knew existed are safe.” He states and you shake your head.
“I don’t get it.” You mutter and he chuckles softly, the sound warms your belly more than the soup did.
“You don’t have to.”
You get a call from Mrs. MacTavish the next day, “I was thinking about what you said the other day, about not feeling prepared for motherhood and I did some looking.” You vaguely hear some mouse clicking and she starts again, “I’m gonna send you some links to places holding parenting classes.” You glance at your phone and see the links copy and pasted into the text chat. “You should attend them, I think they would be very useful. Have a good rest of your day dear.” You say your goodbyes and tap on one of the links.
Just as Mrs. MacTavish said, it is for a place holding parenting classes throughout the week, you look at the next available one and feel your heart rate pick up. Two days from now, it will be held at a nearby library in the afternoon. Simon glances over your shoulder and asks, “Thinking about going?”
“It would be smart for me to go.”
“But do you want to?” He asks as he sets down his dirty mug into the sink to wash later. He leans against the counter and you shrug.
“Wouldn’t hurt to go, just to see if I like it.” Your thumb hovers over the register link before you finally tap it and send in your information. Putting down just how far along you are in your pregnancy feels surreal. Seven months along and nearly at your eighth. How did the time pass by so quickly? 
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hearted-anon · 10 days ago
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Clingy bread, happy ferret
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Words: 1, 126 Note: I loved writing this the silly friendship Requested by: @hetashi-takashimaya T/w: None, soft all the way Taglist: @reginald-stay09 @itzsana-kiddingmenow @hetashi-takashimaya-apollos-kid @soap143 @jungwon-is-the-one Lee: Jeongin Ler: Hyunjin
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At first, when Minho, Chan and Changbin had left their respective dorms together for a night out shopping, the rest didn’t think much of it, or rather even jumped at the opportunity to spend more time with each other without the courtesy of nagging elders around to tell them to put their shoes outside before coming it. Well mostly except Seungmin and Felix’s dorm, which were left full and cosy together, or Hyunjin and Changbin’s dorm, where the oddly swapped roles made the dancer feel like he just lost a child at home. But no one even questioned where they went, the trio had just left like nothing was wrong and no one was suspicious at all, weird.
Originally thinking he was going to be cooped up at home all day without his dear ‘wife’ to entertain him, he was shocked to hear a knock at his front door, knowing that Jisung was probably crashing at Felix and Seungmin’s place again for the millionth time for who knows what, it only meant that Jeongin could be at his front door. But Jeongin loved to be alone, what was the reason for his visit this time? Nonetheless, the ferret was excited to have some company anyway, having just about called Changbin for the tenth time with no respond to his dismay.
“Innie? What brings you over?” Hyunjin asks curiously, eyes widening when he saw the younger in what looked to be pyjamas, an eye cover loosely hanging over his unbrushed hair and a large pillow in hand. The vocalist didn’t respond to his question, only barging himself in and making himself at home with a whine, the smell of pre-made tomato soup making his nose scrunch and stomach growl. There was no way he just woke up, Hyunjin pondered, but with no adult supervision who wouldn’t want to just sleep the day away?
“Alright alright, lay on the couch, I’ll make you something to eat,” Hyunjin assured, leading the fox to the couch. Feeling the soft fabric against his waist, Jeongin didn’t hesitate to fall into the plush feeling instantly, holding his dear pillow close to him. Chuckling at the sight under his breath, he wrapped the eye cover back onto the younger, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead before rummaging through their kitchen; they had to have some sandwiches made somewhere. Finally emerging victorious with a handmade tuna sandwich that he had made in case of emergency hunger, he unwrapped it slowly, sniffing it to ensure it wasn’t spoilt yet.
As he tried to find some orange juice to get some nutrients into the vocalist, he screamed when arms wrapped around his waist timidly, seeing a brown mushroom of hair snuggling into his back. Jeongin looked up at him almost pleadingly, like a puppy that was begging for affection. And who was Hyunjin not to give that to him? Shaking his head fondly, he brought the maknae into his chest, scratching his scalp lovingly while the other hand worked hard not to spill any orange juice into the glass cup that was threatening to spill over.
“More..I miss Channie Hyung..more attention..” Jeongin finally speaks up, voice hoarse from the lack of noise having slept for so long. Hyunjin stares down at him with hearts in his eyes practically, he couldn’t believe the Yang Jeongin was asking him for attention. Forget the food, Hyunjin slowly lifts up the vocalist as if he’s made of glass, cuddling him closely on the couch before placing a few kisses on top of his head. His heart was practically going to explode, taking at least 10 pictures to flex on the other members later on when he’s available.
“Missing Hyung huh? Well I’ll be here to keep you company Kay? Want anything? Just a few little tickles?” Hyunjin manages to slip the question in discreetly, how could he even hold back that urge to just wiggle his fingers on the fox’s sides when his cheek is squished against his chest, fingers wrapped around his waist snugly and seeking for more warmth. It was as if he wanted to tempt Hyunjin.
“Mmh..please..mhehe!” The younger squeaks when he feels fingers softly spidering up and down his sides, pulling the most innocent giggles that made Hyunjin want to knock himself over and faint. He looked too adorable, nose all scrunched up and curling up to no avail, it was too much for his heart.
“Ehehe! It- It tickles!” Jeongin squeals, but makes no attempt to even remotely move the fingers anywhere, going so far as to curl in closer to the ferret, making him coo in endearment. Maybe he should do this to Changbin, would he look just as cute as this?
“Silly thing, it’s supposed to tickle.” Hyunjin replies with a smile so wide he could’ve split entire worlds with it, it was quite rare to see the maknae in a clingy mood like this, almost as if this was some alternate universe and the roles were swapped between them for once.
“Aha! Nohot my tummy!” The elder could’ve sworn an arrow pierced his heart and put it back together in milliseconds when his fingers scribbled over Jeongin’s stomach gently, seeing how he flopped backwards onto the couch like a little puppy. He tried his best to push away the artist’s hands, but it only felt like a dog pawing at him, and was it cute? Yes. Did he love it? Yes.
“Yes your tummy. All the little tummy tickles is what you want eh?” Hyunjin coos, and it’s only when he hears the faint rumbling of the younger’s stomach along with a tiny vibration that hinted him to stop, seeing his rosy little cheeks and a wide dimpled smile late in the afternoon was killing him and his cheeks, getting up from the couch to get the vocalist’s food.
“Thank you Hyung..” Jeongin sheepishly thanks when he sees the food and drink on the table, taking small sips and nibbles here and there. Despite thinking his cuddly mood was all over when there were only crumbs and drops of his meal left on their coffee table, the fox came crawling back almost immediately, making a little nest on his lap before snoring away once more. He was going to die here soon if Chan didn’t pick him up soon, deciding a nap would be the best course of action not to die from a heart attack of cuteness anytime soon.
The squeals of awe when Chan and Changbin came back to the sight of the duo snuggled up on the couch together was loud enough to wake them up, a sleepy Jeongin practically crushing Chan’s arm while Hyunjin basically tore Changbin’s ears off with nagging yet again for being home late.
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sweetcalavera · 13 days ago
Text
Como La Flor
After another uneventful night of chasing petty thieves and breaking up scuffles, Jason slips into the familiar embrace of the Jukebox Diner. The bells above the door jingle softly.
The diner hums with the faint buzz of fluorescent lights, casting a muted glow over the checkered floor. The air smells of grease and coffee, and somewhere in the background, the jukebox plays a slow, melancholic tune—soft enough to be comforting but too distant to make out the words. Jason leans back in his usual booth, the red vinyl cool against his back, eyes scanning the empty space. It's oddly quiet tonight. For a fleeting moment, he wonders if they’re closed, but the thought vanishes when he spots him.
Xōchi sits at a corner booth, one leg tucked beneath him, utterly absorbed in his laptop. His fingers dance across the keys with a steady rhythm, pausing only when he snags a fry and swirls it lazily in his root beer float. A flicker of something unfamiliar pulls at Jason—not annoyance exactly, but something close enough that it makes his jaw clench.
He clears his throat, breaking the silence.
“Didn’t know this place took online orders,” Jason mutters, voice low and sharp.
Xōchi's head jerks up, eyes widening as if caught doing something he shouldn’t. The laptop clicks shut with a hurried snap, and in a heartbeat, he’s sliding out of the booth, smoothing down his apron with an apologetic grin.
“Sorry for the wait, sir,” Xōchi says, slipping into his customer-service tone with unsettling ease. “What can I get you?”
Jason arches an eyebrow, a hint of irritation tugging at the corner of his mouth. “With service like that, you can forget about a tip.”
Xōchi’s smile falters for the briefest moment, but it returns—bright and unfazed. “Apologies. I’ll make sure you get a discount for the inconvenience,” he offers smoothly, as if practiced in deflecting grumpy customers.
Jason huffs, scanning the menu as if he doesn’t already know what he wants. “Grilled cheese. Tomato soup. Onion rings. And water.” His voice is clipped, efficient, like a soldier rattling off orders.
“Coming right up.” Xōchi gives a quick nod before retreating to the kitchen.
Jason watches him go, arms folded across his chest. Something about the guy bugs him—not in a bad way exactly, but in a way that keeps Jason coming back to this place when he could be eating anywhere else.
Soon, Xōchi returns, balancing the tray like a pro. The steaming tomato soup smells rich and savory, the grilled cheese perfectly golden with melted edges spilling out from between the slices. Jason eyes the onion rings—hot, crispy, and just greasy enough to hit the spot.
“Anything else I can do for you?” Xōchi asks, smile still in place, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in his gaze, like he’s wondering why Jason keeps coming back.
Jason shakes his head, already dipping a ring into the soup. Xōchi, satisfied, drifts back to his booth, cracking his laptop open again. The sound of keystrokes resumes, steady and purposeful.
Jason eats in silence for a few minutes, but curiosity nags at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t ignore. He catches himself glancing over at Xōchi between bites, watching him work with focused intensity. Finally, the words slip out before he can stop them.
“What are you doing?”
Xōchi’s hands freeze over the keyboard. He blinks, startled that Jason initiated a conversation. “Uh... writing a paper,” he answers, a bit cautiously, like he’s not sure if Jason’s genuinely interested or just trying to start trouble.
Jason leans back, chewing slowly. “Didn’t know you were in college. Let me guess—hospitality or something?” There’s a teasing edge to his voice, but it’s subtle, buried beneath layers of sarcasm.
For the first time, Xōchi looks genuinely embarrassed. A flush rises along his cheekbones, and he shifts uncomfortably under Jason’s gaze.
“Actually... I’m not in college,” Xōchi admits, his voice quieter now. “I’m taking night classes for my GED.”
Jason pauses mid-chew, something in Xōchi’s tone catching him off guard. It’s not just embarrassment—it’s pride, shame, and a hint of determination all tangled together. Jason knows that mix too well. It’s the same knot of emotions he’s carried for years.
He swallows and sets his sandwich down, feeling the weight of the conversation shift between them. There’s a beat of silence, heavy and unspoken.
“GED, huh?” Jason finally says, keeping his voice neutral. “Good for you.”
Xōchi glances at him, surprised by the lack of judgment. “Thanks.”
Jason nods, breaking eye contact to focus on his soup. He doesn’t offer more—doesn’t know how to, really—but something about the exchange leaves the air between them lighter, less strained.
For a while, the two of them exist in comfortable silence—one man eating, the other typing away, both finding a strange kind of solace in the presence of someone who doesn’t pry too deeply.
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Note
we had a chef MC headcanon, now how about M6 when MC made them a meal but it tasted just downright horrible and MC is just kinda oblivious to it, asking M6 with the brightest, most innocent smile "Do you like it?"
i hope you have fun writing this if you do choose this humble request
- 🌼
The Arcana HCs: When MC is a terrible chef
~ this reminds me of the time when teenaged me combined old rice, hot dog chunks, cold broccoli, and buffalo sauce (in one bowl!) for a late-night snack. thank you for the giggles this gave me, yellow flower friend, let's hope I pay them forward! - brainrot ~
-- to set the scene --
Somehow it's been one of those weeks when everything in your food supply begins to reach its end or expiration date at the same time. You know your regular grocery shopping is tomorrow, and you have an extensive list prepared, but dinner is up to you tonight and you don't have anything comprehensive planned. It looks like it's time for your famous "everything but the kitchen sink" stew. You've only made this in the past when it was just you in the shop and you were still figuring out how to cook, but you remember it being fairly edible.
(Continued below the cut)
You get some beans boiling (there hasn't been time to soak them), add a cup or two of vinegar to soften them faster, dice the not-molded parts of a tomato and onion you found at the bottom of a sack, and rinse the slime off of some wilted greens before throwing them in. You're craving something spicy, so you dump in the rest of your chili sauce, but when the steam makes you tear up you scrape out the rest of the mayonnaise to even it out. It was starting to smell funky anyways. Your hand slips when you add the salt, so you pour in some honey to counteract it, and in a final burst of inspiration, you plop in two bananas that have gotten too mushy to eat. The signature suspicious scum of your original dish is just floating to the top of your soup when your beloved returns, hungry from a day of work.
Julian
Too happy to see you to notice the poison on the stove at first
The words die in his throat when he does. Tell him it's a potion. Tell him it's a curse. Tell him it's a prank. Don't tell him, don't tell him it's ... it's dinner, isn't it?
He watches you happily ladle a generous scoop of your curdled concoction into his bowl and gulps. He loves you. He's got this. He will eat your food, he will tell you it's delicious, or he will die trying
He's starting to get caught up in the poetry of it as he sits down across from you. Like a lamb to the slaughter, accepting the sweet taste of death from his beloved's cruel hand - stew isn't supposed to be sweet, oh god why is it sweet
But for his darling's delight, he will overcome -
"Julian, is everything alright? You look like you're about to go on stage."
"Oh, is ah - is that what I look like, my dear?" He's pale and sweating at this point, poorly disguising the tremble in his hand as he brings his second glass of water to his lips
"It's my stew, isn't it?" you dolefully lift a gelatinous spoonful and watch it fall back into your bowl with a sickening squelch. "I remember it tasting weird, but not this weird ..."
"No, no!" His voice cracks against his will as he sees your sadness as proof of his failure. "It's delightful, delicious - worthy of the gods, even." You hear him mumble a prayer for forgiveness under his breath and drop your spoon
"I know when you're acting, Julian."
"Ah, so I - so I am. You know -" he stands abruptly, his chair falling behind him in his haste. "I just remembered that Pasha invited us for dinner tonight. Shall we?"
He's never been so happy to see you walk out his front door
Asra
They can smell it as soon as they walk into the shop and are immediately concerned. That is the smell of death. Why is the smell of death in your shop oh no - "MC? MC, where are you?"
"I'm upstairs!" Thank the patrons, you're okay
Then again, maybe you're not, considering how perfectly comfortable you seem standing over whatever monstrosity is releasing toxic vapors into the atmosphere. Is that ... soup?
Color him intrigued. He's doing his best to hide a laugh and find a way to ask what enabled you to create something so terrifying out of simple kitchen ingredients without insulting you
"So, is this recipe an MC original?"
"Yep!" You smile at him cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to the stomach-churning way that the chunks plop from the soup spoon into their bowl. "I always make this when we're running low."
"You've made this before?" They're starting to get concerned again
"Just a few times, when you were on a trip. Do you like it?"
He takes a bite, so intrigued by the way it seems to wriggle down his throat that he tries a second. "I've never had anything like it."
"What do you think of the mayonnaise? It smelled a little funky ..."
We have mayonnaise? They wonder, but on the outside they're still smiling. "It certainly adds to the experience. Is this ... banana?"
"Yeah, it seemed too mushy to eat on its own, so ..."
Asra sets down his miraculously empty bowl with a loving smile. "MC, you shouldn't have to do the cooking so often. Let me help out more often."
Nadia
She doesn't know how it's come to this. Nobody knows how it's come to this, when the Palace kitchen is kept fully stocked and there are chefs available at all hours
But you had said that you missed your home cooking, and she had given you full access to the backup kitchen to do as you pleased, and - ah, the only things kept in there are leftovers
That would explain the stench
Speaking of, her respect for your resilience has reached new heights. How you've been able to survive on your own is a mystery to her. Please tell her this isn't how you ate for three years -
But you seem as deathly serious as the radioactive sludge that's churning in her fine china like a lava lamp, and she realizes that this is going to be a labor of love. She must eat her fill and do so with elegance
You watch her bring the daintiest (read: tiniest) spoon of slime to her lips, pausing to test the aroma before setting her jaw and putting it in her mouth
Oh, look at that, she's already eaten her fill
"MC, my darling, what do you say to an evening walk? It seems I haven't the appetite to dine at this moment, how about a stroll around the palace gardens? The night is still young."
She's relieved at how easily you agree, deeply concerned by the fact that you've already finished half of your bowl, and eager to get you out of the palace so that the maids can make dinner disappear
She's going to lose sleep for the next three months about whether or not she should be honest about what happened to your soup
There's now a bald patch in the grass behind the kitchen that hasn't been able to grow anything in three years. There's a rumor that stepping on it will release a stench so foul that you won't be able to eat for twenty-four hours afterwards
Muriel
He's not too worried. He used to eat spoiled food out of the trash heaps all the time as a kid, he's sure he remembers how
But he's a little surprised that said rotting food is being actively cooked. By you. Seemingly in a choice made of your own free will
He wasn't expecting ... this, but a quick glance around the hut makes it clear to him that nothing terrible has happened, that you seem perfectly sane, and that you don't think anything's wrong
Well, you seem to trust your cooking, and he certainly trusts you, so ...
He side eyes Inanna's dramatic performance of whimpering and pawing at her nose, eventually turning to let her back out of the hut as you serve your bowls with a smile
He takes a glance at his serving as you dig in. Asra still talks about the time he ate a whole chili pepper without flinching - he can do this. He picks up his spoon, scoops up a jiggling chunk, and eats
You're a little surprised at how quickly his bowl disappears. You're not really enjoying your food yourself, but you're not going to judge his strange enthusiasm
"Muriel? If you're still hungry, there's more on the fire ..."
"I'm fine." He's getting out of his habit of depriving food of himself, but in this case, refusing to eat is a personal kindness
He drinks several glasses of water while you finish your dinner, asking you about your day and trying not to grimace at every silent burp that pulls the aftertaste back into his mouth
Inanna buries the rest after the two of you go to bed. Nobody knows how she managed it without opposable thumbs, but everything is possible for a wolf desperate to preserve her nose
Portia
Her brother might be an award-winning actor, but her flair for the dramatic only goes as far as silly little bits designed to make people laugh and pretending that she isn't about to punch somebody
She is a woman who knows her mind, her heart, her strength, and her limits. This is a limit, and she is doing her best to pass it
You can tell right away that she doesn't want to eat what you've made. You've never seen her smile look so uncomfortably tight, and you certainly didn't miss the way her stomach heaved when she leaned over the pot to take a closer look at your creation
But she's insistent on going through with your evening, even steering you towards the kitchen table and serving the bowls herself. She tries so very hard to mask the look of revulsion on her face when different chunks of stew jiggle at different frequencies
She places your bowls on the table and lifts her spoon, waiting for you to take the first bite in the hopes that your eyes will be opened and you'll insist on eating something else
No such luck. You're two spoonfuls in, so in the spirit of keeping an open mind, she loads up her utensil and shoves it in her mouth
You weren't expecting to be sprayed by the choke that seizes her, but sitting across from her puts you in the splatter zone and you're quick to give her your napkin and ask if she's okay
She nods weakly, looking slightly green. "MC," she says, "you are definitely stronger than I imagined." She takes another look at the gelatinous blobs on her table. "Stronger than you need to be."
She dusts off her hands and practically drags you out of the cottage. "Let's eat out tonight! My treat. And I just had the best idea for our next date night - we should take cooking lessons together!"
Lucio
He notices Mercedes and Melchior acting up on the way back to your campsite, but doesn't have any idea why until he gets a whiff and - oh, that is nasty
Some kind of skunk jacked up on magic must have done that, never fear, MC! He's here to save the day now - what do you mean that's dinner? That is not dinner. Dinner is not supposed to smell like that
He's not sparing a second to consider manners or acting. Lucio calls it like he sees it, and all he sees is poison
"MC, do we have to? It smells so bad, look at it MC, just loo - bleugh - no I'm not being dramatic! The smell made me gag for real, watch!"
And he leans over the pot again, just to take a deep lungful and subsequently let out the most visceral gagging belch you've ever witnessed
"See? It's bad, it's really bad, and I don't want to eat it! Why are you being so mean to me, MC?"
To be honest, you're not particularly excited to eat it either, but it's all you've got until you make it to the next town tomorrow, so you tell him as much as his pout slowly deepens
"Fine, I'll do it. I guess it can't be that bad if you made it -" He watches the way it slops into his bowl and gulps. "I take it back."
Sure it's a little spicier and clumpier and saltier and sickly sweeter than you planned, but you're able to stomach it just fine
And to your surprise, Lucio can too. He complains loudly the whole time, but his whining somehow grants him the ability to eat three full bowls
"See, you ate so much of it!"
"Well of course!" he puffs out his chest proudly. "I'm the best. At least it's not as bad as what we had in the army. But - MC?" he looks at you with pleading eyes, "please don't make that again."
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jimblejamblewritings · 11 months ago
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Our Violent Delights Will Not Have Violent Ends: The Twilight Saga Rewrite (Book 1, Twilight) | Part 2.
Summary: Y/N Swan is just like every other girl and she likes it that way. Normal is fantastic. Normal creates a functioning member of society. Normal is the reason she moved to a small town to live with her police officer father... only to find out that she gets the farthest thing from what she wanted. This is a re-write of Twilight.
Warnings for the Series: light violence, light angst, light smut
Warnings for the Chapter: none
Pairing: Edward Cullen x reader, Jacob Black x reader
Word Count: 3.4k
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The entirety of the lunch period, you couldn’t find the stomach to eat much. Your bowl of tomato soup only had a few spoonfuls taken out of it. But all the saltine crackers were gone. You had gone over and over in your head what you would say to Edward. Now that he was here, you couldn’t remember anything. You had never been in a real confrontation anymore. You took a glance at his table again. 
He looked different than before. Not terribly different, but enough that you noticed. His skin looked less pale and less stretched over his skeleton. The dark circles underneath his eyes aren’t there anymore either. Now, you could see why people said he looked perfect. 
The bell rang and you silently cursed. You couldn’t have been given more time? Reluctantly, you went with Eric and Mike to your biology class. Eric and you looked over when Mike started frantically digging in his backpack. 
“Ah, shit. Hey, tell Mr. Donoghue that I left my textbook in my car and I’m going to get it.” 
“Okay.” 
Mike ran as fast as possible while the two of you continued going to class. Eric sighed before turning to face you as you stood right in front of the doorway to bio class. 
“Hey, so, about prom, I’m the one in charge of communicating with the dj. I’ve lived my whole life here so I know my music choice sucks so I’m gonna need your playlist.” 
“Okay, when?” you asked as you pulled out yout phone to jot down that note. 
“As long as it’s before the month ends, that’s cool. And then dates…  I was wondering do you think Ang—” 
“How you liking the rain, Arizona?” Mike shook out his baseball cap that got soaked in the rain from the run to his car. 
“Guys! Class is about to start. Please take your seats,” Mr. Donoghue cut off whatever Eric was trying to say. If it was important, he’d get back to you later. 
Unfortunately, his lab partner and your lab partner were back so you had to sit with Edward Cullen. There was a slight smile on his face as you walked towards your lab bench. Before you got a chance to say the prepared speech, he spoke. 
“Hello. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself the other day. I’m Edward Cullen.” His voice was smooth like coffee and somewhat low in its sound. “You’re Y/F/N Swan, right?”  
“Y/N.” 
You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, turning your head to listen to Mr. Donoghue’s lesson. He must have been in cahoots with the universe because his assignment was partner work. The prize? A golden onion that has no value until he comes up with what it stands for. At least only one person could look through the microscope at a time. Edward pushed the device towards you. 
“Ladies, first.” 
“Why were you gone?” You looked in the microscope. “And it better be a good answer too… It’s prophase.” 
“Mind if I check?...Yeah, I was out of town for a couple days. It’s prophase.” 
“Like I said and the empty chair next to me told me that much.” 
“Personal reasons.” 
“Do personal reasons involve rude interactions?” 
“Uh, no. I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t the best day for me before you showed up to class.”  
“Apology accepted, I guess.” 
“So are you enjoying the rain?... What?”
You tried to stop laughing. “You’re asking me about the weather?” 
“Yeah, I guess I am.” 
“Well, no, not really. I’m not really a fan of any cold or wet place.” 
Edward chuckled as he checked another slide. 
“What?” 
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It’s anaphase.” 
“Mind if I check… Anaphase.” 
“Like I said,” he joked. “If you don’t like the rain then why did you move to the wettest place in the continental United States?” 
“Baseball.” 
“Baseball? It’s also anaphase. Do you want to check it?” 
“No, I believe you.” 
Edward listened intently as you retold your story to yet another person about why you were in Forks, asking questions when necessary. You guys continued to do your work and talk. He carried the golden onion prize as he escorted you to your locker. 
“Why didn’t you move with your mother and Phil?” 
“Moving once means moving again. Phil could get a second contract next year and we’d be in California or Maine or some stupid place like Delaware.” 
“But now you’re unhappy staying here?” 
“It’s complicated.” 
Edward paused. “I’m sorry, I’m asking too much. I’m just trying to figure you out. You’re very difficult for me to read.” 
“Well, asking questions like a normal human bei— hey, did you get contacts?” 
“No.” 
“I swear your eyes were black last time I saw you, now it’s like a golden brown color.” 
“Uh, no. It’s the fluorescents.” 
He walked away before you could say anything else. You didn’t see Edward until school ended and you went to your truck. He and his siblings seemed to be looking directly at you but you thought you were just being paranoid. You turned back around to dig through your bag for your keys. The screeching of tires caught your attention but it was too late. Tyler’s van was barrelling towards you and your feet couldn’t seem to move. 
Now was not the time to find out that your flight or fight response was the dreaded third option of freeze. You could see Edward, four cars away, staring at you in horror. His mouth dropped open. The same as all the other faces that were about to witness your death. Almost everything moved in slow motion.
The hunk of blue metal slid towards you, you felt something grab your waist, you were pulled down to the ground, and a pale hand was on the van that wasn’t hitting you. You stared at the dent in the metal caused by the hand before turning your head to make eye contact with Edward. 
He stared at you for a moment before letting go of you and running away. You were suddenly surrounded by people asking if you were alright. None of them seemed to have noticed Edward wasn’t there. The next thing you knew, you blacked out. 
The lights of the hospital were blinding when you finally came to your senses. The door opened with a vengeance and in strolled your very anxious father. He wouldn’t calm down no matter how much you tried to speak with him, threatening Tyler’s license and everything. It’s not like it was his fault his tires skidded on ice. You mouthed an apology before shutting the small curtain that divided the two hospital beds. 
“Dad, Dad I’m fine. Okay? I was lucky that Edward was there, no injuries.” 
“Edward?” Charlie turns to Dr. Cullen. “Your boy?” 
You cut in before the doctor could even get the chance to say anything. It seemed like he was going to lie. 
“Yeah, he got to me so quickly.” 
Dr. Cullen gave you a tight smile. “It sounds like you were very lucky. You just need to sign some paperwork, Charlie, and then you are good to go.” 
After Charlie signed the paperwork, he went to warm up the car before we had to drive to the school to get my car and then drive home. You turned the corner to one of the vending machines when you stopped after seeing Carlisle, Edward, and Rosalie talking with each other. It didn’t seem like a friendly conversation either. They were definitely arguing. As if they could hear you just breather, the three of them turned towards you. 
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” you asked. 
Edward looked reluctantly as he made his way towards you. “What?” 
“How did you get over to me so quickly?” 
“Y/N, what are you talking about? I was standing right next to you.” 
“No, you weren’t. Don’t try to lie through this either. You were across the parking lot. I know what I saw.” 
“And what was that?” 
“You stopped the van with your hand.” 
Edward’s somewhat amused face turned cold. “Well no one is going to believe you anyway. Can’t you just thank me and we just drop it?” 
“Thank you.” 
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” 
“Not at all,” I tell him, determined. 
“Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment.” 
You went home that night with more questions than answers and the oddly sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you. You went to the bathroom and took your shower while thinking about how Edward stopped the van. So far, you had no concrete answers. You went to bed without any answers as well. Although you did wake up in the middle of night after having a strange dream about Edward. 
You tried to not think about that as you went to school the next day. The buses were already up front when you parked, ready for the field trip that you were positive wasn’t going to be very fun. Edward and his siblings, Alice and Jasper, walked past you. Mike popped up in front of you. 
“Hey, you’re alive, Arizona!” 
“You need more than a van to take me down.” 
The two of you laugh as you hi-fived. 
“So I was wondering, are you going to prom?” 
“Um, I don’t know yet. Charlie said I get two free no questions asked days if I go but me and dancing… it’s not pretty.” 
“Well, do you know if Jess is going?” 
“Mike!” you gasped. “Are you trying to ask Jessica out?” 
“Lower your voice, please. Okay, I may have had a small crush on her since we were seven and I am choosing to ask out my very good friend to prom.” 
“She’s going. I’m going dress shopping with her and Ang next weekend.” 
“Okay. Okay, cool.” Mike walked off before coming right back. “Do you think she likes me?” 
“Most definitely.” 
“Sweet. Thanks, Y/N/N. You’re the best.” 
He got on one of the buses while you got on the other. Tyler sat next to you, plugging your headphones into the jack on his phone. You nodded along to Blue October’s “Hate Me” as it played. The two of you didn’t talk at all but stared out the window like you were in a music video and listened to music until you reached your destination. 
The greenhouse was… interesting. That was the nicest way you could put it. Maybe it would have been nicer if you all weren’t cramped in the small walkway between the plants. Mr. Molina and Mr. Donoghue were trying their hardest to get people to water the plants or give them soil. 
“Now, I’m gonna make a steaming cup of compost tea.” 
He handed it to Eric. You laughed as you heard a very panicked yell. 
“No! Don’t drink it! It’s for the plants.” 
“What’s a no questions asked day?” a deep voice behind you asked. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin. Turning around, you saw the classic peacoat and never out of place hair of Edward Cullen. When had he even come up behind you? 
“You know you’re not helping your case. How’d you even hear that?” 
“You didn’t answer my question.” 
“Dude, you never answer any of mine. You don’t even say hi.”
“Hi.” 
“Please try to act less like a human. Are you gonna tell me anything? Preferably about the other day.”  
“Yeah. I had an adrenaline rush,” he said clinically. “It’s very common. You can Google it.” 
You paused and looked at him. “You’re a terrible liar. And a no question day is when I tell Charlie I need to do something or go somewhere and he asks no questions. It’s a mutual trust betwe—” 
You tripped but felt air and two cold hands grab you instead of feeling your face kiss pavement. 
“Careful,” Edward said as he set you upright again. 
“Thanks. So are you going to answer any of my other questions?” 
“Um. Ma—” 
“Y/N/N!” Jess stepped in between you two. “Guess who just asked me to prom?” 
Edward took the opportunity to slip away. 
“Who?” you feigned ignorance. 
“Mike! I’ve been hoping since forever but like he actually asked me.” 
You and Jess talked the entire way out of the greenhouse and onto the buses, forgetting about Edward and wanting to ask him more questions until it was too late. You weren’t going to think about him for the rest of the day. You had a father-daughter/mother-son date with Charlie, Jacob’s mom, and Jacob. Which meant going to a restaurant because both Charlie and Sarah worked long hours and weren’t going to cook. And Billy was doing his physical therapy for walking so there was no way anyone would force him to cook. 
You went to pick up Jacob at his school while his mom picked up Charlie from the station. He was still inside when you reached the school. It felt stupid signing the visitors clipboard when the school day was already over but you did it anyway just in case. When you made it to a hangout area for students you spotted Jake with his friends. 
You’d like to say they were your friends too but you never got very close with them over the summer. Embry usually went somewhere with his mom, Quil’s grandfather kept inside most of the time, and Seth had sports.
And their acquaintances you knew even less. Paul and Jared were always one grade level above you all and hung out with themselves. Sam didn’t seem to like any of you despite being only a couple years older than you and having even a smaller age gap with Paul. And Leah didn’t come around because either her loser younger brother was there or Sam was there which sucked because you wanted another girl around. 
“Hey, Y/N,” Embry said as you turned the corner. 
“Hi, guys. Jake, you ready?”  
“Yeah. See you guys later.” 
He nodded at his friends before getting up to stand next to you. Your fingers twitched as he intertwined them with his own. He rolled his eyes at the wolf whistles from his friends, laughing when you threw up a middle finger while the two of you walked away. 
“So where are we going?” you asked. 
“Who picked last summer?” 
“Charlie.” 
“Oh, nice, so it’s my turn.” Jacob looked something up on his phone. “Smuggler’s Bar and Grill, sound good? It’s in Port Angeles though.” 
You shrugged. “Eh, I’ve already finished all my homework and Charlie doesn’t go back to work until the graveyard shift. Go ahead and text them our choice.” 
Your truck pulled out of the school parking lot and headed towards the highway. Jacob fiddled with the radio for at least one decent station while you drove the hour it took just to get to Port Angeles. Honestly, you didn’t mind the time. The drive, surrounded by trees, was comforting. Especially with your best friend. 
If you and Jake weren’t singing to songs, you were gossiping about school. There was no need to catch up on anything else. Jake was one of the few people you texted nearly everyday despite being so far away most of the year — including the fact that he had a secret girlfriend for three years. Whenever he wanted to get her a present, he would text you what it was and would pretend he was sending it to you so Billy and Sarah wouldn’t get suspicious. It worked. They didn’t find out even after the two broke up. 
You guys pulled into the restaurant and waited for your parents to show up. Like you predicted, Sarah already analyzed the entire menu and knew what she wanted to order. Jake held up his phone. 
“They said they’re twenty minutes away and the food takes that long to prepare so order for them.” 
“I’m surprised she got Charlie to pick something ahead of time.” 
The two of you went in and got a table like they said. The host smiled a bit too sweetly as they called over a waiter. You and Jacob looked at each other and came to the same conclusion at the same time, silently gagging. There was no way they thought that you guys were on a date. Absolutely not. Was it because you were holding hands? The two of you pulled apart but the damage was already done. 
The waiter sat you down at what you could tell was the restaurant’s nicest booth by the best window that would let you look out onto the water. He handed you the menus and left to give you alone time to think. 
“Just gross, no offense,” you said. 
Jacob shrugged. “None taken. I would never date you, you’re, like, my friend.” 
“Same. Too weird… Do you think they’ll give us free dessert if we are though?” 
“Do you want to play it up?” 
“Absolutely.” 
Jacob gave you a smile you had never seen before but assumed he must have given to his girlfriend. He laid his hand across the table for you to grab. You took it with no problem — Jake’s hands were always warm and still a bit soft since he wore gloves when he worked on cars and bikes. His thumb stroked the back of your hand and he set the menu down to look at you. Almost like magic, or like they’ve been secretly watching, the wait staff came over. 
“Are you two ready to order?” he asked as he set down two glasses of water. 
“Ladies first,” Jake let go of your hand, ready to scoop up your menu when you finished speaking. 
“Um, does the shrimp scampi have a smell?” you asked in fake concern, hoping the waiter would catch on to teen angst of potential bad breath before a first kiss. 
“Oh, no, I got you, honey.” He had a noticeable southern accent. “What do you want to drink?” 
“Iced Tea, please. Oh, and a Caesar salad with ranch dressing.” 
“Got it. And for the young sir?”
“I’ll take the Not Your Mother’s Mac and Cheese along with a lemonade. Oh, and our parents are chaperoning but they’re a little late. Can we get them one clam chowder and one Hawaiian chicken sandwich both with Ruby tonics? What is a ruby tonic?” 
“Oh, I’m so glad you kids are too young to know what it is. Your food will be ready in a minute.” 
He took the menus and walked away. You could hear him gossip to the rest of the staff about chaperones. Jacob grabbed your hand again, giving it a peck. 
“You know he’s totally gonna bring you breath mints. Did you really ask if the shrimp would smell?” 
“Hey, I had to sell it. What brand do you think it’ll be?” 
Jake kissed your hand again. “Lifesavers. They scream not obvious for teenagers asking.” 
“You say this from experience?” 
“Ehh with Elle a couple of times.” 
“Really? I can’t believe you had your first kiss and girlfriend and I couldn’t even get a date for homecoming. You’re still a virgin right?” 
“Yes. I am still a loser virgin.” 
“Hey, I’m a virgin.” 
“Well then in that case virginity rocks.” 
You and Jacob cheered and clinked glasses before laughing when you were unable to hold it anymore. He moved over to your side since the two of you would have to be sitting together anyway once Charlie and Sarah showed up. He took the opportunity to sling his arm around you while you snuggled up to him. The two of you could clearly hear awes. 
“If we actually get free dessert,” Jacob whispered. “We need to do this more often.”  
Your parents came in exactly when the food came out. They looked at the two of you weirdly as you awkwardly broke apart. You shook your head before Charlie could say anything. They went with it like you had asked.  Your parents could do absolutely nothing but shake their heads and smile as the waiter brought out free cinnamon rolls in to-go boxes for not just you and Jacob but for the “chaperones” as well. 
You guys left a generous tip, cleaned up the table, and left the restaurant. You and Jacob clinked the to-go boxes together. 
“Here’s to fake boyfriends.” 
“Here’s to fake girlfriends.”
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cifer-ulqui · 8 months ago
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Ulquiorra x Reader Drabbles
All of these drabbles I originally wrote in Portuguese to practice writing! They're all highly self-indulgent and too sweet; Ulqui might be rather ooc; I kind of like the whole "he's definitely in love with reader but neither of them think he's capable of it" thing I've got going on here. Part 2
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I’m Not Cold The moon is very pretty tonight. His eyes are prettier. The sand blows across the empty desert. The wind disturbs his hair.
Cold sand… Cold hands.
“You’re cold.” It wasn't a question. His voice causes shivers down my spine.
“And you.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not cold.” Ulquiorra says.
“Your heart is cold.”
“It’s not.” His eyes close. “I have you.”
--- ---
A Peculiar Cook Ulquiorra looks over my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“I’m cooking.”
“Why? We’re hollows. We don’t have to eat.”
“Because it’s tasty.”
Ulquiorra clicks his tongue how he does when he’s being cynical. “That’s the reason? It’s useless.”
I turn my head and look with a glare. “You’re going to eat it, and if you complain I will make you eat more. Understood?”
“... Understood.”
“Good.” I mix the vegetable puree. “It’s gazpacho, a soup.”
“Gazpacho.” His voice has no inflexion. “From Spain?”
“Yes. It has tomatoes, olive oil, garlic, cucumbers, peppers, and breadcrumbs. I already made tortillas, and I’m going to fry some calamari last,” I prattle.
“... You like to cook. It’s pleasant for you?”
“Yes,” I say while I go to the fryer.
Ulquiorra sighs and follows after me. “You are peculiar.,” he says.
“You like peculiarities. They’re interesting, right?”
His eyes find mine. “No, I only like you.”
--- ---
Rude “Ow,” I complain. My leg bleeds slowly onto the floor, leaving a trail behind me.
Ulquiorra clicks his tongue while he follows me. “I said you would hurt yourself. You didn’t listen.”
“Fuck off.”
He sighs. “Let me help you.”
“You hurt my head when you speak.”
He grabs my shoulder. “You’re being rude because I was right.” Ulquiorra pulls me by the shoulder. “My quarters are here.”
“I can go to my own room,” I object.
“No. Come.” He doesn’t release my shoulder and drags me to his room. He pushes me to sit on the bed.
Ulquiorra narrows his eyes and points at me. “Stay.”
My blood drips to the floor. I wait for him.
Ulquiorra returns with a medical kit. “Your leg,” he kneels in front of me. He takes my leg, examining the wound before he opens the kit.
Cold hands work diligently to staunch the blood. The manner in which he touches my leg could be considered careful, if he was capable of caring. Ulquiorra is not gentle, but wraps my leg with caution.
“Thanks,” I murmur when he finishes.
“Hm?” Ulquiorra tilts his head… certainly, he heard me.
He wants me to repeat it. “Tsk. I didn’t need your help.”
He lifts an eyebrow, looking at me impassively. “That’s not what you said.”
“Then why did you ask?!”
“You’re rude when you’re upset.” Ulquiorra closes the kit. I stand.
… I try to stand.
Pain shoots up my leg and I lean against him. I wince. He stands up. His hand touches my chest and he pushes me back onto the bed.
I sigh and lay on his sheets. “I’m stealing your bed.”
“Rude.”
I wink at him, making his eyes roll. “Thanks, my bat.”
--- ---
The Heart Does Not Exist “I have no heart.” Ulquiorra closes his eyes and turns his head. “It’s a useless idea that the weak use to forgive their weakness.”
I touch his face gently, turning his gaze to me. His skin is cold and smooth like marble. “Then… I could be your heart.” I look at the hole in his chest. Maybe he really doesn’t have a heart.
His pupils are constricted, black lips parted slightly. His disbelief is clear on his face.
“Idiot,” Ulquiorra scoffs. “Your words have no significance.”
I laugh. “You can be cute when you're mean, my heart.”
“Stop.” He removes his face from where my thumb touches a tear. “You won’t change my opinion. Stop with your prattle.”
I roll my eyes. “And what if I said… You have a heart?” He clicks his tongue.
“Absurd. The heart does not exist.”
“I’m going to take your hand.” I smile. It’s never a good idea to surprise an arrancar, much less the fourth Espada. He lets me take his hand in mine.
His cold hand touches my chest. “My heart. Do you feel it? Beating beneath your hand. Ba-dum! This is my heart, the organ that pumps the blood through my body.”
Ulquiorra’s eyebrows furrow while he looks at his hand. One of his fingers moves, tapping my chest to the rhythm of my heart.
“This beating is your heart?” His voice… sounds gentler. His fingers curl like claws against my chest. I try not to flinch, remembering his propensity to pierce bodies where his own hole is.
“Yes. And even if you don’t find one in your chest, mine will also beat for you. You’re in my heart.”
Ulquiorra stares, seeming confused.
His hand trembles. Disbelief and determination cross his face.
“Impossible.” He pulls his hand away.
Ah. My chest hurts for a moment. I knew that he wouldn’t believe so easily. “You don’t have to believe. I just wanted to show you.”
I sit on the bed. I don’t feel disappointed. I have no reason. I know who he is. He has no heart.
But why does it have to hurt.
The bed dips under his weight. A hand touches mine.
“A heart… I have no heart.” His voice… it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. “It’s impossible. I cannot see the heart, so it doesn’t exist.”
His eyes are so green. So somber. Those tears must be the cry of his empty soul.
“Then disregard what I said. It’s not important.”
His other hand touches my chest. “This is your heart?”
It seems difficult to breathe, but I ignore the sensation in my chest. I lift my hand.
“Yes.” I touch.
His eyes widen.
Ba-dum.
His chest… something beats beneath my hand.
--- ---
Snowflakes It’s cold. Snowflakes float to the ground. I can see my breath in front of me.
Ulquiorra looks. “What is this?”
“Snow,” I smile. “In winter, when it’s cold, the rain can turn into snow. The pieces we call snowflakes.” He's holding my hand; I told him it was to keep mine warm.
He watches the sky. The tears and mask are hidden. His skin is abnormally pale, his dark bangs fall over his face and beautiful green eyes. Flakes land in his black hair.
He’s perfect. I sigh. Too perfect.
It's been a year since Aizen was defeated. Ulquiorra and the other Arrancar that survived wander between Hueco Mundo and the world of the living. I've been tasked with watching Ulquiorra when he visits. Poor Ichigo is regularly haunted by Grimmjow.
It's the first of December. Ulquiorra’s birthday.
We’re shopping in the human world, in gigai.
He doesn’t know my motive, just that I wanted him to join me. A shiver runs down my spine and I tuck the scarf closer to my neck.
I pull the sleeve of Ulquiorra’s shirt and point to a small bakery. The smell of bread and sweets calls me to open the door. “Let’s get some treats, Ulqui.”
He follows without arguing, letting me drag him.
“It’s warm in here,” I smile at him. “Smells good?”
Ulquiorra looks out the window. “This is all useless.”
I roll my eyes. “Ok, Mr. Gloomy.” I order two pastries and two coffees.
My hands are frozen, and I take the to-go cups of coffee and hand one to Ulquiorra. He takes it, furrowing his brow when I also hand him one of the sweets.
The coffee is so warm; my hands heat up quickly and I take a bite of my chocolate treat.
Ulquiorra follows me outside, looking towards the snow-covered street.
“Let's go, my heart.” I beckon for him to follow me to the next store. I drink my coffee while we walk and he mirrors me. His face scrunches up and I can't tell if he likes it or not, but he keeps drinking it. Cute.
We look at clothes, snacks, coffee cups, and games. I look longer than necessary, pointing things out to him and explaining what they are. I check my phone for the time.
Ulquiorra is obviously not interested, but walks by my side. He finishes his snack and coffee. I feel a little warm inside. He puts up with my nonsense until we get to my apartment.
A commotion quiets on the other side of the door when I knock and I try not to laugh.
The door opens.
Ulquiorra's face is still while the group calls out, “Happy birthday!”
He takes my hand, and my eyes find his. “It's ridiculous. Why are you all doing this?”
I shake my head. “Because we like you, Ulquiorra. Happy birthday, my bat.”
Ulquiorra stares at me. Our friends bring us inside to the party. He sighs and squeezes my hand.
“...Thank you.."
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