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littlereddream · 13 days

Note

ok so that zombie apocalypse au with jason was absolutely insanely amazing. i love how you wrote the rationale behind staying with him. would you ever consider writing more on the time jason kisses reader the first time (the one after they’d been attacked by a horde? if not, totally fine! have a cool day

Thank you!! So glad you asked because I’ve been wanting to write more about this au lol

This fully escaped me and ended up being longer than the original. Included is the missing scene from Jason kissing the reader for the first time and (I know you didn’t ask for this but I can’t help myself) their second kiss.

Enjoy!

(The original)

Under Heavy Rot

Missing scenes

Zombie apocalypse au typical gore (though more than Under Heavy Rot), gn reader

It was like digging for iron and finding gold instead. The corner store, such a short walk away from Jason’s house, was like a piece of trapped, untapped history. Every shelf was untouched, fully stocked as if the employees had made it their very last duty to fill up the space with supplies.

It’s not all perfect, of course. All of the dairy products are well past their expiration date, leaving you to grab powdered milk instead. The power’s out, and likely has been since the very beginning of it all, so most of the refrigerated or frozen products are out of the question.

Still, candy bars and canned food are nothing to scoff at.

After confirming that you’ve busied yourself with shoving non perishables into your backpack, Jason goes off to secure the store’s outside.

It doesn’t take long to fill up your backpack, and you zip it shut before slinging it over your shoulders. At that point, you almost leave. You’ve done what you and Jason came to do, so what’s left?

Just exploring the chance that the store might have a bag of those chips you used to love. Jason’s not around to lecture you for taking unnecessary risks, so you make your way over to the back. You’ll take your chances.

Every little movement has the old tile creaking under your feet, until one step prompts a quiet splash. Your gaze flicks down to your shoe, finding a puddle of sticky, nearly black blood. It sticks to the bottom of your boot when you raise it, thick and gooey.

Your hand flies to your knife, drawing it out of its sheath. Walker blood. It’s too coagulated to be anything else, too dark to be from anything other than the dead. The puddle smears forward, creating a trail through the aisle before turning past your view into the next.

Slowly, weapon raised, you move forward to follow the bloody path. You hardly make it two steps until a shrill snarl is your only warning before a hand grabs your shoulder.

You whirl around, knife angled to slash, but the blade can only uselessly cut across the walker’s chest. There’s no reaction from it, entirely undeterred from your attempt. You step back, distancing yourself as best you can while trying to form a plan. It’s just one. You’ve taken down countless walkers before, why’s this any different?

Another groan, this time from right behind you. You look back and, fuck, there’s two, blocking the other end of the aisle. Okay. Sacrifices, sacrifices.

Turning back to the one, you grip your knife tight and rush forward at it’s feet, diving between it’s legs to get behind before twisting around to slash the back of it’s knees. The action costs you your knife, getting stuck in the flesh mid movement, but it’s fine. It’s enough to buy you time, let you find out where you’d gotten yourself.

To the very back, with three walkers gaining on you and a singular clear path to the exit the next aisle over. You don’t make it. They’re faster than you’d predicted, recovering too quickly for your plan to fall into any sort of action. Too close, too close.

The two steps back you do take have your shoulders pressing into a shelf, securing your fate.

Or not. You could’ve sworn that the walkers in front of you didn’t have those holes in their head two seconds ago. They fall, one by one until they’re nothing but piles of previously reanimated flesh in front of you.

Behind them? Jason, slowly lowering his gun to rush over to you. His brows are knitted together, frown tight on his face, and you can only stare at him as his hands come up to cup both sides of your jaw. He tilts your face in his hands, checking you for injuries.

Jason repeats your name quietly, mumbled like he needs it to breathe. Like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

“Did you get bit? Scratched? What happened? I thought…” he trails off.

“I’m okay, Jay. They didn’t hurt me. You got them,” you reassure, hands coming up to rest over his.

He’s close, enough for you to see the sweaty glow of his skin, the scuffs of dirt on his cheeks. You don’t think there’s ever been anyone so beautiful.

“You’re okay,” Jason repeats, like he doesn’t quite believe it himself.

You nod, sweeping your thumbs in little circles over the back of his hands. Jason doesn’t waste another second. You aren’t ready for it, you don’t think he was either. Between one second and the next, he has his lips pressed to yours.

It’s soft, sweet in a way you wouldn’t have expected from the same man who almost killed you during your first meeting. Though maybe you shouldn’t be surprised. He’s also the same man who changed the bandages on your wound as if you’re broken glass, bound to shatter entirely if he pressed a little too hard.

He holds your face in his hands like the world around you doesn’t exist. There aren’t dead walkers sprawled around your feet. You aren’t standing in a crappy, abandoned corner store. This isn’t about to end the second he pulls away.

But it does, and the second his lips leave yours, the real world falls back into place. You don’t think you’ve ever hated it more.

Jason breaks it abruptly, but doesn’t fully pull away. His forehead remains touching yours, eyes squeezed tight like he’s preparing himself to force his next words out.

“I’m sorry. It…you know. Adrenaline. It won’t happen again, promise.”

Jason’s hands drop down to his sides, and now even the warmth from your kiss is gone. The real world is cold, and all you can do is shiver.

But if he wants to pretend it was a mistake, then you’ll let him. At this point, you doubt there’s much you wouldn’t do for him.

The realization hits you like a bucket of cold water. You really, really don’t want to leave him. Judging by everything that’s happened, he doesn’t want you to either.

There’s nothing for you to say, not that he gives you any time to speak. He’s already grabbing more canned food to shove into his own backpack.

“I think we have everything. We’re probably good to head back. Need anything else?” He asks.

You need him to kiss you again.

“No. Let’s go.”

With a curt nod from him, you leave the corner store, your favorite chips forgotten.

Two weeks later, you learn that Jason Todd is a liar. A no good, handsome, filthy little liar. And sure, maybe it’s you that gave him the perfect grounds to break his promise, but still. A liar.

It’s not like you’re not grateful. If Jason hadn’t gone back on his promise, then you wouldn’t be sandwiched between him and the kitchen counter.

You’d gotten tired of watching him look away anytime you caught him staring, of seeing how he’d never allow himself to touch you for more than a second when pulling you out of danger.

Your exhaustion, well paired with the event of him wearing his stupidly fitting leather jacket around you, was the perfect recipe for you to damn the consequences and just kiss him.

You’d started with so much confidence. You thought you understood what he kissed like, thought you’d be the one to overwhelm him when you grabbed him by the collars of his jacket.

“I really want to kiss you right now. Can I?” You’d whispered, like you’d disturb the air around you if you were just that little bit louder.

He’d nodded stupidly, eyes wide and lips parted in shock.

You’d overwhelm him, you’d thought.

You’ve never been so wrong.

Within seconds of your lips meeting his, Jason doesn’t waste another moment before backing you up into the counter. This Jason is different than the one from the corner store, who was so sweet and gentle. This Jason kisses like he’s trying to steal the air from inside your lungs, more starved than the dead outside.

Your brain feels blank, all confidence gone along with any memory of what to do while kissing somebody. He doesn’t even give you a second to think, broad hands squeezing your hips like you’d even try to move away. What the hell, what the hell.

Jason pulls away to give you a total of two seconds to breathe, then he’s back, bringing a hand up wrap around one of your wrists, still resting on his chest. What is he- oh. With his hand guiding one of your arms to wrap around his neck, you manage to have just enough brain capacity left to bring the other arm up too.

You aren’t sure how long you kiss. What you do know is that even after your lips part for the final time, the real world isn’t even close to coming back. Your brain’s too fuzzy, head resting against his chest while his arms wrap around your waist, slowly swaying the both of you to a melody that only he knows.

You know that if you look up now, you’ll see the wide smile that he hasn’t been able to force down since you’ve stopped kissing, despite his best efforts.

Leaving. Right. As if. As far as you were concerned, the only way either of you would ever leave is with the other following right behind.

And it’s perfect.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #x reader #zombie apocolypse au #there was no way to stop the length of this one yall #I did try

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dearharriet · 7 months

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"you're really red right now." with george weasley? and congrats on 150! 🥳

thank you sm for the request! <3 (wc: 851)

Swinging under the restricted access rope, you climb the stairs to the twins’ annex two at a time. Behind you, the store is mostly quiet, except for Fred’s loud singing as he feeds the pygmy puffs.

The banister is creaky when you lean on it, so you’re sure George can hear you coming. His door is open, so you let yourself in, announcing yourself with a rap on the stained pine trim.

“Fred says you’re hiding, but I can’t imagine what from,” you say instead of hello. “Certainly not me, I hope?”

George glances away from his books, halfway through a bite of takeaway. His mouth stills its chewing as he blinks owlishly at you. His hair is all askew, likely from tugging at it in concentration, and he has a tiny speck of sauce on his chin. You’d probably find it embarrassing if you didn’t like him so much.

“Sorry, hello,” you amend, realizing you caught him unawares. He remains frozen, though his jaw starts working to rid itself of the food that’s keeping him silent.

“Hi,” he ekes out, “on your break, are you?”

You hum affirmatively, coming around his desk to converse more privately with him.

“Yeah, and I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this idea I have for a product we could release near Christmas,” you ramble, leaning a hip against his desk and crossing your arms. George is staring up at you like you’re a star he’s never seen before. “A red-hot cocoa. We could infuse dragon peppers into the mix—to make it really spicy, yknow?”

George doesn’t look too convinced. If anything, he looks like he hasn’t heard you at all.

“I know it’s sort of similar to flaming fudge, but I thought the effect of making it themselves might add intrigue for customers,” you continue, starting to feel a little bit embarrassed.

Silence stretches just long enough to be uncomfortable, emphasized by an especially loud zzzzzziiiiiip from downstairs.

Biting your lip, you wince. “George?”

He blinks, seeming to come alive again, somewhat.

“Did you do something to your hair?” he asks out of the blue.

You frown. “You didn’t hear what I said, did you?”

To his credit, George looks terribly guilty in the face of your accusation. He takes it in stride, too, despite being every color of wrong.

“Is that what you were telling me about?” he asks.

Sighing, you take his loosened tie and shake it around in teasing frustration. There was a time when doing something as familiar as that would make you feel unprofessional, but you know better now.

“No. I was telling you about my idea for a new product.”

George’s mouth opens and closes silently, searching for words. He looks hot around the collar, from embarrassment or flustering or both. You like to tease him like this, because upon meeting him, he didn’t seem the type to be fazed by flirting at all.

Feeling maniacal, you take the opportunity to wipe away the food still on his chin, letting your touch linger a hair longer than necessary. The color in George’s neck shoots up to his pale cheeks, giving him the hue of a ripe strawberry.

“Merlin, George,” you muster through a grin, “you’re really red right now.”

He ducks his head then, ardently avoiding any inch of you he can. Cursing, he presses the backs of his hands to his cheeks to cool them.

“Sorry.” He steals a glance at you, his brows furrowed in what might be confusion. “Remind me what your idea was?”

You accommodate him, running the idea past him again, with more confidence this time. You don’t mind wasting your break away talking, at least not with George.

“Hot cocoa,” he repeats, rubbing his chin. You weren’t expecting a promotion or anything, but his mild response worries you. “We could workshop it together, yeah?”

“Sure,” you say, nerves winding tight in your chest. “If you’re not too busy.”

“Honestly, I haven’t done any work since an hour ago,” he admits. “Is it busy downstairs?”

You strain to listen past George’s office, down the stairs in the popular shop. It’s easy to make out the fizzing lightning effects and the siren-like sounds that engulf the love potion display, but any real crowd bustle is absent.

“Hardly,” you say.

George pushes up from his chair, making for his door. “Good,” he says, “we can start now.”

He closes the heavy door, and then retrieves a cauldron and hauls it over to his desk. Before he sets it down, though, he holds it up in front of your face.

“In case you were wondering why I thought you did something to your hair,” he explains, “it’s because someone did something to your hair.”

In the warped reflection on the brass cauldron you can see yourself—and your flaming pink hair.

“Merlin, I look like Tonks.”

George laughs at that, dropping the heavy basin onto the rich mahogany table. He doubles back to his shelves again to collect some ingredients.

“Any idea who did it?” he prompts.

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah. He looks a lot like you.”

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

#harriet’s 150 celebration #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem #george weasley drabble #george weasley imagine #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #request #the weasleys

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silverzoomies · 2 months

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silverzoomiezzz hi hi i was eating my cloudberry ice cream and i dont know why i start to think about peter and then i think about you. and i have a question for you. what do you think peter’s fav snacks that he would save it for you because he wanted you to enjoy and love it as much as he does? this is so silly lol but anyway have a great summer <3

💗oh my gosh, hello anon sweetie !! i'm sorry for answering so late !! i hope your summer has been nice !! it's been pretty decent here, aside from the lame ass humidity.🔥🫠🔥

i'm so honored you would think of me, after thinking of our beloved speedy boy. 💗honestly, i take that as such a huge compliment !!

⚡snacks i think peter maximoff would like (he hoards them, cuz he's the snack hoarding type. ty dofp 💗):

⚡in canon, he hoards hostess snack cakes. specifically the chocolatey, cream-filled kind ⚡and twinkies. dude's got twinkies for two movies in a row ⚡like it's no wonder people assume he's a twinkie fiend ⚡we also see him with so much pepsi and mtn dew ⚡and i know it's just product placement obvi. but he does seem like a mtn dew guy, right? i bet he'd love baja blast. code red too ⚡dk if this counts as a snack, but he'd probably love taco bell. i mean, it's fast. it's cheap. it's addictive. it's easy to indulge in. mans would quote those old taco bell commercials with the chihuahua ⚡sour candy. all of it. gummy worms, airhead x-tremes, sour twists, sour patch kids. tell me i'm wrong. i'm not ⚡he'd make a mess with some fun dip, lemme tell ya ⚡any candy they used to give out on halloween? he'd be addicted to all that shit. he'd love sugary junk. he constantly needs his fix. laffy taffy, nerds, now and laters, skittles, pop rocks, m&m's - you name it, he's into it ⚡imagine the dorito fingers, anon. the cheeto fingers. the takis fingers. do y'all think he'd be more into regular cheetos, or hot cheetos? he reads as a hot cheetos guy to me ⚡he'd slam some icees. slurpees. any kinda syrupy, frozen drink. he mixes all the flavors, sucks it down, and feels no brain freeze ⚡if you took him to carnivals, boardwalks, or amusement parks; he'd put the funnel cake stands out of business ⚡sweets are his kryptonite, really ⚡i personally like to imagine he knows his fair share of international snacks too. since he can zip around the world in a blink. taiyaki. baklava. conchas. tres leches. pirozhki. european chocolate. any and all kinds of street food. he knows all the best 7-eleven instant ramen - and the best toppings for 'em too ⚡i think he'd also go hog wild over a really good steak, y'know? or some barbecue. some ribs. some brisket. all the shmeats !!

⚡snacks i think peter maximoff would save, just so he could share them with you💗:

⚡he wouldn't ⚡correction: he couldn't ⚡c'mon, do you honestly think he'd have the self control? ⚡you're asking him to do the impossible ⚡see, anon, he'd think about saving a yummy treat for you ⚡keyword being think ⚡like, just as he starts to realize he's crushing on you big time ⚡he's guzzling something tasty, when he has the thought: hey...wait a sec! you'd probably really like this!! ⚡but a second later, the treat's already gone. devoured in an instant. whoops! oh well!! ⚡he's just way too impulsive to save anything ⚡like it would have to be out of sight, out of mind ⚡or you'd have to pick from his own, secret stash ⚡because otherwise, he can't hold himself back. he'll gorge any snacks in the nearest vicinity ⚡he'd legit have to wait 'til you were both together. in that moment. if you had a few minutes. he'd be like, "hey. babe. babe. babe. babe. i got somethin' i wanna show you." ⚡he speeds you away for some mind-blowingly good street food, in some country you've never been to, nor heard of ⚡even on valentine's day. he has to snag you one of those heart-shaped boxes of chocolates last minute ⚡that, or he has to hide it from himself. if he doesn't, he'll be lookin' down at an empty box - chocolate all over the corners of his mouth - like "ah, shit."

#peter maximoff headcanons #headcanons #long post #txt #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #asks #anon #i hope this layout works idfk what i'm doing lmao

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betterbemeta · 1 month

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I have said it before and i don't care how many youtubers advertise hello fresh or hungryroot to make a living

meal subscription services are not worth it.

Not a single one of them is actually cheaper in the long term than planning and buying your own groceries.

many of them have initial discounts to sell you the service and then hope you are just too busy or too tired to unsubscribe. almost ALL people who sign up for a meal plan will unsubscribe within the first year because they were only there to access those early discounts BECAUSE THEY NEEDED CHEAPER FOOD IMMEDIATELY.

Your normal grocery store probably does have a few dark patterns but not nearly as many as even the 'nicest' meal subscription service.

There are articles out there like "I did the math and the groceries and meal services are the same price mostly!" but if you pay attention, there are massive holes in their thinking:

the meals or plans that track closest to grocery store prices are ones that adhere to special diets. Eating vegan, keto, etc. can be more pricey to shop for. This is a known part of the strategy for meal kits and delivery services-- they can't compete with the price of typical groceries, but just like some people will shop at an expensive Health Food store, others will be willing to pay a premium for luxury or diet-specific products. And chances are if you're a regular person keeping a special diet with a limited amount of disposable income you probably have already made compromises for your budget and don't need a for-profit service to pry away that money you're trying to save.

These articles frame, 'you don't have to buy oil, seasonings, vinegar, or staple ingredients' as a cost saving or even food waste saving measure... but that's also true if you just eat regular TV dinners from the grocery store freezer aisle, many of which offer the same or better prices per serving. But really, is this not just a grocery shopping version of 'Vimes 'Boots' theory of socioeconomic unfairness'? Exploitation of those who can't invest in the cost of things upfront results in poor people spending more money for worse outcomes?

If I can't make a restaurant's exact same fish sandwich for the same price, I can just make a chicken sandwich or a grilled portobello. Or buy a box of frozen dumplings. Saving money on Grilled Trout Over Wild Rice shipped to my door makes no sense when I simply wouldn't choose to cook something like that without a special reason.

if these meal kits and delivery plan services really WERE cheaper than groceries, grocery stores would be losing money to them and they're mostly losing money to people buying less food in general.

#food #subscription services #hello fresh #hungryroot #blue apron #DON'T.

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nathandrakeisabottom · 3 months

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⋆ Nathan Drake: Domestic Headcanons ⋆

The long-awaited, completely unasked for companion piece to @durrtydawg's Sam domestic headcanons piece. Revel in my self-indulgent, self-absorbed, and grotesquely specific fantasies of getting to call Nathan Drake my house husband. A house husband who jumps off speeding trains with a handgun on the occasional Thursday.

Not only does our pretty boy Nathan Morgan need someone who grounds him— (though that can mean many things; Nate is anything but a one type man)

But for someone who he genuinely believes won’t judge him for who he is

With them, every morning is peaceful and slow

Will come up from behind before breakfast with a slow grasp at their waist, a delicate kiss he doesn’t break for a good few seconds against his partner's cheek or neck (will literally sigh into it)

And he fucking loves if they do the same for him

Everything is slow and silence and sighs

(He’s rarely so fucking quiet, and he appreciates someone who he feels comfortable finally letting everything go for. His voice gets hoarse with how much he’s always screaming and snarking)

Will shudder more from morning intimacy than straight up sex; if he’s surprised by kisses up his back as he makes some (admittedly, pretty runny) eggs, he'll accidentally drop and shatter dishes like nobody’s business

Speaking of which, only ever gets the cheapest plates/cups because he’s always fucking breaking them (thrift store, preferably)

James Taylor, Norah Jones, Michael Buble, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and (oddly enough) Barbra Streisand for relaxing morning music

And will white man boogie with a comically bit lip if they quietly, affectionately look at him for long enough

Speaking of: despite his best efforts, as he starts to wake up, he’ll grow increasingly jokey and self-aware (but soft lil’ earnest boy always comes back eventually)

Will take all the trash and recycling out in one clean go, tucking shit between his bent elbows and under his chin; He’s not afraid of a challenge yes he can fucking do it by himself NO SHUT UP HE’S GOT IT

His partner hears the clang of soda cans falling on the pavement twelve seconds later

A Trader Joe’s BITCH

As much as he loves some sensory overload and a bajillion snack options, big supermarkets kinda overwhelm him

Also they’re always more expensive and this boy is a complainer (and if he can make his partner laugh while he’s dramatically whining, even better)

Literally the man who ACTIVELY LAUGHS at the names of products

“A Blueberry WALKS Into A Bar? Do you get that? BAR? Oh, that’s goddamn hilarious.”

And then will laugh for a good minute in the aisle; fuck the old people side-eyeing him from the dairy section

Overbuys groceries rather than underbuys; there’s a lot of food he doesn’t realize has gone bad until it’s actively going into his mouth

Expect to be investing in a good broom, because he constantly needs one

Will open a bag of frozen peas from the wrong side and all of a sudden he’s spilling the entire thing onto the hardwood floor

He just hangs his head with a long, forlorn sigh

God fucking dammit

And huffs before power-walking to the closet

But at least he’s used to it; he’s got a broom in every place he can hide one now

LOVES to cook, but that doesn’t mean he’s good at it

Probably just likes the theatrics: catch him in double oven mitts and a dozen hand towels at the ready and a novelty apron that says “spooned with love”, “rubs his own meat”, “mister good-lookin’ is cookin’”, or “license to grill”

King of wearing an apron and nothing else without telling; loves surprises and loves giving them almost as much; and will absolutely play coy about it (“I’m just baking out here!! What are you screaming about?”)

Relatedly, loves stealing his partner’s shirts without telling, especially if they’re too small

“Baby tees are for big, strong babies like me.” “But you’re gonna stretch mine out!” “Heh-heh. Nice.”

Is a fucking sucker for any sort of gender role switch, but also can’t help the flutter in his heart when he sees his partner doing his laundry

It’s the intimacy of another person touching his clothes and wanting them to be soft for him; loves if they have to reach kinda high to hang them up in his closet, too

Fucking loves to make love to his partner— and yes he loves the phrase “make love”, leave him alone— or hell, do anything to them while the washer is going on heavy duty wash cycle

Somehow related, but is a hippie at the best of times. Women got off using washing machines before there was anything else and it’s a part of history and now they are too and isn’t it beautiful we’re not all so different isn’t life and history beautiful

Loves smoking weed once there’s a lengthy enough break with his partner, coughs and needs water every time (“nah, I don’t need it” — starts hacking to fucking death)

Loves a local mall trip: J Crew, Abercrombie & Fitch, and REI are his go-tos; he always needs an excuse to go out

“Jeez, is this what the kids are wearing these days?” in any store that isn’t those three

Every time there’s a big ad of a hot guy in a canoe or a girl smiling so hard it looks like her teeth are gonna pop out, he loves to outlandishly mimic their expression to make his partner laugh

Touchy, clingy, whiney 🥺; uses a body pillow and weighted blankets when he has to spend the night by himself

Needs to be the small spoon (at minimum) once a week, otherwise he gets sad and grumpy but isn't quite sure why

“Let’s get some new furniture.” “What? We have Ikea right next door! I can just make it!”

Drills a hole too big or loses the most important screw and has to go buy new furniture anyway

Adores above all else impromptu massages: whether it’s on the couch or in the bedroom when he’s on his belly watching TV; moans more shamelessly during those than he even does during sex

Those massages often turn into him begging his partner to ride him… or he just fucking falls asleep

By the way, will fall asleep in any position or location you could possibly think of; a habit from his childhood when he didn't have a bed to sleep in

Snores and drools, but not loud or wet enough to be too annoying

2 in 1 shampoo. One bar of soap.

Unless of course he’s all out or… curious about what delicious-smelling shit his partner has; maybe it’s like the reverse of when a dog pees on something to claim it. Something like that.

Get. him. flowers. His favorites are daffodils.

Really into helping out in his community: soup kitchen, pet shelters, planting trees or veggie seeds for community gardens— and then will abruptly stop because he’s tired and doesn’t feel like doing it anymore

Until the next summer when he sporadically goes — “You know what we should do?!”

King of late-night karaoke bars (especially if he gets wasted and busts into a weepy song that totally kills the mood)

On the same note, a big musical theatre lover. Wine and dine him!

Loves a dog, wants a dog, needs a dog

Never fucking trains or reprimands the dog but whatcha gonna do

Gets both super shy and vulnerable and horny when he's actively referred to as a “husband” ; loves a good big business partner/house husband roleplay (whether horny or just a joke)

Please, oh god please, do shortform improv with him every time he starts doing a bit

Living with Nathan isn’t always easy, or frankly cheap, but is so fucking gentle and so fucking happy, that you can no longer imagine a world where your life was anything but 🌼💙🗺️

If you hurt him, OP (and Sully) are out for BLOOD.

#nathan drake #nathan drake x reader #uncharted #uncharted 4: a thief's end #uncharted headcanons #SHEA WRITES BABYYYYY #i wrote this months ago ive just finally decided to put some content out into this dead greying fandom i love so much #imo mary and ria cant be the only ones holding it up #prepare for content my lovers <3

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musings-ofthe-unamused · 1 year

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JuJutsu Kaisen Headcanons: Getting Heated

Warnings: NSFW, suggestive, Gojo

A/N: Ok surprise I said I would only do Genshin and COD headcanons but I decided to do JJK as well since I'm in my JJK brainrot era too

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.: 18+ ONLY!! MDNI!!! :･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

GIF by hq-kurootetsurou

Gojo:

I feel like he's the type to beg

You two are making out on bed

You're almost pulled into his lap

He starts to get handsy and kisses right below your ear

"Baby, I want more. Can we do it? Please?"

His voice is so breathy and he's practically whining

“C’mon, baby.” Gojo breathed, his tongue running up the length of your neck. “Just let me-"

“Gojo-"

It wasn't easy to ignore him. His tongue, his lips, his whimpering. It sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but lean into him. He let out a small whimper that was almost too quiet to hear. “Let me taste you. Please.”

GIF by nightlessmoon

Geto:

He can’t help it

He loves how you feel, sitting on his lap as he lounges back and has meaningless conversations with you

You’re just so cute and so… talkative

He wants to shut you up. Be more productive

His hand slowly travels up your thigh

He starts placing kisses along your neck

And you just keep talking

Geto's hand reached up, wrapping around your neck. He pulled you gently backwards until your back hit his chest. “Stop talking.”

His free hand traveled up your shirt, his fingers squeezing and kneading your soft skin. You stuttered as you tried to keep focus. It was no use. He had you wrapped around his finger.

GIF by theanomalouskid

Nanami:

Yes, we all have the same idea in mind

Nanami coming home from a hard day and looking for stress relief

His perfect little partner is right there, excited to welcome their man home

You can see the look in his eyes

How hungry he is

So you obviously do your best to get rid of his stress

Nanami let out a breath as your hands traveled down his bare chest. Your lips pressed against his smooth skin. You could feel his heartbeat, how his breath hitched with every movement. You loved making him like this.

"You're so good to me, precious." He murmured. He ran his hands through your hair. "You just love treating me, don't you?"

You hummed happily. Your hands made it to the buttons of his pants. "You know I only aim to please."

GIF by hexpea

Choso:

I bet he's surprisingly shy

The type to try and initiate stuff, but he doesn't know how

Choso always has a telltale sign: tugging on your sleeve

It's kinda gap moe and totally cute

You'll just be cuddling together and suddenly you feel a little tug

You shifted as Choso tugged on your sleeve, pulling you closer to him. Your eyes stayed glued to the TV, but your hands slowly wandered over to him. You could feel him let out a breath as he leaned closer. He whispered your name.

"Baby…" You looked over at him and smirked. "What do you need?"

"You."

"Come here."

GIF by fallinblossoms

Toji:

This man is horny

Like, endless stamina

Hungry, hungry man

It doesn't matter where you are

He's trying to feel you up even in the aisle of the grocery store

Please spray him in the face

"Toji, touch my ass one more time and-"

"And you'll let me hit it?"

You smacked his arm. "Don't be vulgar!"

He laughed and wrapped his arms around your waist as you pushed the shopping cart down the frozen food aisle. You so wished that a gun was pressing against your lower back and not him. Toji smirked as you tensed up. He kissed your neck.

"Just a quickie."

GIF by mah1to

Sukuna:

deep breath

AAAAAAAAAAA

He doesn't ask for it

He demands it

I'm talking Heian era Sukuna

Grabbing you, tearing your clothes

Ruthless

"Look at you." Sukuna's voice was deep, making your whole body vibrate. "Already so eager for me."

You tried looking away. He wasn't having it. With a firm grip on your chin, he forced your gaze back to him. His other hands were busy trying to expose every single part of you.

"Don't look away. You're mine, remember? Keep your eyes on me."

GIF by cyberparadis

Shiu Kong:

I have a thing for him

He seems pathetic but also really confident

You'll be sitting next to him in a bar

His hand is on your thigh

Going higher… higher… and suddenly

You're in the bar bathroom

"C'mon, doll. Be good for me." He whispered, smoke grazing your ear after he took a puff of his cigarette.

You were bent over the bathroom sink. His hands were unbuttoning your shirt. They were slightly shaky as if he was desperate to have you. You push your hips back into him and he let out a groan.

"Cheeky little thing, hm?"

(I can't find a gif for naoya sorr)

Naoya:

Don't judge me

I saw really hot fanart of him and something snapped

We all have our moments

Anyway, I feel like he's a tease

He'll make you work for it

Work for him

And then he'll finally give you what you want

Naoya smirked down at you. You looked so cute, so pathetic trying to fumble with his belt. Just one simple kiss after he got home from a trip and you're already on your knees, just begging to please him. He loved it.

"Look at how needy you are. Do you really want me that bad?"

You nodded. You couldn't even speak. Your eyes lit up as you finally undo his belt.

He chuckled. "Go ahead. Please me."

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ena341polaris · 3 months

Text

Why the Artw boys would suck as a roommate

Arcturus:

Arcturus loves cooking and everything hes makes tastes great! But that also means he would make your apartment an ingredients household... want a bag of chips? None! Make it from scratch! Just wat a simple meal that doesnt require cooking? Too bad! All you have is a frozen slab of steak and bell peppers. Also dishes would pile up so quickly and ants would be a huge problem.

Arcturus would definitely bring in lots of stray animals (not that helping strays is a bad thing!) But every weekend, you would be on the couch doing whatever and suddenly arcturus comes barreling through the door with 100 squirrels that have rabies. And Arcturus would be like "No it's okay! I've only gotten bitten 40000 times!" And you'd be like "Arcturus we need to go to the ER now".

Also Arcturus is the type of guy to sleep next to you without you knowing (as proven in his card Spring curve) at first it would be adorable. Until it's the middle of the summer, it's hot and this fluffy ginger boy is sleeping on top of you like a weighted and heated blanket. Which basically means you will get cooked alive from being snuggled up to Arcky. (But tbh I would love to go out like that)

Spica

Spica is probably the boy equivalent of a beige mom. Everything is white, carpet, walls, tiles maybe a little tan or grey but mostly a sleek white. Which is aesthetic until you start feeling the effects of white room torture kick in.

Spica has suuuupppeeeerrrr long hair as we know and he would probably leave hair everywhere! Not that it would be intentional but also since his hair is so long it would get on everything he also probably has like 100 hair products taking up most of the shower. Also your house would smell like strong black coffee grounds 24/7 not matter what you did. Febreeze? Nope, didnt work. Opening the windows? Still smells like coffee.

Speaking of coffee, he doesnt sleep much. Which means when your getting you beauty rest Spica is up in the kitchen making his 725th coffee of today. Hes also very busy, hes always on a computer writing and there are files cabinets everywhere, Like absolutely everywhere. You find paperclips in the fridge and pens and pencils between the couch cushions. He would also probably be very bossy, forgot your homework? Spica lives in your household just waiting to scold you for it 😅.

Alpheratz

Hes sleeping all of the time. Like all of the time. He probably doesn't do many chores himself but that probably wouldn't matter because he would hire a maid to do it all. He would also 100% fall asleep on top of you keeping you trapped for god only knows how long. He would also never cook, he would. A: Get fast food B: Beg you to do it or C: hire a chef.

But honestly I feel like Alpheratz would be a good roommate otherwise.

Pollux

You see Pollux could be a good roommate. He seriously could be... if it wasnt for his luck. He could be cleaning dishes and the house would catch on fire. Speaking of houses catching on fire, Pollux doesn't know how to cook and he would probably light the house on fire. Multiple times. Pollux could be looking out the window and suddenly all the power goes out. Hes also a lil broke boy, so he definitely would not be paying a lot of bills. He would also probably blast anime music in his room for multiple hours at a time.

And Castor would probably break into your apartment every now in then to bother you or Pollux. I also feel like Pollux would start accidentally calling you mom and embarrassing you when people come over. He also would ask you for lots of money.

Vega

Honestly, I feel like Vega would be a very clean, quiet and calm roommate. He would cook, pay bills, do whatever you expect a good roomate to do. But I feel like Vega, if he moved in with you, would start being very affectionate. Not like a "hi... your pretty" I feel like he would become much more possessive and get mad whenever your brought Sirius over or another guy. He also literally states in his lines that he wants to monopolize you. So for him, you being his roomate essentially means he gets to hang out with you whenever, even when your busy doing something like dishes. He would walk up to you and start talking to you a lot.

Sirius

We can all agree by default that Sirius is a very creepy and flirty roomate. He would break into your bedroom in the middle of the night to scare you or just bother you. He would steal your soaps in the bathroom, he would basically do all these little things to get you a little upset with him. Despite that, he would pay the bills after you begged him to enough. He would cook (not as good as Arcky but still, he would)

He would definitely turn into random animals or into the household pet if you had one just to get your attention. Also say goodbye to privacy because now that you live with him he wants to know everything about you, what your doing and where your going. All of that. Also he probably runs a mafia so theres probably going to be lots of random scary looking people appearing without warning. Hes also going to be very flirty, I'll let you decide if that's a pro or a con.

He would also try to get you to do some sort of rituals with him or something like that.

Note: I made this at 11 at night so if theres spelling mistakes tell me in the comments

#arcana twilight #arcana twilight sirius #arcana twilight alpheratz #arcana twilight arcturus #arcana twilight spica #arcana twilight vega #arcana twilight mc #arcana twilight oc #arcana twilight pollux #artw

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goteique · 17 days

Text

| INTO MY KALIEDISCOPES ( part three ) + SUGISHITA KYOTARO !

+cw. — fem!reader, fluff, comfort, domesticity,pinning.

+wc. — 1k

+syn.— Sugishita Kyotaro was always the first target for every impromptu plan that Umemiya made while you were Kotoha's. Naturally, when they both made plans you and Sugishita had to face each other again.

+notes. — this is for the flufftober ‘fond moments’ collab event for prompt: date night hosted by @spookuna. m\dni cuz me iz eighteen plus blog. this is part of a mini drabble series that can be read as stand alone. | redirect to blog navigation.

The shop that was suggested by both Haji-kun and Koto-chan is the same shop that popped up in Google Maps when you searched for “grocery stores near me.” but now that you are finally here you can tell why it was so hard to locate the shop, even for google. The town guide, Sugishita, who is accompanying you was not much of a help. Besides, talking with him is still a boat you had yet to set foot on let alone sail on it. Never in the worst nightmares you had expected to run into him, again, after that embarrassing date night.

The shop is almost empty except for the staff at the cash counter who is practically dozing off. It is already quite late at night so you do not see a reason to blame him especially because Makochi is a forlorn town. No shop is ever too crowded to come back home empty-handed. Haji-kun wanted to have a barbeque night; naturally, Hiragi was busy helping him, more like cleaning the mess he left behind after he was done with something, as always. Kotoha, Sakura, Nirei, and Suo are helping with the setup while Kaji and Tsubaki have gone to invite others, especially the members of Shishitoren and the people at show pub Ougi bar. As a result of these patiently concocted coincidences You and Sugishita were the only two people left with nothing to do but one of the most important responsibilities: “grocery shopping.”

A heavy sigh escapes from your chest as you lay your eyes on the entire display of products while standing in front of the fridge. Vibrant in color compared to the other parts of this dull silent shop, it piqued your interest first even though it is the utmost corner. The ground shelf of the fridge, which extends from one end of the shop to the nook of the staircase which would possibly lead to the second floor, is filled with dairy products. The shelf above it is filled with frozen foods and various types of treats with different tastes like salty, spicy, sweets, and alcoholic; the last, the uppermost shelf is filled with a wide variety of chocolates. Your concern is the middle section but the level above it is the most tempting. You pick a bunch of packets from the frozen foods section and look by your right side.

Oh god! Where did this boy run off to now? He was following you like a stray puppy just a while ago. With the shopping cart in between the two of you, it felt like he was light years apart every time you turned back to keep anything inside it. You look around unable to spot him, slowly sinking into a rabbit hole of distraught since without him you would be lost in Makochi. You would not be able to go back without him. Relying on the phone? That’s pretty useless here. The network is bad besides you do not have anyone’s number except Kotoha and even if you did make a call she would be busy in the preparations of barbeque mostly probably unable to take the call . . . Oh God! Why did Haji-kun have to send you in the middle of nowhere. . . ?

A metallic screech sucks you out of your puddle of thoughts. You look in the direction of the source and a nonchalant Sugishita appears emerging from another section of the rack that has a lot of mangas, magazines, and books, by standing on the bar of the shopping cart while hunching his upper body to balance his weight, skidding it till he comes to a halt in front of you. His head turns up towards you, eyes blinking: one, twice, thrice before he straightens himself up to stand properly. He stands looking at the fridge, the cart in between you two as you inspect him for a few seconds. He is not hunching like he usually does around Umme! The inner flesh of your bottom lip faces a rough distortion against your teeth while you empty your hands into the cart. It already had drinks, soda cans, and different types of sauces neatly kept. It felt illegal to dump those packets messily into that apple pie setup but when there was a slow appearance of a visible crease along his eyebrows the pit guilt was now filled with surprise and . . . joy perhaps.

“Alright fine,” You chime with an ear-to-ear smile jocking down to keep those packets of frozen foods in a well-ordered manner. The dull buzz of the air conditioner, the sharp ‘clicks’ when the rotating fans switch its direction, the crinkle of plastic packets inside the cart as you organize it, the low even syncing breaths of you two; then a gruff unfiltered voice turns up in a weak whisper, “This almost feels like a date night, wouldn’t you agree? ” and then, his hand on yours. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. You knew this was coming. You were . . . supposed to be prepared for this. It was you who avoided him at first. It was you who created an awkward situation like this. The fact that you saw him under those dim yellow lights in such an intimate manner does not help either. Those moments so unadulterated keep coming back to you in situations like this in flashes. It makes you close your eyes, and blink rashly to be back in all sorts of coherence.

You look up slowly. His face is close, too close not to do anything—kiss or touch— your forehead against his, rub your cheeks against his. By now your fingers have found a home in between his fingers. He shoves his right hand into his pocket pulling out a half-eaten chocolate out of it and keeping it inside the cart. You feel a strong urge to smile but instead, wet your bottom lip rubbing the back of his palm with your lonely thumb that was not interlaced with his yet.

“Would you like to start over?”

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beautifullache · 6 months

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🦄The Sims 4🦄

🍉Grocery Store Bundle🍍

💕EARLY RELEASE💕

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Customer Lead

Customer Service Leader

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Center Store Lead

Sales Associate Cashier

Frozen Food Dairy Associate

Cake Decorator

Deli Bakery Sales Associate

Allow Teens

Allow Young Adults

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Allow Elders

Harris Teeter

Harris Teeter Supermarkets, LLC., also known as Harris Teeter Neighborhood Food & Pharmacy, is an American supermarket chain based in Matthews, North Carolina, a suburb of Charlotte. As of February 2024, the chain operates 259 stores in seven South Atlantic states and Washington, D.C.

Cashier

Assistant Dairy/Frozen Manager

Deli Bakery Clerk

Meat Clerk

Grocery Manager

Produce Clerk

Personal Shopper

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Lowes Foods

Founded in 1954, Lowes Foods employs approximately 9,000 people and operates nearly 100 full-service supermarkets in North Carolina, South Carolina and Virginia. Locally owned and operated, Lowes Foods is truly a homegrown company committed to bringing community back to the table, by providing customers with the freshest and most innovative local products from local suppliers. The company maintains a strong focus on exceptional attention to our guests, with services like Lowes Foods-To-Go personal shopping and gas rewards discounts. To learn more, visit lowesfoods.com or follow Lowes Foods on Facebook or Twitter. Lowes Foods, LLC is a wholly owned subsidiary of Alex Lee, Inc.

Grocery Stocker

Personal Shopper

Deli Clerk

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Dairy/Frozen Stocker

Cake Decorator

Allow Teens

Allow Young Adults

Allow Adults

Allow Elders

Sam's Club

Sam’s Club is home to more than 100,000 associates in more than 660 locations all working together to provide great service and value to our members. By providing innovative products, a shopping experience infused with digital solutions such as Scan & Go and Club Pickup and support to the communities we serve, we truly differentiate our company in the marketplace. The constant pursuit to surprising and delight our members drives our business every day.

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Team Lead

Personal Shopper

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Freezer, Cooler and Deli Stocker Associate

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Walmart

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Auto Care Center

Fuel Station

Health & Wellness

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maxwell-grant · 2 years

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PIZZA TOWER Characters ranked by how good they actually are at making pizza:

Gustavo: 5/10, 6/10 if he really puts his back into it. 9/10 if he’s making chocolate pizza which he doesn’t anymore, since it’s bad for Brick

In theory he SHOULD be the best pizzamaker of the bunch, unlike Peppino he clearly isn’t undergoing ten mental breakdowns per minute and he’s got an actual apron, plus he’s the only one we see delivering pizzas to satisfied customers in-game in the Gnome Forest. But since nothing in the game currently seems to indicate he has a pizza business, I’m going with a headcanon that Gustavo actually specializes in pastries and sweets, which is why he can seemingly keep himself in the Freezer level where all pizzas freeze solid. He does enjoy eating pizza, but Brick eats all the cheese in the house before he can even think about making one for himself.

Mr Stick: 2/10

Mr Stick has been subsisting on cheap takeout for decades now and cannot be trusted near an oven, or near a grill, or near a kitchen period, Peppino just lets him into his to keep him away from the cash register. If you ask him to make a pizza, he will charge a stupidly high amount just for heating up frozen calabrese. Still ranked higher than other characters only because he probably still makes pizza that’s marginally edible, as he definitely won’t want to risk a lawsuit by making you sick.

Pepperman: 8/10 if you really like peppers, 1/10 if you have a pepper allergy or just don’t like them

Pepperman point-blank refuses to be anything other than completely and totally excellent at everything he sets out to do, others not agreeing with his vision of what excellence is (mainly himself) is quite frankly not his problem, and he ESPECIALLY refuses to let himself be outdone by that wretched brute of a chef. Pepperman taught himself pizza-making out of spite purely so he could outdo Peppino, and he’s actually kinda great at it? Spite IS the perennial driving force of most of Pizza Tower’s characters after all. But obviously he doesn’t know, and doesn’t care to learn, about making any kind of pizza that isn’t stuffed full of peppers. If he’s feeling charitable, he might bake you a pizza with his face on it, and then throw a tantrum if you defile it by eating it (only HE can eat his own face).

Vigilante: 1/10.

Vigi’s family business seems to specialize in dairy and I think for the most part he sees pizza as cheap grub for city slickers (getting beat up by Peppino was kind of a wound to his pride), the whole idea just kinda abominable. He’s also a sentient pile of cheese who wears dirty gloves all day, if he did try to make a pizza, it would probably taste like dust or gunpowder or even have bits of him in it. That being said, he throws a MEAN barbecue, if you can talk him into changing his gloves you should get him near a grill immediately.

The Noise: -100/10

Noise is not legally allowed to be in most pizza establishments by court order, and the Domino’s lawsuits were a massive pain to settle as is. The Noise just does not cook, period, but luckily for him he can eat basically anything. He’s paid to advertise food products and NTV has personalized energy drinks, but his main diet consists entirely of tequila and cigarettes 24/7, and dozens of doctors have diagnosed his insides as some kind of freakish medical emergency that should take effect but never will. He’s like Mr Burns, it just all cancels each other out.

Noisette: lmao good luck

Going by her comics in the wiki, Noisette is just completely incapable of making anything that isn’t sweets even when she tries, and the fact that she hangs around The Noise makes it so that she has no sensible parameter whatsoever for what’s edible or what’s gonna give someone explosive diarrhea. She does run a coffee shop with at least some customers in the cast, she’s probably fairly good at baking, but if you ask her to make a pizza, the best you can possibly hope for is that she just makes you unusually large crepes, and hope you don’t hear an ambulance in the distance before eating.

Fake Peppino: ?????

He’s about as good as Peppino, ironically enough, but it’s a 50/50 on whether you enjoy eating his pizza or his pizza enjoys eating you, but hanging around Peppino and the others at minimum has made the third outcome, that is him eating both you and the pizza, statistically less likely.

Pizzahead: 7/10 at first, score gets lower everytime you eat it again

He SELLS decent pizza, is the thing, but obviously he never has to make any of it himself, not when he has all these countless food businesses and mascots and cooks bending to his whim after he enslaved John and took over the tower. “Being good” at making pizza is a laughable concern to him, when he frankly never even has to try, when he can just sleep during your escape sequences while everyone else has to do the hard work. The entirety of the background in Don’t Make a Sound is a testament to his catastrophic carelessness, you literally find boxes saying the monsters were mail ordered by him, and how little consequences matter to him (I don’t buy the idea that he’s driven by any kind of jealously towards Peppino, so much as he just targeted Peppino mainly because he could).

Pizzahead’s pizza is the kind of pizza that you get hooked in at first, and then makes you feel kinda empty or sick afterwards after a point and makes you think you probably should have eaten something else, but you’re still coming back another day or week when you have no energy or money or time to cook or buy a decent meal, so pizza it is again, and it keeps tasting marginally greasier and shittier and more depressing everytime until at some point you can’t smell the damn thing without wanting to vomit, and you swear off pizza entirely until you wind up back there again and, hey, it’s tolerable this time, and then the process begins again, go ahead, eat Pizzahead's product, wageslave, maybe you’ll start liking it again soon enough, he makes all the dollars and you make a dime and that's why you vomit on company time.

Gerome and John: 10/10

Gerome is probably the only character in-game who keeps a clean kitchen considering his job, and John is some kind of weird god with teleporting powers and sub-dimensions tied to him, and also the secret ingredients Gerome has the keys to wind up resurrecting John, but mostly I think it’d be funny if the characters who would be the absolute best at making pizza would also be the ones who would most reasonably never want to have anything to do with pizza ever again. I like to imagine The Tower Brothers having these miracle recipes and magic touch that both Peppino and Pizzahead desperately want, able to make the most unfathomably delicious Anton-Ego-flashback-inducing pizzas ever conceived, pizza that tastes the way you thought it tasted as a kid but actually much better, and nobody will ever realize it and they will never even touch a pizza again after it ruined their lives and home.

Peppino:

5/10. 6/10, if he really puts his back into it.

Yeah, it’s okay, Peppino’s probably an okay chef. Peppino as a chef is kinda like Mario and plumbing: you know it’s what he’s supposed to do, he sells an identity tied up to it, but you never actually see him do it, you see him doing literally everything except his job and you just kinda have to assume that he's good enough at it. Peppino’s pizzas are probably the most normal thing about him, and maybe the only normal thing about him, really.

He does manage to convince the Bosses to not kick his ass in exchange for free pizza, which means said pizza has gotta be at least somewhat tasty, but also, his place is a dump in the middle of nowhere, he can’t afford proper kitchen wear, he scavenges ingredients in the wild without hygiene concerns and getting his greasy hands all over them, he doesn’t have any staff and runs himself ragged doing everything solo, everything he touches tends to be destroyed in some fashion, he has zero patience, and by now he’s gotta have some kind of pizza-related trauma or several hundred after everything that the game put him through.

I kinda like to think Peppino, in spite of everything stacked against him and how fiercely he fought to defend his business, is ultimately a mediocre but decent chef, who happens to be an unstoppably gifted wrecking ball of a fighter (and talented dancer), who really just wants to keep being a chef in peace, and peace is the last thing he ever gets.

#pizza tower #peppino #peppino spaghetti #the noise #pepperman #gustavo and brick #gustavo #noisette #mr stick #the vigilante #headcanon

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timetoletmyimaginationfly · 5 months

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Our Love Story

Nanami Kento x Reader

Part 7: Don’t Lift A Finger, Love

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

(Song Inspiration: Love Someone by Jason Mraz)

Nanami decided to go to your place after his shift. He was glad that he was able to leave early. He has been very grateful to Gojo and Geto since they offer to finish missions for him so he can return to you on time.

You and Nanami go back and forth to each other’s places. It started off slow, keeping a toothbrush in each other’s places after you fell asleep at his apartment after studying one night. He even bought you clothes, facial and specific hair products, toiletries, and even make up to keep at his place. And when Nanami finished his shift, he slowly brought his things over to keep at yours.

He did his normal thing when he came back. Shoes were off, blunt sword against the wall, glasses on the table, sleeves rolled up halfway, top buttons undone, and tie hanging loosely around his neck. He found you in your kitchen, studying intensely for your final.

You were busy this past month. In a few days, you will take your final and your ceremony was a couple of weeks later. You’ve been going to reviews for your NCLEX and tutoring for your sessions. Along with that, you still worked your full time hours at the hospital. He made sure he came back home to you. He made sure you ate, either bringing home food or cooking something he planned for you throughout the day. He did more than you needed him to do. But you knew that he would be stubborn to listen to you when you were swamped to take care of yourself. You always tell them you were alright before he starts doing what he was going to do anyway. You were slowly getting used to him doing anything and everything for you.

“Sweetheart?” You didn’t react. And when he walked closer to you, he could hear the music blasting from your head phones. He pulled it them off your head, making you jump. When you turned around, you smiled widely.

“Kento-kun! Did you just get back?” you asked. Nanami nodded. “How was work?”

“Good,” he answered and took a seat next to you. “Gojo-san and Geto-san took over my last mission.”

“They’re too good to you,” you said and kissed his lips.

“Are you working tonight?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I took vacation for two weeks.” Nanami smiled and you can see that he was relieved. He leaned in and kissed your forehead tenderly.

“Good,” he said. “You have been nonstop. As much as I want you to take a break, I love that your hard work is paying off. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” You just want to cry happily from his words.

“You really mean it?” you asked. Nanami nodded. “Okay, let me be for a bit. I’m almost done with these practice questions.”

“Okay, my love. I’ll make us dinner.”

He kissed your lips, yet your body felt frozen. You couldn’t help but let his new pet name for you repeat in your head. It was usually sweetheart, darling, or sometimes dear. Never had he said love. As you placed your headphones back on, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more meaning to the name. It almost made it hard for you to concentrate.

You couldn’t stop smiling as you were studying. Nanami couldn’t help but do the same thing whenever he looked up at you. He feels at peace when you smile. Your smile is his favorite sight.

“Break time!”

“Food is almost done. I made katsudon,” he said. Your mouth watered. You’ve been craving it for a while now. You put your school supplies away in your living room. You entered the kitchen and started to quickly wash the dishes, but when Nanami saw what you were doing, he immediately wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you away. You laughed. “Do not lift a finger, my love. I want you to relax.”

You blushed as he brought you to the chair. You sat down and watched him prepare the dish. You watched his back as he was by the stove finishing dinner. You watched him turn on the electric kettle and setting up two tea cups and two teabags. You watched him set up two bowls and he walked over to you with a smile. The smell of dinner made your stomach rumble.

“Thank you, Kento-kun! You are seriously the best.”

“Anything for my girl,” he said and turned back around to grab the two tea cups. You patiently waited for him. Once he sat down, the two of you grabbed your chopsticks and ate. “Is it good, love?” You nodded.

“It’s amazing,” you said. “You make the best meals.”

“Is it missing anything?” he asked curiously. He takes your criticisms seriously. He wanted to make the meals perfect just for you.

“Not this one,” you said. “Maybe more onions but I also loooove onions with this dish.” Nanami took a mental note of it for next time. You looked at him. “But you don’t have to.”

“I want you to have the best,” he said. Your heart wanted to leap out of your chest.

“I love you,” you said.

You and Nanami froze. You quickly turned back around and took a sip of your tea. Nanami watched you, letting those three words sink in. He couldn’t help but smile. He placed his hand on your thigh which got you to turn around and look at him. Nanami stood up and cupped your face.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” You smiled widely. You grabbed his tie and pulled him in to kiss him. The kiss was long, tongues battling each other, with Nanami gently nibbling and sucking on your bottom lip. Once he heard your soft moan, he pulled away. He gazed at your dazed and soft eyes before kissing your forehead. “I love you so much.”

After dinner was finished, Nanami quickly took the bowls to the sink before you could clean up. He held your hand and lead you to the couch, telling you to relax.

“I’m not disabled,” you said, slightly teasingly. Nanami kissed your forehead.

“I know. I just don’t want you to lift a finger tonight,” he said, face stoic yet voice so soft it makes your heart leap with joy.

“Then in that case, I will shower and get ready for the night.” Nanami let out a small smile and kissed your lips. “You’re very kissy tonight.”

“You’re just very kissable,” he said. “Go shower. I’ll go right after you, love.” You nodded, skipping your way to the bathroom.

He found you in bed, laptop on your lap and your iPad filled with notes in your hand. He awed at the sight while leaning against the doorway after his shower. His towel remained around his waist. You looked up and turned to look at him. Your eyes widened and you blushed as you turned your attention back to your computer.

“Studying hard again?” he asked. You gave him a high-pitched hum in response. Nanami picked out his clothes and walked back to the bathroom to change. Your hand was on your racing heart. You let dirty thoughts consume your mind.

“Love, do you want tea?” he asked.

“I’m good for now,” you answered flustered. Nanami nodded and joined you in bed. He took his book from the nightstand and started reading. “So…what is it that you love about me?” Nanami placed a book mark in his book and closed it, putting it back on the night table.

“You being you,” he answered nonchalantly. He watched you react irritably with his reaction. He quietly chuckled to himself before pulling you closer to him, your laptop slipping off your lap and falling to the side of the bed.

“Now is not the time to be cliche with that short answer,” you said with pouty lips. Nanami kissed the top of your head.

"You're smart and beautiful. You prefer to be independent and I love that you let me in your life and allow me to help you. Unlike me, you like to go with the flow of things. You don't exactly plan things out and usually I hate that, but I love it with you. I never planned to keep you close in my life. I was just going to keep it at that after you bought me coffee and bread.”

“I honestly thought the same thing. Then you called me. Checked up on me. Why’d you do that?” Nanami shrugged.

“I felt like I had to. I knew I didn’t have to. With me being a sorcerer, I couldn’t let you in my life. But since I kept letting you in, I at least had to give you an option, right?” You nodded. “You make me happy. When I see you, I feel the tiredness go away the moment I see you smile. When I see you work hard, it makes me want to become a better sorcerer, that way I can protect you. I love everything about you.” You smiled. You held his hand tightly and rested your head on his shoulder.

“You don’t find me like I’m some kind of child right?”

“Not at all. Why? You think a five year age gap is too much?”

“I-I was just curious.” Nanami chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

“Your turn.”

“You’re a serious and stoic man with the biggest heart in the world,” you said. “When I talk to Gojo-san and Geto-san, they love talking about you to me. You’re so caring to the young sorcerers. You make me proud that you are one. You get to be their mentor and they get to fight in battle like you. And I know I never seen you fight, but I don’t have to see to know that you’re one of the best.” Nanami felt a burst of happiness when you said that. “And I love that you’re true to word and actions. You’re honest and loyal. Everything about you is just amazing.” You couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. Something about them sparkled. Nanami rested his forehead on yours, gently caressing your one cheek.

“Thank you,” he said and kissed you softly.

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #nanami jjk #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #nanami fanfic #nanami #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic

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anamericangirl · 4 months

Note

If the workers themselves do not directly control the means of production, such as the land and the machines used to produce food and other machines, then it is not a communist society.

If the state does not directly control the means of production, then it is not a socialist society.

If neither the state nor the workers directly own the means of production, but instead the means of production are owned by business owners and share holders, then you have a capitalist society.

These are the basic economic principles that define the difference between socialism, communism, and capitalism.

Now lets look at Nazi economic policy, with key points of interest in bold.

After the Nazis took power, industries were privatized en masse. Several banks, shipyards, railway lines, shipping lines, welfare organizations, and more were privatized. The Nazi government took the stance that enterprises should be in private hands wherever possible. State ownership was to be avoided unless it was absolutely necessary for rearmament or the war effort, and even in those cases "the Reich often insisted on the inclusion in the contract of an option clause according to which the private firm operating the plant was entitled to purchase it." However, the privatization was "applied within a framework of increasing control of the state over the whole economy through regulation and political interference," as laid out in the 1933 Act for the Formation of Compulsory Cartels, which gave the government a role in regulating and controlling the cartels that had been earlier formed in the Weimar Republic under the Cartel Act of 1923. These had mostly regulated themselves from 1923 to 1933.

The month after being appointed Chancellor, Hitler made a personal appeal to German business leaders to help fund the Nazi Party for the crucial months that were to follow. He argued that the experience of Weimar Republic had shown that "'private enterprise cannot be maintained in the age of democracy.' Business was founded above all on the principles of personality and individual leadership. Democracy and liberalism led inevitably to Social Democracy and Communism." In the following weeks, the Nazi Party received contributions from seventeen different business groups, with the largest coming from IG Farben and Deutsche Bank. Many of these businesses continued to support Hitler even during the war and even profited from persecution of the Jews. The most infamous being firms like Krupp, IG Farben, and some large automobile manufacturers. Historian Adam Tooze writes that the leaders of German business were therefore "willing partners in the destruction of political pluralism in Germany." In exchange, owners and managers of German businesses were granted unprecedented powers to control their workforce, collective bargaining was abolished and wages were frozen at a relatively low level. Business profits also rose very rapidly, as did corporate investment.

The Nazis granted millions of marks in credits to private businesses. Many businessmen had friendly relations to the Nazis, most notably with Heinrich Himmler and his Freundeskreis der Wirtschaft. Hitler's administration decreed an October 1937 policy that "dissolved all corporations with a capital under $40,000 and forbade the establishment of new ones with a capital less than $200,000," which swiftly effected the collapse of one-fifth of all small corporations. On July 15, 1933 a law was enacted that imposed compulsory membership in cartels, while by 1934 the Third Reich had mandated a reorganization of all companies and trade associations and formed an alliance with the Nazi regime. Nonetheless, the Nazi regime was able to close most of Germany's stock exchanges, reducing them "from twenty-one to nine in 1935," and "limited the distribution of dividends to 6 percent." By 1936 Germany decreed laws to completely block foreign stock trades by citizens. These moves showed signs of Antisemitism and a move toward a war economy, with the belief that the stock market was being operated by Jews.

From this it is clear to see that Nazi economy does not fit into any of the previous categories of socialist, communist, or capitalist. While the Nazi party started as a greatly capitalist industry, it did eventually move towards more government control, to which it had previously been the antithesis of. However, It also employed Union Busting to stop the expansion of workers rights, much like as occurred in America at the same time, and froze wages, much as America has done these past 20 years. But to say Nazis are socialist, is historically factually incorrect, as many businesses that were privatized continued to thrive unimpeded.

As much as I appreciate your ability to copy and paste from wikipedia, you should know that wikipedia is actually not the definitive source on this issue. It's not like anyone can just go on there and edit it lol. If everything you know comes from wikipedia that explains why you don't know much.

Look, I've already thoroughly responded to all these points and I'm not going to keep having the same argument with people who can only repeat themselves or copy and paste from wikipedia without actually responding to what I say.

You do not understand how "privatization" worked in Nazi Germany but you should do some reading about it. You can read the wikipedia page on the term "Gleichschaltung" to get you started.

Anyway, your privately owned business isn't really privately owned if it has to follow certain rules set by the regime and can be shut down by them if you don't support them or break their rules.

It's historically factual to say the Nazis were socialist because they were and you only having the understanding of the different economic systems that don't go any deeper than a google definition and not knowing how "privatization" worked in Nazi Germany and the fact that you can't discuss this issue if you can't copy/paste your entire argument from wikipedia hardly makes a case against that fact.

Only people who are liars or historically ignorant say the Nazis weren't socialists.

#anon #answered

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arazialotis · 1 year

Text

Get Him to the Con - Part 6

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: About 7600

Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Warnings: Language, Mutual Pining, A very mild jalapeno pepper in the beginning

Although this is an RPF, it is a character I created and should not reflect back IRL. I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as coping skill. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

-----

Sunlight filtered into the room through sheer curtains blowing in the gentle breeze. Birds chirped outside, greeting the day with a chorus of melodies. A peaceful sigh brushed the back of your neck. An arm wrapped around you, holding you close to the solid form behind you. A hand bordered on the edge of your shirt that must have ridden up during the night. Another grazed the back of your bare thigh, and another pressed hard against your ass. A soft moan escaped past your lips as you pressed further into it. You would have been content to stay here forever. Wait! Your eyes shot wide open. That was one too many hands.

You jolted from bed, now fully awake. Jensen grumbled but rolled over to the other side, not ready yet to face the day. Thankfully, it gave you enough time to get your shit together. Where were your pajama bottoms? You were a notorious chronic stripper. Always starting the night off with too many layers because you were cold, but as you started to warm up, thus commenced the unconscious removal of layers. It didn’t help that Jensen was hot. Like, temperature-wise. The guy was a fucking furnace. You weren’t concerned last night about it because you thought you’d be too anxious to sleep at all. Turns out you were so very wrong. Hopefully, he hadn’t noticed.

Jensen sniffed, and the sheets rustled as he turned onto his back. The bedding became tented near the area you had believed was his third hand. Change of plans. You abandoned looking for your missing pajamas and opted for jeans and a sweatshirt. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you left on a mission to find breakfast and coffee, sure Jensen would appreciate the privacy to tackle the obvious, albeit impressive, situation on his own.

The town was bigger than Lebanon, but not by much. At least it was walkable. The downtown had one restaurant but didn’t open until eleven. Traffic was busy on the main stretch of the road, filled with trucks, semis, and livestock trailers. Tires squelched through puddles and mud. Across the way, loud mariachi music called travelers to a pop-up tent where there was a line of hungry patrons waiting. An intoxicating aroma of spices broke through the smell of cattle. You eagerly went to join the queue.

Forty minutes of walking, waiting in line, and waiting for food seemed like an appropriate amount of time to give Jensen. On the way back, to Anthony’s credit, you did peek into one of the empty rooms, which was completely stripped of wallpaper, carpet, and wood paneling. The furniture was pushed to one corner and covered with a plastic tarp. You knocked on your motel door. Jensen answered, having changed into black jeans and a Family Business t-shirt tie-dyed with bleach. His hair looked so soft, still free of product. It was the most unkempt you’d seen him, yet you craved to see more of his natural state. How he would appear on a lazy Saturday morning with no one to impress.

It was another morning with more uncertainty of how to start the day, of what to say, of what to address. Both of you stood there frozen in time, staring at each other. Though the storm had broke last night, a new one began to brew in the spaces between. There was a need to feel clouds clash against each other, to feel the shake of thunder, to watch lightning flash in each other’s eyes. It wasn’t only you who felt the flush of heat; Jensen’s cheeks visibly reddened, lost in the memory of a dream, wishing it had been reality. At any moment, the clouds would break, and the floodgates would release. Thankfully, you had the perfect solution.

“Breakfast burrito?” You held up the heavy paper bag as a barrier between the two of you. “I didn’t know what kind you would want, so I got one of each. There’s eggs and potatoes, eggs and chorizo, veggies…”

---

Jensen had taken the entire leg of the journey yesterday, so you insisted on starting the drive today. You rushed through, getting ready and eating breakfast, eager to leave the creepy motel behind. There was a minor traffic jam on 36, but it lasted only twenty minutes, and you were flying down the road once more.

Jensen finished his last sip of coffee. “Didn’t we listen to Led Zeppelin all of Thursday?”

You gasped. “This is Greta Van Fleet, you uncultured swine.”

It took him a second, but he got there. “Did you just insult me with a line from Toy Story?”

“It’s a good line.” You defended, “Why reinvent the wheel?”

“Uncultured,” He scoffed. “I’m not the one listening to a cheap knock-off.”

You continued the playful banter. “You sound exactly like all those cake-eaters on Reddit whose only knowledge of musical theory stemmed from listening to Entry of the Gladiators too many times at clown school. I enjoy it so I’m going to listen to it. Fuck the pretentious haters.”

Jensen chuckled silently, shaking his shoulders. “You’ve been holding that in for a while.”

You nodded your confirmation.

“Entry of the Gladiators?” He asked for clarification.

You used a series of “da da das” to sound out the melody of the iconic circus theme music.

“Ah, of course,” He recognized it not even halfway into the first stanza. “Who wouldn’t know that had a title other than ‘circus music?’ Clown school,” He chuckled again. “I’m going have to steal that line for future use.”

“It’s going to cost ya.” You warned.

“What’s the price?” He questioned.

You took your eyes off the road, studying his face. His finger was brushing against his lower lip as if offering them up freely as compensation. A wave of anticipation coursed throughout your body, landing in your toes. As you leaned closer, testing if he would meet you, you chickened out instead and adjusted the volume before focusing back on the road.

“The price is your admission that this is actually a decent song and that you’re somewhat intrigued.” You settled.

Jensen had not yet pulled away from leaning in. “Oh, I’m intrigued, alright.” He admitted but was talking about an entirely unrelated matter.

It was not even two hours once you hit the Colorado border, but this entire trip had felt like a lifetime of trying to reach an unknown destination that was finally in sight. The wooden sign read ‘Welcome to Colorful Colorado.’ The car slowed to a stop on the road’s shoulder.

“Come on,” Jensen complained. “We’ve already taken a hundred pictures this trip.”

But you were already halfway out of the car, bounding into the tall grass and wildflowers to get closer to the sign. “We’ve taken three!”

“Be careful!” He warned. “You’re going to get bit by a rattlesnake or infested with ticks.”

“Well then, you better come over here and protect me. I'm sure a big, strong Texan such as yourself ain't afraid of no rattlesnake."

The grass swished against his calves as he came closer.

“As for the ticks,” You continued, bravery rising up. “We’ll have to turn on some country music and see what Brad Paisley advises for those.”

He raised his arm above his head, leaned against the wooden post, and looked down at you. The intensity of his gaze normally would have made you turn and run or, at the very least, create a distraction to diffuse the tension. Instead, you stepped closer, a whisper away from him. The sun shone through the gap between.

Gravel and tires met as another car slowed, pulling off the road behind yours. Three girls piled out of the car, laughing and squealing at each other. Fuck. You stepped away from him.

“Hey,” One of the girls called. “We’ll take your photo if you take ours!”

“So it begins,” Jensen mumbled under his breath.

You didn’t understand why until they stepped closer. You raised your hand to shield the sun from your eyes. One girl was dressed in a plaid flannel shirt over a black tank, the anti-possession tattooed on their chest, one in a shirt that had the side profile of the Impala that read ‘The Winchester Brothers’ like it was an advertisement, the third’s shirt was just Jensen’s face everywhere in the style of a 90’s album cover.

The shock of realization crossed their faces slowly and then all at once.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” One repeated over and over while simultaneously hitting her friend’s shoulder.

The one subject to the abuse just stood there, mouth hanging open as if her brain was having trouble computing the reality of the event. The third gulped, wide-eyed, and turned a hundred and eighty degrees walking back to the car.

You snickered and whispered to Jensen, “Fight, flight, freeze.”

He snorted but then recomposed himself, calling over to them. “Y’all don’t happen to be traveling to Denver for a certain convention now, are ya?”

“Oh my god,” The fighter repeated again. “I told you it was going to be worth it.” She pulled the fleeing friend by her collar back to the group. “I told you!” She then directed to Jensen, “We’re huge fans of the show.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled as if the shirts didn't give it away.

The frozen one thawed. “Were you in Lebanon, like literally yesterday!?!”

“Sure was.” He said. “Did you see my note?”

Two of them squealed while the other said, “We must have been like an hour or two behind you.”

“Well, we are all here now. Should we get a picture or something?” He suggested.

“Oh my gosh! Yes, Please!” The one in the Impala shirt gushed.

You offered to take the photo, and as you were receiving instructions, one of them asked you, “So, are you like his… cousin? Assistant?”

Jensen was yacking it up with the other two girls. You looked him up and down, not sure what to define it as. Caught somewhere in between. Wondering if it would cement into something more. But then it hit you. This road trip was almost over. You were leaving him by the end of the day. You’d go back to your life and he to his. Who knew the next time you’d be able to see each other, let alone work on a relationship? If that’s even what he wanted. Was it what you wanted? Honestly, the guy might be looking for a quick fling. Again, was that something you wanted? Jensen felt your gaze and met it; his lips pressed together. Your brain spun from overthinking.

“Friends,” You sputtered out. “We’re just friends.”

Relief radiated from the girl, but you were more focused on Jensen, wondering if that sigh was a hint of disappointment. But god dammit! If he wanted something more, he was going to have to be the one to bring it up! Several pictures later of the group and singles, Jensen realized he needed to take control of the situation, or he’d never leave.

“Alright, alright.” He attempted to settle them. “I didn’t do my hair today, but one of those has to be decent, and there’s a dinner I gotta catch tonight.” He looked at his watch to sell that he was running behind.

They thanked him profusely, trying to draw out the moment as much as possible.

“Actually, can you get one real quick of me and… my friend… before we head out.” He asked.

Oooh. Was that as intentionally backhanded as it felt?

“Get over here.” He impatiently waved you over. “Wait, actually, do you have your phone? I think I left mine in the car.”

You nodded and handed it over to one of the girls, knowing fully well that his phone was in his back pocket; he just had the common sense not to hand his phone over to random fans. (Unless he was very drunk per your first encounter). Although you had been the initial one to want a photo, now that you had an audience, you didn’t know how to act. One of the girls had her phone out as well, possibly recording the interaction. You stood next to his side with your body angled towards him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. The girl with your phone counted down before snapping a pic.

“No, no, no.” Jensen complained and reset. “This feels too photo op-y.” He adjusted his jeans as he squatted down. “Hop up.”

“What? Jensen!” You protested.

“Don’t ‘What, Jensen’ me.” He argued. “You did it yesterday, and it was cute, and I’d like a picture.” He tried to encourage you with the wave of his hand. “Oh, don’t get all shy on me now. One way or another, I’m getting you in the air for a picture, whether willingly or over the shoulder with just your ass in the frame, which I wouldn’t complain….”

“Fine, fine.” You chuckled as you gave in to his demand.

His knees popped as he lifted you quickly, and you bounced in the air.

“Gentle,” You scolded. “I’m not paying for your knee replacement surgery.”

“Smart ass.” He bit his lower lip and pinched the underside of your thigh.

You shrieked with laughter, and Jensen turned to look up at you.

“Oh, that is adorable.” The girl called, taking a few candid shots.

“Just friends?” Another mumbled though the two of you were not privy to the conversation.

The third agreed. “How much you wanna bet he’s going to make an announcement tomorrow he’s off the market?”

“I’m not betting on a hand already lost.”

After several more moments of thanks and prolonging the experience, you finally made to part ways. You and Jensen sat in the rental. As you waited for the girls to take off, Jensen saying something about not wanting to be followed the whole way to Denver, you played with the filters on the photos and sent the best ones to Jensen. He then added the one of him next to the sign in Lebanon to Instagram. Later as he was driving down the freeway, you read the whole thing: If there was one word to describe this year so far, that word would be unexpected. The start was unexpectedly filled with chaos and turmoil, as most of you know, though maybe I should have seen it coming. But these last few months have taught me unexpected isn’t always a bad thing. It can come in the form of unexpected kindness from strangers, unexpected friendships, unexpected journeys, unexpected mysteries, and unexpected healing. All of which has led me spontaneously and unexpectedly back home. Oh, home, let me come home.

Though he had driven all of yesterday and you only had a couple of hours in today, he insisted on seeing you through to Denver. Though he teased you over your deplorable and sometimes downright terrifying driving, you thought it was really because he wanted to reinforce the driver picks the music rule. (You weren’t ‘that’ bad of a driver). It was sole stubbornness that kept him from admitting he liked Greta Van Fleet or confusing them for Zeppelin in the first place. Instead, he went for an indie playlist of his featuring bands like Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros, The Flaming Lips, and Beach House.

The drive continued ever onward, and though Colorado did have some rolling hills, the bare wasteland and fields you had become accustomed to over the past few days drew you to the brink of insanity.

“Hey, Jensen.” You said.

“Yeah?”

“Clouds or Mountains?”

He thought on it for a second. “Clouds.”

Sure enough, he was right.

A half-hour, he prompted you. “Hey, Y/N.”

You only humphed a response.

“Clouds or mountains?”

“Clouds,” you grumbled.

A few minutes later and a new shape emerged on the horizon.

He asked again, “Clouds or mountains.”

You whined again. “Clouds.” And sighed a deep sigh before quoting, “I want to see mountains again. Mountains Gandalf! And then find somewhere quiet where I can finish my book.”

Jensen chuckled. “I always forget how big of a nerd you are. We should watch those movies together sometime.”

“Yeah, we should!” You concurred. “We can marathon them and have a hobbit day where we follow the meal schedule and everything. Breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon….” You listed off. “Tomatoes, sausages, nice crispy bacon,” You impersonated a few more quotes. “Malt beer, ripe meat of the bone.”

His stomach grumbled. “Ah, man, I'm hungry just thinking about it.”

“How?” You giggled. “You had three breakfast burritos.”

“Two and a half.” He defended.

“Hold on,” You said before unclicking your seatbelt and shuffling to the back. “What do you want?”

His tongue flashed over his bottom lip. After his dreams last night, you were the only snack he was concerned with. God, how he wished he had a few more days. Perhaps canceling on the con so you could keep driving wouldn’t be such a bad idea. You could just keep heading to Vancouver. He’d make it to set on time. Most likely. Okay, if he was able to have his way with you two days late, but it would be so worth it. You reoriented yourself in the front with your stash. “Goldfish, Pringles, and we still have a few pretzels.”

He was going to make his move tonight. He didn’t want to wait any longer. He was ready to take things to the next step. He was glad to have you as a friend, but he wanted more. From the moment you slid in next to him all those months ago at the brewery, he knew he was a fucking goner. Sure, at that time, he was as drunk as Jimmy Buffet in Margaritaville, but that instinct hadn’t lied to him. It held and only grew. It had taken him these past months and this road trip to build up this decision, to finally have the courage to act on it. He just wasn’t quite sure how to initiate it yet.

“Hey,” You called him from his thoughts. “You gotta help me with these. I really only want to take the granola and trail mix up with me to Estes Park.”

His heart immediately sank. Maybe he didn’t understand or hear you right. “Estes Park?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I actually got an unbelievable deal at the Stanley Hotel. You know, Stephen King’s inspiration for The Shining. Like such a good deal, the ghosts may be luring me there. So I may call you in a panic tonight and probably should get some salt on the way up. Oh man, how awesome would it be if you and Jared stayed there and made a little ghost hunter special? But I figured you’d be busy with the con all weekend, and we wouldn’t get to see each other much anyways, so I might as well make the most of being out in Colorado and hike the Rockies while I’m out here.” You rambled.

“Right.” His heart stayed in his stomach, remembering your early conversation about what you told your friends, not realizing it was a partial truth to them. “Cause how else are you going to have your meet-cute with some handsome lumberjack unless you trip over his fallen log?”

He meant it as a joke, but disappointment twisted inside you. So the kiss had been a fluke, and this morning was just a natural reaction. He wasn’t interested. It made sense. More so than what you had thought.

“Exactly.” You said.

Friends. You thought. Just friends, he thought, and his cheeks flushed. Simultaneously, you both swallowed a lump in your throat. The ride from there on was quiet. There was an obvious tension in the air. Not like the storm waiting to break as was before. No, this was more like when your grandfather brought up politics on Thanksgiving. At least you had other rooms to escape to then.

You played on your phone a bit, tried, and failed to read. The motion of the car and focusing on the stationary words was too much for your brain to process. Jensen seemed lost in thought. Like he wanted to say something but never was able to work it out. Maybe if you could tell him how you were feeling. Just let it all out. That you didn’t know how much longer you could handle the ‘just friends’ thing. It was pretty easy when thousands of miles separated you, but being so close together, it was near impossible to deny your emotions. At any moment, they could explode out of you. But you didn’t want to risk it. Didn’t want to make a mistake and lose him altogether.

“Hey, Y/N?” Jensen pulled you from your thoughts.

“Yeah?” You responded hopeful.

“Clouds or mountains?”

It was not what you wanted to hear, but at least some of the tension had lifted. You squinted and took in the hazy purple shape in the distance. After a few moments of analysis, your eyes widened. You softly and repeatedly slapped his shoulder in excitement.

“That’s a fucking mountain bitch!” You squealed in delight.

He laughed boisterously.

“We made it!” You proclaimed.

Jensen slipped into a British accent in an attempt to impersonate David Attenborough. But it came out more gentler, more breathy, and a higher pitch than his usual deep voice.

“After years of endless searching, the pair of travelers laid eyes upon their destination. The high peaks of the mountains are a stark contrast to the flat sea of plains they had battled tirelessly through.”

You melted, and a high whine sounded in the back of your throat. Jensen glanced at you and bit his lower lip as you quickly recomposed yourself. It was such a sweet and delicate noise. He wanted more.

“Little did they realize, the end of the great migration is only the beginning. The female will depart from the male to venture further into the hills, gathering resources for the nest. All the while, the male will be left defenseless against hoards of a terrifying new threat. Fangirls. If either of them survives the next perilous chapter, it will be nothing short of a miracle.”

He was unsuccessful at coaxing another whimper from you, but your giggle was just as pleasurable.

“Oh my god,” You chastised him with a chuckle. “You’ll be fine. You secretly feed off the praise and attention even though you act like a complete grump.”

“And what about you?” He asked. “I know you packed an entire walk-in closet, but do you have bear spray?”

“Bear spray?” You furrowed your brow.

He rolled his eyes at your lack of unpreparedness. “What about water? Do you have a camel pack?”

“I’m sure my water bottle will be just fine.”

He scoffed. “First aid? Gauze if you get a cut or need to make a splint?”

“Jensen,” You stopped him. “I’m going on popular trails part of the National Parks Service. If I run into any trouble, I’m sure there will be plenty of people around to help. If not a handsome lumberjack, perhaps a park ranger.” You added for the spite of it.

He clenched his jaw, trying his hardest to ignore the jab. “No, we are stopping at an Arc’teryx or, or Patagonia or something. Make sure you have all you need.”

Was he panicking? “Jensen,” You said his name again, hoping to ground him. “I have everything I need. I’ll be fine. I’ve hiked before. There lot’s of places back home.”

“But this is, like, the actual mountains.” He continued to argue. “Wild terrain, no cell service, bears, cougars…”

Your laugh cut him off. “I think you should be more worried about cougars this weekend than me.”

"This is serious, Y/N." He groaned.

"I'll be fine. I promise." You affirmed.

"Will you…" He started. He didn't want to be overbearing, and he knew you were fiercely capable and independent, but anxiety was getting the best of him. "Will you just text in the morning and when you make it back, so I know you're okay?"

"I'm sure you'll hardly be able to check your phone, but yes, I'll text you." You agreed.

"And take lots of pictures, so I can live vicariously through you." He added.

“Deal!”

The last leg of the journey remained quiet and calm, Jensen’s indie playlist providing a soft ambiance, even as the skyline grew heavier with angular earth jutting into the heavens. Even as Denver grew from a speck reflection of sunlight to a concrete jungle, neither of you could think of what to say. Your gold necklace glinted in the side view mirror, and the orange sun streaked across your face.

You had arranged with a rental company to come meet you at the hotel where the convention was taking place. That way, Jensen would still have a car, though you figured he may have a driver for the event itself. For the first time in this journey, an active map with actual directions had been pulled up to navigate the way through the city. Though now you were wishing you had encouraged his earlier plan to keep heading west. As the minutes counted down to arrival, your hearts grew evermore tender knowing soon they’d be parted.

Jensen pulled into a roundabout, a fountain in its center flowing into a garden of roses, through the archway leading to the hotel entrance. He put the car in park, but the engine ran idle. Both of you stared directly ahead, not quite believing the trip where time stood still was finally over.

An intrusive vibrating buzzed into the quiet. You looked down at your phone, notifying you the pick-up was here, as a black Malibu drove under the awning next to you.

“That’s my ride.” You said defeated.

Jensen nodded, and as the trunk behind you popped open, his door creaked as he exited the vehicle. You studied the lines in your hands as they lay in your lap, wondering if they held any insight into your fortune. If you could read them, perhaps they could guide you forward. But all you could do was sit with that same feeling as the morning you first left him. The trunk next to you slammed shut, signaling it was time to go. You scrambled out of the car but froze, facing Jensen, trying to discern the look on his face, not knowing it mirrored yours.

“Well…” He bumped his fists together. “This is it.”

“Yeah.” You agreed.

“Be safe.”

You let out a half-hearted laugh. “You too.”

Jensen pounced. It happened so fast your brain couldn’t process it until it had already happened. His lips worked hard against yours as you met his claiming pace. One hand wrapped around your waist, pressing you against his hard frame. The other wound around the back of your neck, leaving no room for escape. Your fists clenched the fabric of his shirt with such strength at any moment, it could tear. Gravity had no hold here as it felt like you were floating far above the atmosphere. Harsh clashes drew out into savoring breaths, and when you finally pulled apart, you found you were out of air entirely.

You looked up at him, your noses nearly grazing.

Ask me to stay, your eyes pleaded.

Please, stay. His heart begged.

Someone nearby cleared their throat, and you took a step back, color flooding your cheeks. Yet, still, there were no words to say to each other.

The Enterprise driver rolled down their window. “Lady, I got a schedule to run.”

“Right, of course,” You snapped back to reality as time and gravity came rushing back with an oppressive force.

Jensen rubbed his lower lip as if waking up trying to remember a dream.

“Thank you?” It came out as a question.

You didn’t know what you were thanking him for. The kiss, driving, paying for the hotels, maybe everything. Had you ever thanked someone after they kissed you? More people were around the entrance now; some under the awning, some looking through the glass windows of the lobby, and more than one had their phones out. Your chest began to tighten, and your vision blurred. Your mind grew evermore blank the harder you fished for something else to say.

His brow creased, and he tilted his head slightly. “You’re welcome?”

A high voice called his name, followed by another, and then a tank of a man came barreling over, mumbling to Jensen the need to check his phone more frequently. That he wasn’t about to have another Nashville on his hands. Without another word, you got into the car and drove away. Jensen’s eyes stayed fixed on you until the car was out of view.

---

The view on the way to Estes Park should have been stunning, breathtaking, and spectacular, but you were two-for-two. Two-for-two on leaving Jensen at a hotel and crying on your way to your next destination. And it was stupid. You shouldn’t be crying. You should be elated. It probably had something to do with tuning into a radio station playing that dreaded Neil Diamond song you couldn’t seem to escape.

He kissed you. Like, kissed you, kissed you. There was no mistaking it this time. Yet, he didn’t ask you to stay. He didn’t say anything. You knew what you wanted at this point. You wanted him. You wanted to try and make some sort of relationship work despite the distance, despite his status, despite everything. But you were going to leave it in his hands. He had to decide what he wanted and then fucking communicate it to you. With actual words, though, the lips had been enjoyable.

You chewed on your thumb, thinking things over. Maybe you should turn around and head back. Give him an opportunity to actually say what he was thinking. But then again, he was going to be so busy this weekend that you wouldn’t have time with him anyways. No. You were staying the course. You were a brave, independent woman and didn’t need to be hung up about some guy. When you booked this trip, you wanted to see ghosts at The Stanley and you wanted to see the mountains. So by god, that was what you were going to do. If he had anything to say, he could come find you.

The Stanley was impressive, to say the least. It had a glamor to it, feeling as if it stood still in a bygone era. The ghost tour was fun and spooky, and you even managed to catch an orb on camera, despite the rule, ‘no videos allowed.’ Though it felt lonely. You kept thinking of quick remarks to say to Jensen or feeling the same chill down your spine or how he’d undoubtedly say your orb was just a spec of dust yet secretly keep a box of salt close by that night.

Sleep was impossible. It wasn’t the scratching on walls or the footsteps above, even though you were on the top floor, or the swinging chandelier. It was the fact that he hadn’t called or texted. And yes, despite your horrible cell reception on the road trip here, you did, in fact, pay for cellular service. And it seemed to working just fine as you reconnected with friends and family ensuring them you arrived to Colorado in one piece.

You don’t kiss someone like that and not follow up! You buried your head under a pillow. You also don’t kiss someone like that and thank them. What had you been thinking? You weren’t thinking that was the problem. Possibly even had a panic attack given by the growing crowd. No wonder he hadn’t called you. What was he supposed to think? You tried to rationalize the thought process. You had shown gratitude towards the action, thus indicating you appreciated the gesture. But even you didn’t buy that.

An icy caress crept up your spine, sending shivers throughout your body, and you reached your breaking point.

You shot straight up. “Can’t you tell I am being haunted enough by my own idiocy!” Perhaps it was your own imagination, but the creaking floorboards seemed to settle, and warmth flooded back. “Thank you!”

You laid back down and pulled your phone out, staring at his number, the photos being the last thing you sent. You had to put a feeler out there.

‘Thanks again for an amazing trip! If you’re looking for a buddy on your next road trip, let me know. And don’t worry, the ghosts here are all bark, though I can’t say the same for those in room 217.’

You slammed your phone on the one-night stand and prayed sleep would find you.

Morning came quickly, too quickly. Your alarm cheerfully chimed you awake though you did not meet it with the same attitude. After hitting snooze twice, you regretted your decision to wake up early and beat the crowds. The sheets crinkled as you reached over, searching for Jensen, only to remember he wasn’t there. The realization was enough to get you moving instead of what you really wanted, opting for a lazy morning in bed with him.

Though it had been a struggle to pry yourself free from the bed, it had been the right call. Prime parking was still available at the head of the trail, which was starting to fill in even at this ungodly hour. The trail up to the Sky Pond was going to be a long one but worth it, or so you kept telling yourself. You double-checked your supplies, ensuring you had enough water, food, and a compass. To Jensen’s credit, you probably could have been more prepared, but you also didn’t want to be weighed down. You snapped a few pictures of the map at the start of the trail, just in case. It would all be fine.

Two hours into the hike and you had convinced yourself you made the right call. The landscape and views were astonishingly serene. There was peace and euphoria blowing like wind through branches, rushing like rapids of a river, sweetly singing like birds in the breeze, gasping like the lack of air in your lungs, dripping like the sweat on your brow. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but you just needed a second wind. It would be worth it, you repeated. And you were only thinking about Jensen every 500 feet or so. Progress. You had already passed Alberta Falls, and it had been spectacular. There was something healing about the sound of water. There was more to come, and it would be worth it, repeating the mantra of the day.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, so too did the heat of the day. Conserving water throughout the hike was essential, but staying hydrated was just as important. You guzzled down another few sips. As you rounded a bend, you hesitated, seeing the ascent. The backpack bearing weight on your shoulders grew heavier, and you adjusted the straps. Your breaths deepened, and a few crude words muttered from your lips as you prepared for the climb. If Nesta could do it, so could you.

Your legs shook as you started, already weary from the elevation gain. You wondered what it would be like at the convention right now. Would you be hanging out with Jensen? Meeting his friends and coworkers? Or would you just be milling about, waiting for the day to be over? Probably the latter. He had asked you to text in the morning, but he hadn’t even responded to your message last night. He was probably too busy with the day. Or just as confused about the kiss as you. The first time it happened, you didn’t talk about it, so why would now be any different? Whatever the situation, you bet if you were still in Denver, it would include air conditioning, less sweat, and the opportunity to read. But you could read at the lake and cool your feet off. If you ever got there. The mental games were becoming as big of a hurdle as the physical limits.

You were too in your head that when you hit the next rock, your foot missed it entirely. Landing on the step below, your foot slipped out from under you, and you came crashing down on your hip with a big thud.

“Fuck!” You cursed and then hissed through your teeth.

“Woah!” A voice called in the distance, and the sound of heavy boots beat against the rocky steps. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

You braced yourself to get up and were met with a helping hand. The green pants and khaki shirt were a dead giveaway for a park ranger. He was tall and broad with dark brown curls and soft whiskey eyes. His skin was darkened from days in the sun. And unlike you, he was barely breaking a sweat.

“Yeah.” You winced as he helped pull you up. “Wasn’t watching my step.”

“At least you can stand.” He said, “But let’s take a look anyways.” He crouched down beside you. “A few scrapes and you’ll definitely have a bruise. Can you twist your ankle?” You did as he instructed. “Bend the knee.”

You looked down as he tenderly applied pressure to certain areas. You confirmed the scrapes from the few bright red streaks traveling down your calve and brushed at the dirt that ran your whole length.

“All looks to be in working order.” He assessed, brushed off his hands, and started digging through his pack. “I have acetaminophen.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” You gladly accepted it and washed it down with water.

“Here.” He took his water bottle and ran it down your leg, clearing the cuts of debris. “You’ll want to clean that better once you’re finished for the day, but you should be fine until then. Where are you hiking up to?” He asked.

“Sky pond.”

“Ah, me too, actually.” He took his hat off to fan himself and ran his hand through his bouncy curls. “Someone has been messing with the trail cams up there, and I gotta reset them. Mind if I join you?” Maybe it was because you pursed your lips, he quickly added. “If not, I’ll hang back for a while and create some distance. It’s so peaceful out here I wouldn’t want to ruin…”

“No. It’s cool, we can hike together. Though I’m probably slower than you’re used to.” You said.

“Oh, I love a leisurely pace. So much to take in. Maybe even catch sight of the bear I keep hearing about.”

“Bears?” You raised your brows. “Yeah, you can definitely stick around.”

As you hiked onward, you learned a little about each other. Where each other were from, family, careers, hobbies. He moved out from Maine recently, but being stationed in the Rockies had always been a dream of his. The ascent finally leveled out a bit, and you were able to catch your breath.

“You have a partner back home?” He asked.

You chuckled.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… complicated.” You explained.

“Hold that thought.” He said. “There’s an excellent view back here most people don’t know about.”

He started in through the woods.

“So much for staying on the trail rule.”

He looked back and winked. “Perks of traveling with a ranger.”

“Definitely not impersonating one and preying on single hikers.” You teased but also voiced the concern in the back of your mind.

“And disgrace the badge? Never.” He smiled.

“I do have bear spray.” You lied and gripped your shoulder straps tighter.

“Well, I’m glad I came across you. I left mine down at the station. If we did come across B 712 I was going to yell real loud and hope for the best.” He teased back.

Despite the warning bell in your head, you continued onward, following him further from the main path. The forest cleared to a rocky cliffside overlooking a massive gorge carved from the very glacier this trail was named after. It made you feel so insignificantly small and at the very top of the world all at the same time.

“Wow.” Was all that came to your mind.

“Ah, don’t get too close to the ledge now.” His arm went in front of you like a mother who braked in the car too hard. “If you slip here, well…” He peered over the steep ledge.

You took out your phone and scanned the area with the lens. “Pictures never do it justice.” You said disappointed.

“I never get sick of the view.” He stated. “You should come back when the colors change, it looks like the valley is on fire. Sorry, you were saying earlier?”

“Right. Yeah, no…” You were flustered, wondering how much to share. “It’s just I really like this guy, and I think he likes me too, most of the time anyway. But I don’t know what he wants. And I don’t want to get hurt. So I’m kinda stuck in this pining phase, and I don’t know how to get out of it until he’s ready. I’m not making sense.”

“Hmm.” He pondered. “I mean, I’ve known you for twenty minutes I can say with certainty he likes you back.”

You rolled your eyes at the pass. “No, it's different. He’s like a big deal. Like a big fish in the ocean, and I’m a trout in a pond.”

“First of all,” He stopped you. “I hate that analogy with a passion. Second, If you’ve put him on a pedestal and he’s reinforced that in any way or hasn’t corrected that, he is not worth the time of day. No matter where you are in your walk of life, comparing yourself to other people never ends well. And using that comparison to deflate your own worthiness or happiness is going to lead to a self-fulling prophecy of missed opportunity.”

Wow, that was deep and stung a little. “Are you really a park ranger or a psychologist?” You teased.

“I listen to a lot of Brene Brown podcasts.” He admitted. “What, it gets lonely hiking up here all the time; gotta do something to keep the mind busy. You said he likes you; what makes you think that?”

“Shall I lay on this bolder while you connect this back to my relationship with my mother?” You gestured to the rock next to you.

“Fine, fine.” He retreated. “I have a knack for wanting to fix things; car engines, relationships, trail cams. Let me say this, and now that I’ve creeped you out enough, I’ll let you hike in peace, but you said you don’t know what he wants, but have you asked him?”

“Well… I…” You stuttered. “I’m waiting for him.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Because that’s what you do. The guy asks the girl. He makes the moves.”

He scoffed. “I guess that’s fine. I didn’t take you as being so old-fashioned.”

“I’m not old-fashioned.” You scoffed back.

He raised his hands in surrender. “It’s not a bad thing if that's what you want.”

“No, it’s just… this is in his court. It’s his move.” How could you explain the situation without giving it away?

“Two-for-two with the horrible analogies.” He pushed.

Oh, he was getting on your nerves. “He’s an actor! Okay! Like a somewhat recognizable one. And I’m just,” You gestured to yourself. “A nobody, covered in dirt.”

“Oooh. So it is the pedestal thing. Man, I’m good!” He leaned against a pine and crossed his arms smugly. “The way I see it, if you like him, and he’s given you all the signals back, you need to get over your own insecurities and open up a channel of communication, or you're going to be stuck in that small pond forever.”

Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes. “How?” You whispered.

“Simple. Tell him how you feel and ask him the same, ask him what he wants.” He suggested.

“And what if, what if he doesn’t want what I want? What if I lose him altogether?”

“It’s a risk, but do you really want to be trailing behind him forever? Putting your whole life on hold while you wait for him to catch up?” He pushed. “‘Sides, you know where I’m stationed, and I’ll make my intentions clear from the beginning.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “What’s your name?”

His grin widened, showing off his canines. “Why, you going to report me, sweetheart?”

“No.” You stamped your foot. “You are obviously entitled to a raise. I bet you find all the single hikers and help them with their existential crises.”

“It keeps me busy.” He bit his bottom lip. “The name’s Dean. You?”

You scoffed. Of course, it was. “Y/N. I think I’ll let you continue on your own from here.”

“I understand. I came on too heavy.” He sighed. “Should’ve stuck to the surface-level topics.”

“No, it’s not that.” You said. “It’s just I’m heading in the opposite direction now.”

You weren’t going to wait to keep hashing it out with him. A new determination had sparked. The branches snapped underneath your feet as you started the way back to the main trail. You wondered how fast you could run down a mountain.

“Hey, take it easy,” Dean called after you. “I don’t want to come back on the trail tonight to find you twisted an ankle on the way down. Where are you off to so fast anyways? Really taking those words to heart.”

“Denver.” You shouted back. “There’s a con I gotta get to.”

-----

Continue to Part 7 Here!

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