#I’m going to go eat an egg sandwich

[sansebastinae]

[keclan]

does anyone know any east affordable alternatives to cold cuts for like lunch sandwiches?

[ghouljams]

I’m trying to sleep but all I can think about rn is Cowboy Ghost getting soft not only in the emotional sense, but also in the physical sense. You bet your ass Goose is feeding him three square meals a day because love is food and food is love. The transition is slow, but eventually his belly gets a little softer, forearms a little bigger. Ugh I just know he’d be so comfy to cuddle. Plus what better sign of recovery and safety than out eating his metabolism. I don’t know where this is going. I have the soft ghost brain rot.

God you're so right all the time.

Ghost definitely keeps his exercise regimen from his time in the special forces, routine is good for him and it wakes him up in the morning when all he really wants to do is stay in bed with you. Days when he can't resist that temptation he finds his feet dragging a little, his body itching to expend energy some other way. But it's the strangest thing, he notices it when it's already happened, he's gained weight. Ghost has very... neutral feelings about his body, it is a body and its his, which is fine. He isn't sure quite how this happened though. He puzzles over it as you set a full plate of eggs, bacon, grits, in front of him at breakfast. He puzzles over it when you hand him a nicely wrapped sandwich and a coke at lunch. He puzzles over it while getting seconds at dinner.

He's softer at the edges, around the middle. Out eatting his metabolism, or perhaps keeping pace with it. He isnt hungry all the time anymore. He's sleeping better. He feels better, more comfortable in his skin, more himself when you drape an arm over his chest in bed and cuddle closer to his warmth. You settle so comfortably on top of him, snuggle in like it's your job, he isn't sure he misses the hard edges. You've worn them down, reshaped and softened them like the waves gently lapping at stones along the seashore. It was slow enough he didn't notice until it had already happened: how much happier he is here with you.

Really he only takes silent notice of it, enjoys the softer lines of his body and the way you hold them, until his daughters come along. Until he has babies sleeping on his chest and he's glad there's some cushion for their little heads. Until they wrap their arms around him and smush their face against his stomach and he's glad to provide them some warmth. Until he spots one of their little fill in the blank school assignments, "my daddy is a cowboy because he eats a lot", and finds himself smiling. Softer in the places that count, healthier than he's ever been, and happier for it.

[stayandot8]

Emergency Contact

Genre: comfort fluff, chan's having a rough time

Relationship type: established boyfriend/girlfriend

Important Contents: slight swearing, Chan going through the stages of a panic/anxiety attack

WC: 2.4k

masterlist

The small moments I could sneak my boyfriend away from his work were few and far between. The few times it did work were a perfect storm of my big puppy eyes or a smile with just the right amount of head tilt and his need to get away from it all. Sometimes it was a member annoying him past his limit, sometimes it was his musical ear being drained and needing inspiration from the outside world. Other times, I was just too insistent and he couldn’t resist. Or so he said. But when he sat silently across the cafe table, watching the people pass by, I wondered which it was. 

“Chris?” I nudged his foot with mine, his attention snapping back to me and my plastic cup of motivation to get the day done. His eyes were big, silently asking what I nudged him for then his shoulders slumped as realization hit him. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I know I’m not the best company right now.” His gaze landed on his untouched pastry in front of him. I glanced at it, a sad smile involuntarily creeping on my face. It’s not as though he was usually talkative, but at least he looked at me from time to time. 

“It’s okay, you just seem more distracted than usual. Is it Han again? Do I need to have another talk with him? Or Minnie? Is he making more old jokes? I swear, with all the karma he’s banking, he’ll go gray before you do.” Finally. A chuckle. A small sigh of relief escaped me as I watched him break off a piece of the croissant in front of him. I didn’t even know if he had eaten earlier. “You left before I got up this morning. Or did you sleep at the studio again?”

“I tried to sleep with you for a few hours but I didn’t really sleep that well.”

“Have you eaten today?” His hand stopped, his face dropping. “Christopher.” He looked like a kid who had been caught stealing cookies. “Please tell me this croissant is not the first time you’re eating today.” He didn’t move. “Christopher! It’s four in the afternoon!”

He laughed sheepishly, slightly embarrassed by the pink tint to his cheeks. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, it wasn’t on purpose.” He shook his head at his lap. I could only shake my head at him, a mixture of slight disappointment and exasperation clear. 

“Well you know I have to get another for you before you go, right? Even if I have to sneak it in your bag, you’re taking it. Maybe a sandwich too. Or a cake pop…”

“Hey now.” He broke me of my train of thought, that dazzling smile of his making my heart skip a beat. “I can buy my own food, thank you very much.”

“Well apparently not. Now do you want a sausage, egg, and cheese or a smoked ham?”

“I don’t want anything else than what I have in front of me.” He tried to wink at me too, but I was having none of it. 

“Tell me which one you want or I’m getting both. And a cake pop.”

“Baby-” I got out of my seat and grabbed my wallet before he could continue his thought and half-sprinted for the counter, him hot on my tail. Luckily for me, the last person in line had just finished and was walking away, leaving the perfect window for me to rush straight to the girl behind the counter. 

“Hi, can I get both the sausage egg, and cheese and the toasted ham breakfast sandwiches? Thank you.” As the payment terminal flashed with my total and within the two seconds it took to unzip my wallet, Chan had slipped his card on top of the screen. The terminal beeped with the acceptance of payment. I slapped Chan on his arm. Hard.

“Oh you’re so going to pay for that later.” He playfully smirked at me, staring at the screen to avoid my eyes. 

“I thought I just did.” 

*

*Incoming call from: Channie ❣️*

“Hello?” 

Sniffles met me on the other line. My body immediately went still, ready to jump wherever I was needed. My world stopped when Chan was in trouble. Or anxious. Or pissed. Which, all of these emotions aside, he was a generally happy guy so it didn’t happen a lot. But when it did…

“Chris? Are you okay?” I whispered into my phone, trying not to let my voice carry to any prying ears that might be nearby. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk quickly finding a bench off to the side to sit and put my bag down. There were more wet sounds coming from the phone, which only worried me more. He tried to be strong for us, for me and his bandmates. He tried not to let his emotions out too much, but I made sure he knew that I would be there when he did need to let them out. And this was the first time he was letting me in.

“Send me your location, I’m on my way. Don’t move, okay? I’ll be there soon.” I gathered my stuff again, ready to put down my phone to see his location. 

“Don’t hang up.” More sniffles. A little part of me felt guilty for feeling relieved at being needed by him. I had always felt it was me going to him for my big feelings about the world. But this… This was new.

“I won’t. Where are you? Can you tell me where you are?” 

“Studio.” He choked out. I nodded like he could see me and started in a slight sprint, knowing the way from the store I had just left, picking up some last minute shopping for the holidays. Luckily, I hadn’t found much, so I didn’t have many bags to carry while I ran. 

“Chris, I’m on my way. Just stay put, okay? I’m coming. I’m not hanging up. Just breathe for me, baby. Take a deep breath whenever you can.” I heard some small whimpers coming from what sounded like further away, like he had set the phone down away from him. Whether he was trying to hide whatever noise he was making or what, I didn’t know. He hadn’t done a very good job because I heard everything. My veins tightened with the sudden rush of anxious adrenaline washing through me. Some ragged breaths came through the phone as the tall building I was running for came into view. The big letters on the top loomed overhead, like a constant reminder of its founder and the expectations set forth by it. 

Sometimes some of the members would talk about how said expectations were too much sometimes. They felt like they couldn’t be fully themselves under the wing of such close eyes, so they would find ways to channel that energy into other things. Most of the time it was through their music, others it was through vlogs or what they called ‘talkers’ or outings with each other. Concerts were a big thing with them too. They had less supervision on tour, so they felt they could get away with more on the road. Should they ever push it too far, there were always consequences waiting for them here at home, but never so severe that they stopped pushing their boundaries. I guess anyone would feel that way if they had to push down the parts of themselves that made them...them.

Pushing through that revolving door, I waved at the security at the front desk and grabbed my permanent guest badge that Chris had saved for me to come in whenever he was here. As long as he was, I was free to enter. I wasn’t sure what deal he had to cut to get me this pass, but I figured that in my case, ignorance was bliss. Holding the phone to my ear, I pointed to it and strolled/sprinted  past them and into the elevator. 

“Just keep trying to breathe for me, okay? I need you to try and take a breath. You might start to get a little shaky if you haven’t already. But I’m here, I’m getting in the elevator now, I’m coming.” As the elevator dinged open to let out whoever was in there, Han stepped out, head down in his phone and mask up and covering half his face. He looked up and nodded to me, clearly not surprised I was here. If he didn’t say anything to me, then I assumed he didn’t know anything that was happening to the boy on the other end of my phone line. He would’ve been a good one to call seeing as he dealt with this kind of stuff the most to my knowledge. 

Whatever force that pushed him to call me instead of one of his members, I wasn’t going to question it. I knocked softly on the studio door and let myself in. I looked around in the recording room, looking for the same boy I had seen earlier, his familiar black hat and clothing not catching my eye. But what I did see was an open file on the computer, open with the music application and unfinished. I turned once more to see my boyfriend, curled up in a ball and rocking against the wall. His phone was balancing precariously on his knee that was tucked into his chest and his head was resting on the wall with his eyes shut, like he was willing himself to calm down and keep his breathing under control. He wasn’t doing a very good job. It looked like…well, it looked like the aftermath of a panic attack. 

“Chris… Chris, baby, I’m right here.” I shoved off my bag and threw it on the couch, where it landed with a small thud. I tossed my phone on top of it. I knelt down to be eye level with him and placed my hands on his bare knees, his loose shorts had ridden up down near his upper thighs. I thought the skin contact would be better to ground him, letting him feel that I was there if he couldn’t hear me very well. I squeezed his knee with slight pressure, just in case. His cheeks were visibly wet while he tried to breathe through his mouth. I watched his chest try to rise and fall, stuttering on the way out. His lips pursed out as he breathed, his hands latching onto mine on his knees. He gripped them like he thought I would fly away if he let go. I turned my hands over to thread our fingers together and he lowered his knees and pulled me by our connected hands so that I was sitting in his lap. He only let go of my hands when I was fully in and he could wrap himself around me fully. 

I started rubbing his back, letting my nails graze him while my other hand went to the back of his head. He tucked his head into my shoulder until his breath was tickling the tiny hairs on my neck. I kissed the side of his head that I could reach. 

 And we stayed there.

*

“Any idea what brought it on? Or did it just come on out of nowhere?” 

We were still on the floor, not quite as entangled as we were before but I was still in his lap, chomping on the food we had ordered bit by bit. I wouldn’t let him stop until I felt like he had actually eaten what was close to a meal, especially when I saw both sandwiches from the shop we went to this afternoon untouched in his bag. I might’ve had to force the first couple bites on him but a girlfriend had to do what she had to do, especially when he then ‘playfully’ demanded she spoon-feed him herself. He still wasn’t back to himself, but he was getting there.

“No idea.” He said softly, chewing through his thoughts. “Nothing really happened, I just…” He trailed off. 

“It’s okay, Chan. Shit just…comes up sometimes. I know, I get it. These things can come out of nowhere and grip you and not let you go until it’s run its course. Maybe today was just your day.” He nodded in agreement, staring at the wall. 

He had one hand wrapped around my waist, half to keep me steady on his leg and half, what I believed to be the real reason, because he simply didn’t want to let go. But the other hand he was resting on his opposite thigh. Every so often he would pick at his cuticle with one of his fingers but quickly stopped, probably thinking I wouldn’t notice. 

“Do you think it had something to do with the upcoming album? Is it finished?” I pondered out loud. He quickly shook his head though, diminishing the thought. 

“No, the album is done and approved. It wouldn’t be that.” If I had known any better, I would think he was almost offended I would suggest such a thing. And in his normal state, he might have been. “Even the choreography is done. The concept art, the photocard selection, it’s all done. I don’t know what happened.” His voice was slowly getting stronger as he thought what could be the source of his panic. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

“You know, not everything has to have a reason.” He shrugged, not really liking that answer. “But I’m happy you called me.” He smiled softly at the floor.

“You were on my mind. You’re always on my mind. I just wanted to hear your voice. That was the only thing I could think of that might help, so I called you.” I couldn't fight my smile at that. And I tried hard. 

“I would’ve been happy if you called anybody instead of facing it alone. You don’t have to face all your strong, negative emotions alone. That’s what we’re here for; your friends and me. We’re here for the good, bad, and ugly.”

“But I knew you would answer. I know… that I can depend on you when I need you.”

“And I’m so happy you know that now. As a fact, not just an idea.” 

His arm grew tighter around me.

“If I ever go to the hospital or something, I’m making sure they call you.”

[gainerbf]

•How I’ve gained weight•

I’ve wanted to make a post like this for a while now because I get the question ‘how do I gain weight’ often. Here is an outline of what I’ve been doing

-In the morning, I try to have eggs. 4 eggs scrambled with a slice of cheese is my go to. That’s 24 grams of protein right away. Add a tall glass of milk (for me chocolate milk) and boom, 30 grams of protein immediately.

-I work on the road during the year so around lunch time I would try to snack on cashews and peanut butter crackers. Once I’m off work around 2-3pm, I would try to have a burger. Literally just a plain ass burger or 2 with ketchup. Alternate that with grilled chicken or a deli sandwich with some kind of red meat. Or even full fat greek yogurt is good.

-Dinner is…dinner. Eat whatever. Pasta. Pizza. Chicken. Steak. Burgers. Tacos. Hell pb n js will do. Go nuts

-IMPORTANT-

•Weight Training

I weight train. Almost every day. I can tell I am ruining some of your ‘ooo fat boy is out of shape. He probably can’t do a push up’ fantasies. Very sorry but I can. I can do a lot actually. I lift weights. I do lunges. I do squats. I have a fat fucking milkshake made up simply of ice cream and milk. Not even trying with the milk either, it’s low fat. Imagine if I did whole milk? In due time 😉 but this is important. I’m not saying ‘hit the gym blimpie!’. Get some dumbbells. Work your lower body. You need to do this anyways to carry your growing body. Plus you’ll feel A LOT better…and your ass and thighs look good, win win 😃

-Midnight snack/second dinner. My go to second dinner/before bed snack is a steak and cheese grinder. I don’t have it every night but probably 3-4 times a week. Again, it doesn’t have to be red meat but protein is key.

In conclusion

I started doing this for a few reason

My job causes me to move around a good bit and I lost weight because of it. I had no muscle. I was just pure fat. I wanted to change that and have

I figured it would help fill me out a bit more. Uhhhh mission accomplished 🥵

It’s healthy. Pretty simple

Final reason. I am always trying to find the most effective weight gain regimen. This is it. At least for me it is.

I’ve gained 23 pounds since June 25th. I have to make adjustments do to my upcoming work schedule but I plan on keeping this routine for the foreseeable future and even tweaking it a bit.

-I can add protein powder, whole milk and heavy cream to my milkshakes

-I can have 2 milkshakes a day (or 3 or 4 or just a constant stream 😅)

-I will go up in weight with my weight training. Increasing weight is key, don’t do a ton of reps because that is how you cut/tone. You want to build. Only way to build is to increase the weight you lift. Don’t hurt yourself. Start low, then grow

I’m not saying this is a guarantee plan for you. Everybody is different. But this worked for me. It DESTROYED a plateau I was hitting and then some.

Side note: this was influenced by a post that I have a screenshot of but I didn’t screenshot the name of the blog and I can’t find the post. When I see it resurface, will rb

[adriennebarnes]

Little Bit of Food

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N sees a TikTok video of couple where the women serves her partner more food on his plate than on hers. For research purposes, she just wants to see how he would react.

Warning: no translated Spanish, spelling and grammar errors, SHORT

A/N: since I am Mexican and Peruvian, the foods mentioned are typical foods that I grew up eating, I LOVE these foods so much, if any other Latine readers have suggestions of what dishes should be mentioned, comment below and I’ll tag you when I use them in another one shot. Also, sorry if it’s short, I don’t think I can build off a lot of “story material” over a TikTok trend, you know?

Y/N was watching TikTok and she saw a video that was interesting to her.

It was of a couple and a woman served her husband more food on his plate than on her own. The husband insisted that his wife should have more food and that he could eat something later.

Y/N knew that Henry was going to busy at the gym for a few hours so that gave her plenty of time to make one of Henry’s favorite meals that Y/N introduced him to, and that’s bistec a lo pobre. She bought sliced New York steaks from the Mexican grocery store (there’s always a butcher there), also some tortillas and 2 avocados to make guacamole or a sandwich later. When she went back to Henry’s house, she started cutting up tomatoes and onions so it would give the steak flavor. She put the onions and tomatoes aside in a bowl and got out the white rice in the pantry to wash the rice.

Half an hour later, Henry was came through the door sweaty and with a happy Kal.

“Ay hola, Kal, como te fue con tu papi, hm?” Y/N asked, kneeling to pet Kal.

“You call me papi?” Henry asked, drinking water from his sports bottle.

“When I’m talking about you to Kal, yes. Ain’t no way I’m calling you that though, it’s weird because I call my actual dad, papi. So don’t even think about it.” Y/N warned Henry as she washed her hands in the kitchen sink.

“Too late, I’m already thinking about, my lady.” Henry said, kissing her cheek as he hugged her from behind.

“Stop it. I’m making your favorite so please take a quick shower and then I’ll call you when it’s ready. Do you want one or two eggs?” Y/N asked.

“Two please, thanks love.” Henry said, kissing her lips before heading upstairs for his shower.

Y/N began sautéing the onions and tomatoes in the pan before adding in two pieces of steak for Henry, we’ll, one and a half, she cut a half piece for her plate. She got a plate out of the pantry to serve two ‘scoops’ of rice, adding the cooked steaks with tomatoes and onions on top of it, and preceded to fry two eggs on a different pan.

“Toro, food!” Y/N shouted and Kal calming running. “I said ‘toro’, not ‘oso’, you need to practice your Spanish, Kal.” Y/N said and placed Henry’s plate on his side of the table. Henry came running downstairs with his hair wet but he’s dressed in some shorts and a t-shirt.

“Thanks love, it looks amazing.” Henry said, kissing her.

“That’s good, now eat up, you’ve had a long workout.” Y/N said and that’s when she got a smaller plate, served herself a half scoop of rice, her half steak with 3 pieces of tomatoes and onions, and no eggs. When she sat down and said “let’s eat”, Henry looked at Y/N’s plate, then at his own.

“Darling, were you snacking while you were cooking again?” Henry asked, trying to find a reasonable explanation for the lack of food on his girlfriend’s plate.

“No, no, I didn’t snack at all. Eat before the eggs become cold.” Y/N pointed at him with her fork.

“Are you sick? You didn’t have to cook if you weren’t feeling well, love.” Henry said in a concerned voice.

“I’m fine Henry, I went to Fernando’s market today but the steak was too expensive so I only bought 2.” Y/N lied, she buys like half a pound of steak, there’s still 3 or 4 pieces in the fridge. Henry got up and grabbed his keys. “Where are you going?”

“To the market to buy more steak, what cut do you order a again? Med-ee-ya Libra de what?” Henry asked, opening the door,

“No no no, Henry, there’s no need for that, I can survive without bistec, please sit down and eat.” Y/N said, Henry closed the door, put down his keys, and sat back down.

“What about the eggs or the rice? I’m sure you could fill up on that, you told me you ate that when you were younger when there was nothing to eat.” Henry said.

“The last eggs were used on you, Toro. Now please eat before your food gets cold. You want something to drink? I got chicha (It’s a purple corn drink) if you don’t want soda.” Y/N said.

“Yeah, that’s fine, darling.” Henry said, when Y/N walked into the kitchen, Henry switched his plate for Y/N’s. When Y/N came back with chicha for Henry and soda for her, she saw what Henry did.

“Toro! You weren’t supposed to do that. You had a big workout, you’re bigger than me, you need all the protein you can get from this.” Y/N said, trying to switch the plates back but Henry refused.

“Nope, you cooked all this, you deserve to eat your delicious food. I could find something later.” Henry said,

“But you must be hungry, just eat it, I can make myself some potato quesadillas later.” Y/N said, attempting to get the plate back from Henry but he swatted her hand. “Toro!”

“I’m sorry love, but it’s for your good.” Henry said.

“I Don’t want you to be starving,” Y/N said,

“I won’t starve, my love. Watching you enjoy your food is filling enough for me.” Henry said and Y/N’s heart melted. She got out of her seat to sit on Henry’s lag, placing her hands on his neck to hug him.

“Amor, it’s a prank. There’s more steak in the fridge that I can fry up, there’s a lot of rice on the stove and plenty of eggs. Now please eat while I go serve myself more food.” Y/N said getting off him and grabbing her plate to do exactly that.

“You scared me, love. I was about to head over to the market…where is it by the way?” Henry asked,

“Haha, i can’t even tell you, I just know how to get there.” Y/N said, placing her steak in the pan and she watched Henry eat his meal.

“Delicious! This might even be better than your bistec empanado, did I pronounce that right?” Henry asked,

“Yes you did, Toro, but bistec empanado with sopita aguada is comfort food, along with quesadilla de papas, which I will be making tomorrow, I’ve been craving it,” Y/N said.

“That sounds so good, I have to make sure I work out even more. When I made you my girlfriend, I had no idea you would try to fatten me up.” Henry said and Y/N gasped, flipping the steak.

“I would never, how dare you accuse me. I’m gonna make flan for my friend’s birthday on Saturday so I’m gonna make another one just for us.” Y/N said and that made Henry laugh.

“I love your flan, darling. Your cooking skills put mine to shame.” Henry said. Y/N placed her steak on her place, serving more rice, and began frying an egg.

“I was born with that sazón, Toro.” Y/N said teasingly. She finished frying the egg, served it on her plate, and went to sit down. “Better?” Y/n asked, showing Henry her plate.

“Much better, my lady.” Henry said, kissing her. Kal barked. “Yes bear, you can have some steak too.” Henry said,

The End

Taglist: @warriormirkwood

[minteyeddevil]

Reactions to Calling Them Husband

(Silly little headcanon my sister and I were talking about, and also inspired by those dorky videos on tiktok lol.)

Lucifer:

You were at an event at the Demon Lord’s castle, surrounded by demons who were very interested in the human that seemed to tame the seven demon lords. Many of them surrounded you, asking you questions and just all around obsessing over you to the point where you were feeling overwhelmed.

As if sensing your unease, Lucifer was at your side instantly, his hand at the small of your back. “Need rescuing?” he teased, using his wings to barricade you away from some of the other demons.

You smiled up at him and as you were stepping away, you addressed a demon still trying to talk to you: “Sorry, I need to step away with my husband. Bye now.”

This made him almost stop in his tracks; almost. But he did stare down at you with the smallest sign of awe on his face that you would be brave enough to address him as ‘husband’ to another demon.

Once alone and out of ear shot of the others, he leans down and whispers to you: “Bold of you to address me as such in front of of the lesser demons. Can you imagine the rumors that are going to spread now?”

He silently enjoys the panicked look that spreads on your face for a moment before smirking and adding, “Not that I mind, of course. It will only cement that the wonderful human is all mine.”

Expect him to have a hand on you the rest of the evening and will smirk and beam the entire time if you address him as your husband again.

Mammon:

The two of you were at Hell’s Kitchen, having a small dinner together in celebration of passing your exams; Mammon by the skin of his teeth, but he still passed! When the waiter came up to take your orders, you looked at Mammon out of your peripherals, deciding now was the best time as ever to try out the new ‘prank’ you saw going around on Devilgram.

“Yes, I’ll have the sauteed wild hair liver, and my husband will have the shadow goose meat and egg lasagna. Thank you!”

He practically spit out his drink and just stared at you for a moment. Your smirk at him makes him fluster but he clears his throat and does his best to smirk right back at you.

“O-Of course you’d want the Great Mammon to be your husband! I’m the best demon out there and you’d better count your blessings that I would want a dumb human like you as my partner!”

You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow at him, and he clears his throat again, taking one of your hands in his. “Okay, okay! You aren’t a dumb human at all. In fact...you’re the best thing that has ever happened ta me. Would...would ya really want me as your husband, MC?”

You throw your arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek over and over at how sweet he is, and assure him that of course you would love to marry this dorky demon.

Leviathan:

The two of you were gaming away in his room, when he asked if you could order something for the two of you to eat. You knew the usual place he loved to get food from and decided to call them up; but a wicked idea came to mind as well. You wanted to see how he would react to you pulling that new prank that was going around.

You rang up the restaurant and began ordering the food the two of you wanted: “Yes, hi! Can I place an order for delivery? I would like a backstabbing sandwich with a blood strawberry juice, and my husband would like a spicy rainbow pizza with bufo egg milk tea...”

His headphones got thrown off the moment he heard you call him ‘husband’, and he was at your side in an instant.

“Husband? Did you just call me your husband?”

“Yes. Now shush I am trying to listen.“

He freaks out and flails a bit around the room, repeating the word ‘husband’ over and over. Until you are finally off the phone does he cling to you.

“Would you really want me to be your husband? This gross, ugly--”

You kiss him to silence his tiraid. “Of course, I would love for you to be my husband, Levi.”

Totally changes your usernames to something dorky to symbolize your relationships going to the next level.

Satan:

You two are hanging out in his room, studying together for some exams coming up at RAD. He is the best tutor you know of, so of course you are clinging to him for dear life to help you pass. But, he is also the love of your life, so spending any time with him is wonderful for the two of you.

You were sitting on his bed, finishing up a study sheet, when you noticed that you would need another one of his books that was across the room. You looked over to him and gave him the best puppy eyes you could.

“Hubby, do you mind getting that book for me?”

He got up to get said book, but froze midway in his movement. “Hubby? As in...husband?”

“Yes,” you tease, and suddenly he is on you, no book in hand whatsoever.

“Did you really just call me your husband? Because if you did, you are going to have to call me that again, and in front of my brothers. I hope you know what you are signing up for.”

“Clearly I know,” you say with a smirk as you push back against him. “Husband.”

Needless to say, there wasn’t much more studying getting done the rest of that evening.

Asmodeus:

Shopping was a favorite past-time for the both of you, and it was always done together. He was your personal stylist and you a literal model for him; it was quite the exchange, but very enjoyable for the two of you.

You were perusing a section of brightly colored clothing, when you decided to get his full attention: “Hubby, do you think this would look good on me?”

He was at your side instantly. “Did you...did you just call me hubby?” His eyes are wide and he has the biggest smile on his face.

“It just felt natural to call you that. I hope that’s okay.”

“Okay!? It’s beyond okay! Oh my gosh I can’t believe you called me your husband! We need to take a picture and post about it on Devilgram!”

He continues to gush about being your husband, and address himself as such to anyone who gives him an ounce of attention.

Also, totally takes you to a jewelry store to find matching rings for the both of you to wear to seal the deal.

Beelzebub:

You were cooking in the kitchen, when you figured you needed some help reaching for something high in the cabinets. Beel was usually the one around when it was your turn to make dinner, so you decided to call for him.

When he didn’t reply, you tried again: “Beel? Beelzebub!?”

You let out a heavy sigh, and decided to try something new to get his attention. “Where is my helpful husband when I need him!?”

He appeared in the doorway almost instantly, a look of shock and surprise on his face. “Did you...just call me your husband?”

You laugh at the shocked look on his face and motion for him to come help you. “If you don’t get this for me, I might just take it back...”

He moved so fast. You couldn’t help but laugh at his eagerness to help you. He even offered to carry you on his shoulders to get things higher up as needed.

He stayed by your side while you were cooking, his eyes never leaving you. As if he couldn’t take it anymore, he wrapped his around your middle and nuzzled into your cheek.

“Could you...call me your husband again?”

you turned in his arms and hugged him close. “As many times as you like.”

Belphegor:

The two of you were cuddled up together, watching a movie. The idea had been gnawing at the back of your head for some time now, so you figured you were try out the prank on him and see what his reaction would be.

you turned to him and asked, “Husband, could you get us some popcorn from the kitchen, please?”

“Sure,” he mumbled, and got up to head to kitchen. He disappeared through the doorway, and for a minute you thought he didn’t really hear you; until he shot back into the room.

“Wait...did you call me ‘husband’?”

You broke into laughter at the look of confusion on his face, and reassured him that you indeed called him that. He smirked at you and came up to you, towering over you on the couch.

“So I’m your husband now,” he chuckled, leaning down to nuzzle you. “Better make sure you keep calling me that. I really like how it sounds.”

Diavolo:

You knew you had to be careful pulling this prank with Diavolo, given his status and reputation in the Devildom. So it was best to do it when it was just the two of you alone. Given that he had invited you for tea, you figured it would be fun to try it.

You arrived at the Demon Lord’s castle, and Barbatos escorted you to the little room where you both would usually have tea. There was already an assortment of cookies and sweets set up along with the hot tea, and Diavolo was smiling widely when you took your seat.

After a bit of conversation, you figured now was the best time to try it: “Husband, could you pass me a few of those cookies please?”

He was reaching out for said cookies, when he froze and gave you the most dumbfounded look, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. But it was soon replaced with a beaming smile.

“Husband? I really like the sound of that.”

He took your hand in his, and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I don’t mind at all if you wish to call me that more often...”

Barbatos:

You were spending time with him in the kitchen of the Demon Lord’s castle, watching him work and move around with ease. He was so handsome and joy to your eyes that you couldn’t help but sigh out loud.

“Aren’t I the luckiest, having such a handsome husband.”

If you looked closely, you could catch the slightest hitch in what he was doing; but he kept working as if nothing happened.

For a moment you thought he was going to ignore you; or maybe he hadn’t really heard you given that it was such a small mumble from your brain to begin with. But instead, he said:

“And I the luckiest in return to have such a doting partner.”

you flustered, only the blush even more when he turned around to look at you and walked over to lean and press a kiss to your forehead.

“If you intend to be a distraction, I hate to admit it’s working. My precious little partner.”

Simeon:

You were curled up with him, reading a book together, when a shiver ran through your body. You tried snuggling up to him more, but eventually caved and asked if he had a blanket you could use.

He covered you up and cuddled under the blanket with you, an around wrapping around you to hold you close, and you gave contented sigh.

“Thank you, love. You’re such a good husband.”

You said it so causally that it seemed to go unnoticed for a moment; until you felt him tense next to you. He turned a bit to face you, eyes wide.

“Husband? Me?”

“Of course,” you assure him. “You are so kind and caring towards me, and always take care of me. I love you, my precious husband.”

He felt his heart thudding in his chest so hard he swore it would break right through his ribs. He pulled you into a tight hug and places kisses all over your head and face.

“I do hope that you will keep calling me that. It makes me feel so special...”

Solomon:

He had come to visit you while you were in the human realm, and the two of you were walking around the park near your house when you got a phone call from one of the brothers.

He didn’t mind the interruption; but part of him did feel jealous you were talking to one of the brothers, up until you said, “Oh, I am spending the day with my husband.”

He could hear the screaming coming from the phone and laughed along with you at their reaction; but he then leaned in close to you once you were off the phone and whispered, “So I am your husband now?”

“If you want to be,” you teased in return, placing a hand on his chest.

“Oh, I truly do,” he replied, pulling you in for a tight hug and kiss.

From that point on, he referred to himself as your husband to anyone you came into contact with, including the brothers whenever they called and you were around him.

[kyufessions]

photographer

pairings: non-idol, photographer! jaemin x afab! g.n. reader

genre: smut, 18+

word count: 1.4k

warnings: cockwarming, use of pet names (baby, ‘princess’, daddy), unprotected sex (wrap before you tap!), nothing else much it’s just a quickie

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois

nct taglist: tba

watching jaemin edit his photos was always fascinating to you. the way his fingers ever so carefully adjusted the settings on each photo to make the aesthetics match and adjust certain areas in the photo to make everything pop more- it never failed to amaze you at how an amazing eye he has for his job. but something about the way his fingers graze the mouse as his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, his gaze focused intently on the screen as he relaxed with his third cup of coffee in nothing but his boxers and black tank that hugged on his body in all the right places. his hair was messy since all he did was wake up, make himself some coffee and get straight to work since his deadline was only five days away.

but something about him being hard at work, watching a small slither of coffee escape the corner of his lips and trickle down his face and drip onto his chest just did something to you. you weren’t sure if it were the hormones or if you were just madly in love with every little thing your fiancé did, but seeing him pursuing his passion and thriving in it while looking effortlessly alluring drove you mad. and even worse: you couldn’t do anything about it. because one thing about jaemin is that once he’s in the zone, it’s hard to get him out. and so you gave up trying, but today had to be different. you were too needy and your fingers can only do so much since you’ve gotten used to jaemin’s for so long.

entering the office where jaemin did his work, you had brought in an egg salad sandwich to him for lunch and a large water bottle to make sure he eats. instead of wearing your regular pajamas, you had changed into some underwear he had recently bought for you and borrowed a t-shirt of his- hoping it would catch him off guard. but, low and behold, he was too busy with work to acknowledge the change. he mumbled a thank you as he focused, grabbing your hand and placing multiple pecks on it before opening the water bottle with his hand and taking a long gulp.

pouting, you wrap your arms around his torso and place a longing kiss on his cheek. no reason. “baby~” you whined, leaning down and laying your head on his shoulder. placing a small kiss to his shoulder, you turn your head to look up at him. “it's been a few hours, shouldn’t you take a small break? maybe we can go to the gym together for an hour then come back or something?”

he shakes his head, placing his free hand on top of yours and rubbing circles into the back of it. “i’m too busy for any of that right now baby, but thank you for offering. maybe later tonight or tomorrow?”

this isn’t going to go anywhere, you thought. taking matters into your own hands, you swing your leg over the armchair and straddle yourself on his lap comfortably. thrown off guard, jaemins hands automatically fly to your waist to hold you in place. his eyes are now looking at you, a smirk on his lips as he realizes why you wanted him to spend time with you. “ah, i see.” his one hand makes his way under your shirt, his smirk never faltering as he squeezes your ass before smacking it to earn a yelp from you. “tell you what: if you can last on daddy’s cock for thirty minutes, im all yours for the rest of the day. how does that sound?”

you nod happily, quickly taking jaemin’s member out of his boxers and slowly levering yourself down onto it. letting out a small moan, you can’t help but notice jaemin attempt to hold back a groan as his face ever so slightly contorts. smiling to yourself, you adjust how you sit on his cock and wrap your arms around him. as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, you already know how this situation will end up. you’ve both tried cockwarming and it never worked out- one of you ended up getting too needy and needing more action so you already knew one of you would cave before the thirty minutes and you were gonna make sure it wasn’t you this time.

jaemin continues on his work for the next few minutes, enjoying the warm you’re providing him and it actually helping him focus better. just as he’s taking a bite of his sandwich he feels you moving on his lap, earning an involuntary low moan to leave his mouth. “princess-“ he mumbles before getting interrupted.

“i know, baby. i’m sorry. i’m just getting more comfortable, i swear.” you weren’t, and he knew that. you both did. but regardless, he let you continue on as he did the same with his work.

a few more minutes pass and everything is fine, until he feels you squeeze around him out of nowhere. digging his nails into your hip, you yelp and move upwards on his dick in surprise which earned another moan from the man. smiling to yourself, you sit back down fully on jaemin’s cock but not before he starts to guide you on his lap. looking over at the clock you notice it’s been only fourteen minute’s exactly. letting out small whimpers, you place your hands on his shoulders and lean back fo look him in his eyes.

“what about your work? i don’t think it’s been thirty minutes yet.”

he shakes his head, eyes now changed from focused to full of nothing but lust. “i don’t care, you feel too good.” was all he said before he started thrusting up into you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he did so.

both your moans quickly fill the room, the sounds of your wet pussy adding to the atmosphere. jaemins one hand moves under your shirt as the other moves to your clit, rubbing slowly to bring you closer to orgasm. smiling at the sight in front of him, his own moans mix in with yours as he relentlessly pounds into you. if he weren’t hungry for you before, he was certainly hiding it well with the way he’s currently acting. before you knew it, the shirt you were wearing was thrown across the room and landed on the shoe rack by the door.

jaemin latches his mouth onto your breast, his tongue circling the sensitive nipple before taking it into his mouth as his eyes never break eye contact with you. you watch as he sucks on your breast, the pleasure building up quickly but not wanting to release so soon. the familiar pit in your stomach was growing quickly and wouldn’t leave, but you didn’t dare come yet- not when everything felt this good. but jaemin knew you were close by the way you would squeeze him, his moans becoming faster whenever you would do so. he wanted you to come, and he was going to make sure you did no matter how long it took him. whether it took him one minute or one hour, he was going to make his princess come hard around him.

you watched as he bit down on your nipple, making you jerk your hips at the satisfying feeling. you wanted to hold on longer, but jaemin knew your body so well it was getting nearly impossible. “just come already princess, please.” jaemin commented as he pulled away from your chest with a pop!, his saliva running down both the corners of his mouth and down his neck. “i know you’re close, daddy is too. come for me.”

was all he needed to say as you released all over him, a mixture of both come releasing as well as some squirting action occurring all over his lap. but jaemin didn’t care, this feeling was all too good to him- especially as he pounded into you relentlessly to chase his own high and coming right into you right after you had. smiling to yourself, you lay your head into his chest as you try to catch your breath. your legs were starting to cramp a bit but it was okay, it was worth it at the end of the day. nothing compared to quick at-home office sex with jaemin, because although it was always fast it definitely left you satisfied and begging for more.

[sturniolos-blog]

could you write a matt fic where it's Estrella's first day of kindergarten please

First day(s) - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - sad, cuteee, fluff, swearing

disclaimer‼️: i added Mailo’s first day of pre school in here too!

—————————

8:08am

Estrella was standing on a step stool, giggling to herself as i do her hair. I look at my five year old weirdly.

“Why are you laughing, el?” I let out a chuckle myself as i brush her hair through, her letting out a small ow as i brush through a knot.

“I’m just so ‘cited momma! I get to go to kindergarten!” She squeals in excitement.

I let out a fake gasp, “No way! When are you moving out?” I ask her, parting her hair down the middle and doing small rectangles on each side for the hairstyle i was doing.

Estrella giggles loudly, “Mommy, i can’t move out yet i’m only this many old!” She tells me, holding up five fingers.

“Oh right, so next year?” I ask her, touching up her hair and the pretty new hairstyle that goes great with her outfit.

“Nooooo!” She says, letting out a frustrated sigh. I forget sometimes how easily she gets angered, she did not inherit that from me.

“Okay, i’m just kidding, baby.” I kiss her forehead as she looks in the mirror, “You look so pretty, love!” I compliment, “Do you like it?”

Estrella nods her head, “I love it, mama! Thank (pronounced fank) you, mommy.” She turns around on her step stool and hugs me before jumping off the stool and running out into the hallway.

“Don’t you dare run down those stairs, Estrella!” I yell from the bathroom, starting to clean up the hair ties on the bathroom sink.

I hear her feet slow down and hear her start to walk downstairs normally, i laugh to myself.

I then walk out of the bathroom and go into Mailo’s room, he was sleeping peacefully. I let out a sigh, Matt was supposed to get him already.

I lean down and kiss his forehead, “Mailo, buddy, you have to get ready for your first day of pre-school!” I rub his back to wake him up as he was laying on his stomach, his face was all sweaty from sleeping.

Mailo let out a small tired sound, “No mama!” He said, pushing my hand off of him.

“Come on, kid, work with me.” I rolled my eyes, Matt is usually good at waking him up.

Mailo then rolled over and looked at me, his eyes darting around the room before looking at me. “I want daddy.” He whined.

I nodded, “Okay, but daddy’s gonna want you up and at least out of bed when he gets up here.” I shrugged.

“No!” Mailo said with a whiny tone.

I gave up, standing up and walking out of the room and downstairs.

I walk into the kitchen to see Ella eating bacon and eggs at the table and Matt making a few more plates, presumably for him, me and Mailo. “I know, Ella, mommy did a great job on your hair.” Matt compliments.

“Matt, can you go up and get your son ready for preschool? He’s already complaining and i am not dealing with that.” I complained as I walk to the fridge and pull out fruit for Ella and Mailo’s lunch.

Matt looks at me with a confused look, “I did get him up..?” He says, putting three plates on the table.

I start to cut up some fruits, “Did you stay in there and watch him physically get out of bed or did you say get up and then leave the room?” I asked, cutting up watermelon for Estrella and grapes for Mailo.

A look of realization comes on Matt’s face. “Oh..”

“Matt, come on. Go get him now!” I raise my voice slightly.

Matt lets out a chuckle, “Okay, i’m sorry.” He comes over and kisses my cheek. “I love you.” He says in my ear before going to walk upstairs.

“Yeah yeah.” I roll my eyes playfully.

“Mommy? Do we get naps in kindergarten?” Estrella asks me, eating a forkful of scrambled eggs.

“No, sweetheart. You are an official big girl now. Big girls don’t take naps.” I tell her, putting the fruit back and grabbing out ingredients to make two sandwiches.

“But you take naps and you’re a big girl.” Ella says, taking a sip of milk from her cup.

I laugh, “Well that’s different, baby, i’m a big girl with two kids and a childish husband, i have the right to take naps.” I say, finishing making their lunches.

Ella nods, “Oh!” She says before picking up her plate and bringing it over to me. “All done!” She says, the plate was practically empty, which is crazy because Ella is a really picky eater.

“Good job, honey.” I tell her, walking to the sink and putting her plate in their before Matt and Mailo come into the kitchen.

Mailo had his hair combed nicely and had put on a nice outfit.

“Alright, we got him up.” Matt says, talking about Mailo.

I scoff, “Finally.”

—————————

9:04am

We pull up to Mailo’s preschool, getting out of the car all together.

Mailo grabs my hand as Matt carries his backpack for him, we walk into the preschool, Ms. Smith comes up and greets us. She was Ella’s preschool teacher so i remember her.

“Hi, the sturniolo’s! Oh, i’ve been so excited to meet Ella’s little brother! I am Ms. Smith, and you must be Mailo, am i right?” She asks as she points at Mailo.

Mailo nods shyly, him digging his face into my leg, holding tightly, i stroke his hair softly.

“Hi, Ms. Smith, nice to see you again too. Mailo obviously is a little more shy then Ella was on her first day, he might take a little to warm up.” Matt speaks softly as Ella was holding Matt’s hand, smiling.

“Well, that is perfectly okay! Would you like to look at the room, Mailo?” Ms. Smith asks with such a cheery tone, she was so nice and good to Ella.

Mailo looks up at me, i give him a nod to say yes.

“Okay..” He mumbles, his voice was quiet.

Ms. Smith then puts her hand out for Mailo to take, Mailo hesitantly takes it, grabbing on my leg for me to go with him, but i shake my head.

“You got this, buddy, come on.” I said as Ms. Smith softly pulled him in the room.

Mailo’s eyes start to water, “No, i don’t wanna!” Mailo yells.

“Mailo, look at all the other kids here! Come on, we have dinosaurs, games..” Ms. Smith tries to get our stubborn three year old to listen.

Mailo pulls away from her grip and runs towards me, crying into my leg as he holds tightly.

I crouch down, “Mailo, Mailo, look at me, baby..” I whisper, he looks at me. “Deep breaths, bud.” I tell him, demonstrating a deep breath myself.

Mailo coughs a couple of times before breathing normally.

“We will be here when the day is over, it will go by so fast and i promise you probably won’t even wanna leave.” I tell Mailo, Mailo shakes his head.

“Mama, no! Please!” He holds onto me tightly.

I tear up and shake my head, god i didn’t think it would be this hard.

“We have to go, baby, i’m sorry.” My voice cracks.

Matt puts his hand on my shoulder and rubs softly before letting go of Ella’s hand and grabbing onto Mailo’s, walking into the room with him.

Ella gives me a hug, “I love you, mama..” She says, hugging my waist.

I let out a laugh as i sniffle, “I love you too, Ella.” I say, rubbing her back.

Matt then comes out of the room and shuts the door.

“He stayed?” I asked as Estrella grabbed onto Matt’s hand again.

Matt shook his head, “I didn’t tell him i was leaving, when he turned around i left.” Matt said, looking sort of guilty.

I sighed but nodded before clasping my hands together, “Estrella, are you ready for your first day?” I asked her as we walked out of the building.

Ella jumps up and down as she was in between Matt and I, holding both of our hands. “I’m so ‘cited, mommy! I did this last year it was so easy! I don’t know why Mailo was so nervous!” She shrugs.

“Me and you both.” Matt laughs.

—————————

9:26am

We get to Ella’s school, walking into the building, we walk her to the front desk.

“Hello, can i help you?” The person at the front desk asks.

“Hi! Uhm- this is Estrella Sturniolo, We are dropping her off for kindergarten with Mrs. Gold.” I smile politely.

The lady nods and smiles at me, “Okay, her room number is 225, down the hallway and too the left.” The lady instructs.

“Thank you so much.” Matt says, “Come on, Ella.”

We walk and get to the class room, a teacher, presumably Mrs. Gold is standing in front of the door way and greeting kids.

“Hi, this is Estrella Sturniolo.” I tell her as Ella waves.

Mrs. Gold waves back to Ella and nods at me, “Oh my god! You’re hair is so cute, tell me Estrella, did you do your hair yourself?” Mrs. Gold leans down and asks.

Ella shakes her head and giggles, “Mommy did it for me.” She whispers, pointing up at me.

“Well she did a great job, do you wanna head inside and go find your name tag?” Mrs. Gold asks.

Ella looks up at Matt and I quickly before looking back at Mrs. Gold and nodding, walking into the class with no problem.

“Wow..” I laugh, “That was easy.”

Mrs. Gold nods, “She will be okay here, i can assure you both she’s already such a bright student.”

Matt nods, “Yea, she’s something,” He clears his throat before looking at me, “Ready?” He asks if i’m ready to go.

I nod before i see Ella run out of the classroom and up to us, she hugs Matt first, her arms wrapping around his waist.

She then lets go and hugs me tightly, “I love you guys, see ya later!” She says.

“We love you too, sweetheart.” Matt tells her, i nod, agreeing with him.

She walks in the classroom and waves goodbye.

“Have a good day guys.” Mrs. Gold smiles at us.

“You too.” I say before Matt and I walk out of the building.

We get in the car and Matt looks at me, “What?” I laugh.

He leans in and kisses me sweetly before pulling away but staying close.

Matt sighs, “I miss them already.”

—————————

i pushed through and got this doneee im tired im gts but i hope you guys like this i personally liked it but lmkkkk love yalll

tag list: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo

[spicyclover]

Sometimes you need to cry over a sandwich...

Summary: Sometimes, pregnant hormones make you cry over a sandwich. 

I’m cleaning my draft because I have too much.

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

I'm open to requests.

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: It’s inspired by a TikTok I saw. I can’t remember who it was, but if I find the account, I’ll update it. 

“Why are you crying?” Ask Daniel, pointing the camera at you. 

“I want a Starbucks sandwich, but at every Starbucks we go to, they’re out of the one I want.” you cry. 

“Do you want me to make you that sandwich?”Question Daniel while trying not to laugh. “I already told you I’d do that.”

“No! Because the eggs aren’t good when you make them yourself...”

“Which one did you want?” Ask your sister, giggling. 

“It’s the croissant with eggs and bacon.” you start laughing while crying because you know how ridiculous you are being.

“Do you want me to go to a further away one? To get you that?”

“No...”

5 minutes later.

“I hate that I’m crying over a sandwich. And I can’t stop.” You keep crying in the kitchen, looking in the fridge to eat something, while Daniel laughs at you. Getting his coat to go buy your stupid sandwich. 

[emo-batboy]

Battinson and Food

He’s vegetarian and I will hear none of your crap

Depression meals, so many depression meals

I already made a post of his greatest hits here but here's three more:

A whole tub of apple sauce

Instant grits mixed with a hot chocolate packet

And a bowl of croutons

Some meals have actually graduated from the “Depression Meal” category to “Whenever I Can Sneak It Out of the Kitchen” status (because Alfred is appalled every time)

Dick, with the invincible, titanium-lined stomach of a 9yo, doesn’t know why Bruce makes them, but he loves taking bites of Bruce’s weird concoctions.

His favorites so far are:

Cream cheese and jelly sandwich

Spoonfuls of peanut butter (with chocolate chips, that was his idea)

And frozen garlic bread

Diner Food is King. (This is New Jersey. What did you expect?) His go-to order is two eggs over easy, well-done rye toast, grits with syrup and butter, and a fruit cup with no melons from the 24-hour place two blocks east. Hasn’t changed since he was five. Never will.

Bruce can cook food that is edible. Edible.

Like if he tries to make Italian, he can successfully cook the pasta. He can make a basic sauce. He can even plate it.

The tomato sauce is crunchy in some places, yes, but it’s fine :) and it is edible

but Bruce has NEVER succeeded in a baking endeavor, and it positively devastates him every single time

“Baking is science! I love science! I’m great at science. So why didn’t the cake rise when I did everything on the recipe?!” “You need to make it with love-“ “That wasn’t on the ingredients list, Alfred!”

He can handle spice surprisingly well. It’s not like he could avoid it while training all over the world, so he ended up building a tolerance, but his eyes still go unbelievably red every time.

He really fucks with bagels (I mean, what self-respecting Gothamite doesn’t) and he has a very specific bagel order for every possible mood from the great place downtown

The workers at Bagel Kingdom know which moods correspond with which order, and they have a designated spreadsheet taped to the back of the counter so they can work accordingly.

They know he’s barely hanging in there when he gets a toasted blueberry bagel with no butter.

He’s having a good day when he gets a plain bagel sandwich with tomato, provolone, two fried eggs, and hot sauce. In that order. That’s the shit

When he’s stressed, he gets a pumpernickel bagel with strawberry cream cheese to cheer himself up.

The workers of Bagel Kingdom will NOT let you disrespect his bagel.

Bruce almost burnt the tower down when he tried to cook a toaster waffle in the microwave while running on 40 hours without sleep, and he just kept cooking it because it wasn’t crisping for some reason

Alfred needs to force him to eat all the time

(It is definitely because Bruce suffers from disordered eating.)

There was one period of time in which Bruce went days without food, and Alfred (lovingly) threatened to send him to in-patient if he didn’t eat

Bruce said that those gross, mushy, lukewarm blueberries were the only thing he’d tolerate when he was struggling, so blueberries became their indicator: if Bruce can’t stomach blueberries, he goes to in-patient.

He’s gone twice, and Bruce was very mad each time, but he still uses healing methods that he was taught in there so it couldn’t have been that bad.

(He’s also friends with some of the nurses now. He, Denise, and Kayleigh have a group chat.)

Dick once convinced him to test taste different kinds of olive oil to learn the difference between regular and extra virgin. It was absolutely disgusting, and he ended up puking an hour later. Alfred now puts child locks on the kitchen cabinets.

The first time Bruce ever makes a meal that doesn’t look horrid is when he spends two weeks practicing Romani dishes for Dick the month after he adopts him.

He has since perfected three different recipes:

Stuffed peppers

Goulash

Cabbage rolls

(Keep in mind Dick is not vegetarian like Bruce.)

He tried making almond cake like 80 times (which is more like a biscuit but still a baked good) but could never do it right so Alfred makes them instead.

At dinner time, Dick always eats off Bruce’s plate more than his own. Alfred has chastised him several times, but Bruce only encourages him more. He thinks it’s cute. And so does the general public when they attend dinner parties.

One of Bruce's favorite memories of his parents is when he had a bad dream in the middle of the night so Thomas and Martha drove him out to the nearest diner to have a chocolate milkshake at 3 am.

Now, after patrol, if Bruce saw something traumatic or something that reminded him of his parents’ death, he’ll go to that same 24-hour diner and sit for a bit with a chocolate milkshake.

He continues this tradition after Dick becomes Robin. (Even if it took months for Bruce to even consider the idea of letting Dick near harm’s way.)

No matter how hard he tries to keep Dick away from the gruesome stuff, he can’t stop everything. They get milkshakes a lot more than Bruce would like.

But eventually, it turns into a treat whenever Dick does well in school or needs a pick-me-up.

And when they add Jason to the mix, they introduce him to the tradition as well.

They know everything will be okay when they have chocolate milkshakes together.

[ereardon]

Snowed In || Friday [Jake Seresin x OC]

A Jake Seresin AU miniseries

Summary: When a massive storm shutters every airport in New York, you receive an unexpected call. Jake Seresin, the ex-boyfriend of your college roommate, is stranded at JFK with nowhere to go. Somehow you find yourself hosting Jake for a long weekend in your studio apartment. What happens when you realize that maybe your long-standing hatred for him was covering up something else? 

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Ella Finnley]

Trope: Forced proximity; enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, references to cheating, eventual smut

Wordcount: 3.2K 

Masterlist here

“And this just in. More than a foot of snow is expected in areas across the Tri-State, with Scarsdale already at seven inches and counting. LaGuardia has shut down their runway, with Newark and John F Kennedy airport soon to follow.” 

You groaned, flicking off the TV and opening the cabinets. They were predicting the worst storm in two decades and somehow all you had in the cupboard was a lifetime supply of ramen noodles and red wine. 

Outside, the snow was falling in soft clumps. You looked out the window which overlooked Fifth Avenue. Very few cars or taxis were on the road, and the people who were outside looked miserable. 

And then the phone rang. You dove for it, expected it to be your mom with yet another tidbit of news that she thought was groundbreaking, as if you didn’t already know that Diet Coke was bad for you, but the male voice on the other end startled you. 

“Ella?” 

You squinted, pulling the phone back and registering the caller ID. Jake Seresin. You groaned. “What could you possibly want, Jake?” 

“Nice to hear from you, too,” he replied and you rolled your eyes. It had been a decade since you last heard from Jake Seresin. He was just as obnoxious as you remembered. 

“Listen, Seresin, if you called just to give me shit, I didn’t need a reminder that you’re a dick. Memory serves well enough. Goodbye.” 

“El, wait!” 

You frowned. “What?” 

His voice softened. “I’m sorry to do this,” he said and you felt your stomach tightening. “But you’re the only person I know in the city.” Jake paused. “I’m stuck at JFK.” 

“Don’t eat the egg sandwich,” you said, recalling a moldy sandwich you had gotten once at the airport on the way to Berlin. “Have a good flight, Jake.” 

“Ella, I’m stranded,” he said and you groaned. “Can I stay with you? Just until the airports open back up.” 

You looked outside. In the two minutes since Jake had called, snow had started to fall faster, coating the streets and sidewalks and innocent pedestrians. 

“I’m sorry,” he said and for perhaps the first time that you had known him in almost fifteen years, Jake Seresin sounded genuine. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t my only option.” 

Jake Seresin. The last time you had seen him, he was standing in the doorway of your college apartment with a bouquet of flowers that Suzannah had grabbed and trampled on in fury. 

“Ella? Are you still there?” 

“Fine,” you said, surprising even yourself. “Fifth and 12th Street. Apartment 4B.” 

“I owe you, El.” 

“Two days, Seresin,” you replied. “Anything more and you get a hotel.” 

“I’ll see you soon.”

***

You had hated Jake Seresin for as long as you could remember. Or at least, since the first time you saw his smug face in a poli sci lecture. He was sitting in the back, drinking a cup of coffee and doodling on a notebook. At the end of class, he had come right up to you and asked if he could copy your notes. When you said no, asking why he hadn’t taken his own notes, he had called you sweetheart and shot his best grin. 

You turned on your heel and walked away. 

Two years later, your roommate Suzannah has been stupid enough to fall for his charm, and you were treated to the unfortunate experience of having to listen to the two of them having sex behind the thin walls of your apartment. More than once you had stumbled into a shirtless Jake in the bathroom, smelling like sex and acidic cologne. Once he had walked in on you naked and instead of hurrying out like a normal person, he had leered. 

You had doubled down on your hatred for him from that moment on. 

When the doorbell buzzed you sighed, peering at the small ring camera before pressing the buzzer. “Come up.” 

The minute between buzzing him in and Jake knocking on the door felt like a century. It always did. There was something so awkward about shuffling around, waiting for the door but not wanting to be too eager to open it when the knock finally came. 

Taking a deep breath, you swung the door open. 

Jake Seresin in the flesh. The same goofy, brilliant grin from a decade before. Sandy blond hair dotted with melting snowflakes, cheeks ruddy and pink from the cold. He wore a light jacket, far too light for the extreme weather, and held a duffle bag in one hand, cowboy boots soggy and wet, dripping on your doormat. 

“Jake.” 

He smiled, leaning in for a hug and you pulled back at the last second so he stumbled over the threshold. Jake righted himself. “Ella. Still hate me, I see.” 

You turned, shaking your head. The sound of the door closing was followed by the plop of Jake’s bag on the ground. “Shoes off,” you called out, and there was a clattering as he kicked off his boots. 

Jake appeared a moment later, his jacket removed, revealing a tight henley shirt and a pair of jeans. He took a look around the studio. It was surprisingly large, for New York standards. Not Sex and the City unrealistic, but nice, with an alcove to the right that held your queen sized bed, a large couch against one wall and a dining area in the center. 

The galley kitchen off the main hallway was large and the bathroom was relatively spacious for a studio. It had just been you for so long that you didn’t think twice about the size. But something about Jake in your space made you realize maybe it wasn’t as spacious as it looked to your smaller frame. He hulked in the hallway. 

“Nice place,” he said. “Been here long?” 

“Four years.” 

He tipped his head. “Always knew you were going to end up in New York, didn’t you?” 

You sighed, plopping down on one end of the couch, crossing one leg over the other. “What are you doing here, Seresin?” 

“I told you, I was stranded at the airport,” Jake replied, stepping forward and taking a seat on the chair opposite of the couch. You grimaced. His outdoor pants were touching your indoor furniture. That was the downside of having guests. If Jake could even be considered a guest. Don’t guests have to be invited? Or wanted. 

“On your way to where? Somewhere without extradition laws?” 

Jake rolled his eyes. “Ten years, Finn. Ten years and you haven’t changed.” 

“Have you?”

The words clung to the air. The elephant in the room. It didn’t matter that it had been nearly a decade since the last time you had seen Jake Seresin. 

His betrayal still stung, even if it had never been directed at you. 

“Ella,” he whispered. Outside, the sky was darkening. Without the constant bumper-to-bumper traffic that was a given on Fifth Ave, the street was uncomfortably dark. There was a dampness that chilled your bones, even from the comfort of being inside. “Please. Can we just put aside the past for the next few days?” He looked older. Small lines at the corners of his eyes. Jake Seresin had a loud, boisterous laugh, you remembered that about him. The way he could liven up a party. The way he could make you feel like you were the only person in the room. 

This time you were. 

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Finn?” he said, bringing back your nickname from college. “Truce?” 

You leaned back against the soft white couch cushion. “Fine.” 

Jake grinned. It was magnetic and you hated him for it. “Well, let’s celebrate then. Got anything to drink?” 

“Been here one minute and you need a drink already?” you asked, standing up. Jake’s eyes roamed over your leggings and sweater as you made your way into the kitchen, emerging a moment later with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Someone never got over their frat days I see.” 

Jake reached out, taking the bottle from your hands and turning it on its side. “You must be doing OK,” he said. “This is a one hundred dollar bottle of wine.” You handed him the wine opener and he undid the top easily, sliding out the cork and laying it on a stack of magazines on the marble coffee table. 

“Anything is better than that Franzia shit you used to love.” 

Jake ignored your comment, instead turning the bottle and reading the label. “I did a wine tour in Lebanon a few years ago. This was one of my favorite vineyards.”

You frowned, holding out a glass and he tipped the neck of the bottle against the thin rim, dribbling it into your glass. “So did I. That’s where I got that bottle.” You pointed to the 2015 Chateau Musar in his hand. 

“What were you doing in Lebanon?” 

“Writing a story,” you replied. “What about you?” 

“Went with a friend,” Jake said. “We met in Portugul and decided fuck it, let’s go to Lebanon.” 

“Still wildly dependable I see.” 

“I have a job, Ella. I’m an adult.” 

You laughed, tugging your knees to your chest. “Oh yeah?” 

Jake nodded, setting the bottle of wine down. You let your eyes roam over his fancy jeans, cashmere socks, shiny watch that you hadn’t noticed before. Maybe he wasn’t lying. Maybe he was doing OK for himself. 

“Fine,” you said, taking a sip of your wine. “You have a job. Slow clap. Who doesn’t?” 

Jake shook his head. “Still bitter,” he replied, tilting his glass to his lips. “Whatever happened to you and Connor Gray?” 

“Oh God,” you muttered. “Fuck no. Do you know what he’s doing now? He’s a fucking DJ in Bushwick.” You mimed gagging. “I’d rather eat my left foot than date some Chelsea-boot-wearing guy who drinks craft beer and tries to serenade me on a hot rooftop in Brooklyn on his shitty guitar.” 

Jake tipped his head back with a laugh. It filled the room. You had almost forgotten how boisterous his laugh could be. 

“What about you?” you asked. “Any poor unsuspecting women?” There was no ring on his finger, no tan line or dent to show that perhaps he was divorced instead. 

“Nope.” Jake put his glass down. “Single.”

“Really? Jake Seresin, single.” 

“It’s hard out there, Finn,” he said, his voice hitting a register you couldn’t quite place. Something between sadness and begging for understanding. 

“You were never without a date to a formal in college. Couldn’t even go out without girls throwing themselves at you.” You shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think the player in you would just shrivel up and die the minute we hit thirty.” 

“I’m still twenty nine,” Jake corrected. “And I don’t know what to tell you, El. It was fun for a while. But then I started to feel kind of gross. Like Leo DiCaprio. A new girl all the time. I couldn’t go to a single wedding without people asking about the girl who I had brought to the last one. But she was long gone.” He paused. “Couldn’t tell you the last time I saw the same girl for more than a month or three dates.”  

You frowned. Jake Seresin, a reformed manwhore? Not possible. 

He shrugged. “There, is that my dues for the night? Told you my dating life so now you owe me shelter from the storm?” 

“For now,” you said, standing up. “Interrogation can resume later. I’m hungry.” 

“Then let’s eat.” Jake looked outside. “It’s pretty shit out.” 

“Agreed.”

“What do you have for food?” 

You winced. “Honestly? I mostly eat out, so not much.” 

Jake stood up, brushing past you so closely you could feel his broad chest press against you for a second on his way toward the kitchen. “I’ll figure something out. You relax.” 

“Relax? With you in my apartment? Fat chance, Seresin.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Going to be a long weekend, isn’t it, Finn?” 

***

Jake somehow managed to make a perfectly edible dinner out of the almost-expired food in your fridge and what was left in the pantry. The two of you sat at the small two-person table you had pressed against one set of windows overlooking Fifth Ave. 

Anyone looking in might think it was a date. Even though Jake had dated Suzannah for almost a year, you two had barely spent any alone time together. That’s how you always tried to keep it with your friends’ significant others. A simple conversation here and there, usually while your friend was showering or getting ready or coming back from the store. 

Never like this. 

After dinner, Jake insisted on cleaning. As if it would make up for the countless times he had left shit in your apartment sink in college. You stood at the window, watching the snow pummel from the sky, coating the street in a thick blanket that it couldn’t shake. There was no one outside walking around. It felt apocalyptic and you cringed knowing that you still had at least a day alone with Jake and nothing to do but be in each other’s presence. 

“It’s dark in here,” Jake said, startling you. You turned as he reached for the overhead light. 

“Stop,” you said and he froze. “Lamps, dumbass. Why do men always want to use ceiling lights? Do you like being bathed in fluorescent light?” You strode over to the dresser along one wall, flicking on a candle warmer lamp and another small lamp on the far side of the room. Warm light spilled out into the room. 

“Does it matter?” Jake asked. 

“Yes.” 

Jake shook his head. “Alright, Finn. I’m all yours. What do you want to do?” 

“You mean other than throw you out in the snow on your ass?” 

Jake stepped closer. “Am I really that bad?” he whispered. 

You looked up. Clear green eyes, perfect almond tanned skin. Hair swept back in a carefree manner. You could tell why Suzannah has lost her fucking mind over him all those years ago. He really was too pretty to be true. “Maybe.” 

Jake looked around. “Well I would say I can get out of your hair for a few hours, but there’s not really many options.” He was right. Minus the alcove where your bed sat, the apartment was a pretty open floor plan. 

“Let’s just watch TV and watch the minutes tick by on the longest day known to mankind.” 

Reluctantly, you settled down onto the couch and flipped on the TV. After scrolling for a solid five minutes, Jake groaned. 

“What, Seresin?” you demanded. 

“Take longer,” he complained. 

“Fine, you do it.” You shoved the remote into his chest, trying to ignore how nice his chest felt beneath his shirt. 

Jake took the clicker and flicked through the apps before settling on a movie. 

“No,” you argued. 

He turned to you with a grin. “It’s a guilty pleasure. Humor me, Finn.” 

You grimaced as Twilight started. Jake laughed his way through the serious parts of the movie, cackling out loud at the spider monkey bit and you found yourself laughing along next to him. God, Carlisle really was hot. So was Charlie. That’s how you knew you were almost thirty. 

By the end of the movie, the two of you had shifted comfortably on the couch. You were no longer three feet apart. Instead, your feet were crossed over each other, almost precariously touching Jake’s where they sat propped up on the coffee table. 

It was the first time in years that you could remember sitting through an entire movie without some guy trying to feel you up or make a movie. 

The credits started to roll and you reached for the remote just as Jake did. You pulled your hand back like it was on fire and he handed it to you. “Sorry,” Jake said softly. His voice had grown huskier in the hour and a half since the movie started. “Your TV. Your remote.” 

“It’s fine,” you said and it was gentle. He smiled. There was something devilish about Jake Seresin’s smile. It was too perfect. You cleared your throat. “I, um, should get to bed

“Me too.” 

You stood up, clicking off the TV. The room felt darker without it, just the soft lamps illuminating small circles of light. “I’m going to shower. I’ll get you some blankets and pillows. The couch should be big enough for you.” 

“Thanks, El.” There was something so genuine about the way he said it that threw you off. Who was this stranger and what had he done with the dickwad from Stanford? “For letting me stay.” 

“See how much you like me after a night of sleeping on that,” you replied, digging in the closet near the hallway for pillows and a comforter, dumping them in Jake’s arms. “Do you, um, need to use the bathroom first?” 

“I’ll go after you.” 

In the shower, you were acutely aware that no more than twenty feet away, Jake Seresin was fiddling around in your apartment. You had spent hundreds and hundreds of hours with him at Stanford, but this was different and you both knew it. When you entered the living room, steam pummeling out of the bathroom door, Jake looked up from where he stood shirtless in the living room. “Oh, God!” you exclaimed, holding one hand up to your face. “What the fuck?” 

“Fuck, fuck, sorry!” Jake grabbed for his t-shirt on the couch, tugging it on. “OK, you’re safe. All clear.” 

“This isn’t Barcelona, Seresin,” you complained, stepping toward the dresser and sliding open a drawer, pulling out a pair of silk pajamas. “Or a rave in someone’s basement.” 

He sat down on the edge of the couch cushion. “Been that long since you’ve seen a shirtless guy, huh, El?” 

You hated that he was right. “Fuck off.” 

Jake chuckled. “Sorry, couldn’t help it.” 

“Maybe that’s why no girl wants to date you for more than a week,” you snapped. “Because you’re a dick.” 

Silence hung in the air, thick like the snow clumping on the streets outside the window. You held your breath, letting your lungs sit there and burn. Jake’s eyes haunted yours. 

You felt bad. Never had you ever expected to feel bad for Jake Seresin. Golden boy. Womanizer. Player extraordinaire. But this was obviously a sore spot and you knew it. 

He looked sad, sitting in your apartment living room in the near-dark, face drawn and quiet. An unease squeezed at your stomach. 

“Jake, I–”

Jake stood, cutting you off. “It’s fine. I’m going to use the bathroom if that’s OK.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

You watched his frame disappear down the hallway, rounding the corner into the subway tiled bathroom. As you sat down in your silk robe at the edge of your bed, the silence in the apartment, usually so comforting as an alternative to the bustle of the city outside, felt stifling. When Jake returned in the dark, flicking off the final light and settling onto the couch, you held your breath, waiting for him to say something. 

But nothing ever came. The two of you laid there, ten feet apart, separated by a wall of silence. 

You had spent ten years who knows how many miles away from Jake Seresin and never given him another thought. Why was it that ten feet now felt like a lap around the equator? 

The chill in the room wasn’t in your head and it wasn’t from the blizzard outside. You and Jake had created frost all on your own. 

Tag list [using my list from The Off-Season since it's my most up-to-date Jake list but if you're not interested in these types of fics just let me know!):

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@teacupsandtopgun @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @blue-aconite @seresinhangmanjake @eminyourjeans @shawnsblue @babyminghao @sadpetalsstuff @angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @wkndwlff @mygyn @oneelleandaneye @averyhotchner @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @rxmtoon @valkyrja-siren-blog @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @clancycucumber230 @theharddeck @redbarn1995 @shanimallina87

@memeorydotcom @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @gretagerwigsmuse @djs8891

@blackcatdhisgf @fangirlvoice @buckysteveloki-me  @eli2447 @bellaireland1981 

[ohdeerfully]

Thank you so much for adding Sir Pentious to your blog 🥹🎩🐍 I’m new to fic requests, and either a drabble or HCs would be amazing no matter which you pick, so here goes…

Could I please request platonic Pentious with a hotel resident reader who’s new to hell and visibly going through a rough time? Between being dead, dealing with their new demon body, and facing another extermination after just surviving the last one, they’re clearly struggling despite putting on a brave face. And secret softie that he is, Pentious decides he ought to intervene, whether it’s drag them along on activities take their mind off of things, or just stick with them until they open up enough to vent to him?

Thank you very much again!

Signed 🪼 Anon

Hii 🪼! Thanks so much for requesting my very first Sir Pentious oneshot >:3 I hope i wrote him okay! I don't know his character super well, but he's super fun!!!

Do His Egg Bois Know He Eats Egg Sandwiches

Sir Pentious x Reader (platonic)(fluff) TW: reader is depressed ):

join my discord!

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You had been at the hotel for a year or so now, having been found by Charlie during your first night in Hell. Ever since then, even in the comfort of the hotel and surrounded by the kindness–and chaos–of Charlie and her friends, you still couldn’t really believe or cope with where you were. Thinking about it, and the fact this was eternity–it made you feel like shit. And that goddamn tail of yours that kept getting in the way of everything, and the pair of hypersensitive ears that forced you to listen to the “screams of the damned” all night. You wondered if you’d ever get used to the new limbs. 

You currently laid flat on your bed and staring at the ceiling, not really thinking about much in particular. Honestly, the boredom you currently felt was comforting; better than the depressive episodes you’ve been dealing with, at least. It has gotten worse lately because of the impending extermination, but you took care not to think about it too much, less you choke and breakdown in anxiety.

A neat rapping of knocks roused you from your mindless comfort, and you slunk your way to the door. Before opening it, you made sure that your appearance was as neat as possible. You heaved a breath, smiled, and opened the door.

Sir Pentious stood on the other side, his sharp fangs peeking under his lips in a bold smile. “Charlie hass asked me to…” You smiled slightly at that appropriately snake-like lisp of his. “...take you out in town! For some… fun,” His bold smile slowly quivered, becoming more and more uncertain and anxious as his invitation became quiet, nearly dying on his lips. His hands were nervously folded behind himself.

You quirked your brow at him, leaning softly on the doorframe. “Why would Charlie ask you to take me out?” You replied, not intentionally aggressive, “Wouldn’t she usually just… do it herself? Or at least tell me first?” You noticed the way Sir Pentious nervously flicked his tongue a few times as he considered your words.

“Well… I… er,” He struggled for a moment, until suddenly his eyes lit up with an idea. “Well, Charlie wass, and I wass going to take EVERYBODY out! But, eh, they’re all busy.” His head tucked slightly, sheepishly, and you watched as the hood on his neck seemed to squeeze closer to himself. He was so obvious.

You ran your hand through your hair, thinking for a moment. Sir Pentious stared at you expectantly, with a mix of anxiety and excitement in his narrow eyes.

You could either stay inside, locked in your room, waiting for nothing, melting in your own depressive thoughts and worries; or, you could just go out and try to have some fun with the snake standing in front of you. You haven’t been out in town much, despite being in Hell for a year–you were always too worried. You didn’t have the energy to go out in the first place, so the anxiety you felt made it all the more difficult to drag yourself out of bed to explore.

Ah, what the hell.

“Sure,” You accepted, albeit a bit apprehensively. His spine immediately straightened out as you accepted his offer, his eyes practically glowing with pride at himself. He gave you a curt nod, a grin, and turned to slither away.

“Meet me in the lobby in twenty minutess!” He called, before disappearing around a corner.

And, so, you did. You had quickly washed yourself, and scrounged around your dirty laundry to find a decently clean outfit, making note that you should get to work on washing everything when you got back. Hopefully this outing would give you a bit of energy to do some chores.

He was waiting by the bar, his fingers rapping against the countertop. He was obviously trying to be patient; you knew he had a temper. You appreciate him trying, though.

“So,” You began as you came near him. He whipped his head around when he heard your voice. “What’s your idea of… fun?”

“Follow me!” He declared boldly, ushering the both of you out of the hotel. You saw his airship was ready to go, a small ramp leading to the entrance. You nervously smiled at the sight, wondering what he had in store for you. You briefly wondered how Charlie would react knowing Sir Pentious was, very likely, up to no good.

Those eggs of his were already waiting inside, as you saw one peek around the frame of the door. It jumped at the sight of Sir Pentious ascending the ramp, skittering away before coming back with the others. They all watched from the doorway.

Your worries of Charlie were dispelled when Sir Pentious explained that he wanted to go to a strip of stores a few blocks away. You decided not to ask him why he chose to take his airship to just go a few blocks away; he seemed very excited to show off the interior to you, explaining what this button did, and oh, did you notice this lever? Just wait till you see what this knob does! You were genuinely surprised at how complex his build was. Sir Pentious was a lot smarter than everybody gave him credit for.

His eggs were always in your way, and you had to take extreme care not to stumble over or smash one. They were always getting up close to you in order to examine you, or touch your clothes. You were growing irritated at them, honestly, but clenched your jaw to ignore the growing frustration.

It had taken a short time to get to the street, and Sir Pentious ‘parked’ his airship in the air, hanging down a sturdy ladder for the two of you to descend onto the street. You stared down nervously, air whipping at your face.

“Sir Pentious… I don’t think…” You timidly looked down, and then back up to him. He stood there proudly, hands on his hips. He frowned at your apprehension.

“Nonsense!” And he shoved you, his toothy grin quickly disappearing from your vision as you staggered out of the opening below. 

“What the fuck!” You cried, tumbling for a brief moment in the air, your tail whipping wildly to try to straighten yourself out. You were able to grab a rung of the ladder, probably just a few seconds away from smacking into the road. Your heart was beating so hard you were worried it would give out.

“What. The fuck.” You said again, venom practically dripping from your words as you glared at Sir Pentious, who was easily using his two arms to make his way down, tail curled on the ladder for extra stability. If you could kill him with your eyes, you would. 

You continued the last few rungs, arms shaking so hard with adrenaline that you had to make a few attempts to grab the rope with every step.

“Now,” Sir Pentious began, looking around after you were both firmly on the ground. “I believe there iss… some sort of place for foodstuff. There!” And he quickly left you behind after eyeing the shop. You quickly followed when he paused to wave you forward.

It was a pretty standard lunch spot, with the standard Hell foods that you saw for sale in the hotel’s own cafeteria. You ignored the description of the food, knowing that if you thought too hard about what the meat was made out of you would be too sick to eat. Food was another thing in Hell that you just couldn’t get used to.

Sir Pentious ordered some sort of egg sandwich with a soda, and you opted for a salad of sorts with some mystery meat and a colorful array of toppings. You tucked yourself neatly into a chair, poking at the contents of your bowl for a minute before trying it. It really wasn’t that bad.

Sir Pentious was tentatively sipping at his soda, his tiny nostrils flaring at each intake of the carbonated drink. You saw the level of soda go down, up, down again, up again, as he tried desperately to keep the drink in his mouth.

“Do you… not like soda?” You asked behind a laugh. He put on a face of shock at you.

“Of coursse I do! Everybody drinks it! How weird it would be if I couldn’t!” He went back to daintily dragging at the straw. You saw the up and down of the drink continue. You rolled your eyes at his attempt to seem hip. It really wasn’t that serious.

You had ordered some tea, and you pushed the glass towards him.

“Wanna trade?” You asked, and his eyes lit up. “I like soda more than tea.”

“Yess!” He said, a bit too excited for his own taste, obviously, because he immediately lowered his voice. “Of course, only for you. I don’t care either way. But ssince you do,” He swiped at your glass, quickly replacing it with his soda. You honestly weren’t really interested in drinking it, knowing that a lot of it had already been in his mouth and spit back.

After you had both finished, a bit of casual small talk between bites, Sir Pentious paid, to which you thanked him multiple times for, and he simply stuck his nose up and dismissed you, saying it was his responsibility for being the one to offer to take you out.

You actually enjoyed your time with him, which surprised you, because you never thought you’d enjoy the company of the temperamental snake. But, you could tell he tried his best to remain level-headed with you. You wondered if he knew how shitty you’ve been feeling.

When you arrived back at the hotel, you were incredibly thrilled that Sir Pentious was able to park his airship on the ground. No more getting shoved out of tiny holes from the sky. You saw Charlie carefully eyeing the two of you as you came inside, her focus mostly on a conversation with Vaggie. She was likely trying to see if there were any signs of “bad behavior” coming back into her hotel.

Sir Pentious  leads you back to your room, rambling about some invention of his, his words dripping with pride. You were only half listening while you fumbled for the keys to your room.

His words stopped for a moment when you opened the door, and you could tell he was looking at the terrible disarray your room had come to during your periods of doing nothing during depressive episodes. You let out a nervous laugh, closing the door just enough for you to block his line of sight as you leaned against the door.

“Hey, thanks for taking me to get some food,” You smiled at him, and he returned your smile with his own. You could tell there was a softness in his expression, and you kind of hated it, knowing that it was probably coming from a place of pity after seeing the state of your room.

“You know, if you ever need somebody to talk to, I conssider myself a great listener,” He began, and you felt weird hearing the softness and genuineness of his voice. Though you weren’t to sure about the ‘great listener’ part. “Of course I offer my earss to everybody here!” He quickly added, trying to prevent himself from sounding too touchy-feely. You grinned at him and shot him a quick thumbs up.

“Thanks, Pentious,” You backed up into your room, giving him a short wave. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He waved back at you, giving you that fanged grin of his, before you shut the door. You turned on your heel, and stared at the mess you called a room.

Time to do some cleaning, I guess.

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

No Place Like Home

Request: So I just finished watching this movie with my grandparents it’s a black and white movie 😂 but I loved the story line so the summary of the movie was “A Christmas angel is sent from Heaven to help a desperately stressed frustrated businessman by showing him what life would have been like if he had never existed after the things he said to his wife out of frustration but he didn’t mean but he was to stubborn to apologize and it went with he will apologize tomorrow but he wakes up to the angel instead”

I could definitely see this with jack being like this and being a pain in the ass when being stressed and saying things he didn’t mean like “well you don’t gotta be here for me I’m fine alone” or something like

Warnings: language

A/N: this is an adaptation of 'It's a Wonderful Life' from Jack's perspective. Jeff Probst is the host of Survivor, one of Jack's favorite shows. This is a work of fiction and does not portray any real life events or the people mentioned in the work.

Jack never really cared much about Christmas until he met you. Sure, he loved the holiday just as much as the next guy, but besides spending time with his family, it never went deeper than a holiday where you exchanged gifts for him.

You on the other hand loved Christmas, it was your favorite holiday, and a reminder of how lucky you were to have the things you had and people who truly loved you in your life. You made every day leading up to Christmas special, and throughout your relationship, some of your cheer started to rub off of Jack.

This year, though, he was really struggling to get in the holiday spirit. It seemed like no matter what he did, or how hard he tried, things just weren't going his way. He hit a creative roadblock, he liked to refer to it more like a giant brick wall, in the studio, and there was no way he was going to make his end of the year deadline to put out a new single.

At home, baby boy was close to arriving and you were on doctor mandated bedrest, so Jack had to pick up all of the slack, taking care of the house and getting the girls back and forth from their many commitments. He really didn't mind it, but it was obvious that he wasn't the primary caretaker, and he was struggling with the smallest things. The girls had their set schedule, and without you, things were just a big mess.

Add to that the fact that the two of you had been at odds lately, and Jack wasn't sure how much more he could take. You could blame it on pregnancy hormones and Jack could blame it on his stress, but you weren't talking unless it was absolutely necessary, and the silence was killing him.

There wasn't even a tree up in the house, and if he didn't think too hard about it, it felt like just another Tuesday.

In short, Jack couldn't wait for Christmas to be over.

****

"Ok, we need to leave for school in five minutes, so eat quick." Jack let out a stressed huff as he placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Aaliyah at the dining table. "I don't wanna eat that", she pushed the plate away with a look of disgust on her face. "What? Since when?" Jack would honestly admit he had no culinary skills, and cooking eggs was his limit. "I wanna have a bagel."

"We don't have any bagels, baby. Now eat." He paced around the kitchen, haphazardly throwing a sandwich and some snacks into Brooklyn and Aaliyah's lunchboxes.

"Dad, I need you to sign this permission slip." Brooklyn waived the paper in front of Jack's face, already dressed and ready for school. "What's this for?"", he asked, running a hand through his messy curls.

"For me to play soccer. I told you about this. Tryouts start today." Jack could barely remember to brush his teeth lately, Brooklyn playing soccer had completely slipped his mind. He scribbled his signature down, handing the slip back to Brooklyn. "Don't forget. You have to pick me up after the tryouts. 5:00."

"Yes, I will be there." Jack nodded, making a mental note of the time. He checked his phone. "Fuck", he swore under his breath. "We're gonna be late. Alright, lets' go." He ushered the girls out of the door, slamming it shut behind him.

"Daddy, you said a swear word." Aaliyah chastised him as she climbed into the back seat. Jack let out a huge sigh, feeling his chest constricting. He just really needed to get through this morning.

****

"I've got some bad news, man." Angel turned to Jack, nervously messing with the buttons on the control board. Jack went straight from school drop off to the studio, knowing he needed all of the time he could get to work on this song.

He was distracted on his phone, searching for last minute Christmas gifts for you. You had taken care of the girl's presents throughout the year, but he was struggling to find something to get you that would make up for all the fighting the two of you had done lately.

"Jack." His head shot up at Angel. "Sorry, what's going on?"

"The single, the record label didn't approve it. Its a no go."

"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me." Jack's jaw angrily flexed at the news. "Did they say why?"

"Drama said it wasn't fresh. The same thing everyone is putting out right now." Angel hated to be the barer of bad news, but Jack wasn't willing to listen to any of his feedback, and unfortunately, he saw this coming from a mile away. "I've got this sample I think would be-"

"No, I wanna go with the original beat I chose. We just need to keep working it until we get it right." Jack knew he was being stubborn, but he needed this song to be perfect, and he was a control freak. "We're not leaving here until we get this song right." Jack stood up to head back into the booth. He closed his eyes as the track started, sound coming in through his headphones. He just really needed to get through this song.

****

It was after 9:30 when he finally got home, and when he spotted you in the hallway, visibly upset, he knew he was in trouble. "What are you doing up, you're supposed to be in bed." Jack slipped off his shoes and jacket and walked toward you. You held up a hand when he tried to lean in for a kiss, moving to rub your hand over your overly pregnant belly. You could have burned holes through walls with the glare you were giving him. "What's wrong?"

"Did you forget something today?" You tipped your head waiting for his response. Jack could only stare at you, his mind was truly blank. "Brooklyn, Jack." The reminder hit him more like a bat to the head than a lightbulb turning on. "Oh fuck." Jack shut his eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I forgot to pick her up today."

"Yes, you did, Jack. I had to get out of bed and pick her up. She was inconsolable." It was unlike Jack to forget something as big as picking up his own daughter, but lately it felt like he was missing a lot of the important things. "Why didn't you pick up your phone? I tried to call you." Jack pulled his phone out of his back pocket, completely forgetting he had put it on 'Do Not Disturb' while he was in the studio.

"I'm so sorry, baby. Time just got away from me. I'm under a lot of pressure to get this song done." You let him put his hands on your bump, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Go apologize to your daughter please", you sighed. Jack nodded, rushing up the stairs to Brooklyn's bedroom.

He laid a couple soft knocks on the door. "B, baby, daddy's sorry. Can we talk?" He listened as he heard her get up and the door swung open. She still had tear stains on her cheeks, her eyes red from crying.

'Where were you? Did you forget about me?", Brooklyn asked as she wiped her face with her sleeve. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I just got caught up at work."

"I was so embarrassed! Having to sit there while all of my friends were getting picked up", she cried out. Her face broke Jack's heart. "I know, I'm so sorry. It will never happen again."

"It doesn't matter. I didn't make the team anyway." She gritted out before shutting the door in Jack's face. He raked his hands down his face, his stomach twisting with guilt.

You were in the bedroom, tucked under the covers, reading a book when Jack came in. You could see his shoulder slump over as he sat at the edge of the bed, holding his head in his hands. "I really am sorry about forgetting to pick up Brookie." His voice sounded so defeated, and you couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

You got up on your hands and knees to crawl over to him, sitting back on your haunches. "Jack, I'm not sure what's going on lately, but it seems like you've got your priorities all mixed up." You laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. He let out a curt laugh, nodding his head. "You're right. I can't even disagree with you."

"Maybe you need to take a break from working for a little bit." His back tensed up at your suggestion. "Just until things settle down."

"Why is that always your answer for everything? For me to stop making music?" Jack stood, turning on his heels to face you, his face contorted with frustration.

"Its not. You're overreacting." You both felt another fight coming on, and Jack was really too tired to get into it right now, but it was like he couldn't stop himself.

"Oh, I'm overreacting? It's like nothing is ever good enough for you." He had no control over his words, weeks, no months, of frustration bubbling over. "I stop touring as much because you asked me to be around more, but that's not enough for you, so I cut back on my studio time, but oh no, that's still not enough for you. Now you want me to stop making music all together?" His throat was dry as he spoke, desperately trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Jack, that's not what I mean. I just think that you need to look at how important other things in your life are now. Its not just us anymore, we've get kids to think about. They always come first." You ignored a cramp in your back as you stood up.

"Baby, I am always thinking about them, and I always put you first, but my career is important to me. Its a part of who I am." He pushed a finger in his chest to solidify his point. "Why do you want to try to take away the one thing that I've always been so sure about?"

"I don't. Its just sometimes", you took a deep breath, "sometimes I wish you weren't 'Jack Harlow'. I just think things would be a lot easier if you had a different career. It makes everything so damn hard." You bit at your bottom lip realizing that wasn't what you meant to say, but it was too late to take it back.

"What are you saying?", his brow furrowed with anger as he took a step back out of disbelief. "Are you saying you wished that things were different? That all of this was different?" He was for sure jumping the gun, but that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach only grew louder as you spoke. "No, Jack. That's not what I mean at all."

"Well, that makes one of us." He took in a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring. "What are you saying?", you pushed back.

"I'm saying that sometimes I wish I could go back. I feel like I made a lot of mistakes that I wish I could fix." He grabbed his keys off the dresser. "I'm gonna go back to the studio, don't wait up." You felt tears sting your eyes as you watched Jack walk away. He just really needed to get through the night.

****

A couple of hours had passed and Jack was no closer to finishing the single then he was when he arrived. He could barely keep his eyes open as he tried to fix the arrangement to no avail.

"Why can't I just get this shit right?", he pulled at his curls before roughly shutting his laptop closed. He wanted to go home and crawl into bed next to you, but it felt like the wrong thing to do, so he would have to settle for the crappy leather couch at the back of the room.

Every muscle in his body hurt, but he was tired enough that as soon as he closed his eyes, he could feel himself drifting off to sleep.

"Hey, Jack. Jaacckkk. Its time to wake up." Jack stirred in his sleep to the sound of a voice. "I just need 5 more minutes, okay, Liyah, and then I'll make you breakfast, okay?" He turned on his side, trying to go back to sleep.

"I really think you should get up, Jack."

Jack's eyes shot open when he realized the voice didn't belong to his little girl, but instead a grown man.

"Aah! What the hell?" Jack jumped up off the couch, hurrying to his feet at the sight of Jeff Probst standing over him. "How did you get in here?" Jack rubbed his eyes just to make sure he wasn't dreaming, but when he opened them, the host of Survivor was still standing there.

"I mean, people usually are a little happier to see me, but given the circumstances, I won't take it personally." Jeff shrugged, giving Jack his signature host smile.

Jack began to pace the room, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. "Oh my god. I'm going crazy. I have truly lost my mind. You have to be some kind of figment of my imagination." In his mind, there was no other explanation.

"You're not going crazy, Jack. If anything its the exact opposite." Jeff sat down in one of the chairs by the control room, his hands gesturing in the air. "This is your moment of clarity and I am here to guide you."

"So what? You're my guardian angel or something?", Jack asked with an incredulous look on his face.

"Sure, if that's what you want to call me. Its your story."

Jack shut his eyes tight again. "I have to be dreaming. Maybe if I lay down again, I will wake up and you won't be standing there." Jack quickly swung his feet up on the couch, scrunching up his face as he tried to go to sleep. He thought he was coming back to reality after a couple of seconds.

"Are you done freaking out now? You're right, though, you are dreaming. Unfortunately for you, you're not gonna be able to wake up until I've shown you everything. ", Jeff remarked, pushing a variety of buttons on the control board.

Jack let out sigh, allowing the insanity to sink in. He really didn't want to move, but his guardian angel was annoying the shit out of him putting his hands on everything.

"Can you stop doing that? You don't even know what you're doing." Jack stood, turning off all of the equipment.

"Oh good, now that you've acknowledged me, we can get to work."

****

Jeff snapped his fingers and suddenly Jack was standing in the middle of an empty school hallway. He glanced at a banner that read "Highland Middle School" and he realized he was standing in his old junior high. "How the hell did we get here?" Jack was more scared than interested.

"Relax, its all just a dream. Do you know where we are?". Jack nodded, "We're in my old middle school."

"Yep, were it all started for Jack Harlow. The start of your music career. It was here that you used to pass out your CDs and people started to figure out who you were." Jeff let out a whistle that echoed through the empty hall. "This is a piece of history for you."

"Okay, so what?" The point was lost on Jack. He remembers that time as being very difficult, he was relentlessly bullied by his classmates that thought he was a fraud. "You said you wanted to go back and change things, so let's see what would have happened if you never believed in yourself." Jeff snapped his fingers again and the hallway filled with teenagers rushing to get to their respective classes.

"Coming through!" Jack braced himself when he saw a kid running toward him full speed, but he passed right through Jack like an apparition. Jeff chuckled at Jack's shocked face. "I guess I should have laid down the ground rules. None of this is real, just a figment of your imagination. We're strictly here to observe. Now." Jeff turned Jack to face the opposite direction. "Do you recognize anyone there?"

Jack blinked a couple of times to clear his vision. At the end of the hall, a couple inches shorter and with much longer hair that hung over his glasses, stood a younger Jack. He was passing out CDs to everyone who passed him. Most people blew him off or chucked them in the trash when he was out of view, but Jack was relentless, his music blasting over a small stereo he borrowed from his mom. "I would hardly say this was the start of my music career. The music I made back then was shitty." It was mostly ripoffs of popular songs at the time that Jack would put his own lyrics too.

"Sure, I guess you could say that", Jeff shrugged, "but it was the start of your confidence as an artist. It was this and all of the shows where only a handful of people showed up that gave you the drive to keep going." Jack still wasn't convinced.

"I think if I could go back. I would have quit while I was ahead. Things only got harder from there." Jack sighed,

"If you insist." Jeff snapped his fingers and Jack jumped at the sound of a loud crash. He looked over at his younger self who was trying to pick up all of his CDs as a much larger student stood over him.

"Harlow, you actually think people are going to listen to your shitty music?" The bully pushed him against the wall hard, making his glasses fall to the ground and shatter. "Stay out of my way, or your glasses won't be the only thing I break." Young Jack cowered as the bully bucked at him, his friends behind him roaring with laughter.

"Hey! We can't just let him, I mean me, get bullied like that." Jack tried to take off but Jeff stopped him. "Its not real, remember? You can't interfere." Jack let a sharp breath out of his nostrils. "I remember that guy, Tim Hudson. He used to make my life a living hell. Last time I heard he was at some dead end job, and never left Louisville."

Jeff nodded. "Yep, works as a mechanic." They both watched as young Jack gathered all of his CDs, most of the cases shattered and threw them into a nearby trashcan. "If you never kept handing out your music and making a name for yourself, Tim eventually graduates and becomes pretty successful actually."

Jack let out a humorless breath. "So its my fault that he ends up the way he does in real life? C'mon, you can't make me believe that I'm responsible for anyone else's future."

Jeff sighed, giving Jack a contenfull smile. "You don't get it, do you? I think its time we go to our next stop."

****

Jeff snaps his fingers, and Jack doesn't recognize the building lobby they're standing in. "Where are we? i've never been here before." Jack's head is on a swivel as he looks around, a bunch of businessmen in suits rushing past. "Just wait."

"Can you just take me back-" Just as Jack was losing his patience, a man that looked a lot like Urban walks by. "You have to be kidding me." Jack scoffs as he recognizes his best friend, undoubtably looking a lot different, his hair cut short so he blends in with every other wall-street prick here, dressed in a plain black suit, briefcase in hand. It was like all of the life had been sucked from him. "There's no way that's Urban. I can't believe it."

"Oh, believe it. If you never started working on your music, you and Urban never really hung out anymore, and while he tried to keep working on his photography, because you never got signed for a record deal and started touring, you didn't need a photographer and he had to get another job. Got into law school and everything."

"Law school?" Jack couldn't believe what he was seeing. Urban always thought not following your passion meant selling out, and this went against everything he believed in. "So, because I didn't give out CDs in the hallway back in middle school, my best friend becomes a lawyer?"

"Oh, the two of you aren't friends anymore. You haven't talked in years. After high school the two of you drifted apart and eventually went your separate ways. Urban got married, and moved to New York." Jack's head was starting to spin. No matter what happened, Jack always thought that Urban was going to be his best friend. Still, if it meant that Urban was successful in his own right, he was right to quit his music career. "Well, as long as he's happy, that's all that matters."

Jeff sighed, realizing Jack still didn't recognize his impact. "Jack, happiness isn't everything. Its fleeting, just a feeling, not always something you can count on. Urban loves working with you now. It wasn't always glamorous, especially at the start, but the two of you were facing the world together, following your dreams. There's nothing greater than that. C'mon, we've got places to be."

****

The third location Jack recognized immediately. "This is my wife's first apartment." It was exactly as he remembered it. Decorated a little too girly for his taste but smelled exactly like you; he had a lot of good memories here. His mouth hung open as he saw you walk into the living room, dressed in an evening gown. Even in his dreams you took his breath away, you were so beautiful.

"Let me guess", he turns to Jeff, "because my music career never took off, the two of us never met."

"Now you're getting it. You never met her at that industry party years ago, never had a first date, never had your first kiss at that door right there, never got married, never had kids together." Jack's stomach turned at that last thing. "We never had Brooklyn and Aaliyah?"

"Now are you seeing how everything is connected?", Jeff asked. Jack's ears perked up as he heard a knock at the door and you walked past him to open it. You smiled when you saw Drake standing on the other side of the threshold. "Ready to go baby?" You gave Drake a quick kiss before grabbing your clutch. "Yes, ready to go."

"Wait a fuckin' minute! You're telling me if I never met my wife she ends up with Drake?"

"No, I was just messing with you. Guardian angels need to have a laugh now and then too." Jeff lets out a hearty chuckle, but Jack doesn't find the humor in it. Jeff snaps his fingers to restart the scene. This time, when you open the door, Copeland is standing on the other side, sans arrow tattoo. "I think I'd rather she be with Drake.", he scoffed as he watched you walk out of the apartment.

"It doesn't really matter who she's with, the point is, she's not with you. You never meet, and you miss out on the greatest love of your life."

Jack had to sit down, he felt so lightheaded. "I don't know what you want me to see here." Jack admitted, his head beginning to pound. "Sure, things are different, but they aren't bad. If anything, these people aren't affected by me and my career, so their lives have to be better."

Jeff sat down at the chair opposite of Jack. "I have to say, out of all my clients, you have to be the most difficult. You really don't see what's happening here, do you?" Jack shook his head, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. "All I see are a bunch of people who I haven't disappointed in one way or the other."

"Okay", Jeff nodded. "I've got one more thing to show you, and if you still don't believe how much of an impact you've made on other people's lives after that, I'll let you wake up." Jack hung his head in his hands, his gaze to the ground. "Fine." Jack didn't bother to look up, hearing the snap of Jeff's fingers.

****

Jack stumbled when he realized he was no longer sitting, concrete beneath his feet. It was dark now, the only thing illuminating the darkness a neon sign. The building in front of him looked abandoned, the windows boarded up.

"The Neighborhood House, its one of the charities your foundation has funded. Without your donations, and the attention you've brought to this organization, they had to close one of their locations. That's one less location where kids can go to for after school care and family services. A lot less kids helped in the community, Jack."

Jack ran his fingers through his hair. "Is this supposed to be a guilt trip or something, make me feel bad for not doing more to help?" If it was, it was working, the guilt was eating him alive.

"Jack, your life hasn't always been perfect, but its always been good. You may not realize it, but by following your dreams and never giving up, you've given a lot of other people hope and purpose."

Jeff continued, starting to see Jack's face soften. "Without you, there is no foundation that has been able to donate to improve Louisville, Urban doesn't continue to follow his passion in photography, your wife never becomes a mother to two wonderful children with a third on the way. There is no The Homies because you never gave them the platform to promote their music. So many people won't have you to look up to when deciding whether they want to pursue their own dreams." Jeff placed a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"You say you've done a lot of things wrong, but Jack, you've done a lot of things right, too." Jeff's words hung in the air for a second. Jack never thought about the impact the good he did had on other people, he was only worried about disappointing them. "So what now?"

"Now, you get to wake up, and try to make the best out of the life you currently have. Its worth it. Good luck."

Jeff snapped his fingers for the final time.

****

Jack awoke with a a gasp, clutching his chest. He was back in the studio, and this time, there wasn't a TV host in the room with him. It had all been a dream, but he'd never been more sure in his life that this was the only reality he wanted to be in. He checked the time on his phone, realizing it was the next morning, and grabbed his things before running out the door.

The girls greeted him at the front door as soon as he walked in. "Daddy!" Brooklyn wrapped him in a tight hug, making Jack stumble back. Aaliyah was holding tightly onto his leg, the weight of her little body making it difficult for him to stand.

"We didn't know where you were." Brooklyn mumbled into Jack's sweater, pulling him tighter. "Yeah, Uncle Lay said Santa kidnapped you so you could go work with the elves." Jack laughed, picking Aaliyah up.

"Uncle Clay is right", Jack decided to play along for Aaliyah's sake, giving Brooklyn a wink because she no longer believed in Santa. "Santa called me up to the North Pole to help with the presents." He pushed a stray curl out of Aaliyah's face. "Did you tell him I wanted a new Barbie house?" Aaliyah whispered in his ear. "Jack chuckled. "I didn't leave until I knew he had it all wrapped up for you."

"Jack, baby?" You hobbled over to your husband as fast as your body would carry you, grabbing Jack's face in your hands. "What happened to you? I was so worried." You didn't even care that you were crying as your eyes searched his face. "I'm okay. I didn't mean to scare you." He pressed a kiss to your palm, giving you a small smile.

"Daddy! We have a surprise for you!" Brooklyn grabbed Jack's hand, leading him to the living room.

"The girls spent all day decorating. Your mom and dad even came over to help.", You smiled, rubbing Jack's back affectionately. The living room was beautifully decorated, the tall Christmas tree covered in lights and ornaments.

Jack looked at you when you grabbed his hand, his eyes glistening from the lights. "I'm sorry, baby. I should have seen that you were struggling. I don't want to change anything about the life that we've created together." You stroked his cheek with your thumb as you spoke.

Jack wrapped you in a tight hug. "I'm the one that needs to apologize to you. I took all of this for granted, but baby, you are the best wife and mother, and you're right, I always need to put you and the girls first."

"You do, baby. You always do." You pulled him in for a kiss, Jack careful of your burgeoning belly as he held you close. "I have to tell you about my crazy dream later", Jack whispered as the girls tried to get your attention.

"Daddy, we have one more surprise for you." Aaliyah swayed back and forth as she spoke.

The girls led Jack into the family room, where they had set up a movie night, complete with snacks and pizza. "We thought we could watch your favorite Christmas movie."

"Harry Potter?" Jack asked, a playfully surprised look on his face. You nodded, moving to sit on the couch. The family all got comfortable under blankets, Jack's arm around your shoulder while Brooklyn and Aaliyah clung to your bump.

You could feel Jack's eyes on you as you watched the movie. "Something wrong, baby?", you asked, turning to him.

"I just love you so much. Never forget that." He uttered out, and pressed a kiss to your temple.

Thinking back on it now, Jack realized he was foolish to ever wish for something other than the life that he had. It wasn't perfect, but it was his, and it was so much better than he could have imagined.

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[proxima-writes]

title: a million moments

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller/female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

chapters: 1/1

summary: a slice of a happy life with joel miller.

read on ao3 | masterlist

author’s note: this fluffy fic is based off of this gif set by @serenaxpedro , this ask, and this one! requests are open if you’ve got something you’re itching to read, and please consider leaving a lil comment if you enjoyed this fic! 💕

contents warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), no use of y/n, fluff!!!!, happy and soft pre-outbreak joel as the lord intended, established relationship, domestic as hell!!!!, discussions of marriage, pet names, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v, minor breeding kink. let me know if any are missing!

You’re finishing up breakfast, talking with Sarah as she tells you about a test she has coming up, when Joel shuffles into the kitchen, yawning widely as he scrubs a hand through his hair.

“My favorite girls,” he says, pressing a kiss first to Sarah’s cheek before wrapping his arms around your middle and leaning his head against your shoulder blade, eyes falling closed again. “Smells good.”

“I made eggs. Yours are cold because you kept hitting the snooze button,” you tease. You can feel his lips spread into a smile against your back. “Sit. Eat. I need to make lunches.”

He brings a palm up to turn your face to his, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips over your shoulder. The kiss is followed by three squeezes to your hip before he reaches past you to grab the plate you made for him, popping it in the microwave.

With the two Millers chatting behind you, you assemble their lunches. Sarah always requests a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, while Joel prefers to bring two ham and cheese sandwiches to work. They each get apple slices and a bag of chips, and you slip a Twinkie into Joel’s box as well, knowing he has a sweet tooth.

Which reminds you…

“Joel, don’t forget you have a dentist appointment at two,” you tell him.

“Shit. I mean, shoot,” he replies.

“Swear jar,” you and Sarah say in unison. The teen giggles as Joel grumbles under his breath, digging his wallet from his pants. He checks his watch. “Finish up, baby girl, we gotta get goin’.”

You watch as Sarah shoves the last of her toast into her mouth. Joel stands, sticking his plate in the sink and pressing a kiss to your cheek before he leaves the kitchen in search of his work boots.

“Babe! Have you seen—“

“On the porch!” You call, cutting him off.

You zip up Sarah’s lunch box, handing it to her as she flies through the kitchen.

“Thank you!” She calls, blowing you a kiss as she heads for the front door. You wave to her, watching through the bay window as Joel gets into the truck, waving through the windshield as he backs out.

You’re smiling to yourself as you clean up the sink, humming a vague tune as you stick the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. Your mind drifts back to the night you met Joel Miller, about a year ago.

“Please tell me you’re not about to rent that,” a masculine voice asks from beside you, making you jump, nearly losing your hold on the DVD case you were reading, a copy of The Lord of the Rings that was sitting in the new release section.

The man eyeing the DVD case is tall and broad shouldered, with biceps straining the material of his t-shirt. He has curly dark hair and kind brown eyes that are looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, uh, I was thinking about it. Is it bad?” You ask. He runs a hand through his hair.

“No, no, it’s a great choice it’s just…my daughter just finished the book this week and I told her I’d rent her the movie when she did,” he admits.

“Oh! You go ahead and rent it, then,” you tell him, holding the case out to him.

“Are you sure?” He asks, reaching for it. His fingertips brush against yours, the slight touch enough to leave you craving more as you return his bright smile. “I’m Joel, by the way.”

After returning his introduction with your own, he lingers for a moment. You’re just staring at each other with goofy smiles on your faces.

“Could I…make it up to you? With dinner?” He finally asks.

“I’d like that, Joel.”

You finish the dishes and grab a rag to wipe down the counters when you notice the lunch box still sitting there. You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you.

Checking the time, you head back to the bedroom to get ready for your shift at the hair salon, resolving to bring Joel his lunch during your break.

________

Joel sees your car pull up at the work site and his face splits in a grin. He tugs his work gloves off and goes to meet you.

“Well, hello there, gorgeous,” he calls. God, he loves the way your cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink just for him. “What’s the occasion?”

“The occasion, Joel Miller, is that you forgot your lunch at home,” you say, shaking the lunch box in your hand. He laughs.

“What would I do without you?” He asks, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Your head tips back to look at him and presses a kiss to your lips. “Stay to eat with me?”

“Sure. Let me grab my lunch. I’ll meet you at your truck,” you say, squeezing his hip three times as you pull away. He tugs you back for another kiss, swallowing your giggles. “Joel, let me go.”

“Never, darlin’.”

________

You’re sitting between Joel’s legs, your back pressed to his chest, in the bed of the truck. He’s parked beneath a large tree, the shade a relief from the Texas heat as you both enjoy your sandwiches.

“What are your thoughts on marriage?” Joel asks, apropos of nothing. You blink.

“In general? They’re positive ones. Why?”

You feel him shrug beneath you. “Just been thinkin’ about it lately.”

Your smile makes your cheeks ache.

________

Joel stops at the store on the way home, a spring in his step from a good day. He scrutinizes the flower selection, hands on his hips as he tries to pick out a bouquet. His eyes land on a bouquet of bursting pink peonies.

Perfect.

On the drive home, he hums along to the classic rock radio, fingers drumming in the steering wheel, flowers settled on the passenger seat with care. His mind drifts back to the conversation at lunch, and how you’d grinned at him when he mentioned he’d been thinking about marriage lately.

And it’s the truth, he’d been thinking about it a lot. Every time he turned over in bed and slipped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer. Or when he’d come into the kitchen and find you bent over Sarah’s math homework with a furrow in your brow as you tried to help her, despite math being your weakest subject. Or finding the little notes left in his lunch box, scribbled I love yous on colorful paper that he keeps in his glove box for safekeeping.

He thinks about it every time he opens his wallet and sees the folded photo strip of you, him, and Sarah, squeezed into a photo booth at a carnival as you make silly faces at the camera. Or when you’re getting ready in the morning, slicking lip gloss onto your pretty lips and he wants to kiss it all away.

There are a million moments that he thinks about marrying you.

Joel walks in on one such moment this evening. You’re alone in the kitchen, humming as you stir something in the pot on the stove. He steps up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs between kisses.

“Hey, handsome,” you reply, turning to face him. Your eyes light up when you see the flowers in his hand. “Those for me?”

“For my one and only,” he confirms, letting you take them from him. You press your nose to the blooms, inhaling deeply.

“They’re amazing,” you gush, moving around the kitchen to find a vase to fill with water. You hand them back to Joel and he removes the wrapping paper, using the kitchen shears to cut the ends off the stems.

You set a glass vase of water on the kitchen table and Joel tips the flowers into them, watching with a small smile as you arrange them to look their best.

“I love them,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“I love you,” he says.

________

Joel kisses you breathless, right there in the kitchen. His tongue slides against yours, his hands smoothing down your waist until they grip your hips and tug you closer.

“Gross,” Sarah comments from the doorway. Joel pulls back abruptly. He squeezes your hips three times before letting go, crossing to the doorway to pull Sarah into a hug.

“Set the table,” he tells her, ruffling a hand through her curly hair. She groans, batting at his hand and ducking away from him to grab the silverware.

The three of you enjoy dinner, followed by Joel starting up a movie that Sarah’s been begging to watch.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Joel tells her.

“I won’t!” Sarah insists.

She’s out cold twenty minutes later. Joel laughs silently.

“I’ll get her in bed,” he says, shifting out from beneath her and picking her up from the couch. “Meet you in the bedroom?”

You nod, turning the TV off and putting away the blanket the three of you had been sharing. You head upstairs to your shared bedroom, changing into one of Joel’s well loved t-shirts before climbing into bed, turning the bedside lamp on.

“Never gets old,” Joel says when he comes in a moment later. He reaches behind his head, tugging his shirt up and off.

“What’s that?” You ask.

“You, in my bed. In my clothes,” he says, shoving his jeans down his thighs and kicking them away. You raise an eyebrow at him. “I’ll put them in the hamper later, I swear, let me just hold you.”

He crawls into bed, flopping beside you with a groan and shimmying around until he’s pulled you into his body, tugging your leg over his hip and pressing his head to your chest with a sigh. You run your fingers through his soft curly hair.

“Love you,” he says into your chest.

“You sayin’ that to me or my boobs?” You ask, teasing lilt to your voice.

“Both, definitely both,” he confirms, lifting his head. He brings a hand to the back of your neck to drag your lips to his. The kiss is slow and syrupy, no rush and all the time in the world to enjoy each other.

Joel’s mouth opens against yours, tongue exploring at his leisure. His hand slides down your back until he grips a handful of your ass, tugging you closer until your pussy drags against his hardening cock.

You whine against his lips, and he repeats the action. “You feelin’ a little needy, baby?”

You nod, and he shifts forward, pressing your back to the mattress and hovering over you. His mouth trails across your jaw and down your neck, wet hot kisses marking you like a tattoo, his love seeping beneath your skin.

His calloused fingers drag your shirt up, bunching it up beneath your armpits to expose your breasts to the cool bedroom air. You squirm beneath him as he kisses your sternum before taking one pert nipple between his lips with little preamble.

His tongue swirls around your hard nipple before he draws back with a nip of teeth that makes you gasp. You can feel his grin against your skin as he moves to give your other breast the same treatment.

Joel slips a hand into your panties, finger sliding through your wet folds and he groans. “God, this pussy, baby. Always so fuckin’ wet for me.”

A finger dips into your entrance and you keen, pressing your head back against the pillow. He shushes you as he kisses your tummy. He withdraws his hand to your whine of displeasure.

Joel tugs your underwear over your hips, dragging them down your legs before he tosses them to the side. His hands press your legs apart so that he can position himself on his belly between them, face close to where you crave him most. He kisses your inner thighs, teasing you mercilessly.

“Joel,” you whine. Your fingers tangle in his hair.

He chuckles. “You want my mouth, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you groan.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, put your mouth on me, baby.”

He licks through your folds, swirling his tongue deftly over your sensitive clit. The sudden stimulation makes your hips buck against his face and he throws an arm over you to keep you still.

Joel is a man on a mission, pulling out all the moves he knows drive you wild. Circling your clit before sucking it between his lips, dipping down to your entrance to drive his tongue against you to drink up your essence. His teeth graze the bundle of nerves and you bite back a shout, hips fighting against his hold.

His free hand presses a finger to your hole, slipping inside you wet heat. He groans against you, the vibration of it making you whine. One finger becomes two that he curls against your front wall, grazing a spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

He looks up at you from between your legs, brown eyes shaded with lust as he works you until you shatter, your release dripping down his wrist as he slows his hand and draws out the swipes of his tongue in broad strokes.

You sink into the mattress, a boneless heap in the aftermath. Joel sits up with a smug smile, crawling over your body until his face hovers above yours.

“You wanna taste?” He murmurs, voice a low rumble you feel through all your nerve endings. You nod and he presses his fingertips to your lips, urging them to part. You lick the taste of yourself from his skin, tongue sliding over the digits reverently.

He presses against your tongue slightly before withdrawing, replacing his fingers with his lips and tongue in a deep and dirty kiss. You reach a hand into his boxers, gripping his length and pumping it leisurely. He hisses, hips flexing into your hold.

“Want your cock, baby,” you whisper, your thumb circling the head and smearing the drop of precum gathered at the slit around the crown. “Please?”

Joel shoves his boxers down in a hurry and you giggle at the display of desperation. He takes himself in hand, sliding himself through your wetness, bumping your still sensitive clit. He notches himself to your entrance, pressing forward in a slow slide until he’s pressed so deep and close you don’t know where you start and he ends.

His body is a welcome weight against yours as he flexes his hips, drawing back before snapping them forward in a harsh thrust. You gasp.

“That’s right, baby,” he says, teeth gritted. “This pretty cunt is all mine, huh?”

“Yours,” you agree, nails scraping against his shoulders. “Wan’ you to fill me up, Joel.”

His hips stutter. “Yeah? You want me drippin’ out of this pretty little pussy?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant back. He bites at your neck before sitting up on his heels, your legs held up against one shoulder as he uses a rough grip on your thighs to slam into you over and over and over.

You have to slap a palm over your mouth to keep the noises you’re making at manageable volume. His grin is near feral.

“Can’t help yourself, huh, darlin’? Wanna scream so bad over how my cock’s making you feel,” he growls. Your eyes flutter shut as you let him command your body how he desires.

You can feel your second orgasm creeping up on you as your belly starts to tighten, like all your nerves are gearing up to shatter in unison.

“Come on, baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock,” he tells you, his thrusts sloppy as he chases his own release. “Make that pussy milk me.”

It’s his dirty words that send you over the edge, forcing you to bite your lip to the point of pain. He lets your legs fall to his hips as he presses deeply into you, his cock pulsing his warm release as he slams his lips to yours, swallowing your noises and mixing them with his own.

His hips slow until he’s just pressed inside of you, his kisses turning into soft pecks to your lips. He lifts his head to look at you, smoothing your hair back from your sweaty forehead with a tender hand.

You smile, turning your head to press a kiss to his open palm.

“I love you, Joel.”

________

As Joel looks down at you, his heart squeezes in his chest. There was a time, around when Sarah’s mom left them both without warning, that he thought love was a hoax. That no one actually found it for themselves.

But looking into your eyes, he finds he was wrong. All that pain was just meant to lead him to you. He wants a million of these moments with you.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro

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Prompt 3 - Card

@jegulus-microfic March 3 Word count 976

Previous part First part

Regulus woke with a start. He’d cuddled into James’s side, and Sirius had his head on his shoulder. He pulled his pocket watch from his pocket and gasped. He needed to go. He was almost certain that his house was watched, and if he kept going awol, they’d soon get suspicious. 

He gently moved his brother’s head off of him and let it loll back onto the sofa. He reluctantly moved away from James. 

James’s eyes fluttered open. 

“I need to go,” He whispered to him. James looked at him with sad eyes but nodded. James leaned forward and pulled Regulus back to him, kissing him sweetly on the lips. 

“I did not need to wake up and see that.” Sirius groaned from beside them. Regulus ducked back down and kissed James more passionately. James resisted at first but soon got swept up in the moment. 

Sirius smartly did not comment a second time. “Tomorrow night, meet at Evan’s?” 

“We’ll try and come up with some ideas by then,” James told him. 

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Sirius mumbled from the cushion he was hiding behind. 

Regulus apparated home. He made sure to make his movements sloppy, pretending he’d been out drinking. He even tripped up one of the steps for good measure. 

“Master Regulus, you’re home.” Kreacher met him at the door, flinging his bony arms around Regulus’s legs. He made Regulus jump. So much had happened since the previous night. 

“Yes, Kreacher, I’m home.” He reassured the now sobbing elf. “Could you make me some tea before bed, please?” The elf immediately released Regulus and rushed into the kitchen to make the tea. Regulus was struggling with how much emotion Kreacher was showing over him. 

Kreacher reappeared with a sliver tray piled high with Regulus’s favourite tea and an array of sandwiches and cakes. “Kreacher, you didn’t need to go to so much trouble.” Regulus smiled down fondly at the little elf. 

“Master Regulus returned to Kreacher. Kreacher is overjoyed. Kreacher wishes to spoil Master Regulus.” 

“Okay, Kreacher. I’m going to go up to bed now.” He tried to take the tray from Kreacher, but the elf danced out of his way and headed up the stairs. Regulus didn’t bother fighting and just followed after him. 

The tea warmed him and made him feel more relaxed. He ate all the food Kreacher had provided. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was. Once he finished, he pulled the locket out again and stared at it. It would need something powerful to destroy it. He thought perhaps Manticore venom, but he wasn’t sure how to get any without raising suspicion. He’d check the family stores in the morning incase an ancestor had hidden away a vial. 

He took Sirius’s walkman out of his bedside table and put on the headphones, letting Marc Bolan’s voice lull him to sleep. 

Kreacher went all out for breakfast. Creating far more food than Regulus could ever eat by himself. He sat and made his way through a plate of sausages and eggs to appease the elf. 

After he repeatedly told Kreacher that he couldn’t eat any more food, he went to the Black family potions store. 

The cold stone room was lined with shelves set into the stone. Lines and lines of different-sized glass vials and bottles. Regulus peered at the faded labels with wand light and finally found what he was searching for. He couldn’t believe his family had this. He took the dusty vial from the shelf carefully. He held his wand up to the vial of Manticore venom only to discover it was empty. “What savage put this back on the shelf empty!” He exclaimed, cursing his ancestors. He shoved the vial back on the shelf, ignoring the irony in his action. 

He went up to the library and began searching through his books for anything that might help destroy the Horcrux.

“Master Regulus, you asked Kreacher to remind you when you wanted to leave for Evan Rosier’s house.” 

“Thank you, Kreacher.”

They were all waiting for him. He pulled out the locket and showed them. 

“That’s Slytherin’s locket!” Evan exclaimed. Barty and Pandora looked closer at it and agreed with Evan. 

“Yup, that’s old Zar’s locket.” Barty looked at it impressed. Regulus and James recounted their adventure to rapt attention. 

“You guys are insane.” Lily gaped at them. 

“We still need to figure out how to destroy them. I thought Manticore Venom, but my family stores are out.” 

“Same here,” Evan said. 

“Don’t look at me. Muggle-born remember. My family barely has spices for cooking, let alone Manticore venom.” They turned to look at Barty and James. 

“You’d never catch my father with that,” Barty told them. 

“Yeah, I doubt my parents would have any, but I can check.” James shrugged. 

“Well, that means we need to come up with a fallback plan,” Regulus said. “I think Fiendfyre would work, but it is incredibly hard to control and would draw a lot of attention.”

The room was silent for a moment before Barty started talking. 

“You know how they always said there was a beast Slytherin left beneath the castle in a secret chamber before he left?” He pulled out a card from his pocket that was covered in notes. “I’ve been thinking about it. Slytherin was a Parselmouth, right? So what’s the betting this monster is a snake? You know, something only the heir can control. So I did some digging, and I think I know what it might be.” He paused dramatically. 

“Tell us, Barty,” Regulus’s mind was running through all the magical serpents.

“I think it’s a Basilisk. And I bet its venom could destroy all these Horcruxes we are meant to be tracking down.”

The room was completely silent as Barty’s words sunk in. 

“Dirty great snake,” Sirius grinned madly. “Bring it on!”  

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