#but if you recognize it brownie points!!! you get a brownie

[pennylanefics]

Juice Box - Seth Jarvis

a/n: i'm not entirely happy with this, but it's something 😅 i also based this off something my family does because i was thinking about it with my grandpa and everything :)

summary: at a family picnic, seth helps a young cousin of yours after she is injured on the playground

word count: ~1.6k

Laughter and conversations filled the park gazebos, sounds of children screaming and adults playing games and catching up. Every year, your family has a picnic, where extended family members on your mother’s side get together at a local park, your uncles grill hot dogs and hamburgers, people bring cornhole and soccer balls or footballs to play with.

It was still quite early in the summer, so it wasn’t too chilly, but also not scalding hot to the point where it was unbearable to be outside. Thankfully today, it was also partly cloudy, so the sun gets shielded by the clouds here and there, cooling the air for a few moments.

You had invited Seth, who was beyond excited to get to meet even more of your family, most of which would be for the first time, since you don’t see them often and they’re not really around much.

“You have the pasta salad and brownies?” You ask Seth as you step out of your car. The food was in the trunk, to prevent it from rolling around the back seat. You grabbed the two folding lawn chairs from the back seat while Seth grabbed the food and cooler.

“Yeah, got everything,” he says, coming around to smile at you as he held it all. “Ready.”

You led him over to the gazebo that was rented out for just your family, the smell of barbeque already filling the air.

As you walk up and start greeting everyone, Seth stands around awkwardly, not knowing where to put the food. Your cousin comes up and takes the dessert from him, as well as telling him where to put the bowl of pasta salad, along with all the other sides, like buffalo chicken dip and a bunch of different chips.

You walk back over to Seth after getting the chairs all set up and hug him, your arms around his torso, curling your head into his shoulder.

“I would introduce you to people, but I’m gonna be honest, I’m not sure I remember all of their names,” you mention, looking around at everyone. Seth laughs and rubs your back softly.

“When you don’t see people often, it does get hard to remember names. That’s how it is with my mom’s side of the family. We don’t get together as much as my dad’s side, so I couldn’t tell you half of the people I see during family events,” he explains, his eyes scanning over the group of people, all chatting and smiling with one another, noticing a few familiar faces of those that he has met.

“I can tell faces, like I remember them, but there’s so many names and titles, you know?” Seth presses a few kisses to your temple as your aunt comes over to say hi to the two of you.

As time goes by and Seth grows a bit more comfortable with so many new faces around him, some of them even recognizing him and becoming a little starstruck, things start to ease up for the both of you. 

You get dragged over by your cousins to talk to a few people, cousins of all of your moms to be specific, and you can’t help but keep an eye on Seth, just in case.

“How long have you been together?” One of your mom’s cousins, Angela, asks you, nudging your arm and pointing in the direction of your boyfriend.

“Almost a year,” you smile, seeing his gaze trail over to you, your eyes meeting for a moment before he goes back to talking with your uncle. “He’s so wonderful, I can’t believe it’s almost been that long.”

“Oh wow. Do you have anything planned for your anniversary?” She continues, slightly prying but you knew she meant well and was genuinely interested.

“I’m not sure yet. We talked about going on like a week trip to the mountains in Colorado, but he has to make sure he doesn’t have any meetings. But he told me even if he does, he’ll skip it just to spend time with me.”

“Aw, that is so sweet! I can tell he really loves you. The way he looks at you is how my daughter’s husband looks at her. It’s very special, make sure to not let him go,” she winks playfully. Giggling softly, you nod and look back over, finding him laugh loudly, the familiar sound filling your ears even from so far away.

“I don’t plan on it,” you say, mainly to yourself. Insecurity rises in you but you try to push it down, the uncertainty of the future getting to your head.

You sigh loudly as she turns back to conversation with the others, Seth catching your eyes once more, and instantly, he can tell something is on your mind. He says something to your uncle and makes a bee-line right towards you.

“Hey, everything alright?” He wonders, his hands settling on your waist.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” you murmur, reaching up to move a strand of his hair away from his eyes. He blushes and a small grin displays on his face.

“You’re overthinking,” he whispers, pulling you to the side, where there wasn’t anyone around you.

“A little, but it’s nothing.” He nods, but still doesn’t let up.

“Can we talk about it when we get home?” He wonders. Seth knows you so well, he knows that whatever is on your mind, you need to speak about it otherwise it’ll gnaw at the inside of your brain and send you into a spiral.

You nod at his question and give him a sweet kiss. Just then, your uncle announces that the hot dogs and burgers are done, and everyone is more than welcome to start eating.

Seth helps you get your plate, holding it for you as you place a bun on it, finding the perfect, charred hot dog out of the bunch. You move on to getting some sides and then find your seat, Seth following not too far behind.

The rest of the afternoon goes smooth, everyone continues to catch up and share stories, talking about their lives since the last time everyone saw each other. Your younger cousins even dragged Seth to the playground for a little bit, claiming they wanted him to play with them on the equipment that was far too small for someone his age.

You are caught up in talking to your cousin and uncle when a sudden crying fills the air. Everyone looks around and their eyes land on Seth, who comes walking up the grassy incline, with your five-year-old cousin wailing beside him. Seth holds his hand up for people to stay put, not wanting to overwhelm the young girl.

“Here, why don’t you sit in my chair, alright? You want something to drink? Do you have water? You want a juice box?” He asks her, kneeling down so that he’s at the same level as her. She wipes her tears and nods at his question.

Seth looks up at you, slightly standing over him to make sure everything was okay. You nod, understanding his silent request, and find a cooler with some Capri Suns, grabbing a random flavor and handing it to Seth.

He carefully opens the straw and punctures it into the opening, handing it to her.

“Now, let’s assess this scrape, yeah?” He holds her shoe in his hand to get a look at the scrape that was fresh on her knee. He looks back up at you and stands up. 

“You have a first aid kit in your car, right?” He asks.

“Yeah. You want me to go get it?”

“Please. It’s just a simple scrape, but it scared her.” You nod and rush off to your parked car to retrieve the small red box. The second you return, Seth opens it up and grabs an alcohol wipe and a band aid.

“Okay, this might hurt, why don’t you hold (Y/N)’s hand, okay?” Seth looks at the child with kind eyes, getting ready to wipe the scrape, knowing it’ll most likely burn, but he needed to clean it before. She nods and looks up at you. You hold your hand out for her to take and she does.

Seth gently presses the wipe against the scrape, your cousin whining and crying even more at the feeling.

“I know, Ophelia, but I have to clean it, alright? And…just like that, done!” He throws his hands up in the air. “The worst part is over, yeah? You did it! High five!” He raises one hand closer to her, and finally, she giggles at his playful tone, giving his hand a small smack.

“Now I just have to put the band aid on. And this is super easy!” He opens it up, handing you the trash, and when he’s done, he pulls a surprised expression on his face. “Just like that! You are all set and ready to go back and play!”

She giggles again and gives him a hug before running over to her mom, now in a much more calm mood than from when Seth brought her up, showing her mom the band aid and telling her what happened.

Seth throws the trash away in a nearby trash can and smiles sheepishly at you upon finding you staring him down.

“What?” He wonders, kissing your cheek.

“Nothing. I just think you’re so sweet,” you say, giving him a kiss on the cheek this time, his soft skin turning a pale pink.

“She’s a sweet kid. I tried to catch her before she tripped, but she was too far away. Her shoe got caught on a rock and she just went down.”

“She looks happy now,” you say, looking over at her jumping up and down. “You didn’t have to do that, you know?” Seth gives you a confused look.

“I didn’t have to, but I knew how to handle it,” he shrugs. “I don’t mind doing things like that. Gives her mom a break for a bit too.”

“I love you,” you whisper, curling into his side. He chuckles and throws his arms around you.

“And I love you.”

[morbidpaintz]

shoulda locked the door

[unlocklist]

its 2 am gn

[selfinserttothestars]

tw vent art

sorry it’s messy I’m tired and I don’t feel like cleaning it up

[wonwoosthetic]

Hi, I was wondering if I could get a Joel x reader pre - outbreak maybe they get in a fight and are giving each other the silent treatment .. I know it’s stupid sorry

Cold Brownies

pairing - pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x female!reader

word count - 6.9k (I got a bit carried away😅)

warnings - a bit of jealousy, fighting, mention of an age gap if you squint, and just a quick mention of smut but nothing explicit, but still very domestic and cute and fluffy ˙ᵕ˙

a/n: aaaaaah, my very first piece about Joel Miller hihi 🤗🫣 and your request was anything BUT stupid!!!! thank you so much for the request! 🤍🤍 I hope you enjoy it ˙ᵕ˙ I loved writing this soooo much, I'm such a sucker for domestic pre-outbreak!Joel😭

series masterlist

2003

“All I’m asking is that you could maybe tone it down a bit, alright?"

You were making your way to the front of the house, Sarah ahead of the two of you with the keys in her hands, ready to open the door, while you were hot on Joel's tracks.

“What- you want me to be rude to them?” He stopped to turn around and glare at you with confusion written across his face. In his right hand, he carried his daughter's bag from the football match you had just come home from, along with the football in his left hold.

“Jesus Christ, Joel!" You threw your hands up in the air in desperation, hoping to bring some sense into his head after noticing this discussion was not going where you had wanted it to go. "No, not rude! I just don’t need to see you all flirty and cute around the single mothers there!”

“They’re not single, Y/N!”

“That makes it even worse!”

With a huff, he turned back around to continue his way into the house. He threw the bag into the corner of the hallway before walking straight ahead past the living room to enter the kitchen. You followed him, closing the front door behind you with a sigh, shaking your head along with it. 

It had been evident to you that he wouldn't react to your complaint amazingly, but it was still something you had wanted to bring up after noticing the hungry looks of the women standing by the field. It hadn't been the first time today, and you knew it wouldn't be the last time. And you were tired of just being the side-chick of Joel Miller that would come along on Sundays to cheer on your daughter's football team during their match. Because that's what you felt like. His side-chick. Not his wife. At least not in the eyes of the other mothers.

The two of you were usually known for having little to no fights. You had always been good at communicating, but this time it just seemed to hit you a little deeper and a lot harder.

Once you had caught up with him, your eyes found Tommy sitting at the dining table, munching on what was left of your lunch. Sarah had stopped to stand by one of the chairs right next to him to start a conversation, but they were quickly interrupted by Joel and you.

While you stood in the dining room, your arms crossed, staring at his moving form, he poured himself a cup of probably already cold coffee. “Do you seriously have such little faith in me whenever you see me talking to another woman?” He squinted at you.

Your hands found their way to your hair, brushing it out of your face hastily as you tried to clear your head. “No, God… please, it’s not you that I don’t trust-“

“But those women?! Why?! They just want to talk!” At this point, Tommy and Sarah shared a quick glance, immediately recognizing they shouldn't be in the room with you anymore. They quickly stood up and rushed out, leaving you two in the heated argument that filled the room with anger and tension, as well as frustration and pleads.

You could feel your throat starting to close up, but you swallowed it down, hoping it would buy you some time before you would have to let loose of your emotions. “Because I used to be one of those women that ‘just wants to talk to you’!" You mocked his comment, "And look at where I am now!”

“You gotta be kidding me. You can’t have that little trust in others. OR in me.” Why he wasn't hearing you was still a mystery to you. He used to be so good at communicating.

“It's not that!" You argued, "I just know exactly what these women think of when they come up to you a-and don’t even acknowledge me standing next to you." The emotions started showing earlier than you would've liked to. You had to sniffle, catching Joel's attention as his head shot towards you. He sighed.

“They realise you’re right there, they talk to you just as much.” The man had lowered his voice, hoping a softer tone would make the situation easier. But it wasn't the volume of the discussion that was the problem.

You scuffed, “Yeah, to ask me how you’re doing and if you’ve gotten even more handsome over the last week.”

In any other situation, Joel would've smirked at your statement. Hell, you probably would've delivered it with a proud smirk, knowing exactly that yes, he would in fact get more good-looking with each week passing. You had been trying to convince him of his looks ever since you could remember, for a good four years that you had been together, but there was still a wall in front of him that wouldn't accept any compliment that easily. And that made you all that madder because it seemed like receiving complimenting words from the mothers back at the football field affected him more than yours ever did.

Joel clearly had enough of the scene you were playing out,

"This is getting ridiculous." He raised his hands in defence. “It’s alright, we can talk about this later," walking past you once again to walk into the living room, not finding his daughter nor his brother there, making him wonder where they had gone to.

“No, we can’t.” You fought back, following him with your eyes, only taking a few steps into the other room.

After throwing himself onto the cushioned sofa, he put the mug on the coffee table in front of him. With his hands now free, he was able to lean forward, his elbows resting on his knees he rubbed his eyes with his palms. “Y/N, I really can’t do this right now-“

“You don’t wanna talk about it?" You scoffed, "Fine. Then- Then let’s just not. You’re right. Let’s just pretend this never happened, and I’m overreacting because everything’s fucking fine.” Not wasting another second, you moved your body to the stairs leading to the upper floor.

“Darlin'-“

But you stopped him by shouting down.

“Everything’s fine!”

-

Everything was in fact not fine. And every single person in the Miller household could tell. 

The night before, you were able to avoid your partner most of the time. When Sarah had asked if you'd come to the dining table for dinner, you used work as an excuse to stay in the office corner your husband had built in the garage, sitting at the desk, deep in some documents that you could not concentrate on. Not even for a second.

Before Joel had made his way up to bed, you had already taken a shower and cuddled yourself up into the bed, hiding most of your body under the covers. You weren't asleep when he joined you. But you pretended to be. And it worked. For the entire night, the two of you didn't touch each other, not even with your feet by accident - maybe in your sleep, but how would you have been able to tell.

But still in the morning, while both of you were rushing through the kitchen, getting breakfast, coffee and orange juice ready, while also tugging on your clothing and fixing your hair, moving around the room frantically, you didn't share a word with each other. Not a single one. 

Sarah and Tommy eyed you suspiciously from their spots at the dining table. The uncle was slurping on his coffee while the girl had a piece of bacon in her mouth.

"Damn..." the man whispered, receiving a nod from his niece right next to him. "How long has this been going on for?" The silence was something highly unusual for this household. Joel and you were known to be a quite melodic couple. Filling early mornings with chatter and laughter while you tried to brighten up the older man's face, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of that time of the day. But there you were. Silently moving around each other.

Sarah picked up some eggs with her fork, "Since yesterday. I don't think they've talked through their argument yet," before stuffing her mouth with it.

"You don't say," the man sent her a side-eye, going back to the hot liquid in his mug. "What do you call?" He leaned back.

The girl shrugged, "He did something wrong."

"Well, obviously," Tommy rolled his eyes, "but what?"

"I think it was something about him not realising he's being flirted with and just going along with it because he wants to be nice."

He scoffed, "Idiot..."

"Blind idiot," his niece corrected him, only to get told off by her father.

"Hey," he pointed at her, "Watch your mouth." He didn't have the energy to comment on the other words he had heard coming from them.

Before she was able to say something smart back at him, he continued, "Hurry up eating, I'll be outside in the car." And left the room through the backdoor leading to the garage without another word.

The moment he closed the door, you let out a deep sigh you had held in the entire time the two of you shared a kitchen.

"He'll come back to his senses," the voice of your step-daughter made you walk over to the table, taking a seat in front of your two family members.

The cup of tea in your hands warmed your palm. "I don't know..." you mumbled before bringing the mug up to your lips.

"He's just acting stubborn as fuck," Tommy shook his head.

Sarah gasped, "Don't curse, there are children here." Receiving a subtle chuckle from you.

For a second, you shared a quick moment of silence before you put the mug down, "But am I over-reacting?" You asked them, "Like... am I looking too much into this?" But the shake of their head assured you, making you lean back into the chair with a huff.

"You think I enjoy watching these women gawking over him? It's disgusting. You should be the only one allowed to do that," Sarah explained, tickling a smile out of you.

"Shouldn't you be disgusted by me doing that?"

But she just shrugged, "It's kinda cute," before looking you dead in the eyes, "But don't tell him that."

You chuckled, "I won't. It's not like we're talking to each other these days anyways."

"Look," Tommy had had enough, "Like Sarah said, once Joel gets that stick out of his ass-"

"I never said that."

"Whatever," he jokingly brushed her off, "Once that happens. He'll start apologising. Joel's always been a little oblivious about that stuff. You don’t remember how it was with you?"

"But how?" You wondered, "They're literally undressing him with their eyes!"

"EW, gross!" The young girl exclaimed, making you send her an apologetic smile,

"Sorry..."

"We were taught to be nice and respectful to all kinds of women, Y/N. I don't know what else to tell you," Tommy got up at the sound of his brother's car honking, tapping Sarah on the arm to copy his actions. You watched her disappear back upstairs to grab her backpack while you stood back up to start cleaning the mess that had been left behind from making breakfast.

When you were about to walk past Tommy, his soft grasp on her lower arm stopped you. You looked up to meet his eyes.

"Don't you dare even think that Joel would ever leave you for one of those chicks," he told you quietly, but sternly, "He knows you're way out of his league." His first statement made you smile fondly while the second one made you chuckle and slap his chest.

"Tommy!"

"I'm being serious, Y/N," his hand brushed over the back of your head. He took a few steps back, a smirk still plastered on his lips, "But hey, you know, I still have quite a good amount of friends that would DIE to get to know you."

"Stop it!" You looked around for a cloth to throw at him, doing so once you found a wet one right by the sink. He jumped back, letting it hit the floor, continuing his laughing as he walked towards the back door. "Just saying," he raised his hands, "My brother's an old fuck, you might want to relocate."

You could only shake your head in disbelief, "You're unbelievable, you know that?" Earning yourself a mischievous grin from the younger Miller brother.

You had known Tommy for longer than you had known Joel. You met him at a night out, hitting on one of your friends after you realised that that dude used to be the same guy that had given your parents multiple headaches with that friend group of his in their old restaurant. You remembered them tumbling in some late evenings when you helped out after school, or even just wanted to do your homework in a corner. They pretended to not be drunk, when they definitely were, as best as they could. As much as it annoyed you and your family back then, they did bring a lot of other young people in and within only a few months, you had more visitors than ever. The memory made both of you laugh out loud in the bar and your friendship developed from then on. He even tried setting you up with multiple of his so-called other friends 'that would DIE to get to know you'. But he had failed. HARD. Every single time. His friends were… just not it... 

That‘s because you had met his brother, and well... everything fell into place afterwards, leading to you now standing in the kitchen.

"What did you do now?" Sarah wondered, finding the piece of fabric on the floor, glancing at her uncle with her arms crossed.

You shook your head, "Nothing, don't worry about it. He's just trying to be funny."

She rolled her eyes overdramatically, "Ugh... again?" Getting a soft tap on the head from the man in question.

You sent them off with a smile and a goodbye wave, wishing both a good day as they left you alone in the house. All by yourself, along with your thoughts and worries and a good amount of chores to get done.

-

After Sarah had come back from school, you offered her a serving of the lunch you had prepared on your day off, giving yourself one as well. You sat together by the dining table, chatting about your day while listening to her ranting about her school and her teachers - her English teacher in particular. There was just something she didn't like about that guy.

Before you knew it, the evening had arrived as you got done hoovering the living room, letting yourself fall back into the couch with a heavy breath tumbling from your lips.

The argument from the day before had been haunting you the entire day, draining you of every last bit of energy you had left. You went over everything you had said and all the things you'd want to tell Joel once you were back on speaking terms. And yeah... about that too. How long could the two of you go without talking to each other? You never went longer than a day, so you already broke that record. In all honesty, you didn't want to drag it out for much longer. You hated it. As much as you were still annoyed at your husband and the oblivion he was in, the love and care you felt for him were much stronger than that.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the young girl coming down the stairs slowly. You only looked up at the sound of the stairs creaking underneath her feet.

"Mom?" She softly called out for you, staying behind the wall while searching for your eyes in the softly dimmed room. It had already gotten dark outside and the only light in the room came from the small lamp on the side table to your right.

"Hm?"

Sarah looked down at her feet, her fingers drawing circles on the wallpaper, "I-ehm... so..." you patiently waited for her to continue, "You know how we have bake sales every now and then at school?"

You scrunched your eyebrows at the random question, "Of course... why?"

Then a sheepish smile made its way to her face, "Weeelll..."

"Well?"

"I may or may not have a bake sale tomorrow morning and need something for it," she quickly spilt out, only daring to look up at the end of her statement.

Your hands immediately came up to hide your face, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose, "Sarah... please tell me you're kidding."

"No...," she hugged herself shyly, "Sorry..." Coming a few steps closer, she stopped next to you, joining you on the sofa, the sly grin still on her face.

You sighed, looking at her, "You know, you're gonna be the death of me, right?" But she just showed you her teeth with a wide smile.

"Well..." you collected your thoughts, "Your dad has the car... and if I go to the store now, it'll be closed when I arrive. So... let's see if Tommy can go get some stuff because we have absolutely nothing in this house." You leaned over to reach for your phone that was laying on top of the coffee table.

"No!" The girl beat you and got a hold of your phone first, holding it tightly to her chest.

You looked at her in confusion, "What?"

"Eh... I- Why uncle Tommy? Dad should be on his way back from work now. It'll be way more practical if he buys it."

With a sigh and a nod, you gave in, "Well then, go on. Call him." But she shook her head. Her hand reached out to hand you back the device.

"Why not?" You wondered, slightly worried about the way she was acting.

"...I don't want him to be mad at me." You wanted to say something, but she continued, "If you call him, he won't get mad."

"Sarah..." another sigh of yours rang through your ears as you blinked at her. But she defeated you. With those goddamn puppy eyes, she inherited from her father, that neither you nor Joel could say no to - you more than him usually, but you were in a vulnerable place, so giving in came easily.

"Pleeaase, mom." The small word still brought a smile to your face - she knew exactly how to get you. You may not have been there her entire life, but for a good important chunk of it, and she appreciated that very much. It was on your wedding day when she asked you if she could call you 'mom' from now on. And it made you cry right at that exact moment.

You snatched the phone out of her hands and shook your head with a soft smile on your lips. She knew just how cute she was. After all, she was a very smart little girl.

You got up from the sofa and made your way over to the kitchen, already clicking on the number you had gotten so familiar with. Only two rings later, the deep voice of your partner erupted,

"Hey, everything okay?" You almost smiled at the concern in his voice. He knew you rarely ever called but prefered to send quick texts.

You scratched the back of your neck, "Hi, yeah... ehm... where are you?"

"Just got into the truck, why?"

"So... Sarah just remembered that she has a bake sale tomorrow," you explained, already hearing the deep sigh, along with a cruse word, coming from him, "But I can't make it to the store in-"

"What do you wanna bake, darlin'? What do you need?" You didn't ignore the way your body reacted to the nickname. You couldn't just let it pass like that. Even after all the years of being with him, his sweet tongue still made you feel like a little college girl. The heat rose up to your cheeks, painting them beautifully red as you ushered around the kitchen.

"Eh... wait a second," you opened the refrigerator, "We have eggs, we... don't have butter, so butter. We should have some flour and sugar. But we'd definitely need chocolate or-"

"What about a brownie mix?"

You perked up, "You really want to send your daughter to a baking sale with brownies from a pre-made mix?"

"Why not," he probably shrugged, "I can guarantee you, sweetheart, no one cares," the engine of the car roared in the background.

Unknowingly, your eyes drifted over the counter to the corner where a picture of the three of you was placed. Taken by Tommy, it showed you and Joel hugging the sweet girl in the middle while her face was covered in cake frosting. It was your, back then, boyfriend's idea to make her laugh, and boy, did he accomplish that. The echoes of her high-pitched giggles still roamed your brain as you were brought back to the day of her birthday party when she had turned 11 years old. Already then, the older Miller brother knew he was going to ask you to marry him one day. Never ever had either one of you been that happy when with another person.

That's when the memory of his proposal speech came back to you. Joel was a big romantic. Whether he wanted to admit it or not. But his plans of the original proposal were thrown out the window when a massive storm surprised the entire city, forcing you to stay inside the comfort of your own home.

Since Sarah was over at Tommy's place after the older man had begged him to do so, you had the house to yourself and you better bet, you made the best out of it. After multiple rounds in each other's embrace, exchanging passion and lust for each other, you found yourself in your bed, on his lap, still not tired of kissing the hell out of him. You were surprised when he stopped you for a second with,

"I have something to ask you," whispering it against your mouth before he leaned back to stretch his arm to get whatever he was looking for out of the drawer of his nightstand. You eyed him suspiciously, your fingers still intertwined behind his neck. You could feel your heart genuinely stop for a second or two when your gaze got stuck on the small red velvet box.

"Joel..." The topic of marriage had come up before, of course. But only because he wanted to make sure that the two of you were on the same page, and after doing that, he just had to find the right time to find a ring and actually propose.

He lifted a hand to stop you, "Just wait. Just for a minute," interlocking your eyes with his as he breathed out, "I had this whole thing planned," he shook his head, "I wanted it to be much more romantic than this. But God... I-I can't wait anymore."

Once his actual speech started, you couldn't help the tears in your eyes to well up. You had heard him say 'I love you' so many times before, but that love confession of his was something you had never ever received before. You felt safe with him. Loved, like no one else. How could you have said no? You knew he was the one for you. The one whose arms you wanted to fall asleep in for the rest of your life, only to wake up in a completely different position due to his restless sleeping habit. You wanted to forever hear Sarah remind him of his terrible eating habits, joining forces with her by making him drink more orange juice. You didn't even think you could live without Tommy barging into the house at the most inconvenient times, disturbing any romantic moment you'd get with your partner. That was the future you so desperately prayed for. And now you were finally going to get it.

You snapped back into the present.

"Have we really become those parents?" A soft chuckle dared to escape your lips, but Joel stole it.

"It had to happen someday."

-

Forty minutes later, the front door opened, making you look up to the left, only to direct your eyes back on the TV as soon his met yours.

"Hey," he talked quietly, finding Sarah asleep in your lap as he passed you.

"Hi," you greeted him back, the tension suddenly thick in the room. You followed him into the kitchen, careful about putting your daughter's head down gently.

You stopped by the fridge, leaning on it, your gaze travelling along with his moving figure while he put away the groceries he had just bought. Even though you were still not in the mood of talking to him, the words from yesterday still lingering with you, you decided to swallow at least a little bit of your pride.

"Thank you," you cleared your throat softly, "for... getting the stuff." He turned his entire body to look at you, eyes slightly wider than usual, sending you a somewhat subtle surprised facial expression.

"‘Course," he nodded.

"Well then... I'll..." Jesus, when did talking become so hard, "I'll let Sarah know we can start."

Just as you were about to walk back into the living room, the voice of your husband took you back, "No, let her sleep."

You moved towards him, "But she needs them for tomorrow, we-"

"I'll do it. I'll make the brownies," he sighed, finishing putting everything away, and leaving the few ingredients he'd need on the counter.

"Joel, no... that's her responsibility," you ignored his body coming towards you as you tried not to raise your voice, keeping it low since the girl was still asleep. 

He placed his hands on your shoulders, only to turn you with a gentle touch, making you face the living room, attention immediately on the little girl. A few seconds of silence passed.

"Look at her," the man whispered into your ear, too close for the current tension that was still between you, "You really want to wake her up?"

You shrugged out of his grasp, "Don't make me the bad guy now," brushing past him into the kitchen.

Joel huffed out a deep breath, slightly shaking his head, "I'll get her upstairs." He didn't wait for a response from you, knowing he wouldn't get one anyway and walked over to pick his daughter up into his arms, carrying her upstairs into her bedroom.

In the meantime, you decided to get to work, reading the instructions on the brownie-mix packaging. You preheated the oven and made sure the eggs weren't too cold before looking for the fitting bowl, which wasn't where it was supposed to be. A sigh fell from your lips. Joel had a habit of putting stuff into new places and not where you had insisted they should be.

"In the cupboard next to the dishwasher," his deep voice suddenly spoke up from behind you, "I forgot where you usually put it."

With a quiet, almost silent 'thanks' you went to grab it before putting it next to the rest of the stuff. Joel was next to you within the blink of an eye, taking the bowl from your grasp.

"I can-"

"Let me," he softly argued back, bringing the eggs closer to him before starting by opening up the brownie mix and pouring the powder into the bowl.

"Joel-" you wanted to talk back, but his hand on top of yours on the counter stopped you,

"I wanna help," he gazed down at you, while you had to look up to meet his eye. It only lasted for a second, before you moved again, on the look for the next thing you'd need: a brownie baking dish. Thankfully, it was where you remembered you had put it.

The two of you worked separately from each other. You, just as much as Joel, were still very aware of the weight on both of your shoulders. The argument was still undiscussed and it was weighing you down. Both of you. The only interaction you shared was putting the baking tin in front of him to pour the batter in.

After you shoved it into the oven, with a quiet "careful" from your partner as he opened the oven door for you, there was no longer any sound that accompanied the silence between you two. Now it was just true stillness. No clinker, no whisk hitting the bowl, or anything else.

Neither one of you wanted to be in this position as you stood opposite of each other, each leaning back on the counter. You wanted to scream to break the tension. Thankfully, Joel took the lead.

"Darlin'," still that soft tone lacing his voice, "I'm-"

"No, Joel-"

"Please," he looked up at you, hoping to meet your eyes, only for you to find the same ones that had begged for you to call him your husband. The same puppy-eyed look. "May I?" He was so gentle, just how you knew him. You nodded, followed by crossing your arms in front of your stomach.

"I'm sorry." He spoke honestly, standing up straighter, "I'm sorry for what I said and... I'm sorry for being a blind idiot."

Your eyes fell down to your feet, running your toes along the wood as a smile crept its way onto your face at the mention of Sarah's choice of words.

"You're not an idiot," the sudden sound of your voice reaching his ear made him take a deep breath. You looked back up at him. "Maybe blind, but not an idiot."

But he shook his head, "No, I am." He started playing with his hands, "But can you blame me?" The scrunch of your eyebrows in confusion made him continue, "For four years, my eyes have only been on you. All I care about is you. And Sarah, of course," he added quickly, making you grin. He smiled at the sight, daring to take a step closer to you, noticing you warming up at his words, "I could not give less of a fuck about those other women. You're the only one that has been occupying my mind. I promise you that." They were small steps, but soon enough, he stopped right in front of you, keeping one foot between you two, and meeting your glassy eyes with his soft ones. "I haven't had to flirt with anyone in forever. How am I supposed to notice it then, when someone else is doing it to me? Especially, when it's not my wife. I don't care. I might continue being nice because that's just the human thing to do, but God... I..." he took a deep breath, taking that last step to be all that much closer to you. He trapped you in between his arms, resting his palms against the counter on either side of you. His left hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumbs gently moving against your skin. "I only have eyes for the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I, the lucky bastard that I am, got to marry her." He caught the tear falling from your eye, leaning forward to kiss the wet stain before it could roll down your cheek. But his action just brought more tears into your eyes as your brain ran through the words you had just heard. You couldn't hold back a sniffle.

"Don't make me cry," you tried to free yourself from his grasp, bringing your hands to your face, trying to hide your weeping face from your husband, but he was having none of that, immediately getting a hold of your hands and pulling them down.

"I'm sorry, Gorgeous," Joel replaced your hands with his, wiping away every falling tear while gazing lovingly at you, catching your eyes never leaving his face.

You sniffled again, "I'm sorry, Joel." Both of his hands held onto your face. "I... I trust you with my life, I really do," you tried to speak through your tears, making the corners of his lips curl up, "B-But those women... at the match-"

"It's okay," he leaned forward once again, peppering your cheeks with gentle kisses over and over again, while a small smile appeared on your face at the feeling of his close touch again. "I get it," he kept on holding onto your face, making sure you kept your eyes on him, "I don't trust other men either. I know you're way too good for me. I'm a blind idiot that doesn't deserve you."

You started giggling as you hit his chest, "Stop, no," sniffling one last time when the tears had stopped falling from your eyes.

"No, I am. I realise that now," he assured you, shaking his head, "Jesus... I had to listen to Sarah calling me that like... a dozen times. And that was just on the way to school. Plus I got a big fat scolding from Tommy. He threatened to hook you up with his friends." Joel followed you with laughter after you erupted in giggles from his story, your forehead falling to his chest while your arms came up around his lower torso as his wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you to him as tightly as he possibly could, breathing in the beautiful scent of your hair.

You decided to enjoy a few moments of comfortable silence, staying engulfed in each other's arms before you leaned back a bit to lift your head, making him look down at you. The same smile on his face as it was present on yours.

"No one could ever replace you," you assured him. In the next moment, not giving your husband any time to react, you stood up on your tippy toes and puckered your lips, indicating for him to lean down, which he did without even thinking for a second. It was a natural reaction.

You only gifted him a quick peck before pulling back again.

"I love you, Joel." Followed by another quick kiss.

"I love you so much more, darlin'," he spoke against your lips, his finger tracing down the side of your face.

You squinted your eyes at him, "Mmmm... I don't think that's possible." Your comment made his eyebrows shoot up, "Oh?" He teased you, "You want me to show you that it is in fact possible?"

The not-so-subtle blush was evident on your cheeks as you pressed your lips together, "You know I'd never say no to getting dicked down."

Joel wanted to grin, SO BADLY. But he kept up his act, just staring down at you in confusion. "Getting dicked down? The hell you talkin' about, woman?" Unknowingly, the two of you started gently swaying side to side as he looked around the room, "I was thinkin' 'bout making you a nice dinner, a bit of cuddlin' maybe-"

You pinched his side, getting his attention back to you. He glanced at you with a wicked smile decorating his face. He leaned down closer to you, stopping just as your lips were about to touch, "But I can work with your idea as well.“

-

You were first down in the kitchen the following morning. Dressed and styled for work, with a pleased look never leaving your face. You felt good again. The invisible weight had clearly been lifted off you as you swiftly moved through the kitchen. The smell of pancakes filled the room when the cute familiar voice of your daughter made you turn around.

"Mornin'."

You smiled as she walked up to you, hugging your side, hiding her still sleepy face in your shoulder, "Good morning, sweetie," you patted her unruly, yet beautiful curly hair. 

She went to grab her beloved orange juice from the fridge before settling down at the dining table just like every other morning. Finally, a normal morning again. A comfortable small talk erupted between the two of you as you asked her about the school day she had ahead of herself.

In the middle of it, you brought a plate of pancakes to her, placing it right under her nose, along with a fork and the maple syrup she enjoyed so much. As soon as your back was turned towards her, eyes on the other pancakes sizzling in the pan, the third and final person in the house came down the stairs. You would be able to recognize those heavy footsteps from a mile away.

Joel greeted his daughter first, kissing the top of her head, "Mornin', baby girl." Before he joined you next to the stove, his arm immediately wrapping around you, to turn you towards him, "And a good mornin' to you too, gorgeous," smashing his lips onto yours. Your hand found its way to his cheek while his stopped at your ass.

"Children are present!" Making you lean back with a chuckle, slapping his hand to move from his position.

He turned around to jokingly glare at the girl, "Look away!" To which she just rolled her eyes.

Joel brought you back into his arms, giving you a few more kisses before getting interrupted another time, making him groan and you giggle.

"Oooooooh, well don't you two look adorable!" The younger Miller brother exclaimed, entering the house with a wide smile plastered on his face. He took his signature seat next to Sarah, stelling a piece of pancake from her, "Mom and dad getting along again?"

She nodded, "Looks like it."

Your husband wanted to get one more kiss from you, but a plate being shoved into his chest stopped him. He looked down before gazing into your eyes again, "Chocolate chip?"

"Blueberry." Your answer made him look at you with scrunched eyebrows. "Vitamin C," you grinned, giving his cheek one last peck before ushering him out of the kitchen.

You watched the three sitting at the table, smiling at the little family in front of you when you remembered something.

"Oh!" You moved back into the kitchen, snatching the Tupperware box from the counter, and bringing it into the dining room with you. "Here, sweetie, don't forget these."

"Ah, thanks, mom," she smiled at you, taking the box and placing it right next to her.

Tommy eyed the box, "What's that?"

"Brownies," you simply answered, taking a seat on the only other free chair, "We baked them for her last night."

"What are you celebrating?" His question was directed at his niece but you answered him.

"Nothing, her school's having a bake sale." Joel nudged your arm, his fork right in front of you, waiting for you to open your mouth, so he could feed you a piece of his pancakes. You knew better than to say no, remembering all the times you had tried to do that and he'd basically won and made you take the food in one way or another.

The younger brother glanced at you in question, "No, she doesn't?"

"Yes, she does, she forgot and told me yesterday."

But he just shook his head again, taking a quick look at his niece, "No, you don't. I know whenever those bake sales are." As soon as he saw the looks on your and Joel's faces, he quickly continued, "All the pretty teachers are outside during them, and I... you know... just happen to be there coincidentally. Buying them all that stuff from those kids."

You closed your eyes in disbelief, shaking your head, "Jesus..."

The older brother shrugged, "Can't say I'm surprised about that."

Tommy moved his attention towards Sarah again, "So what the heck were you talking about?"

All eyes were on the little girl, giggling in her seat as she leaned back in the chair, the curls on her head bouncing along with her laughs. "Yeah... so ehm... maybe that was a bit of a lie," sending you a sheepish smile.

"What?!" You exclaimed, switching between looking at her and your partner to your right.

She immediately raised her hands, "But you two are talking again!"

"What does that have to do-"

"OOOOOH," Tommy shot up from his seat, engulfing his niece in a tight hug, "You smart little girl, oh I love you," kissing the top of your head multiple times. All while Joel and you sat there, at least sharing the confusion between each other.

Your husband put his fork down, "Are we morons? What am I not getting here?"

His brother grinned at him, walking past him to slap the back of his head, "Your amazing daughter tricked the two of you into talking to each other again," he sang and stopped to stand in between the two of you, throwing his arms around you, pulling you in close, "She got all that smartness from me."

"Sarah!" You couldn't believe your ears. That little 13-year-old girl... you knew she was smart... but damn... Where did she learn how to read people that well?

She smiled, standing up to bring her plate into the kitchen, "It worked though!" 

Tommy released you to follow her, finally looking for his mug to get his morning cup of coffee.

The two of you stayed seated, still in disbelief at what you had just found out. You got tricked. Tricked you into putting your guard down and giving into the sweet mouth of your husband. She knows both of you too well.

"That's your kid," you pointed at the girl by the dishwasher while looking at Joel, who grinned at you, his hand now on your thigh.

His other hand wrapped around your finger, pushing it down and pulling you into him. "That's our kid. Our very smart kid," he smiled against your lips, making you do so as well before the soft touch of his mouth against yours sent a tingle through your body once again. You could never get tired of that, that was for sure.

There was the future you had always dreamed of.

joel taglist: @corvusmorte

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask

[sinsirellaxx]

I've been thinking about this for several days and I'd really love to know your opinion:

What do you think is the ideal type of each of the Slytherin boys?

Slytherin boys – Their ideal types

Warning: Toxic boys alert! (Not that bad though)

A/N: Ooh, this one was hard! Honestly, I had never really thought about that – or wanted to think about it … but here it goes:

PS: I didn't want to write about ideal body types, so I left that bit out – hope that is alright!

Mattheo …

… doe eyes – does not matter which color (although brownie points for brown eyes) – he’d spend hours just staring into your eyes. If you know how to use your eyes to your advantage, you’ll have him wrapped around your finger.

… pouty lips with a defined cupid’s bow. He’d always have to kiss you whenever he glimpsed at your lips – which was quite often. Be prepared to be kissed all. The. Time. Even during classes – which got you both detention for inappropriate displays of affection.

… he loves long hair, especially curly or wavy hair. Whenever he’s bored, he’ll twirl your curls around his finger.

… he needs a loving, affectionate, soft partner. He’s quite needy and possessive, so he’ll need someone who’ll constantly reassure him without judging him for being overly possessive.

… however, he’d bee head over heels if you also have some sass to you: Sweet, loving but make it spicy.

… loves sneakers and his hoodies on you. Especially if his hoodies still smell like him. The thought of his smell marking you makes him want to go feral.

… would love someone who is inexperienced ... because let’s be honest: the thought of you having been with other people would drive him mad and rob him of his sleep.

Theodore …

… loves long hair as well. He’d try to braid your hair for you – he’d lowkey be possessive over your hair and get angry whenever someone else touches it.

… thinks he wants a more sultry-seductive-siren-like partner, but I think he’d simp for a golden-retriever-type-of partner.

… would secretly wish for you to cook and bake for him – especially Italian dishes and pastries.

… he loved his late mom but she was taken too early from him, which is why he needs someone nurturing, mature and someone who tells him when he’s in the wrong – he won’t like his partner telling him what to do though, especially if he isn’t completely in love with them.

… has a corruption-kink, that he still has to recognize/accept, which is why he’d be crazy about an innocent partner – even if it’s a facade. Bat your lashes at him, and bite your lips and he’s gone

… loves – absolutely adores – milkmaid dresses on his partner

Lorenzo …

… loves a good struggle – so, someone with an attitude – a diva!

… although he wants sass, he’d be mad if his partner refused to listen to him – but as mentioned above: he loves a good struggle, so challenge him.

… adores long hair, especially if worn down.

… wants a partner who always dresses up prettily – just for him!

… play hard to get and he’ll be running after you like a starved dog – but don’t let him grovel for too long, otherwise he’ll be fed up.

… he wants someone who’ll take care of him and praise him, someone who radiates warmth, someone who lets him be the little spoon once in a while.

… wouldn’t want his partner to be taller than him.

… wants someone who only shows their true self to him – to people that they are close and intimate with.

… otherwise, he’d love for his partner to be more introverted.

Draco …

… wants someone he can pamper.

… needs someone who will pamper him emotionally.

… loves lighter hair.

… adores the dark academia style on his partner.

… needs someone who’ll listen to him – someone who is honest with him if need be.

… he’d need someone more goofy – a good-natured partner (that he can easily manipulate if he has to)

Blaise …

… loves long hair.

… is drawn to out-going and playful personalities – someone he can have fun with.

… if his partner does not shy back from telling people to fuck off he’d be on his hands and knees for them.

… would absolutely freckles and/or siren-eyes – he’d be simping 24/7.

… thick thighs for days for this boy.

… someone who is shorter than him.

Tom …

… wants someone smart, witty and strong-willed – but someone who will submit to him (although I believe the dark side of him would enjoy if they put up a fight once in a while, he’d enjoy the putting his partner in their place)

… would hate a clingy partner – but they would have to be ready to give him affection whenever he wants.

… does not care about hair length, but he’d like darker hair.

… needs (not wants) a caring partner, someone who’ll stubbornly tell him to finally eat or get some sleep.

A/N: What do you think their ideal types would be?

[emphistic]

"Buttface"

Things Reader Should Acknowledge: I THINK IVE FINALLY GOTTEN THE HANG OF TUMBLR (hip hip hooray!), i plan on having yuuji being sukuna's baby brother, however, yuuji hasnt been born yet

Prologue: Ever since Sukuna moved in next door, you two have grown closer. Like, impossibly close. One might even call you two "friends;" albeit Sukuna would always shut that idea down. But one thing Sukuna wouldn't shut down? — is that he loves to see you smile. And he would do anything to hear your laugh, over and over again.

A/N: this is in the same universe as "I'm Lactose Intolerant", and while the ages of sukuna and reader dont really matter here, i wrote this with the idea of sukuna being 14 years old and reader is 13 years old (feel free to change that to whatever you desire), brownie points to whoever recognizes the movie that sukuna and reader are watching

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK (REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

"This movie is stupid."

"You think everything is stupid, Stupid." You quip back, flicking Sukuna's forehead.

"Touché." He scoffs, and crosses his arms over his chest before leaning further back into the couch. You put your legs on his lap.

You grin to yourself, wondering if he really didn't notice that you called him by the name "Stupid". Then you think, he's probably just in a good mood, and go back to watching the comedy playing on the screen.

"I mean, how can it take you so long to figure out that someone who looks exactly like you is actually your long lost twin sister?" Sukuna moves his hand around to somehow make his point seem more valid.

"Besides, isn't this supposed to be a comedy? Where's the humor in this? This isn't funny, at all," Sukuna drones on — until you decide that you've finally had enough.

"This isn't funny? Well . . . it's not like you're funny, either." You stick your tongue out at Sukuna, in a teasing manner — to which he does the same.

"That's just what you think. I bet you didn't even know that all your friends come to me during break just to listen to me talk. In fact, most of the time, I'm not even trying to joke around, I'm just that naturally funny," Sukuna wore a smug look on his face.

"Sure, 'Kuna. They're just laughing because you have such a funny face. Sometimes I even get you mixed up with a chihuahua, you know."

"Oh really?" Sukuna glares at you, and gets closer to your face.

You copy him, "Yes — really."

At this point, the tips of your guys' noses were just centimeters away from touching. You could practically feel his warm breath on your face.

Woah.

Now you could hear your own breathing quicken.

Since when were Sukuna's eyes so red?

Your cheeks felt warm.

Why are his eyes so, so—?

"Buttface." Sukuna interrupts the silence.

You get pulled back to reality. "What did you just call me!?"

"What, you deaf now? I called you 'buttface,' Dumbass."

"Seriously, someone needs to control your vocabulary."

"Pft, I don't need any controlling."

You laughed, "Sure, Sukuna. Sure."

The movie ended, and the credits rolled. Sukuna grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, before getting off the couch.

"Want something to drink?" He peered over his shoulder at you, raising a brow.

"Ah, sure. Lemonade."

"Too bad, I ain't getting it for you," Sukuna stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweats and walked off — to the kitchen, you assumed.

You grumbled, and threw a pillow at his back. It just bounced off, though, and you sighed.

He returned minutes later, with a glass of lemonade in his hand. Which was a clear sign he was trying to aggravate you, because he's expressed multiple times his strong detesting of the refreshing drink. (You completely disagree with him, by the way.)

"Dude, seriously?" You frowned.

"Totally serious. I mean, I couldn't resist. This glass of lemonade was just calling my name." He took a sip.

"It is so good."

Another sip.

"Shame you don't have a glass yourself."

And another sip.

You were practically ripping out your hair at this point. "C'mon, 'Kuna. If you won't get me a glass, can I just have a tiny sip of yours?" You entreated him with all your might.

Sukuna rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger, pretending to think about his decision. Finally, he said, "What's with that name you keep calling me? And — what's the magic word?"

You huffed, "Please?"

He gestured for you to go on.

You clasped your hands together in a desperate, beggar-like manner. "Pretty please, Sukuna? Just a teensy weensy sip? For poor ol' me."

"Hmm, let me think. How about . . . no."

You gawked at the pink haired boy.

"WHAT."

"You heard me."

"Aghhh!" You jumped on Sukuna, trying to grab the glass of lemonade yourself. If he wasn't going to share, you just had to take matters into your own hands — literally.

Your attempts were fruitless, however; Sukuna just kept on raising the glass higher and higher above his head, to the point you couldn't even reach his wrist. Damn him and his stupid growth spurt.

His hand starts to shake as you try to climb him like a tree. Next thing you know, your wish is answered. You got your lemonade. Except, not in the way you had hoped. The lemonade was everywhere. On your clothes, Sukuna's clothes, the couch, everywhere.

"Oh shit." This time, you didn't correct Sukuna's obscene language.

The room became so silent that you would be able to hear a pin drop.

"Sukuna!" You whisper-shout. (You had no idea why you were whispering.)

"Don't look at me, this was your fault!" His hand still held the now empty glass.

"Me? This was all you," you retorted, jabbing a finger into the older boy's chest.

"Sureee, Y/N. Let's just forget about the fact that you were practically climbing my body."

You blushed.

"You could've just gotten your own cup of lemonade, but no, you just had to spill mine."

You scoffed, "Well, you could've shared, but you didn't — because your shellfish."

Sukuna looked at you funny, "Do you mean 'selfish'?"

"Same thing, you know I make mistakes with pronunciation."

He shrugged. Then, a great idea popped into your head.

"Your mess," you exclaim, before pushing off of Sukuna and darting away, only to be pulled back by your hood.

"Hey!" You shout, falling back onto Sukuna's chest.

"This is your mess. You caused this, remember?"

You groaned, turned around, and tackled Sukuna. You guys ended up rolling off the couch altogether. Pillows were thrown, and the lemonade spread onto the carpet.

"Let go of my foot, you big oaf!" You yelled, shoving at Sukuna's face.

"Not until you admit this was all your fault." He continued to wrestle with you on the ground.

"In. your. dreams."

You guys continued to fight, which made the mess even bigger. It felt like hours had passed. Hours where you still didn't get even a sip of lemonade. Then, you heard the sound of keys, and next thing you know; your parents walked in.

Your heartbeat hammered in your chest.

Your mom and dad took one good look at the two of you on the floor, and your mom said, "Knock it off, you two. And clean up the couch. I don't want my living room smelling like lemonade for the rest of the year." They walked into the kitchen.

You turned back to look at Sukuna, just to find him already staring at you. You guys continued to stare at each other before bursting out into laughter. Tears were basically streaming down the both of your guys' faces at this point.

Your mom yelled from the kitchen, "Ah, young love these days. So different from us — right, honey?" Your dad responded with a loud chuckle.

Looking down, you realized the position you were in. Sukuna lying on his back beneath you, while you were sitting on top of him. The expression on your face immediately soured.

You and Sukuna pulled away from each other in record timing, both of your expressions clearly, visibly flustered.

[fanatic-writers]

Loki Drabble

A/n: Just a little thought I had while watching the new episode of Loki. Requests are open!

Word Count: 844

Pairing: Loki x TVA!Reader

Summary: The three times Loki sees you in the past and the one time he finally catches up to the present

Warnings: Unedited, Season 2 spoilers ish

You were at your desk in the TVA when you heard the commotion of your coworkers gawking at someone in front of you. “Y/n,” a strange man gasped as his hands came to cup your cheeks “gods darling you have to help me.” Your brow furrowed in confusion as you moved out of the man’s grasp. “You have five seconds to explain why you’re grabbing my face and calling me darling before I prune you.” You huffed in response, hand already searching for your weapon. “Darling, it’s me. It’s Loki.” He raised his hands in surrender as you shoved your time stick in his face. “Loki!? You mean the variant I’m supposed to be hunting down Loki?” You raise a brow, charging up the weapon and preparing to use it. Loki looked hurt, defeated even, as he seemed to melt into despair “You-you don’t remember me?” He frowned “I remember it's my job to get you off the timeline so the world doesn’t end.” You spoke as you lunged towards him. Loki was quicker though, sprinting through the hallways as you called for backup. You turned around a corner after him and heard a sort of yelp before you watched him seemingly get ripped from the universe. “What the hell was that?” You frowned as you looked to the men around you who just shrugged in response.

He had been moving through the TVA for a while now, through time more than space it seemed. He felt his body being ripped apart and pulled back together, he kept his eyes closed for a moment before he registered a scream that sounded oh so familiar. “Y/n?” He started hands already up as he approached you apprehensively. He’d had his fair share of run-ins with the past yous now and he just wanted you to recognize him. Maybe this was the actual war that He Who Remained had promised him. A war inside himself every time he saw you and you didn’t recognize him one bit. Didn’t remember the fight you’d put up for Mobius to keep him around, didn’t remember the adventures you’d been on with him. “Please don’t hurt me.” You mumbled and it was then that Loki realized that this you was different from the others. You were younger, the emotions you usually kept steeled away were present on your face, the main one being fear. He took a cautious step toward you “I could never hurt you.” He mumbled, looking into your confused eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again but before he could he was being ripped away once more, his hand reaching out to you as if you could save him.

“Where the hell do you think you’ve been?” Your voice echoed down the hallway as you marched up to Loki, looking decidedly pissed. “Darling-“ He started but you stopped him before he could get to far. “I stuck my neck out for you and then you escape?” You huffed, arms crossed over your chest. “I should’ve just let Mobius kill you after your little movie but no, I felt bad, and this is what it gets me.” You paused for a moment in your rant “And stop calling me darling, it isn’t going to win you any brownie points.” It must’ve been his first day he realized a little too late as you began to slip cuffs over his wrists and drag him back to the room he was held in. “You’ve got the wrong guy.” He tried to explain but even he didn’t know if he would be able to talk his way out of this one. “Oh, so there’s some other you running around wearing the exact same clothes doing the exact same thing as you?” You raised a brow as you shoved him into the room. “Honestly, for the god of lies, I thought you’d be better at the whole talking your way out of things. I mean seriously ‘you’ve got the wrong guy,’ I’m not a child Loki.” You mocked his voice as best you could and he couldn’t help the small smirk that came to his lips, remembering the other times you’d done it in far less serious matters. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like wha-“ “Loki?! LOKI! What the hell!?” You looked down at the cuffs that had fallen to the floor and sent a message to Mobius that Loki was still at large.

You were walking out of the war room the next time he spotted you “Y/n, I don’t have time to explain but you know me and I need your help.” “I know I know you?” You looked at him confused “I’m more concerned about the whole appearing in front of me as a stringy flesh monster.” Loki breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around you “I love you darling, please don’t forget me again.” He paused for a moment pulling away to look at you “Stringy flesh monster?” “I’d say that’s a good way of putting it.” Mobius piped up from behind you.

[fromchaostocosmos]

I think something that is at the top of my of list for things that frustrate and upset it about all of this how Jewish victimhood is talked about and treated in non-Jewish spaces.

There is this very nasty and insidious way that Jewish victimhood gets talked about in both Left and Right spaces. And it categorized and spoken about as victimhood and "victimhood"

Where as in Jewish spaces is treated and spoken as Jewish survival and Jewish trauma. One that we more and more recognizing that we don't fully understand the full scope of said trauma and a trauma we know we have never had a chance to fully work through because of the many traumas that been built over each other.

We are fully aware we have not worked through our trauma from the Holocaust and we know that we never gotten a chance to work multiple other traumas.

We also know that we will never get anything close being able to have something like restorative justice because that involves the offenders participating and taking responsibility and that just doesn't happen.

Rather the Left and the Right claim that we like to be "perpetual victims" as a get out of jail free card and/or to score brownie points.

Just ask consistently online Jewish person if the have heard "eternal Jewish victimhood" "perpetual victims" "always a victims" etc and they will ask you which side's comments are looking for, the Right or the Left because they've got for both.

This sadly has only gotten worse after Oct. 7

[babyyoda234]

Tea Time with Alfred

Context: Alfred has always been a close family friend of your Grandma. After her death both of you haven't been dealing with the grief very well, so you decide to start hanging out more to ease the pain. (Y/G/N: your grandma’s name)

Knocking on the door to Wayne Manor, I fumble with the basket of muffins in my left hand. A very confused Jason opens the door.

"Look Y/N..." He begins awkwardly shifting his balance. Guilt spreads across his sculpted features.

"With love, I'm not here for you." I interrupt putting my hand up to silence him, "Whatever you have to say, save it for another time."

Brushing past him, I wander down the hallway past a dozen or so portraits of the Wayne family. With the high ceilings and shelves filled with books older than my great Grandma, I narrowly get lost in the grandeur. One of the glass shelves catches my attention. A much younger looking Alfred beams up at me while a soaked brunette angrily swats at his shoulder with a shoe. My heart contracts when I recognize the woman. Years before she got sick, Y/G/N was radiant. Although the photo is in black and white, I know for certain she is wearing her faithful orange sweater that was in rags by the time I came around. The photo reads: Alfred's revenge London 1965. My eyes well up with tears at the thought of her being so healthy. The image of how frail she looked in that hospice bed will forever be burned in my heart.

The next photo over shows Alfred, Grandma, and I at my first visit to Gotham. Freshly nine, Gotham was such an adventure. Driving into the city was... nothing short of magical. There may have been crime in every corner, but her stories brought much needed light into the city. My 9 year old self hadn't yet grown into herself. With cracked glasses I had broken moments prior and aggressively neon braces, my fashion had a long way to go. I was probably too big to go on Alfred's shoulders at that point, but he picked me up anyway for the walk around the city. The crowded boardwalk behind us sold the best deep fried oreos in Gotham city. A teenager at the time, Dick had convinced me that the secret ingredient was cocaine... As an adult looking at Gotham city, that joke may not be too far off.

The infamous smell of Alfred's baking grounds me to the present. Dickie isn't stealing my gameboy anymore. He's happily living in Bludhaven revamping their police force. Shit, I really need to call him back. How do you tell someone that if you talk about it there is no guarantee that the crying will ever stop?

It doesn't matter what he’s been saying. It's better to not burden him with this. I take a deep breath to avoid a breakdown. Cookies. Tea time. Glancing at my watch, I realize I'm five minutes late. Classic y/n.

Alfred's back is to me when I finally stumble into the kitchen. A mischievous grin emerges on my face as I creep closer making a conscious effort to silence my footsteps. Jason used to say that watching the two of us sneak up on each other was like watching a cheetah stalking its prey. Of course, Alfred always made it look so easy though. Halfway there....

Stirring a bowl of brownie batter by hand, he calls out to me.

"You've got to do a lot better than that if you want to sneak up on me."

I stifle a laugh throwing my hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Alfie.... Old habits die hard. You would not believe what happened to me today..."

Conversing with the older man fills a void, I have been missing. Telling him about life made everything less scary. If I can spin these horrifying events into a joke during tea time.. well I guess I can survive it.

Alfred isn't one to diverge intense grief, yet I will never forget how heartbroken he was when he explained how painful it was to talk to me. Although our features may be completely different, it was the mannerisms that hurt the most to see: the way I held my hands when I was nervous, the anxious laughter in stressful situations, the silly regency romance novels that sat on my bedside table, the intense hatred of the barren winter... My entire being has been shrouded by her love. For better or worse.

The first couple months, I could almost pretend she wasn't gone. Working two jobs while attending school doesn't give me much time to reflect. However, the holidays left an unspoken hollow void. The empty seat at dinner. The contact I would instinctively dial. The horrible sinking in my chest when I remembered the phone would ring forever.

At the beginning, I think we both pretended we were talking to her. Now as I cackle over his photo collection of Tim falling asleep in public places, I realize how much I love the man who was so important to her. This pain may always stay with me, but what is grief if not love persevering?

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 3

Shit! I can't believe I forgot to post this this morning! I don't know where my head was, honestly.

I'm reaching a point where I'm running out of plot so I don't think this story is going to be longer than 10 chapters max. A lot of the second half of the movie takes place over months as the main character gets ready to marry the rich bachelor, only for her to find out that her husband signed the divorce papers and she forgot ON HER WEDDING DAY (as in she was informed on her wedding day that she forgot). Which really won't work for this story.

So yeah, I suspect to be finished with this story sooner rather than later.

Eddie does have to do a lot of grovelling but he unfortunately gets worse before he gets better. He's really REALLY dumb in this, okay?

TAG LIST IS CLOSED FOR THIS STORY

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie watched Steve walk away and he gently put the brownie back into the box.

Fuck.

His stomach churned as he swallowed down the bite in his mouth. He had forgotten so much about the man he once swore to love until the end of his days. But he remembered that look of absolute betrayal before the mask dropped.

So Eddie did what he was good at when times got tough, he ran. He was supposed to have been trying to convince Steve to come with him, but he had fucked it up so badly there was no coming back from that.

The worst part is that there had been a few times in the last decade where Eddie could have healed what was between them, that he could have reached out and gotten back in touch. But Eddie had ran each time.

He wouldn’t say each time ended in a rushed marriage, but two of them definitely did.

Eddie would think about reaching out only to hear about how well Steve was doing from Dustin or Max and how happy he was and Eddie would run out a marry the first guy who would fuck him.

The other times he would think about contacting Steve and some small trouble (or not so small in the case of his band breaking up) would crop up and he be scrambling to keep his head above water.

Steve was thriving here in Hawkins and wasn’t that just a kick to the head. He had a little bakery that was doing well, Robin was here, and if all the times the kids called Eddie were any indication, Steve was still on speaking terms with all of them.

He needed a fucking drink. He didn’t care that it was only a little after noon, he needed to turn off his brain. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the bakery.

“I thought I recognized the van,” a warm voice said. “Were you gonna tell me you were in town?”

Eddie looked around before he spotted his Uncle Wayne, leaning up against the side of the building.

“Wayne!” he cried and threw his arms around his neck.

Wayne hugged him back. “It’s good to see you kid.”

“Of course I was going to tell you I was in town,” Eddie scoffed. “I was just trying to take care of something first.”

Wayne looked behind him at the bakery and raised an eyebrow. “You coming back to make an honest man out him or are you setting to break his heart?”

“Why are you on his side?” Eddie whined. “Yes, I said some pretty stupid shit, but he wasn’t blameless in all the fuckery that went down.”

Wayne’s expression softened. “I know.” He put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk about why you’re in town.”

“Mmk,” Eddie said weakly, letting Wayne lead him down the street to the nearby diner.

****

Steve was hyperventilating. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough. Eddie Munson was the biggest asshole in the world and he still looked like sex on legs.

That funny little lopping walk he did when he wanted to move fast but didn’t want to run.

The long hair in waves around his face. His lean body stuffed into the tightest pair of jeans Steve had ever seen and he used to wear tight jeans for fuck’s sake. The god damn eyeliner on his big doe eyes.

And peaking out of the leather jacket were even more tattoos. Which it made sense considering he was some hot shot tattoo artist up in Seattle. But still! It wasn’t fair that the man who broke his heart wasn’t fat and balding at thirty. Nooooo...he had to come back to blue his balls as well as break his heart.

“Do I need to break his balls?” Robin asked coming back from the freezer. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. Not at Steve specifically, but glared at the situation in general.

Steve gave a kind of hiccuping laugh and his lungs filled with the air he desperately needed.

“No,” he said with a broken smile. “I handled it. I’m just going to send it to Hal to make sure he’s not trying to take me to the cleaners or some other bullshit.”

Robin nodded. Hal Peterson was their business attorney, but he’d know enough to make sure Steve wasn’t being shafted by the whole ordeal.

“So what’s got you around the twist?” she asked.

“He looks hotter now than he did before he left,” Steve whined. “He’s supposed to balding and fat and falling apart at the seams. But no...he’s leaner, still with those long ridiculous curls, and better put together than I was.” He waved a hand at himself. His hair was greasy from standing around a hot oven, his hands and apron were covered in flour, he had frosting on his nose.

Robin came over and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and he let out a little sob.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she murmured. “Are you going to be okay?”

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Probably not until he blows out of town again.”

Robin kissed the top of his head. “Let’s go out to the Hideout tonight. The shop will be fine. We handled today, we can handle tomorrow, too.”

Steve let out a shuddering sigh and nodded into her stomach.

“Good,” she stepped back and cupped his cheeks. “I know this sucks but you are the strongest, most capable person I’ve ever met. A weaker man would crumble under all this, but that person is not you. You understand me?”

He let out another shuddering sigh. “Thanks, Robs. I needed that.”

“I know you did, dingus,” she said fondly. “So lets knock today out of the ballpark, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

****

“I was hoping,” Eddie was telling Wayne, “that I could roll into town, get him to sign the divorce papers, and spend the rest of the week with you. But no, he’s being a stubborn ass.”

Wayne snorted. “You always did aim too high.”

“I thought he’d want to be rid of me,” Eddie huffed. “I’ve done nothing but run around all over this god forsaken country just to put some distance between me and him. I’ve hurt him in every possible way. I thought he was just wanting closure you know, calling me into town like he did.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “He called you into to town?”

Eddie nodded and placed his chin on his hands on the table. “I was a bit of an ass about it because I didn’t explain things to Chrissy, but yeah. He told me that if I wanted to divorce him so bad, I’d have to come back to Hawkins and do the job proper.”

The waitress came set Wayne’s food down and Eddie sat up so she could do the same for him.

Wayne waited until she was gone before he turned back to Eddie. “When you told me you were marrying Chrissy, I was more than a little surprised.”

Eddie rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I know. I have my reasons, I just can’t tell you yet. But I promise it’s for a good reason.”

“He’s done really well for himself here,” Wayne said softly.

“And I haven’t?” Eddie spat out a tad too bitterly.

Wayne scowled. “Did I say you hadn’t, boy?” he snapped.

Eddie’s head reared back from the shock of his normally mild mannered uncle to snap at him. He shook his head, his lip beginning to quiver.

“I’m on your side,” Wayne said, to Eddie’s scoff. “I know I keep hyping up Steve, but I remember what you two were like when things were good, son. You were incandescent. But I look at you now and that sparkle has gone. I want to be happy for you, but first you’ve got to show me that you’re happy for yourself.”

“You don’t think I’m happy?” Eddie asked in confusion. “I have my own tattoo shop, I’m going to marry a great girl, and I’m still friends with most of the members of my band. What’s not to be happy about?”

Wayne shrugged. “You tell me.”

Eddie frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Wayne dug his thumbs into his belt and licked his top lip nice and slow. Eddie ignored him and just stabbed at his food.

“Kiddo,” Wayne said, shaking his head, “you’re still in love with that boy even with these ten years gone.” His chin jutted up to point to Eddie’s food.

Eddie froze with his fork half way to his mouth and then looked down at his plate. It took him a full minute to realize what Wayne was talking about.

“Oh.”

He had ordered the breakfast platter. It had hash browns, scrambled eggs, ham, bacon, and sausage with a side of chocolate chip pancakes. But Eddie didn’t like hash browns or sausage. He would give them to Steve who did.

He thought about the little box that was sat next to him on the bench and the brownie Steve had concocted for him so long ago.

Eddie swallowed thickly, his stomach turning sour as he stared at the hash browns and sausage he was never going to eat.

“Eat up,” Wayne said with a soft smile. “You don’t want it to go to waste.” He scooped up the hash browns and put them on his plate and then stabbed both sausage.

He dipped the first sausage into his over easy eggs, ignoring Eddie’s turmoil. At least for the moment.

Eddie brought the fork all the way to his mouth and chewed, not really tasting it.

He ate through most of the food that way, until it came to the pancakes. He moaned happily.

“Seattle just doesn’t make pancakes the way Benny does,” he said softly.

Wayne’s smile was no less tender this time, but infinitely more fond. “You could always come back to Hawkins. You can set up a tattoo shop anywhere, so why not here?”

Eddie shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to Steve. Divorce his ass and then move back into town with Chrissy in tow, shoving it in his face that I moved on.”

“I can see that,” Wayne murmured. “I just miss my boy is all and would love to see you more often than I get.”

Eddie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you do. And I would like you to meet Chrissy before the wedding.”

“I’d like that too.”

****

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

2- @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

3- @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

4- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

5- @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

6- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

7- @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

8- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @blackpanzy

9- @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras @swimmingbirdrunningrock

10- @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites @mac-attack19

[comradekarin]

are fans not allowed to prefer Taylor over Beyonce? why do you people always use the race card like do something else its getting tiring atp...

You are definitely allowed to prefer Taylor Swift over Beyoncé for… whatever reason that may be god bless your unseasoned soul. What you shouldn’t be doing is diminishing the work of Beyoncé and other black and queer artists in order to prop Taylor up. The fact that it’s the year of 2023 and we’re having these weird ass conversations of can Beyoncé even sing, dance, or put on a performance? You don’t even have to be a fan of Beyoncé to recognize the immense talent and impact that woman has on multiple demographics of people. Whether that be the Black community, other POC, or the LGBTQ community, Beyoncé has made an impact. And she actually does her research too and doesn’t use minorities as brownie points in her work (cough taylor’s vogue dancer cough). Beyoncé’s work only continues to improve, mind you. And to either deny or downplay that talent in order to prop up a mediocre white woman and her mediocre lyrics and her mediocre production is insane.

Prefer Taylor over Beyoncé? Ok. Love both? Ok. There is nothing wrong with that. As I stated in my previous post, I don’t like comparing female artists; it doesn’t do anything for me or those artists (especially since, from what I understand, they’re on good terms). However, if you expect me to believe that what’s considered the standard for Taylor is the same standard for Beyoncé (or, the standard for white artists vs the standard for black artists), it’s not going to happen. If you want an example, Beyoncé preparing for Coachella is more than enough proof; she had to destroy and completely reset her body after giving birth to twins in order to give the best show she could possibly give. Being the first black woman to headline the festival meant she had literally everything running on the line. We see this sentiment true with other black artists, too, like Halle Bailey, who had to undergo death threats, racism, bullying, and harassment despite having a perfect performance on the big screen and during her live performances. Halle had to prove she deserved to be treated with human decency, and had she even had a strand of hair left out she would have been crucified. I can even go on about the treatment of darker skinned vs light skinned/mixed women (those in closer proximity to whiteness) in the rap industry. We would be here forever talking about this.

And it’s not me pulling out the race card, it’s me simply recognizing that white women are celebrated for their mediocrity and black women are not. It’s me saying that Beyoncé’s fans calling out Taylor’s whiteness is in no where comparable to them calling out Beyoncé’s blackness, especially since Taylor’s whiteness benefits her in contrast to the way Beyoncé’s blackness punishes her. We can no longer pretend the struggle of white women are identical to the struggle of black women. Because, as we’ve seen with Taylor, her ally ship is performative, something she can hang up in the closet and forget about when she goes home at night. When it comes down to it, she will always adhere to her white womanhood to get her out of the shit she places herself in.

If you want to be ignorant and play colorblind to these issues, that’s on you. But don’t expect me to pretend that there isn’t an issue here—an issue that has always been here.

[romantichomicide95]

the amount of discourse i see within the white community speaking for poc without actually recognizing our voices or having ever actually talked to a poc…all in the name of looking good and getting brownie points online. do yall even actually care about the struggles of poc? do you care about how we feel? do you actually wanna know what we find racist/upsetting or you wanna make those decisions for us too?

do yall ever get off the internet echo chamber and do anything…anything at all…to help minority’s? . and i mean this goes for all marginalized communities. and i don’t mean your “like or reblog if you stand with” posts i mean actually doing something.

to quote that one song:

“you can join the march, protest, scream and shout. get on Twitter, hashtag, and seem like you're down. but they see through it all, people believe you now? you said publicly, "Rest in peace, Mike Brown". you speak about equality, but do you really mean it? are you marching for freedom, or when it's convenient? want people to like you, want to be accepted. that’s probably why you are out here protesting. don’t think for a second you don't have incentive. is this about you, well, then what's your intention??”

[written-beyond-the-grave]

Getting with Mitch Rapp HC's

After an intense who knows how long a bitch finally cracked and decided to write about Mitch Rapp since he’s a sweetie who doesn’t get talked about enough… like I been under the tag and I know writing takes so much time and effort so I decided to step tf in and give it a turn… bare with me

We all know after the death of Katrina this man went completely off grid, quit college, didn’t speak to his brother, went all in on avenging her on his own….. To take down a whole cell and the mastermind… yeah, white boy won’t shoot up a school, but will become an almost martyr (he’s what the govt would deadass hire, and keep on rotation)

ANYWAYS

I dead do feel like Mitch would we cautious, wary, and sus as hell with a civilian s/o

Let’s unpack: this man after Katrina probably wasn’t seeing anyone after that being emotionally scarred and whatnot (maybe he had to fuck someone or a few for the sake of a mission or kiss them, but it was just business). So the likelihood of this man entertaining someone else like with intention and not just some one fuck wonder is gonna be crazy ngl. This man has to look over his shoulder and his trust issues got trust issues, like his energy on a regular basis doesn’t scream “stay away”

But anyway, to catch his attention I feel like would be by constantly meeting him in mundane situations. I’m not doing the whole “you’re partners” trope, my black ass isn’t in this luv

Laundry room in the apartment and y’all get clothes mixed in on accident and you end up with his shirt or something— or the age old tale of him getting your underwear…. Or y’all shifting through the mixed laundry picking out what’s yours lmfaoooo

Mail getting dropped off in the wrong box or something

Bumping into each other at the grocery store and Mitch has the bare necessities in his basket and yours is like girl dinner coded

And the thing is, he’s not necessarily rude in interactions (when him throwing knives and punching his punching bag got loud and the person who owned the building asked Mitch to keep it down, and Mitch was respectful and said sure…. He’s not an asshole) but he might be on edge and try to speed things up

I feel like what might get the ball rolling might be a few different things: him seeing someone following you home that he KNOWS doesn’t live in his building (ik this man recognized everyone who lives in that bitch), being catcalled aggressively while walking home, seeing you stay in your car because a sus ass person is waiting for you to get out your car so he comes up to your window to help you out, or some comment about a terrorist attack “shoutout to terrorists, bc the US when to Afghanistan saw all this oil and snatched their chain. “We” (bc ain’t no WE here) snatch their chain and they retaliate, then we yell “it’s the Muslims” to spark a debate

Ngl he’s gonna have to let you cook with that one bc I feel like the “shoutout to terrosits” would’ve had that man spiraling and attacking you immediately. IK that man would spazz on the spot…. So let’s keep it to the safer options hm?

Soooooo after that it would spark a bit of conversation and solidify the familiarity bc here is your neighbor that you tend to see sparklingly helping you out

And being the person I am, I feel like as a thank you you’d leave him some brownies, cookies, or maybe a whole ass lasagna with instructions on how to best reheat at his doorstep being too shy to outright do it

Mans is confused but I feel like he’d take it to be nice, leave it in the fridge for like 2 days until he’s back late from a meeting and needs something in him and the only in that barren ass fridge is the lasagna…. He indulges and once he finds it’s good as hell he bodies half of it

He probably has it for lunch/dinner next day too. And then like washes it and knocks on your door to like give it back. He tells you thanks and you didn’t need to, but you say otherwise. And at this point with his stubborn ass if you’d invite over for dinner he’d respectfully decline so now there needs to be an event that puts him in your place of residence

Cue you taking a tumble on iced pavement

Mwah, inconvenience 😘

And now Mitch being at the right place wrong time, has to help you up and probably check for a concussion since that fall was nasty. He helped you into the elevator then into your place to help check your head and then like how you’re functioning bc goddamn. Once he figures out your fine, he’ll tell you to get a professional opinion and he makes you an nice ice pack and gives advice for how to take care of it

He thinks he’s good to leave you until he sees you struggling to get your bearings. He hates that he does this, but asks if you need any help since your mind is scrambled. Maybe he gets your some Advil, but then realizes you can’t take it on an empty stomach (he’s done it too many damn times himself) and so he looks into your fridge for something to heat up in the microwave to give you before you take the pill 

This is where the relationship starts and y’all make small talk, and how this is the longest you ever seen this man. He smirks, and snarks back. Once he gives you the food and sees you take the pill he’s off the clock and bids you a goodnight 

Until you see him gain tomorrow since he probably starts to check in on you, not like he’s been getting emotionally fed by having an associate outside of work that isn’t trying to kill him or isn’t Stan or Irene. Just a normie…. But he be lying about his feelings 

Next interaction is him coming back from a semi rough work week, and you catch him before he goes in and since he looks over it. Maybe a home cooked meal could help? You invite him over, no strings attached and go ok your way to get the braised short ribs out the oven for the mashed potatoes. You don’t tell him what’s for dinner tho

Thinking nothing will result of this, you get a knock at your door 30 minutes later with him and his hair still slightly damp. And maybe like a case in his beer bc he was told to never show up empty handed (so cute). Then bam! Y’all have some nice conversation, Mitch making sure to keep the attention off him and his job and do some information digging about you. School you went to, parents, hobbies, etc

He’s also scarfing down the ribs and such, you’re probably going to send him with food home tbh. He looks like he’ll need it 

After that it’s really wraps, like it destined for y’all to be real friends! Once he gets sent home with the plastic tupper (we don’t give guests the glass in case we don’t get shit back) we all know he’ll be back again

Then starts the tradition of Mitch eating at your place for like once a week that later gets bumped up to like 3 times a week. At some point your forgetting ingredients and maybe text Mitch about it, funny thing is he’s at the liquor store getting alcohol you might like since beer isn’t always going to cut it. He texted back what you need, and when he arrives he hands you what you need. This man stopped next door to the Shop Rite to get you the stuff…. Eventually I feel like he just buys your groceries since he eat EATS with all the work he puts in 

Friendship established

Y’all been shooting the shit for a while until there’s an emotional shift…. Lets say he’s having an episode of anger and just shuts down. On top the roof brooding and shit, it’s Katrina in another nightmare, him walk my himself with a panic attack, Stan up his ass, he just cannot right now. You take an elevator up there to see what’s up. You ask him what’s up, what’s wrong but he just ignores you. And by this point you know he can be a tight lipped lil shit…. But it doesn’t stop you from being there. So you do what you know best about which is just being there

So y’all sit in silence. And maybe you start to ramble to fill the silence, talking about the way your parents did a thing about colors when you were super and didn’t feel like talking. They said numbers “1 was green meaning yes, 2 was red so no to whatever they asked, 3 was yellow so a I’m not sure”. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Silence 

“Are you ok to be by yourself?”

Him staring straight ahead

“Do you want me to go?”

A painful hard silence

You respect his wishes and get ready to leave him until you heard a soft “2”, and the. Sit your ass down.

“Ok, so you want silence?”

“…..3”

“Ok, I’ll just sit here and watch the time…. We can get ice cream after….” You were doing your best dammit

Mitch felt a fond feeling some up over him, but didn’t say anything. You guys were up there until it got too damn late and cold. You tell him it’s time to go, and that when he looks at you like LOOKS and it’s just different…. You know he doesn’t want to go, and you understand but you can’t let self sabotage happen

“I get it, life is lifing and shit sucks but even  when you’re not ready for the day, it can’t always be night” 

This man knows you quoted Kanye

He gives you another long look, and you get up and offer your hand to help him up. He stared up at it… then grabs it to get up and y’all get inside. You two end up eating ice cream sandwiches 

Now the seed is planted for feelings to grow… MWAHAHAHAHAAAAA

After that y’all hangout regularly when he’s home, you give him normalcy in his life which he appreciates 

He will die on a hill before he admits or even acknowledges the feelings he has for you, lets be real he probably feels like he’s cheating on Katrina and that he’s not here to make friends since he’s a whole ass assassin and whatever. That’s fine, but when he’s wondering what you’re up to, or what’s for dinner, or reminiscing on a joke you made he feels warm and fuzzy and sometimes not as on edge as he usually is on missions

Stan noticed

I don’t think things will turn until he gets home one day at an odd hour of the night like 3am type shit and is bruised over his face. He just wants to lay in bed after taking a nice shower, but nah there’s you in the hall coming back from the club and having fun. You might be tipsy and say hi to Mitch but all that leaves your system once you see his face.  *giggles like a school girl kicking her feet* 

You’re on him without thinking asking what happened, he’s trying to keep it together and not blow up on you since you’re friends but he really wants to go inside. But you let him and follow him in asking for a first aid kit that he has. And you end up cleaning off his face after he showers, during that time you go to your place and get a first aid kit that is more advanced than his (that spray on band aid shit). Now it's you disinfecting wounds and putting neosporin on them and sealing it. During this time you’re complaining about wtf this man did while he was away, completely ignoring the fact that he’s in a towel. You’re giving him an earful and Mitch is rolling his eyes but not moving much bc when was the last time someone touched him so gently?

He’s probably taking in your clubbing attire while you do this, not in a weird way but like looking at the glitter, the new hair style, etc and putting it to memory 

“What the fuck were you doing? Jesus you look like shit”

Cue eye roll and for that you poke a nasty bruise that has his muscles flexing, he grabs your wrist for that

You give him a glare and don’t back down…. He answers with “The government” after that you don’t ask questions. The FBI agent assigned to your phone is probably already on your ass so you don’t need more enemies 

You fix him up, tell him to chill out, and then go to leave, but not right before him saying “thank you” 

We love a polite man who is in denial about having feelings, and you not acting in them bc Mitch is like a blank slate to read when he really wants to be

So like the way y’all talk about feelings and decide to get together and shit is not my forte, and breaking down his walls to talk about Katrina and the nature of his work to a degree that doesn’t scare you off. And his work on being emotionally available to you since he now cares for you more than he can admit

But we KNOW this man is a complete softie

Once he loves he LOVES, no question about it. And once you gain that, you have him for life

Fuck even if he’s been away for an assignment for months at a time, he’d probably head back to your apartment rather than his…. He knows where home is 

He might not be the type to declare his love for you verbally all the time, but he shows it through actions like remembering the brand of stuff you like. Bringing you dessert or picking up food for you when work has been bullshit. Maybe not a gourmet meal for breakfast in bed (he can cook but like take your expectations, he can throw down for breakfast tho and make good ass sandwiches), but he will give you the rest of the milk for the cereal. Do the dishes, trash duty, put furniture together, wait for you outside till you get off work and drive you home. And even tidy around if he sees you don’t have the time

And when things get more serious put you as an authorized user on his card without telling you. You’ll just find that shit in your Apple Wallet

He’d keep the loving touches at home but he’s a cuddle bug, loyal to a fault, and loves to spend time at home with you. Home dates are a must, but he does love a good date night to see you dressed up

He would grow to love the domestic nature of your relationship and that’s what this man needs besides a copious amount of therapy

You’d also find out that he’s a nerd, but like undercover. I feel like he’d be a Nightwing or Red Hood fan from DC, and other comics from his childhood shows as well

He’s protective, smart, probably would talk to you about getting an air tag or some government tracking thing in case of emergencies. Then maybe take you on a gun date to teach you some self defense which probably goes wrong because you’re a CIVILIAN and that punch came too fast at you and you screamed and ducked while covering your eyes. He feels bad now, but now knows to take it to baby steps 

Your assassin boyfriend has your best interest at heart, promise 

A/N: I do be writing for black readers iykyk, but here is just very general.... Let me get to the tomfoolery next time babes (like Mitch helping you take down the braids)

[stayteezdreams]

Midnight Cravings: Part Two

Plot: After you and Felix realize you have no way of contacting each other, you both wander around familiar places, hoping desperately that you might find each other again.

-Part One-

Pairing: Lee Felix x Gn!Reader

-Meet-Cute Series-

Words: ~3k; it came out a lot longer than I intended, but I'm glad! I liked writing it :)

Your best-fried wasn't sure if they should think you were sweet or crazy. Following you down various roads near the super-market where you met Felix in hopes you might recognize his apartment building was not what they had planned.

"Is this it?" They asked you as you walked down another road.

You groaned and shook your head, "Maybe? No- I don't know."

You hated that you hadn't paid more attention of your surroundings when you and Felix had walked back to his apartment that night. But you had been so engrossed in conversation with him, you didn't even take time to note how long you had been walking.

It had been nearly a week since you met Felix, and nearly a week that you spent pining after him.

You were so angry with yourself that you hadn't gotten his number, and you hated that you felt so intent on finding him. Especially when you had no idea if he would feel the same. He didn't ask for your number either, so maybe he was fine with it being a one-off meeting.

Stopping, you really started to think more about it. What if you did find his apartment? What if you knocked on the door and he answered. Would you tell him that you had been walking through the nearby neighborhoods looking for his apartment? Would he think you were weird? Would he be freaked out? You felt your gut clench. Of course he would be. This was not a normal thing to do.

You sighed and shook your head. "This is ridiculous, I don't know why I thought this was a good idea. Let's go."

Your friend pouted a bit but nodded. She really did think it was cute you felt so drawn to this guy, even after you pulled the not-so-clever move of going to a stranger's apartment to bake brownies in the middle of the night. Which she had told you off about.

But seeing your defeated face, she really did wish you had found his apartment. She had never seen you act like this about anyone. This Felix guy must be something special.

"This is the fifth time this week we've come to this store, Felix. We don't even need any groceries." Seungmin grumbled as he followed Felix down the aisles as he looked for your familiar face.

"I know, I just-"

"Want to see your brownie soulmate again, I got it." He finished Felix's thought.

Looking down the aisle he had met you in, he sighed, feeling defeat wash over him. You weren't here, just like you hadn't been the last five times he had come. He eyed a box of the brownies, the same kind the two of you had made.

'At least they restocked them.' He thought as he grabbed one and turned away.

"Let's go." He mumbled in defeat as he and Seungmin walked to check out.

Seungmin watched Felix closely as the two exited the store. "Are you going to try again tomorrow?" He asked, feeling genuine pity for Felix as he saw the slump of his shoulders.

Felix wanted to say yes, but he began to wonder if there was really a point to it. Maybe he'd never run into you again. Maybe you didn't want to run into him again. Maybe, the strong feeling he felt towards you was just a one-sided feeling. Maybe it would fade.

Felix sighed, "No, I don't think I will." But even as he said it, he knew it was a lie.

As you drove past the store you had first met Felix, you pulled in, a hope sitting in your chest that maybe, just maybe you might see Felix here.

As you walked around the store, grabbing a few things, you looked at every face you passed and felt the pit in your stomach grow deeper.

Walking down the baking aisle, you stopped at the brownies. You noted that there were only three boxes left.

"Should I get two?" You mumbled. Thinking for a moment, you settled on one as you grabbed a box of brownies. The exact same kind you had made with Felix.

Would Felix think of me when he makes brownies? Will he think of me at all?

You sighed as you felt pathetic for your own thoughts.

No, probably not.

You however did think of Felix as you made the brownies. You thought of the jokes the two of you made in hushed voices in his darkened kitchen at one in the morning. You thought of the bright smile on his face that felt like the sun itself. You thought of how sweet and kind he was towards you. And then you thought about the sinking realization that you had no way to reach him again. And that you might never see him again.

Why do I feel like this? I knew him for three hours, why do I feel like I got my heart broken?

You put your head in your hands.

I've never fallen for someone so easily before. Why now? It would be so much easier if I could just forget.

You thought back on something your friend had said earlier. 'Maybe it was love at first sight. Maybe you're soulmates. Maybe that's why you feel like you need to find him.'

You had scoffed at her words, thinking maybe she was just teasing you. But as your emotions seemed to only get harsher, you started to wonder if there might be some truth to her words. No matter how unrealistic it sounded.

Forgetting to set your timer, you threw yourself on the couch and turned on the TV, your eyes heavy as you felt exhaustion wash over you. You continued to replay the few hours you had with Felix, and before you knew it your eyes started to close.

As the smell of smoke filled your nose, you woke from your accidental nap in a dazed panic. The memory of the brownies caused you to rush into the kitchen and throw all the windows open before scrambling to get the brownies out of the oven.

After the panic of the next ten minutes, you sat back on your couch and let out a sigh. You made a note to yourself to call the landlord and tell him your fire alarm might not be working, because there was no way it shouldn't have gone off.

When the adrenaline finally faded you dealt with the burned brownies as you let out a scoff. "Nice one Y/n." You groaned, feeling sad as you looked at the charred brownies now in the trash. "I really wanted those too."

Looking at the clock, you noted it was getting late, but it wasn't midnight, so maybe it wouldn't be as unhinged this time if you went and got another box. Thinking back to when you met Felix, you let hope rise a bit as you decided to take a walk to the store.

Felix grumbled to himself as he finished sweeping up the remains of his brownie mix from the kitchen floor. He hadn't been paying attention when set the bowl down, he hadn't realized he set it on the corner, only for it to topple off the second he let go.

It was entirely his fault and he knew it. His mind was too plagued with thoughts of you that he wasn't paying attention. All he could think about as he prepared the brownies was that he wished you were there to help him.

Baking was his comfort but baking with you brought him not only comfort, but a joy he didn't realize he had been missing. It was a feeling he wanted to hold onto forever, but he already felt it fading.

Sighing as he dumped the baking mix into the trash, he checked the clock. It was just after six, not too late to go back to the store. His mind flashed back to the moment he first saw you. When your hands touched and your eyes met. That was the first time he had ever properly felt butterflies.

Grabbing the house keys, he made his way out of the apartment and down the road. He doubted he would find you at the grocery store, but he still held onto the fact there was a chance. Felix told himself this was the last time he would purposefully look for you, though even as he did so, he knew it was just another lie.

'I don't think I'll ever stop looking.'

As you stopped in front of the brownies, you eyed the last two boxes. "I should have bought two." Grabbing the boxes you began to leave before you hesitated.

Looking back at the empty shelf, you sighed before you put one back and headed back to the register. Your eyes naturally scanned the store as you went, before you rolled your eyes at your own actions. 'He's not here, get over it.' Though the disheartened feeling in your chest only grew.

You decided to walk home slowly, taking in the cool evening air before you returned to your smoke-scented apartment. You hadn't gone slow enough however, if you had, you might have been spotted by the blonde boy heading down the path towards the store.

Felix made his way towards the baking aisle, his eyes darting around the store as he became more and more disheartened at no sign of you.

'Of course they wouldn't be here, don't be stupid. Your luck's not that good.' He chastised himself.

Spotting one last box of brownie mix, he smiled to himself as he grabbed it. Had you come back to buy one at all? Did you think of him when you did? Did you maybe look for him like he looked for you?

Not realizing just how right he was, he made his way to the register.

As he placed the box down the cashier smiled, "These sure are popular today."

Felix rose his brow, "What do you mean?"

"Someone was just in here a few minutes ago and bought a single box of these exact brownies, just like you are."

Felix felt his heart thump loudly in his chest. Was it? Could it have been?

Felix rapidly described you to the cashier, desperation in his voice. The cashier just nodded, a bit stunned, "Yeah. You know them?"

Felix felt a rush of panic and excitement bolt through him as his adrenaline rose. "Where did they go? Did they drive? Did they walk, which way did they go?!"

The cashier mumble out the vague direction you headed and Felix bolted for the door, ignoring the call of the cashier that he had forgotten the box of brownies. But Felix didn't care, he was acting on impulse. He would not miss finding you again. Not when he had a chance to see you again.

He ran up the sidewalk where the cashier had pointed, hoping he hadn't remembered wrong. Would he see you in time? Were you already home? Just how long ago was "a few minutes"? Felix started to wonder if he was being crazy, if maybe he was too late. But he let his legs carry him, and as he rounded the corner, his eyes widened as he spotted a head of familiar hair disappearing around the next road.

"Y/n!" He yelled out, hoping you might hear him as he tried to run faster.

You halted as you looked around, swearing you heard your name being called. Did it come from behind you? Turning in curiosity, you looked back around the corner just in time to let out a gasp and drop your box of brownies as someone almost tumbled into you.

Staggering back, the person stumbled to a stop as they reached out their hands as if to steady themselves. Your fear turned to shock and then to elation as you saw Felix's familiar face grinning at you. He was breathing heavily, but his smile was wide.

"Felix!" You called out almost breathless, taken off guard by his appearance. "What- Where did you come from?" You asked with stunned amusement.

Reaching down, Felix picked up the box of brownies and grinned at you. After he let out a few more tired breaths, he explained to you what had happened.

You watched him with bewilderment as he grinned through the story. He had really chased you down just to see you again? Suddenly you didn't feel so crazy for trying to find his apartment complex from memory.

"So you sprinted to catch up with me?" You laughed out, ignoring how your heart was pounding at this knowledge.

Felix smiled shyly as his cheeks turned pink. "Yeah, well, I uh- I really wanted to see you again, and that night I didn't ask for your number." He frowned. "I should have."

You let out a soft groan, "I regretted that too, I actually-" You stopped, still worried that he might think you were weird for searching for his apartment. He just raised his brow and you finished, "I only realized that we hadn't exchange numbers after I had gotten home." You admitted instead.

Felix nodded his head, some relief filling him that you regretted it as well. He eyed the brownie mix before he gave you a soft smile, "I bought some earlier too but I dropped it on the floor."

You rose your brow, "I did too! I mean, I bought some earlier but...I forgot to set a timer and almost burned my apartment down because I fell asleep."

Felix's eyes widened before you both laughed. "So you came back for more...just like me."

You nodded and smiled before looking at his empty hands. "Didn't you say you bought some just now?"

"Oh! I uh, ran out of the store without actually buying them." He smiled sheepishly and you giggled.

Eyeing the brownie mix you met his eyes, "We could share?"

Felix felt a sense of déjà vu before a bright smile crossed his face. "Your place or mine?"

You laughed as you looked back the way he had come from. "I've got a feeling we're a bit closer to my place now."

He chuckled and nodded, "Lead the way."

You had your face in your hands as Felix laughed. Leaning closer he tried to get a look at your face, "You really tried to find my complex from memory?"

You groaned, "I know, it's so weird! I'm so embarrassed."

Felix laughed again, but really his heart was bursting with joy. You really had wanted to see him again, just as much as he wanted to see you. You just tried looking for each other in different places.

He watched as you uncovered your face as you poked at your freshly baked brownie, still avoiding his gaze.

"Don't be embarrassed" Felix said softly as he leaned against the counter, "It's cute."

You slowly peered up at him, and instead of a teasing smile, you were me with a bright, genuine, and adoring smile.

Your heart thumped violently in your chest as you repressed a grin. "Cute?"

He nodded and you let out a sot scoff. "That's definitely better than you thinking I'm crazy."

He chuckled, "If that's crazy, then I'm crazy too. I went to that store about half a dozen times, hoping I'd see you again."

You looked up at him fully, and though his smile was still bright, I appeared more shy.

"You did?"

He nodded softly, "Yeah."

Felix felt butterflies in his stomach as you smiled at this. He could tell you were feeling shy as you remained quiet before taking a bite of your brownie. Following your lead, he ate his as well. Both of you shared pleasant smiles as you enjoyed them.

The joy Felix felt the first time you baked together had returned in full. He knew this time there was no way he'd leave without planning to see you again. Your number was already saved in his phone, under the name that Seungmin had dubbed you 'Brownie Soulmate', maybe a bit bold, but it felt suiting.

Felix's eyes graze over you, before fixing on a small piece of chocolate on the edge of our lip. Another wave of déjà vu hit him.

Standing up straight, he turned towards you, gaining your attention. Slowly he reached out and grazed his thumb over your lips.

You stared at him silently, your heart pounding. He did this the first time too. And just after, you had gotten lost in each others eyes. You kept wondering what might have happened if Seungmin hadn't come in. You thought it was too bold to think he may have kissed you. But now as Felix's eyes moved from your lips to your eyes, with a more intense gaze than before, you started to wonder again.

As Felix started to lean closer, his eyes drifting back to your lips, your wonder turned to elated surprise. And when his lips met yours in a soft kiss, your mind went silent.

Your thoughts were halted as you felt what you could only describe as sparks, no, fireworks.

Was this only the second time you met Felix? Yes. Was it probably crazy that this was happening? Maybe. Did you care? No.

When Felix pulled way, his eyes met yours. He held the silence for a moment before he whispered, "Was that too forward?"

You shook your head, "No."

His lips curled up as his eyes flitted around your face, he gently stroked your cheek before he spoke again. "Then can I do it again?"

You smiled brightly at him before you nodded, "Yes."

This was of course, only the second out of countless kisses you would share in your kitchen, and the few of many brownies you would bake together.

What started as a midnight craving, ended in happily ever after.

xx End xx

A/n: This was the final part to my Stray Kids meet-cute series, I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

As always, Reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated <3 Thank you for reading!

Skz General Taglist: @laylasbunbunny

Series Taglist: @bubblesreplies, @halesandy, @why-am-i-sad, @sourmooonlight, @jaeheekangslover, @seungminsdreamwife, @thesunsfullmoon, @ink-spilled-stars, @jisunglyricist, @marcillfll, @ultimatestayandminoronce, @cheeeseceli, @3rachasninja, @raehawthorne

Part Two Taglist: @jordan1024, @queen-klarissa (<you showed interest in your reblog, hope you don't mind the tag <3)

[carminecarnivale]

Literally no one is talking about this (that I’ve seen anyway) and the episode is old now but I can’t stop thinking about it so I’m making a post anyway.

This is about the scene in Helluva Boss season 2 episode 7 “Mammon’s Magnificent Musical Mid-Season Special” where a young imp and Fizzarolli sign to each other.

TLDR: The signing is wonky and the scene feels unearned.

DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT DEAF AND NOT AN ASL EXPERT. THIS IS JUST MY INTERPRETATION OF THIS SCENE. I DO NOT SPEAK FOR DEAF OR HOH PEOPLES’ OPINIONS.

Right. So, surface level, what do the writers *want* to have the signing mean? What is their desired English sentiment?

Kid: Fizzarolli! I’m a big fan!

Fizz: Come on over here

Kid: I want to be a clown just like you!

Fizz: You can do anything you want to do.

Cool, great. Now, what did they actually sign? DISCLAIMER 2: THERE IS NO WRITTEN FORM OF ASL, ASL CAN BE SORT OF TRANSCRIBED IN ENGLISH BUT IT IS NOT WRITTEN ASL.

Kid: F-CLOWN (name sign, “Fizzarolli”) I BIG FAN.

Fizz: [Gesture to come over]

Kid: CLOWN SAME-AS-YOU.

Fizz: IF/SUPPOSE WANT, CAN-aff WORK.

On the most basic level, this is fine. It more-or-less represents what the writers wanted to be said. But it’s just…not great. It’s so simple compared to what the writers wanted to say. It makes the translation put up on screen look wrong.

The kid makes no indication that they “want” to be a clown, they could very well have been meaning that they currently ARE a clown, maybe even in training. There was no indication of “becoming” or a future signifier. There was a general lack of pronouns making it sound vague. The final sentiment from Fizz is much more grounded than what the writers wanted him to say. “You can do anything!” vs “you could work as a clown if you wanted to.” The difference speaks for itself.

There ARE signs for the sentiment they want to convey!!! They exist!!! LOOK: https://youtu.be/JbfWzc0-R6E?si=FxvbC9l-hvArLPg0

“But wait!” I hear you say. “What if they got the signs first and mistranslated it?”

Since this is an English show for English speakers that must be written in English, no. They wrote the translation first and put mediocre signing in the episode.

Could the sentiment have been gutted for time/animation constraints? Quite possibly! But we’ve seen the kinds of shots the Helluva team can pull off (Striker’s 3/4 turn with the pistol, DHORKs full camera action spin, to name a few) so I don’t doubt they COULD have animated the signing appropriately if they wanted to.

Now, they did have an ASL consultant for this episode (the bare minimum we love to see it, AND on the very last page of credits? wow), his name is Salvador Baltazar. There’s not much out there on him, but he’s primarily an interpreter. There is no way to know what he helped with or how much he dictated the scene and I don’t plan on wildly speculating. It’s great that he’s there, why did he let this signing air the way it did though.

Finally, what’s the purpose of this scene? Why is it here? Why these characters in this situation?

More competent analysts than I have picked apart the woobification of Helluva characters and how, once they’re not a villain anymore, their characterization and morals get completely overhauled to appeal to the “oh he’s so traumatized!” crowd.

I think this scene is a part of that. And it got its desired reaction.

Seeing celebrities interact well with children is already something that would net a character some popularity brownie points. If that child is clearly an “other” and the celebrity does something special to recognize that child? Brownie fucking bakeries.

The purpose of this scene is to show that not all of Fizz’s fans suck, yes, but also to show how kind and nice and thoughtful Fizz is just to hammer home how TragicTM his situation is.

And the fans went wild!!!! Here is a character putting in effort to learn ASL and speak with child fans! Wow he’s so great! He’s so amazing! What Herculean tasks he’s taken upon himself to be so cool! Wow! (Not everyone says it like that, but that was the general vibe of the Helluva tag following the episode’s release).

It got fans speculating; “I wonder if this ties into his Tragic BackstoryTM!” We’ll probably never know because Fizz’s fluency in ASL, his role in the Deaf community, is not something the writers care about exploring. They didn’t include a scene with ASL because they wanted to have a deaf character, they included it to make Fizz look good.

Something a lot of people have brought up about this kid—and rightfully so—is their age. What’s this 9 year old doing at the blow-out clown sex appeal concert? How did they get into the VIP section? Couldn’t you contrast the possessive critic guy with another adult who isn’t gross? Wouldn’t it make more sense if this character was an ADULT at the ADULT SHOW?

Yes! Yes it would! But would an adult signer garner half as many pity points as a young child with stars in their eyes? No. I doubt it would.

This scene is not here to show respect for deaf people. Just like the show doesn’t respect deaf people. I ask you to check out the captions for season 2 episode 6. Go on.

Because you know what you’ll find?

A bunch of loud, keysmashing inanity, that ignores describing what’s being said in favour of making queef jokes. These are not functional captions. For a show that prides itself on being just as professional as what you can find aired on TV or streaming, this is laughably bad. This is YouTube 2013 gaming jump scare compilations bad. And those captions are Still There DESPITE people pointing out that they’re not functional.

From a studio that’s fine with sabotaging their own captions I really shouldn’t be surprised with their treatment of ASL as sloppy, basic, and only really there for pandering.

Jesus Christ, do better.