grocery basket

I am really really emotionally fragile about the idea of Harry just perusing the aisles at his local grocery store, little basket in hand, gently picking up a carton of organic farm fresh eggs… reaching for some milk and checking the expiration date…. standing in front of an assortment of green vegetables deciding whether he wants kale or brussel sprouts for dinner….. it’s beautifully mundane but I bet he looks like an angel doing it and I’m in pain

anonymous asked:

They go through fertility problems before finally getting a pregnancy that sticks, can we have the story of when they discover that Yuuri's pregnant with Irina? (Have you done this one already I haven't seen it, sorry if you have, love your stories!)

Whispers I’ve been waiting for this ask.

So as mentioned before, Yuuri retires from skating at twenty-eight and begins coaching and choreographing with Viktor. Because their desire to have children is a big part of the reason why Yuuri retired, they start trying to have a child right away. This would probably be late March, after Worlds. By early May, one of Yuuri’s pregnancy tests comes back positive. 

Unfortunately, at Yuuri’s first ultrasound, they can’t find a heartbeat. (I wrote a long-ass scene to do with this but then I pretty much realized that it was full of medical gibberish and crying and probably very boring, so I left that out) 

The miscarriage happens in June–and it takes awhile before Yuuri’s hormones are back to normal, in part due to stress. This is a great contributing factor to their conception problems. 

In December, Yuuri is almost sure he’s pregnant. For Viktor’s birthday, one of Viktor’s gifts is a gift-wrapped pregnancy test. 

“Have you taken it?” Viktor asks, and he’s holding it in shaking hands.

“Not yet,” says Yuuri. “I was thinking we could–it would be a nice gift, if we found out together.”

Then it comes out negative. And Yuuri cries.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri sobs into his pillow on their bed, curled up into a little ball with Viktor trying to wrap as much of himself around him as possible. “I ruined your birthday. It was a stupid idea, I should have just taken it by myself and not disappointed you. I’m sorry.”

“I thought it was a lovely gesture,” Viktor whispers against his shoulder blade. “I love you, you know.”

“I ruined your birthday,” Yuuri sniffs again. 

“The night isn’t over, yet,” Viktor tells him.

They go out and get pretty extravagantly drunk. It’s probably not the wisest course of action, but it’s better than sitting at home, staring at the four walls and crying. 

In February, Yuuri sits Viktor down and says, “Maybe we should take a break. Just for a little while.”

Viktor closes his eyes, sighs, and nods. Because he loves Yuuri, and he knows how tired they both are.

(But a little voice in the back of his mind is saying Lilia and Yakov said they were taking a break, too. And that break lasted twenty years. And then it was too late.)

They go out for White Day, which they enjoy celebrating despite not living in Japan at the moment, and when they go to bed after a nice dinner and some dancing, Yuuri realizes that some sort of…pressure has been lifted.

“That was fun,” Yuuri whispers to Viktor afterwards, head on his chest and palm against his belly.

“Mmm, one can only hope,” Viktor murmurs back, and laughs into Yuuri’s hair. “Isn’t sex supposed to be fun?”

“It hasn’t been, though,” Yuuri whispers. “Not for awhile.”

Viktor, almost contemplative, brushes Yuuri’s hair behind his ear and kisses his forehead. “Maybe we’ve been putting too much pressure on ourselves,” he says, and reaches over to turn out the bedside light.

A month and some change later, Yuuri is standing in at store with his phone out, staring at his grocery list. He accidentally flips to his calendar app, where he’s been keeping careful track of all his various cycles, and realizes something.

He counts backwards six times, grocery basket forgotten next to him in the aisle. Someone actually taps his shoulder to ask if he’s alright, because the look on his face must be similar to that of someone who’s seen a ghost.

“I’m fine, thanks,” he mumbles vaguely, and all but runs to the family planning aisle. 

“Yuuri?” Viktor asks, when he comes in the door without so much as a hello. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Yuuri calls. “I just–I need to go to the bathroom! Sorry!” He drops all his other purchases on the island counter and books it to the bathroom, more or less slamming the door behind him. He hears Makkachin whimper at the door for him. 

“Oh, that’s…that’s fine.” He hears Viktor going through the bags in the kitchen. “Did you get onions?”

Yuuri doesn’t really answer, since he’s so busy peeing into a cup–Viktor’s drinking cup, unfortunately. He dips every test he bought–eight tests of four different brands, because he is Viktor Nikiforov’s husband and being over-the-top is kind of the Nikiforov MO, also because he is not fucking around–and lines them up neatly on the counter, then tries not to hyperventilate as he sits on the edge of the bathtub and waits for the tests to develop. 

Viktor knocks on the door. “Kitten? You forgot beets. And half the other things on the list. I’m not complaining, just–is everything okay?”

“Um–just–just give me a minute!” One of the tests is starting to fade in–he knocks two others onto the floor in his hurry to grab it.

One pink line. His heart drops, and he drops with it–sinking onto the floor.

“Yuuri? Are you sick?” Viktor jiggles the doorknob. “Sweetheart? Can you talk to me?”

Yuuri, still vibrating with adrenaline, leans over and unlocks the bathroom door. “You can come in,” he murmurs, not even bothering to hide the despondency in his voice.

Viktor nudges the door open gently, and Yuuri can tell that he knows what’s happened the moment he sees Yuuri sitting on the bathroom floor surrounded by pregnancy tests.

“Oh, Kitten,” Viktor murmurs, hunkering down on the floor with him.

“I’m late,” Yuuri tells him, sniffing. “So I thought–I don’t know, I shouldn’t have even–but I thought maybe…”

Viktor sighs, and gathers the tests that fell on the floor–a pair of expensive ones, with the digital display. He glances at them and clicks his tongue, then does a double take. And a triple take.

“Yuuri,” he says carefully. “Did you look at all of them?”

“No,” Yuuri sniffs, swiping the tears of his cheeks somewhat fiercely. “I didn’t want to–to see all of them say negative.”

“Yuuri.” Viktor sets the two digital tests in front of him, and then reaches up to the counter to retrieve the other five. He lines them all up in a careful line.

Pregnant. Blue plus sign. Blue plus sign. The word YES–

“Oh my God,” Yuuri says, searching through them. “Oh my God. Viktor.”

“Where’s the negative one?” Viktor asks, eyes roving frantically along the floor. 

“Here.” Yuuri hands it to him, shaking now for a totally different reason.

Viktor holds it close to his face, and if Yuuri didn’t already know that that man loved him he would have at that moment–you have to love someone to willingly put something with their pee on it that close to your face.

“Look, look.” Viktor holds it out to him, and points to the spot where there might be a very, very faint pink line. “It’s early yet. It’s faint, but it’s there. They’re all positive. Eight positives. Yuuri. Yuuri.”

“Oh my God.” Yuuri presses his face into his hands. “Oh my God. Viktor, oh my God.”

“I know!” Viktor brushes his hair back, kisses the side of his head. “I know! Yuuri, oh baby, please don’t cry. Shh, don’t cry.”

“I’m crying because I’m happy!” Yuuri wails, feeling ridiculous with tears streaming down his face, a grown man huddled on a bathroom floor just sobbing his eyes out.

Come to think, this might be Yuuri’s first happy bathroom cry.

“We’re going to have a baby,” Viktor coos to him, head resting on his shoulder.

Yuuri wrings a hand, hiccuping. “What if I–”

“Don’t,” Viktor says. “Don’t think about that. Remember what the doctor said? Most people go on to have perfectly normal pregnancies after a miscarriage.”

“But I’ve been having so much trouble–”

“That was stress. And hormones. And maybe other things, but it doesn’t matter now because you are. You are pregnant. There are eight tests here telling me that you’re going to have my baby–and I have complete faith that they’re right.”

Yuuri stares at him, eye still swimming in tears. He sways forward until their foreheads are pressed together, and grabs Viktor’s hand to push it up underneath his shirt, pressed warm against his belly. 

“Who should we tell?” he murmurs.

“Let’s keep it to ourselves, for now,” Viktor whispers back. “You know me, Yuuri. I’m Russian. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone until your water broke.”

Yuuri, who a year ago thought Russian pregnancy superstitions were pretty extreme, can’t disagree with him. 

When Yuuri announces to his and Viktor’s students and he won’t be skating for awhile, the look Lilia gives him across the rink is disturbing levels of all-knowing, but Yuuri figures that it doesn’t really jinx anything if the person figures it out themselves–and has as-yet undiscovered superpowers aiding them.

“I think Lilia just smiled at me,” he whispers to Viktor as he leans against the boards, watching their students warm up.

“Pregnancy brain,” Viktor tells him gravely, but there’s a joviality to his voice that’s hard to miss. 

Were You Try to Piss Me Off?

Pairing:  Dom!Sam x Sub!Reader (Female)

Summary:   Sam and the Reader have been dancing around a kink they both share, so the reader pisses him off to see that side of him again.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Dirty talk, Language (probably say the f word like 200 times.) LOTS OF SMUT, OH MY CHUCK! Like a dom/sub relationship, fingering, oral (male receiving), sex, Angry!Sam. LIKE THIS IS SO DIRTY LOOK AWAY.

A/N: This is soooooo dirty. I was given a prompt and I don’t even know where I went with it. I’m so sorry. ANYWAY, this is for @kas-not-cas 2.5K Dialogue Challenge, and my prompt was: “Oh so you think I’m cute when I get angry? Well, get ready because I’m about to get gorgeous!” 

A/N 2: ALSO BIG BIG BIG SHOUT OUT TO MY BETA @highonpastries without her encouragement I honestly would never have posted this work of trash, so make sure you send her love!

(GIFs are not mine!)

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Three Questions

Prompt: What was it like to love him? What was it like to be loved in return? What was it like to lose him?

Pairing: Lin x reader

Warning(s): Angst, cussing, and mentions of sex (the closest I’ll ever do to a Lin smut, tbh).

A/n: Oh boy, here we are at Day 3 of the write-a-thon). This was the prompt (and the AU one too) that I was looking forward to the most and made me decide to participate. Rather than a book, I decided to choose my favorite poem of all time (which is also what my blog is named after) by Lang Leav. I adapted the poem into a story. I hope you guys enjoy!


What was it like to love him? Asked Gratitude.

You sigh when you spot a figure slouched over a desk, their soft snores disturbing the silence of the library. It was a common sight to see a student asleep at the library, regardless of what day of the week it was. There were always going to be students cramming for a test or starting an assignment due the next day that would fall asleep from exhaustion. Upon closer inspection, you realize he wasn’t a student – his face was too mature and clothes too nice to be a fellow peer.

However, like the old saying goes: you don’t have to go home, you just can’t stay here. The library was closing in five minutes and after a full day of classes before coming straight to work, you were ready to go home and relax.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt, but the library is closing soon,” you say, gently shaking the sleeping man’s shoulder.

He groans and brushes away your hand before going back to sleep.

You scoff and try again. “Please don’t make me call campus security on you, sir.”

At the mention of the authorities, he groans but lifts his head from the book he was resting his head on. He wipes the drool from the corner of his lips and blinks up owlishly at you. “What time is it?” he murmurs.

Your breath catches at his voice, low and gravelly with sleep. You were always a sucker for attractive voices, and this stranger just happened to have the kind you loved the most.

“It’s almost 3 A.M.,” you say, watching as his eyes grow wide, “the library is closing now.”

He jumps up from his seat and stuffs his notebook and laptop into his backpack. “I’m so sorry, I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“No, it’s alright, it happens all the time,” you assure him.

He sighs in relief and picks up the book on the table, which to your surprise, had an interesting topic that was very dear to your heart.

“A book about the first treasury secretary?” you muse, “Either you’re a history major or have a very weird taste in books.”

He grins. “I guess I’m the latter.”

You snort at his answer and watch as he heads for the exit after wishing you a good night.


To your surprise, he was back the next day. You were pushing a cart of books, returning them to their respective spots, when you see him huddled in an alcove. This time, more books about Alexander Hamilton were accompanied with books about James Madison and Thomas Jefferson.

“The Southern Democratic-Republicans?” you laugh, “you do know that they didn’t get along with Hamilton, right?”

His head jerks up from his notebook on his lap, eyeing you intensely. “I do. The question is, how do you know?”

You try not to squirm under his gaze. “I’m a History major with a focus in American History.”

A smile slowly spreads across his face. “Well, what are the odds,” he laughs, the sound making your stomach flutter, “mind if I bother you with a few questions?”

You clutch the handle of the cart tightly, feeling nervous and excited. “Only if you tell me what’s it for.”

His smile gets bigger. “I’m writing a musical about Alexander Hamilton.”

You push the cart aside. “I’m in.”

He chuckles and scoots over, patting the empty space next to him. You step around his books and take the spot.

“My name is Lin-Manuel, but you can call me Lin,” he says warmly, sticking his hand out for you to shake.

You take his hand, trying not to shake from his proximity and the tingling sensation of desire that you felt for him. You were always the type that fell too easily and too fast, a recipe for disaster, but the sincerity and friendliness that you saw in his eyes made you believe that maybe, this time would be different.

“My name is Y/N. It’s lovely to meet you, Lin.”

It was like being exhumed. And brought to life in a flash of brilliance.


What was it like to be loved in return? Asked Joy.

It was during one of your writing sessions with Lin, weeks after meeting, that he first kissed you.

You were explaining to him Alexander’s childhood struggles, the challenges that he endured as he rose his way to the top, and the bizarre parallel of his life to Aaron Burr’s.  When he was still silent after you finished, you became worried. Was it too much? Did he need you to clarify a specific part?

Your fears melted away once you saw the tender look on his face.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, brushing away a stray hair that escaped from your bun. Without another word, he leaned forward and captured your lips for a kiss. You whimpered, and it spurred him on, his hands cupping your head to kiss you deeper.

Your heart did cartwheels, happy that he felt the same way towards you. The lingering stares, how his hands would purposely brush against yours when you both looked over a book, and how he’d rest his arms on your shoulders and lean towards you when you’d talk… It was all because he adored you too.

Your first kiss with Lin awakened something delicious – a dangerous spark that made your body hum in excitement.

From then on, Lin would wine and dine you in the late hours of the night, conversations about Alexander Hamilton long forgotten. You shared your dreams, your struggles, stories about your childhood with each other.

The spark ignited a flame, an even more hazardous burn that made your heart and soul feel alive.

During the nights where he felt adventurous, he’d fuck you hard against the bookshelves, whispering dirty words in your ears as he covered your mouth with his hands to muffle your moans. Most of the time, however, he’d take his time loving you in a bed, staring deep into your eyes as he thrust into you.

You press your cheek against his damp chest, relishing in the afterglow of sex.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words feeling so natural, so true.

Lin’s hand slides down to rest on the curve of your back and presses you closer to him.

“I love you too.”

It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.


What was it like to lose him? Asked Sorrow.

It was a rare weekend where you didn’t spend time with Lin, so you decided to go grocery shopping – a task that you haven’t had time for since your whirlwind romance began.

You were quietly humming the tune to one of Lin’s songs as you pondered over which fruit you wanted to buy: oranges or apples?

“Honey, didn’t I tell you to take it easy? Stop lifting heavy things, you know it’s not good for the baby.”

Your lips quirk up in a smile at the conversation, finding it adorable how affectionate the husband was to his wife. For a brief second, you let yourself daydream, imagining a baby girl that had Lin’s curious eyes and your hair or a boy that had his nose and your penchant for learning.

“Lin, I’m the one carrying the baby. Don’t you think I know what’s good and not good for him?”


“I know but – “

There was no mistaking it.

That was his voice.  

You whirl around, dropping your basket of groceries when you see the scene before you.

Lin was standing next to his obviously pregnant wife, softly reprimanding her as she lifted a watermelon from the display.

Lin had a wife… and a baby on the way.

Your world came crashing down on you.

Lately, you’ve had a strange feeling in your gut, as if something big was looming over the horizon, whenever you spent time with Lin. You chalked it off and blamed it on your inexperience, your insecurity, and fear of loving someone so much for the first time in your life.

But now it all made sense.

He’d insist on spending nights in hotel rooms or even your own apartment, claiming that his apartment was too small and cluttered, failing to mention the fact that he had another woman waiting for him in his bed. He’d always spend time with you late at night until early dawn (you thought it was sweet that he worked around your schedule), never during the day. But truthfully, it was the perfect time where he could escape from his pregnant wife. You thought that his habit of touching his ring finger with his thumb was endearing – a quirky trait that made Lin so cute and special – but now you realize it was because the weight of his wedding ring was no longer there.

You felt sick.

You stagger backward, hitting the fruit display, causing a heap of apples to tumble to the ground.

A single apple rolled towards them, stopping their conversation, and Lin looks up to see the cause of the runaway fruit.

You stood there, frozen, as a flash of recognition danced across his eyes.

It really was him.

To your horror, he didn’t acknowledge you. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his wife and leads her further into the grocery store, leaving you behind without a second glance.

His stories, laughter, and declarations of love were all lies.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces.

You were a fool.

It was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me – said all at once.

of grocery happenings and broken glass - sans x reader/self insert

HEY! Since it’s fanfic friday, can you do one with UT Sans and the “enemies to lovers” trope? it can just be a few scenes where the relationship changes. u dont have to ofc but idk i really like those kinds of stories :‘0c

Summary: You’re an enigma wrapped in a mystery, and he’ll do anything literally) to get you to solve yourself. (Or the obligatory fic wherein sans goes from wanting to dunk you to wanting to kiss you)

Notes: AAAAAAAA?????? AAAAAA. Mcfrickin. Love this trope. Bless u. blessed prompt. i had too much fun writing this help.

Writer: Mod Chrissu

The first time he meets you, it’s weird as hell to him.

Firstly, you are probably the best looking human he’s ever laid eyes on. Your hands are balled up and pushing into your hips, your head craned to look up with a sneer at somebody much taller than you.

When he sees who it is, the attraction that he felt immediately was replaced with intense anger.

His brother is holding a grocery basket, one that he knows isn’t his because it’s completely barren of any type of pasta or sauce. His grin is a little shaky, as if he’s apologetic, but also scared. There’s a few food items on the floor that are lying abandoned, so he assumes that the basket must have overturned in some way and Papyrus went to help you. So why did your expression hold so much fury?

He mosies on over, hands stuffed in his pockets. He’s gonna start out calm and cordial, and hopefully this human won’t give him a reason to dunk them into next Saturday. “hiya. what’s up?” He greets, keeping his tone relaxed and chipper, hoping that this goes well.

“SANS!” The way his brother says his name, almost in relief, makes his opinion of the human drop even further. “HELLO, BROTHER!”

You turn to face Sans, your face portraying annoyance. If it wasn’t for the fact that you looked like you had a problem with his bro, Sans might have considered using a sly pickup line. But no, you open your mouth and erase that possibility. “Oh, he’s with you?” You imply, pointing to the taller skeleton, who’s fidgeting nervously.

His grin turns a little steely. He doesn’t like to see Paps so scared. “yeah. s’there a problem with that?”

“Maybe. Anyways, listen here, dudebro.” Attention aimed at Papyrus again, mouth twisting into a scowl. “I got this. I don’t need somebody swooping in and saving me.” You rip the basket away from Papyrus and bend down to pick up the food on the floor, eyes widening when you see the damage done. “Damn it, the cans are dented!”

“listen buddy, i’m sure you’re just misunderstanding–” His patience is wearing very thin but an agitated sigh cuts him off.

“Look, buddy, I already had to walk all the way here because my piece of shit car broke down, I don’t need some random guy telling me off.” Your body language radiates don’t fuck with me today, and he doesn’t really understand why. “I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood.” Food retrieved from the ground and in the basket, you straighten up and give both he and Papyrus a pointed glare. “Now if you’ll excuse me, which I don’t really care if you do or don’t, I have to replace these cans.”

Without letting him speak, you turn on a heel and stomp out of the aisle, leaving him in dumbfounded silence. What the hell was your problem?

The next time he sees you, it’s without you knowing.

It’s been a few days since what happened in the grocery store, and frankly he’d be fine with never seeing your face again. Somebody so filled with negativity and hatred for others for no reason…He doesn’t like people like that. He’s glad he’ll never see you again.

(Except he does.)

He hears a scream before he sees the blur of a person being tossed out onto the sidewalk a few houses down from where he’s standing. He almost runs over to help until another human shows up. They step out onto the steps angrily, if their rigid posture and antagonistic stance is any factor.

“Get the fuck out, you waste of space. Don’t even know why I bothered with you. You’re nothing but shit.” They spit out.

“Nonono, no please, I’ll be better, don’t do this please–” The voice is so full of fear and regret, and it’s so familiar. He knows that voice. It stirs a forgotten anger in his chest, and finally he registers that it’s you, the human from the grocery store.

Your clothes are ripped in places, there’s bruises all over your arms, the shirt you have on is riding up and showing off even more bruises on your back and sides. Your knees are scuffed from your fall, and you’re barely keeping your torso up off the ground. Your form is shaking, soft sobs emitting from your mouth. What a moment to be observing you. To avoid being seen, he ducks behind a nearby trashcan.

“You were lucky, you had me to love you! I’m probably the only person on this Earth left that actually gives a fuck about you! None of your friends or your family actually care, they’re faking it!” The human on the steps barks, and he notices a glint from their hand. They throw it in your direction, and the bottle shatters on the ground a few feet away from you, pieces scattering all over the pavement. “Get the hell out of here, you damn slut!”

The human on the steps goes back into the house and throws out a bag of clothes before slamming the door. Sans turns away from the scene, expression a mixture of shock and confusion. He has no idea what to think. Obviously, the dude that just kicked you out is an asshat, but did you deserve it? He’s not the kind of guy to wish pain or suffering on anybody else, so no, he supposes you don’t. He goes to pick himself up off the ground.

Except you pass by. You notice him there. It’s silent for one scarily long moment.

“How much of that did you see?” You inquire roughly, voice cracked from crying. A pang of pity ripples through his SOUL.

“…all of it.”

Your face is unreadable, you just grip the bag you have a little harder. It’s plastic, so your fingers sink into the material like clay. “…Fuck off.”

He looks up at you in surprise. “what?”

“I said fuck off.” You hiss, your glare piercing. “Want to know why I got kicked out? One of the cans I brought home from the store, that your idiot brother made me drop? It was dented. So fuck you, fuck your brother, fuck everything.” You grit your teeth and march off, pulling the bag over your shoulder.

He scrambles up and after you, though a tiny inner voice questions his motives. What is he gonna do? You obviously don’t want to see him, your little proclamation proved so, so why is he chasing you? He squashes down the thought, unsure if he wants to know why.

“look, kid, i’m sorry.” He skids in front of them, chest heaving with the extra effort he put into catching up with them. “i don’t understand your attitude, or why you act the way you do, but acting that way isn’t going to change anything.”

“You know nothing about me, why the hell are you trying to do here?” You snap, dropping your bag. Despite being bloody and scratched and obviously injured, you still stand as if you’re super girl about to face off with her greatest enemy yet. 

“i have no idea. i don’t really know.” He almost whispers it, because he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, or why. “but i don’t want to be the reason you hate the world so much. at least let me help you find a place to stay for a bit.”

Your mouth twists, and a range of emotions flip through your face: confusion, anger, sorrow, and finally it stops on that flat mask you had on. “..Okay, fine.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief.

He finds you a hotel to stay in, and while he wouldn’t usually pay for a stranger’s stay, he does for you. Seeing the person you had to deal with, the way they treated you…Something told him that wasn’t the only time they treated you badly. That’s a scary situation to think about, so of course you would be bitter and angry. He pays for a week, hoping it’s enough time for you to figure out what you need to do or for you to get a job.

He escorts you to your room, and it’s quiet but it isn’t uncomfortable. You’ve been through a lot, he guesses, so talking about it right now would be a little much. Instead, as you both reach your room, he asks to come in for a moment.

Puzzled, you agree, and let him in. It’s a small room, with a dresser pushed against the wall adjacent to the doorway, a lamp in the corner, and a bed opposite the dresser. Another door is in the far corner, which Sans assumes is the bathroom. There’s a table beside the bed, and on it is a pad with paper and a pen.

He picks them both off and scrawls his name and number on it, ripping off the page and giving it to you. “the dude that kicked you out looks like another bad time waiting to happen, so if he shows up here, don’t be afraid to call me, ok?” 

The hand that takes the paper is a little shaky. Your eyes skim over the words written, and the corner of your mouth quirks. “’Sans’? Like the font?”

He shrugs. “i get that a lot. anyways, i need to get back, paps is worried probably.” He points to the paper in your hand, shooting you a reassuring smile. “remember, dude’s a bad time. call me if he comes back. or call if you need help in general. seeya.”

With a blip, he’s gone, and you stare at the space (now replaced with air) he was just in. The most dumbfounded look creases your brow.

“…What the fuck did he just do?!”

Funnily enough, after the incident, he cannot stop thinking about you. He passes the place you used to live every day, and when he does he wonders if you’re okay. He’d check on you, but he did say that if you had a problem to call him. So he leaves the situation be, letting it be in your ballpark. If you need him there, you’ll call.

It’s been a long day, so he decides to go to Grillby’s for some ketchup and conversation. It’s been a while, and he hasn’t visited the surface expansion of Grillby’s very much, so he should fix that.

He teleports just outside the entrance and strolls in to a chorus of greeting from the regulars. Doggo, Greater Dog, and Lesser Dog are wrapped up in a game of poker, with Dogamy and Dogaressa watching on the side and holding each other. There’s a couple humans hanging around, along with a few monsters that didn’t usually frequent the establishment underground milling about. He waddles to the bar and hops into a bar stool, leaning on the counter and sighing, eyes shut.

“heya grillbz, what’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

A snort is his answer, but it sounds nothing like his favorite fire elemental.

He opens up an eye to see you, clad in a button up dress shirt with black slacks, an apron tied around your neck and waist. You look nothing like you did that night, which relieves him so much. There’s a hit of yellow and purple on your hands from the bruises you sustained, he notices, as you clean out a glass with a towel. Your nose is scrunched up from the bad joke he made, a small smile lighting up your face and causing a soft hue of blue to blossom on his face. 

“kid? that’s you?” He asks, opening his eyes fully, now very alert. 

“’Kid’ is not my name, but yeah, it’s me.” You also throw in your name, since you’ve neglected to tell him. Wow, your demeanor has changed completely since the grocery store fiasco, and it’s such a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to see you smile, even if it is a smug smirk.

“well damn, you clean up nice. how ya been doin’? i’m assumin’ the guy hasn’t been bothering you?” At the mention of him you tense, which leads him to backpedal, “wait, shit, sorry–”

“It’s fine! It’s fine.” You cut him off, the smirk having been wiped off your face and replaced with a small frown. “They uh, haven’t been bothering me. Haven’t heard a word from them since what happened.”

He relaxes at this. “good, good.” He breathes, slumping against the counter again. 

“…What can I get ya, Sans?” You ask, setting down the glass you were cleaning and propping your arm against the bar, quirking a brow at him. It’s sassy as hell and it isn’t helping that you’re gorgeous.

“your number.” He realizes what he said in the middle of saying it and slams his face into his palm as you laugh. “…i am so sorry. i’m used to crackin’ jokes like this with grillby.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. What do you really want, though?”

Bless you and your nerves of steel. “uh, bottle of ketchup.”

An incredulous look crosses your face, but you grab one and slide it to him anyways. He twists off the cap and tips it back, almost spitting it out with laughter when you choke.

“Sans, the fuck?!” You stammer, and he wishes he could take a picture of your face because it’s so priceless. Maybe your nerves aren’t as solid as he thought.

If somebody told him six months ago that he’d fall head over heels in love with a human, and a human that initially hated his innocent soul of a brother no less, he’d laugh and call them crazy.

Thinking about it now, it’s not as crazy as it seemed. 

Because with every laugh and smile he gets from you, his SOUL thuds a little more forcefully in his chest, his face a touch blue-r, and he finds himself trying so hard to get them out of you that he doesn’t notice how deep he’s getting into this.

He doesn’t notice until his brother does.

“goin’ to grillby’s, want me to bring you back somethin’ paps?” He asks, sticking his head into the kitchen. Papyrus isn’t as oblivious as everyone believes him to be, and he proves it now as he smiles knowingly at his older brother, which only causes said brother to raise a brow bone in silent question.

“BROTHER, YOU SEEM TO BE GOING TO GRILLBY’S A LOT IN THESE PAST FEW MONTHS.” Papyrus stops stirring the pot of noodles he’s attending to on the stove to look at his brother. He notices, but it’s not like Sans makes an effort to hide it. He can see it in the way that he smiles sometimes when he gets a text from you, or how excited he is when he knows he’s about to see you.

He know what Sans looks like when he’s obsessed about something, or worried, or determined. Papyrus thought he’d seen it all. You’ve brought out a different side of him that Papyrus loves to see, because he look so happy nowadays.

“yeah, so? i used to go everyday when we were underground.”

“SANS, DEAR BROTHER, NOTHING EVADES THE WATCHFUL EYE OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” He exclaims triumphantly, pulling out his best smile. “…I am happy for you, Sans. I hope you bring them by soon to introduce them to me, because I would like to thank the person who has given you so much joy.”

It’s a rarity when Papyrus speaks in a regular volume of voice, and it shocks Sans to his core. “whaddya mean, pap?”

Papyrus laughs, turning back to his pot. “OH BROTHER, DON’T TELL ME YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED!”

“im-pasta-ble, i notice everything.” Sans’ smile turns wicked as Papyrus screeches out a warning to him and then he blips out of the way of the taller’s wooden ladle being thrown at him.

It’s become a habit, for him to watch you as you work. The way you move around the tables at the restaurant, the polite smile you give to the customers and the drastically different smirk you send him when he tosses out a pun, the lingering touch between you two when you give him a ketchup bottle. 

It kills him, in a way, because he knows what he’s feeling. He knows very well what this feeling is. His love life isn’t a very active one, but he does remember a few years back when he used to have a crush on Toriel, and this feels like that except new. It’s no longer a nice thought, but a fire that consumes his thoughts whenever he sees you. It’s not the heat of the blush on his face, it’s the ghostly imprint that your fingers leave on his. His SOUL doesn’t flutter, it beats purposefully. He knows what this is.

However, it’s not him that says or does anything about it.

As your shift comes to a close and he prepares to leave, you stop him. The place is almost empty, just a couple people wrapping up their meals or nursing their last drink. You look nervous, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip.

“what’s up?” He asks, and he almost jumps when you set a hand on ones of his, the one still on the counter top.

“Uh…There uh– There must be something wrong with my eyes, be-because uh–” You clear your throat, and he’s never seen your face go so red, wow. “Because I can’t take them off you?…”

He pauses for a moment before the statement processes through his head and his face goes full cerulean. “uuuuuuhh….”

“What…What I’m trying to say– Is it hot in here? Jeeze.” You tug at your collar, smiling sheepishly. “But uh. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to, I dunno, go see a movie? Or go somewhere for coffee? I’m sorry, I just really, really like you and I couldn’t be quiet about it anymore–”

You stop when you notice his expression. The poor skeleton’s face is completely blue, and his pupils have morphed into tiny hearts. He grabs your hand gently, and before he can chicken out he sputters out a reply.

“yes, hell yes. i’ll uh, i’ll text you later?”

It’s take a moment to sink in but when it does you smile so wide that it triggers his own. “Yeah! That’s cool! I’ll uh, be waiting? Yeah.”

Reluctantly he lets go of your hand and waves with his other, before disappearing and reappearing at the entrance of the inside of his home. 

You asked him out. You asked him out. He’s so giddy, he struts farther into the house and laughs, and it’s such a happy sound. He’s never heard such a sound come out of his body.

“YOU SOUND PLEASED.” Papyrus notes from his spot on the couch in the living room, wherein he’s doing some sort of human exercise program. Sans just beams in reply, hopping up the stairs two at a time to get to his room. “WHAT’S HAPPENED?”

Papyrus knows. He just wants to hear Sans say it.

“bringing them over later this week. you’ll see.”

The Adventures of Todd and Granny

(Alternatively: “I Saw Granny Ethel with the Devil”)

Part I | Part II

Grocery Store

Todd the demon is a he, now, if only because Granny Ethel insists upon using copious ‘Dear boy, keep trying and ‘Atta boy!’ critiques to varying degrees depending on how well his needlework, crochet, and knitting attempts progress.

Gender isn’t a concept the demon concerned himself with before. If Todd had been, say, a girl named Tonya, he supposes he’d be a she instead. If Todd had been gender-neutral and properly communicated with his grandmother, he supposes she would call him they or child, appropriately. Granny Ethel isn’t one to discriminate. Even when she properly wears her glasses and sees his obviously un-Todd-like appearance, only shaking her head and smiling with a good-natured “kids these days” on her lips. But he wouldn’t mind if Granny Ethel called him boy, girl, thing, or abomination, so long as she stayed happy.

Granny Ethel is a patient woman. Todd simply can’t understand why or how she’d become the black sheep of her family, especially after a full week of living with her hospitality. Through the constant baked goods and the modest but satisfying three-meals-a-day; the careful (oh-so-careful) dusting of trinkets and bookshelves with tiny cloths and feather dusters not fit for large claws, which he insists upon doing while she looks on in worry before brewing more coffee; the midday television re-run breaks spent sealing cash donations into envelopes and discussing human rights issues instead of watching old shows, he simply can’t think of her as anything but a paragon of her kind.

It’s a problem with them, he concludes. Not her.

It isn’t a decision he makes lightly.

Spending such a brief time with her, he’s already learned so much more about humans than he ever would have cared to know, beyond perceiving them as vessels or a means to an end. There is much suffering in the world—sometimes even more than that in Hell—but there is also kindness.

He’s known that, but he witnesses it first hand during their first trip outside of Granny Ethel’s home.

“Come, now, Todd, we have much shopping to do. I’m afraid my pantry isn’t stocked appropriately for the upcoming food donation drive and I can’t just skip it this month.”

Todd remembers addressing an envelope to the local food bank—most people would stop there, figuring their good deed was done.

“I also have to stock up on this week’s groceries. Feel free to buy whatever you want, dear. I can cook anything, you know! At least, I try. I suppose you’d like some snacks, too. But I am so glad you’re here; think of all the bags we can carry between the two of us!”

There is no car in Granny Ethel’s driveway, or a garage to store it. He wonders how they’re going to make it to the grocery store as he waits for her to lock the door behind them, as she hobbles down the two small concrete steps with her cane in hand.

It isn’t until she’s halfway down the sidewalk that he realizes they’re walking. In public.

An old crone in black and a demon at her side, wearing a handmade shawl so lovingly stitched with various, terrifying occult symbols.

He isn’t the only one who sees a problem with this—the neighbor’s dog, a small, bug-eyed thing, yaps indignantly at them from the front lawn as it bounces around the dewy grass at its owner’s feet, soon erupting in warning yowls and howls, before falling silent mid-yip when Todd locks eyes with it. The neighbor—Maurice, if he remembers Granny Ethel’s gossip correctly—stands frozen, watering can dangling limp from his hand as he overwaters the begonias at his feet, mouth hanging open in undignified disbelief.

“Good morning, Maurice!” Granny Ethel calls with unmitigated cheer, and a hint of pride. “Nice morning, isn’t it? Oh! Have you met my wonderful grandson Todd? He finally came to visit! We’re going shopping now. Will you watch my house?”

Maurice simply stares, dumb with shock.

Halfway down the block, another neighbor’s car brakes with a squeal before they make it out of the driveway and they stick their head out of the window to gape.

Shutters crack open. Curtains are shoved aside.

Before Todd knows it, they are the cul-de-sac’s center of attention.

Granny Ethel doesn’t pay it any mind and continues obliviously on, waving to each face in turn as those faces pale, yet hers remains rosy.

“My, such a busy day today. I haven’t seen everyone out like this since the Fourth of July block party. Oh, if you’re still here during summer, Todd, we should definitely take part. Maybe we should start knitting an American flag for the occasion. What do you think?”

He can only nod.

They make it to the grocery store without incident—aside from the broken fire hydrant caused by a distracted driver and the one, single person who ran away screaming, and the handful that crossed themselves, and the one person bold enough to snap a picture with their phone before Todd grabbed it from their hands and threw it while Granny Ethel wasn’t looking, too distracted with how well the city’s roadside flowers were blooming—and Todd, ever the gentledemon, takes a small shopping cart from its line and trails behind Granny Ethel as she consults the list taken from her purse.

As expected, those within the store stop and stare. Even the calming elevator music jolts to a pause.

A young man in an employee vest, who looks high, shoots Todd the demon-horn hand sign and smiles before swaggering away to the frozen food aisle, and the manager meekly approaches them, skirting around a fresh fruit display.

“Ma’am, is there—is there something I can—do you need help?” he asks, sweating from his receding hairline to his neck as he tugs at his collar and straightens his frumpy tie.

“Oh! I’m so glad you asked. I didn’t see any sales circulars by the door—what kind of specials are on right now? Particularly on things like pizzas and cereals and whatever else young men like to eat.” Granny Ethel leans in close to the man, close enough to loudly whisper, “See, my grandson here is a quiet, shy boy despite his appearance, and I don’t think he’d ask me himself, but I bet he’d love to get some junk food to snack on between meals.”

The manager’s eyes widen, blood-shot, as he looks to Todd, who only smiles—which comes off as terrifying, he’s certain, with all the sharp teeth and red eyes involved.

“S-SURE! Junk food. Right. Um—uh, w-well, I think there’s a BOGO—buy one get one free—deal on the frozen pizzas. Uh…most cereals are marked down right now…th-there’s a sale on potato chips…hot dogs…” His voice trails off, too burdened with trembles and fear as he continues to hold Todd’s gaze. “And—you know, I’m sure some other employee can help you, ma’am. I’m not one anymore as of this moment. I QUIT.” That said, he yanks the flimsy plastic nametag from his shirt and runs for the door, followed by half of the shoppers who abandon their carts and drop their baskets, scattering groceries everywhere.

Granny Ethel watches him go, then sighs. “He must have been overworked and stressed. I almost walked out on a job a long time ago for the same reasons, but I needed it. You be careful of corporate America, Todd.”

He takes her words to heart, and he fully agrees.

Shoppers that remain in the grocery mart avoid them at all costs as they meander through the frozen food section, the bread aisle, the junk food corner—and Granny Ethel pays them no mind, filling the cart to the brim with refills of groceries she needs back at home and treats she thinks Todd needs more of in his life. He supposes he does, if she says he does. Far be it from him to contradict her adolescent-savvy wisdom.

Even so, the single shopping cart is far too small for all of the spoils—halfway through the shopping list, he finds them in need of another. It isn’t an issue. Many are left scattered, abandoned, around almost every corner. By the end of the list, both carts are full to the brim, and Granny Ethel is simply beaming.

The checkout lines are deserted—they have their pick. Although only one station is manned by a clerk, and it greatly narrows their choice.

As Todd wheels the two shopping carts to the register, he recognizes the young employee from before, who once again shoots him the demon-horn hand symbol.

“Love your poncho, dude,” Sam (as his nametag reads) comments with a bit of a tired drawl, and there are dark shadows under his eyes as expected from an overworked youth on minimum wage, but he is otherwise energetic, quickly scanning each of the items set on the conveyor belt, and smiling at demon and old woman in turn. “Did the little lady here knit that for you?”

“Crocheted!” Granny Ethel corrects with a grin, preening like a proud parakeet. “It does suit him, doesn’t it? Of course, I would never make something that didn’t suit my dear grandson. He must always be well-dressed.”

“You seem like a really supportive gramma. That’s cool. When I was in my super hardcore death metal phase, mine just dragged me to church every Sunday.” A digital beep accompanies nearly every word as he skillfully rings up each grocery down the line.

“Oh, I would never do that. Mainly because I no longer belong to a church. And also because Todd seems so averse to discussing Bible passages, so I never force him.”

At this, Todd gives a wry smile. He places the final handful of groceries onto the conveyor belt and sidles around Granny to the other side of the checkout, bagging the groceries that have already been scanned. It seems the official bag boy has fled in fright.

“I can imagine. Never one for religion, myself. Oh, and you’re eligible for the senior citizen’s discount, so let me just…” Sam pauses a moment to key in a code on the register and it dings. “Aaand, there. Your total comes out to $204.56. Stocking up for the winter already? It’s only March.”

“Oh, dear, no. Half of this is for the food drive!” Granny Ethel chuckles good-naturedly as she leans her cane against the counter and digs through her small pocketbook and produces a checkbook, then dives back in to search for her favorite pen.

Sam turns to Todd while awaiting payment. “By the way, dude, that costume is killer. I’ve never seen anything so realistic, with the added bonus that you scared the boss away! Totally made my day. My week, even.”

Todd gives a nod, happy to be of service, even if it isn’t a costume. He can’t exactly say it aloud. Perhaps one day he’ll learn how to speak English coherently, but for now nonverbal cues work just fine.

Finally, Granny Ethel finds her pink, plastic jewel-encrusted ballpoint pen and makes out a check to DeVille-Mart, even going so far as to take one of the heavier paper bags for herself, never one to make Todd carry all of the groceries himself. “You have a wonderful day, young man. Thank you.”

“Y’all have a great day, too, Ma’am.” Sam offers a toothy smile, and it seems sincere enough as he sees them off with a lazy wave “Hope to be seeing you shop here again.”

Todd isn’t so sure they’ll ever return once upper management hears about this visit, but it’s nice to know they are accepted by at least one individual.

“Now, Todd, let’s get to the food bank. We have such a long day ahead of us. But there’s a reward at the end of it—I bought ingredients specifically for chocolate turtle brownies!”

If the visit to the food bank is in any way similar to this excursion—and it will be, he decides, as yet another gawking driver’s car slow-collides with the corner vending machine when they pass through the automatic doors—they have a long day ahead of them, indeed.

So, I was reading my recently purchased Ao no Exorcist Volume 16, and happened to come across this little gem at the end of Ch. 69. Apparently, Rin and Shiemi went to the grocery store together after their demon psychology class (a class they take alone, together, teehee), which I imagine to be their last cram school lesson of the day.

My shipper heart can’t help but headcanon that they often walk home together after their demon psychology class (even though all Shiemi needs is a key to get back home) or that they sometimes study together.

Trip to the Market

[BTS] Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fluff | Romance

Summary: He had always dreaded doing the daily errands and chores that his older band mates forced him into. Then he crashed into a rather attractive employee at the local market.

Originally posted by kths

His hands were stuck down the pockets of his lightwashed jeans and his head was turned towards the ground, attempting to avoid the bustling crowds of people surrounding him. Jimin’s hand was occasionally lifted from his pants to pull his mask closer to his face. He sighed quietly under his breath, reaching for the few grocery baskets that remained at the entrance.

There happened to be a few stragglers inside the store, calmly searching for their desired items before waiting in the nonexistent lines at the cashiers. This was typical for him, however, as they usually went on market trips late at night, when there was hardly any chance for them to run into fans at this hour. Jimin reached for his sunglasses and placed them onto his snapback, yawning softly.

Although he had been used to the little hours of sleep because he had spent most of them in the dance studio, practicing in his free time, it didn’t mean that Jimin preferred to be awake to do overdue grocery shopping. He complained about it and had even asked the younger members to do it instead, but all he received was fluffy pillow in the face and a crumpled-up list of what was needed.

Now here he was, standing in the middle of the snacks aisle, deciding between which ramen flavor the others had requested for him to get. Jimin pursed his lips, tossing at least two of each of the three flavors. He glanced back at the list, reading off ‘strawberry pocky’ at the bottom of the list in handwriting that differed from Seokjin. He groaned internally, already knowing where this was leading.

Jimin glared childishly at the package at the top of the shelves, setting the basket down onto the floor. He puffed out his cheeks and stood onto his toes, attempting to reach the damned snack. His fingers just barely scraped the edge of the metal shelf, making groan out loud in annoyance. “Who’s idea was it to put them up there?” Jimin sighed tiredly, his voice sounding whiny and babyish.

“I think you need this more than I do.” He jumps at the sudden voice, making you take a step backwards. You set the step stool in front of him, giving him a polite smile before walking away from him. Jimin glanced at the stool and back at the direction you left with flushed cheeks. He grumbled quietly under his breath, reluctantly grabbing the treats and placing them into the basket.

“This is ridiculous, that girl was cute too…” Jimin pouted as he picked up the basket again, gripping the fin of his cap and lowering it onto his head. As he continued to walk forward, he stopped at the sound of light humming in one of the aisles. Letting his curiosity get the best of him, Jimin peeked into the aisle.

His eyes widened at the sight of you, seeing you turn back and forth between boxes of fruits and vegetables. In your ear, there is one earbud placed into it and the sounds of faint music. “Caught in a lie~” Jimin’s lips curl into a flustered smile as he recognized the lyrics and the rhythm of the song. He continues to watch, often biting down onto his lip when he sees your silly choreography.

Jimin removes the mask, covering his mouth when giggles escape from his lips. He resists the urge to walk up to you and start dancing along. “Aish, why is she so cute?” Jimin mumbles under his breath, stepping backwards when you turn in his direction. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, pulling the earbud out and ducking your head out of embarrassment.

“You’re pretty good, you know?” Jimin starts the conversation, walking closer to you. He smiles sheepishly at you, rubbing the back of his neck to relief himself from the nervousness settling in his stomach. You chuckle airily, shaking your head as your cheek began to take on a rosy hue.

“Just how much of that did you see, exactly?” Unlike the deeper octave you had when you were singing, your voice had become more higher-pitched and lighter. He sighed, scratching behind his ear.

“About I don’t know, since you sang ‘Lie,’ I guess.” Jimin answers, looking back at you with his crescent moon eyes as he grins brightly at you. Even though there had been a smile on your face, you were slowly dying of embarrassment inside. Standing in front of you was Park Jimin, in all of his adorable glory.

You had seen him earlier, already recognizing him from the mask and the snapback. He was an idol, so it was normal that he went grocery shopping like this. You had tried to play it cool, but Jimin had to catch you dancing and singing while stocking up on the produce. Clearing your throat, you motioned for him to follow you to the cashier.

Jimin gazed at you with confusion in his dark eyes before quickly trailing after you with his items in his hands. You went behind the register without another word, keeping your attention on the scanner and the item. It wasn’t that simple when he was leaning over the table with his chin in his hand. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, but when you did, he would sweetly smile at you.

“Seriously though, you were so cute.” Jimin speaks up, trying to get your attention. You look at him with a gaped mouth and even redder cheeks that made him grin even more. Taking a deep breath, you turn away from him, quickly rushing to bag his items before you could faint in front of him and embarrass yourself even further.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening.” You mumbled quietly, handing him all of the bags. He nods his head cutely, reaching up and ruffling your messy ponytail. You pout your lips as he walked away towards the entrance. Sighing, you couldn’t help but let your lips form a giddy smile.

Looking back the table, you see a small white sheet of white paper. You wrap your fingers around the paper, shaking your head in disbelief. “He forgot his receipt.” You mumble, looking over it until you see the black ink from the supposed blank side. Turning it over, your cheeks flush at the message from the infamous Park Jimin.

‘Hey, I was serious about you being cute. We should hang out sometime, maybe have a date, even? Text me soon, kay? xxx-xxxx’

“Niall.” You whispered and at first you didn’t think he heard you, so you slowly wiggled your body closer to him. You nudged your feet between his knees and when you felt his body jerk you knew he was awake. He threw the covers off his body making them land on you as he sat up and rubbed his eyes a bit before turning and looking at you. You couldn’t help but give him a smile as he looked at you with droopy eyes.

“Ya need somethin love?” His voice was horse due to just waking up, he ran his hands through his hair as he let out a yawn as he looked at the clock on the nightstand. “Bloody hell its half past four in da mornin.” You just rolled your eyes as you got up out of bed and walked over to him.

“We could really go for some cookies and peanut butter.” You placed your hands on his cheeks and gave them a squeeze. “We are starving.” He just let out a light laugh as you took your hand away from his face. He placed his hands on your growing tummy and slowly started rubbing circles.

“My girls are hungry?” You just nodded and smiled as he stopped rubbing circles on your belly and reached around you to grab his keys off his nightstand. “Let’s get on da road then, don’t wanna get stuck in da 5am rush hour.” You just laughed as you turned around and headed to the closet to slip on some comfy pants and your shoes.

Soon you and Niall were parked outside the closest grocery store to your house. He was still half asleep but you were wide awake and on the prowl for anything that would satisfy your craving. You were out of the car and headed into the store before Niall could even unbuckle himself.

“Slow down love, the store isn’t goin anywhere.” You just rolled your eyes as you stopped and waiting for Niall to catch up to you. He grabbed your hand before the two of you ventured off into the store looking for the certain items you were craving at the moment.

“Hmm do I want double stuffed or just regular Oreos?” You tapped your index finger on your chin as you took in your options. “Oh! Niall they have Oreo thins!” You grabbed the box of cookies before you turned around and when you saw Niall leaning on the basket with his eyes half closed you couldn’t help but smile. You slipped the box of cookies into the cart and slid out your phone so you could capture the moment.

“Oi! I’m up!” He shot up and looked around as the sound of the camera went off. You just laughed and leaned over the basket and placed a kiss to his cheek. “What did ya pick lovey?” He looked down into the cart and shook his head when he saw the two jars of peanut butter, one smooth and one crunchy and two boxes of Oreo thins.

“Just some late night snacks.” You answered as you continued down the aisle making sure there wasn’t anything else you and the growing baby in your tummy wanted. “Oh babe! They have beef jerky!” You immediately took off towards the stand holding the bags of beef jerky and your mouth instantly started to water as you looked at all the flavors.

“Love, do ya think all this is gonna be good t'gether?” You heard the wheels of the cart coming up behind you and soon you felt his chin resting on your shoulder. He turned his head and gave your neck a quick kiss as one of his hands came and squeezed your hip.

“We want it,” you grabbed the original flavored jerky and before he could say anything you opened the package and took out a piece giving it a smell before popping it into your mouth. “Oh my god.” It came out more like a moan causing Niall’s eyes to go a bit wide as he looked around making sure no one was paying attention to the two of you.

“Uhm lovey ya tink we could get a move on now?” He asked as you slowly started making your way towards the front of the store. You just nodded as you placed another piece of jerky in your mouth causing Niall to lightly laugh and shake his head.

“Thank you babe, we love you.” Was all you said to him as you walked further ahead of him towards a check out lane. He just watched you walk ahead of him and couldn’t help but smile as he noticed your walk was turning more into a slight waddle due to the belly that was continuously growing. He couldn’t help but imagine how soon there would be an infant carrier in the basket and grocery shopping would be an event instead of just a quick pop in and out trip.

He also knew this was only the beginning of the craving stage of your pregnancy, he didn’t mind the midnight snack runs or in this case the early morning snack runs. Just like he didn’t mind when you would steal his shirts because that’s the only thing fitting you at the moment, he didn’t mind holding your hair as you got sick due to something you ate not agreeing with the baby growing inside you. He would do anything for you if you told him it would make you and the baby happy, the little girl inside your tummy already had him wrapped around her finger and he was totally okay with it.

A Breach of Trust: Chapter 16

(Chapter Index: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15 ||  Chapter 17 )

At 3:30, Reigen was standing tenth in line to check out at the grocery store nearest his apartment. He stared forward, glaze-eyed, through the ceiling-high windows decorating the front of the store. Rain clouds had gathered as a thick and dreary coat. The parking lot adopted their gray tint, and the air had turned dense with the spiking humidity, the crackling electricity. A storm was rolling through.

Not inside though. Inside the store was temperate, dry, perhaps just a bit too cold. Inside was bathed in the whiteness of fluorescent lights, and smothered in a silence broken only by the steady blip of a scanner running across grocery items. It lulled Reigen into a daze. Or maybe it just made him aware of it. If he were being honest with himself, the dazed feeling had been eating his brain for a good number of hours. That was easier than fully understanding the responsibility he had taken on. But it also made his memories of the day feel more like dreams, or plans, or thoughts. What had he done since the morning?

The line moved forward. Reigen shuffled with them.


The morning. …The morning had been quiet. The kind of dense and safe quiet that came with waking before the sun was even up. The kind that came with knowing he was likely the only soul awake in the apartment complex, soft socked feet scuffling across the floor above the heads of the sleeping.

Well one of the only souls, plural. That included Mob.

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Not Holding Back

A Shawn Mendes fanfic based on his song “There’s Nothing Holdin’ Me Back” aka A Fucking Banger. From Shawn’s POV.

A/N: Oops this just happened. It’s different but I really like this one. Hopefully you guys do too :)

There was a tether between us so strong it was nearly palpable. She could be leading me off a cliff and I’d still follow her- hell, maybe she was leading me off a cliff. I didn’t care either way. I was in love. We were in love. 

We met for the first time while I was touring in Montreal. I was legal age there, so me and the boys went to a quiet bar on a night off. We sat at a corner table with a pitcher of beer, trying not to draw attention to ourselves. She found me anyway. Like it was meant to be. I feel as though I could’ve been anywhere in the world that night instead, but somehow we’d still end up meeting. It was inevitable. Unavoidable. Fate.

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connerkennt-archive  asked:

“You’re afraid that you’ll lose me in big crowds so you always hold my hand but now you just hold my hand when there’s only, like, five people around and I’m getting vry suspicious” with my boy hank if u will pls and thank and ilysm😭💕💕💕💕

a/n; this turned into a kind of five times fic? idek what it is tbqh and also i like calling hank ‘lanky boy’ so that’s happening. @dicckgrayson @paperclipmac @kurtwxgners @mvximoff enjoy even though this is garbage 

i. concerts

The venue is heaving with people, and you instinctively reach for Hank’s hand, knowing if you lose him, you probably won’t find him again. He glances down at your joined hands, a little startled, and you shrug and say “this is not the time or place to lose track of each other, lanky boy.” He flushes slightly and you grin at him. “Just don’t let go, McCoy.” His fingers lace through yours and his grip on your hand tightens slightly as he tugs you through the crowds. 

ii. conventions

Glancing around the convention hall, all you see are rows and rows of booths with signs up for various scientific advancements or research areas. Hank had asked if you’d come to the particle physics convention and even though hearing about particle physics is far from your preferred way to spend an afternoon, he had been so flustered and sweet when he’d asked that you couldn’t say no. The crowds are bigger than you’d expected for a science convention, but you’re not worried about getting crushed in them. You feel Hank’s fingers nudge against yours and you reflexively take his hand as he says, a little bashfully, “don’t wanna lose you in the people.“ 

You smile at him and squeeze his hand lightly in return and say “of course.” 

iii. theme parks

Late autumn would not be your first choice in time to visit a theme park, but it’s a crisp, clear day and even though it’s chilly, it’s not cold enough to deter you. The rest of the students scatter cheerfully throughout the park, queuing up for various rides. “Less crowded that if we’d come in summer,” you observe and Hank shrugs. 

“Still plenty of others around,” he says, glancing at the lines for the rides. You nod in agreement and the two of you continue walking around, keeping an eye on the students you see as you look for something that interests the two of you. A few minutes later, you feel Hank take your hand. You glance down at your joined hands and then back up at him in surprise and he flushes slightly. “It’s still plenty crowded,” he says a little defensively. “Don’t want to lose track of you.” 

vi. movie theatres

“That was a garbage movie and no one should ever see it,” you declare as you walk out of the theatre, blinking a little blearily against the sudden change in brightness. Hank chuckles behind you.

“It was pretty shit,” he agrees. You can see the others walking a little ways ahead of the two of you, headed towards the theatre exit. There’s a small handful of other people besides you and your friends, but when Hank reaches for your hand, murmuring “it’s crowded”, you don’t correct him, instead just linking your fingers together as a smile tugs at your lips

v. grocery shopping

“Remind me again never ever to leave the grocery shopping till this late again,” you groan, clutching your jumper a little tighter around your body as a defence against the chill. Hank chuckles as he follows you into the grocery store. 

“I did try and remind you earlier today,” he says, smiling as you glare at him in mock irritation. “You were the one who insisted that the students should have snacks for the excursion tomorrow.”

“Zip it, McCoy,” you retort, your sharp tone belied by the smile tugging at your lips. The two of you wander into the almost completely empty grocery store, snagging a basket before heading down one of the aisles. You’re browsing the available selection of snacks when you feel Hank tentatively lace his fingers with yours. Looking down at your joined hands, you look up at him with a crooked smile. 

“Don’t tell me this is about crowds, Hank,” you say and he flushes. 

“I-it-no. I wanted to-I really-it’s-” he’s fumbling over his words and he’s not quite looking at  you and it’s sweet and you sort of think ‘fuck it’ as you reach up to tilt his face down to yours so you can kiss him. When you pull back, his eyes are wide and his glasses are a little askew and you smile at him. 

“You can hold my hand without an excuse.”

Singled Out//Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Kira Yukimura, Reader.

Please please please let me know what you guys think! Let me know if you want this extended out as a series!

You dated Stiles all throughout high school. You went to homecoming your freshmen year together and you broke up with him senior year. It wasn’t his fault, he had big plans and you didn’t want to get in his way.

Now, two years later, you’ve returned to Beacon Hills. You decided it had been long enough. You packed all your things and moved back last week.

You strolled through the grocery store, pushing the cart slowly as you gaze down each aisle.

You look down at your daughter who’s strapped into the cart, her hands full of items you’d picked up.

You turn down the cereal aisle when you hear a familiar voice.

“Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?” You turn to see Scott McCall. Of course that was your luck.

“Hey, Scott! It’s been awhile.” You smile, positioning yourself in front of the cart.

“How are you? I haven’t heard from you since before graduation.” He approaches, the groceries in his basket telling you he was no longer single.

“Oh..I’m good. Y'know, just working.” You say uncomfortably.

“Momma!” And that just added on to your good luck. You turn to face your daughter, who is holding her empty bottle up to you.

“Hold on, Em. I’ll get you more at home.” You take the bottle and give her a small bag of snacks.

“Momma?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah…” You laugh awkwardly. You step aside so he can see her.

“Hi, cutie.” He smiles at her and she waves. “What’s her name?”

“Emma.” You reply, running a hand through her curls as she looks up at you.

“She’s gorgeous.” You see his eyes scan your hand for a ring.

“Thanks.” You smile. You turn back to your cart. “I should probably get going, but it was nice to see you.”

“Yeah…you too.” He gives a small wave.

You continue pushing your cart down the aisle. You come to the end and get on your tiptoes to grab something from the top shelf. You’re just about to give up when a hand reaches up and grabs it for you.

“Is this what you wanted?”

You look over to the man beside you, your heart practically stopping.



You saw Scott coming up behind him.

“How’ve you been?”

“I’m good. You?”

“Same old same old.” He nods.

Scott’s eyes shift from you to Stiles. “I was just about to tell you I saw her.”

You laugh softly, tucking your hair behind your ear. You spot Kira not far behind Scott.

“Y/N! Hi!” She waves.

“Hey, Kira. Nice to see you.”

“You too.” She smiles.

Scott leans over and whispers something to her before they both leave. “Stiles we’re going to go grab milk, we’ll be back.” Scott tells his best friend.

Stiles puts the cereal in the cart for you, his eyes landing on Emma. He looked at you, and back to Emma. He opened his mouth and closed it, looking speechless. He crosses his arms, “Seriously, Y/N?”

“She’s not yours.” You blurt out.

“Like hell she isn’t. Do you think I’m stupid? She looks just like me!”

“Do not yell in front of her.” You immediately step between Stiles and the cart.

“How old is she?”

“Stiles, I-…”

“How old is she, Y/N.”

“Two..” You mumble.

He runs a hand through his hair, “This is why you broke up with me, isn’t it?”

“I” You can’t think straight.

“Don’t lie.”

“Stiles, you got into the FBI program. I didn’t want to screw things up for you.”

“So it’s my fault you took my daughter away?”

“Can we please not do this here?”

He sighs and looks at his phone. “I have a meeting in an hour. I’ll text you my address when it’s over and you can come to my house. I assume you still have the same number?”

You nod softly, your body feeling numb. Why’d you even come back?

He sighs and takes off, not another word spoken to you.

You finish up shopping and head back to your apartment. You get Emma set up in front of the TV before putting the groceries away.

You receive the text from Stiles. Deep down you hoped he’d just decide he didn’t want to talk about it. He seemed different now. He was hardened. He was a man.

You took Emma with you, you had no one else to watch her. You balanced her on your hip as you knocked, your stomach in knots.

He answered the door, his eyes locked with Emma’s. She waved at him and you could see his face soften.

“Can I hold her?”

You nod and hand her to him, Emma immediately snuggling into his neck. “She’s supposed to go down for a nap soon, so we can talk then.”

You sit on the couch and watch as Stiles plays with her, pure joy spread across his face.

He helped you put her down for a nap before the two of you sat at the dining room table.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Be honest.” He looks at you, a sad look on his face.

“You know better than anyone I’ve always wanted to be a mom. I thought that it was best for the both of us if we went our separate ways. You could go to school and be happy and I could be a mom and be happy.”

“You still could’ve told me.”

“It’s not that simple, Stiles. I would’ve loved having you to help me raise her, but if we’re both being honest here, if I’d told you…you would have never left Beacon Hills for school.”

He sighs, “You made the decision for me, Y/N.”

“Stiles…I’m sorry. I really am.”

“I guess it’s too late for that.”

“Look, I’m here now. I work nine to five…I’ve put her in daycare for those hours.”

“I work from home most of the time. Unless there’s a really serious investigation.”

“Do you want her from nine to five then? We could ease you and her into it.”

He’s silent for a moment. “I’d really like that.”

“Stiles…I’m really sorry. I just…” You sigh and put your head in your hands. “I thought that it would be better for you, y'know? I loved you so much and I wanted what was best for you. I didn’t think that being a teen parent was in your best interest.”

He stands up and hugs you. “I know. I don’t really think it’s okay, but I understand where you’re coming from…I would’ve done the same for you.”

You look up at him, he wore the same look as when he told you Allison had died. The look he had when he told you that his school was three hours away. It was the same look you wore when you broke up with him.

The memories rush into your head, practically making you dizzy with feelings.

“Stiles..I have no idea how to make this up to you.”

“We can only try, Y/N. I just want you to know that now that I know…I’ll always be here. No matter what.”

anonymous asked:

Ren/Nora, 9

This is actually the only Renora thing I have ever written and this is a problem. It is a problem I intend to fix.

Also I can’t remember who it was but the headcanon about Nora being a math wiz comes from a JNPR headcanon post and I loved it so much that I decided to use it– if you know who it was let me know so I can credit them!

“Ren!” Nora launched herself into the air as Ren entered their dorm.

“Nora wait, I’m holding coffee–” There was a crash as Ren dropped the coffee mug and Nora landed safely in his arms. She knew she would– Ren always caught her. Ren sighed and shot her a look that said, really, Nora? “Was that necessary?”

Nora laughed, wrapping her arms around Ren’s neck like a sloth. “Yes. Yes it was.” She booped his nose before bouncing back to her feet. There was a squelch and Nora glanced down at her feet, screwing up her face at the puddle of coffee that she’d landed in that was soaking into the carpet. Now their room was going to smell like coffee for weeks–not that she minded, but she knew Pyrrha would hate it. She didn’t like coffee at all–come to think of it, Ren didn’t either.  “Since when do you drink coffee?”   Oh well. She’d clean it up later and spray some air freshener or something to make it smell prettier. Like flowers– everyone liked flowers, right?

Ren raised an eyebrow. “I don’t. It was supposed to be for you.”

“Aww, thanks Renny! Sorry I made you drop it.” Nora scooped the now-empty cup off the ground and set it on the desk, next to the– “Oh!” Nora snatched the recipe off the desk and waved it at Ren. “Ren, I almost forgot! I found this online and it sounds so good we have to make these right now.”

Ren stared impassively at the piece of paper. “Don’t you need to study for our test tomorrow?”

Nora shrugged. “It’s math. It’s easy. I finished all the review problems while I was waiting for you to get back and then I was bored so I looked up recipes! And I found this one! Which as I already mentioned we have to make because it sounds amazing.”

“Okay yes but I have to study–”

“And I will help you! We can study together over a giant plate of cookies! Now stop making excuses and get your butt into the kitchen!” Nora wrapped her arms around Ren’s wrist and yanked, pulling him forward and nearly sending both of them toppling to the floor.

A few other students were hanging around the kitchen when they got there, but even the upperclassmen cleared out when they saw Nora and Ren. This was their domain, and Nora had threatened to break more than a few legs to keep it that way. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nora felt Ren pull against her and she turned to give him a stern glare.

“What is it now?”

“We need ingredients. We should go to the–”

“Already got them!” Nora hefted the basket of groceries she’d bought that afternoon, tossing them onto the counter with a thud.

Ren blinked in surprise but then shrugged and took it in stride. “Let’s get started then.”

And they did. Nora was halfway through pouring the last of the dry ingredients when she realized Ren had stopped what he was doing to stare at her. “What?” She put her hands on her hips, returning his look. As his eyes met hers she felt her whole body go warm, like it always did. Her heart raced and she thought her knees might give out, and Oum, let him not notice how pink her cheeks must be turning because she didn’t trust herself to talk her way out of it.

Ren smiled at her, reached for her and Nora realized with a jolt he was just brushing something off her cheek but all of a sudden her mind was going so fast that she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. “I love you.”

Ren froze, and for the first time ever that Nora remembered she couldn’t read his expression. She could hear her own pulse thundering in her ears as she waited, waited…

And then suddenly Ren’s arms were around her waist and he was kissing her and Nora could have sworn someone had just set off fireworks inside her brain except maybe this was part of some weird dream she was having because it had to be a dream, right?

Ren finally broke away and Nora let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She locked eyes with Ren. She didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Ren did. He reached over and tapped her nose playfully.


Cleanup in Aisle Five - Kylux, housewife!au

Another bit of housewife!AU. I’m still deciding if I want to post this on AO3 as-is or continue it, so I’ll leave it here in the meantime.

2100 words / light M / kylux modern AU

Hux always feels like a prey animal at the grocery store.

He pauses in picking through a colorful display of starfruit and papayas to do a casual scan of the produce section. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Richard Attenborough is narrating.

The male uses his superior height to evade detection by the females of the species while foraging.

Adding a couple of mangoes to the hand basket at his elbow, he snorts quietly to himself.

It wasn’t that he was antisocial. He generally liked being around people, especially when he could be in charge of group activities. But something seemed to happen to women his age who had moved to a rich suburb and produced the obligatory 2.5 children. It came with the territory, like one of those awful minivans with the televisions in them, or an affinity for kale smoothies. They would corner him with effusively friendly offers; invitations to play tennis, to join book club, to go shopping -  help me pick out a swim suit, you always have such good taste- or to come over for girls night.

We’re going to watch Magic Mike, Susan’s bringing the wine so we might get a little crazy, and I’m making these cute little fat free chocolate rice balls I saw on pinterest-

Meanwhile, Hux couldn’t escape the feeling that he was being hunted and bagged and mounted for display- the rare and elusive gay best friend to complete the appearance of the picture-perfect life for some aging California housewife.

That was better than the alternative, of course- that they were just being friendly because he was one of them. The thought makes him feel cold in a way that has nothing to do with the chilly air in the produce section.

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instant noodles and hazelnut coffee

pairing: tododeku

word count: 1.4k

summary: It’s finals week and Midoriya has a predisposition for going overboard with his studies.

Shouto’s never been one for asking a lot of questions, but it does strike him as a bit odd when Midoriya asks him to pick up some instant noodles at the convenience store on his way over to Midoriya’s apartment. Which, sure, fine—Shouto had been headed there anyway, and the convenience store isn’t out of the way, but still. It’s kind of weird.

Nonetheless, Shouto steps into the store, the fluorescent white lights flickering overhead as he makes his way to the instant food aisle with a small grocery basket in tow. Just as he begins to load the basket with an assortment of instant ramen, his phone vibrates in his back pocket.

read on ao3

anonymous asked:

How would the bros react to finding out their new love interest is living out of their car/homeless and struggles to find food but hides it from everyone?

Mm, this one was a little difficult, but I think I figured it out…*Fingers crossed*



You stood in a rather stunning apartment, turning as you looked to the owner of said apartment removing his shoes, before raising a questioning eyebrow to you.

“Uh, make yourself at home.” Noctis stated.

You opened your mouth to reply, “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but you don’t have to do this Noctis.”

Noctis glanced over his shoulder, before moving to the couch collapsing on it, “I know, but I want to.”

You fidget with the large overused duffle bag, holding every last piece of item you had left in  the world.

Somehow the Prince had gotten wind of your currently living situation, it was kind of difficult to explain, your parents were supporting your housing situation, yet when you got a ‘B’ on a final they stopped supporting you and you were immediately evicted from your apartment. Fortunately your Grandparents had purchased your car, so you had been living in the backseat, living off of To-go soup cans and the veggies that Noctis often picked off his food.

Yet the moment Noctis found you, going back to your car after an evening out with your friends, he immediately, jumped into the passenger seat and demanded you take him home. Only to trick you at the door, demanding you come up. Stating there was plenty of room, and Ignis wouldn’t mind cooking for you as well.

“If you’d like a shower, it’s down the way to the left. When’s the last time you ate?” Noctis asked, tapping away at his phone.

“Uh, about 2 days ago.” You thought, it might have been longer, since you were actually much shorter on money.

“I’ll order some take out.” He stated.

You smiled weakly, “Thank you.” You were lucky to make it to the bathroom before you broke down crying.



“Hey, y/n!” Prompto  cheered,  on his morning jog through the park.

You looked up from your everyday perch as you watched the blonde, “Morning!” You called back, you always marked his half way point.   Only noticing that he was holding a white back, which meant the sunshine, had washed your clothes, and brought you something to eat. “Thanks.”

You had only been living out your car for a few weeks, and if you played your cards right you would hopefully be moving into an apartment by the end of the month. It wasn’t in the safest part of town, but it would at least allow you a warm place to stay.

“So when are you getting the bigger place?” Prompto asked, as he handed you the bag.

“Hopefully by the end of the month.” You beam, “Thanks again for all the help Prompto.”

“No problem!”

“But it is, to tell you truthfully, I was worried I’d have to move back in with my Dad, but thanks to your kindness, this has been a lot easier. I mean you let me crash at your place anytime you can , and you keep feeding me. You’re amazing, I could never repay you!”

Prompto chuckled, as he scratched the back of his head, “Well there is one thing.”

“Name it!”

Prompto’s blue eyes glanced toward you, than away, “Instead of that place, would you mind moving in with me? It’s a huge apartment and just me, so it would just be safer in numbers.”

You seriously wanted to cry, “Prompto.”

“We can move in next week, but there’s one thing before that.”

“Yeah?” You asked, unsure of what other strings were attached to this deal.

“You have to let me take you out for dinner, sometime.”

You couldn’t stop the bright smile over your face. “I’d be honored!”



You jumped as you heard something brush against your tent, you hoped it was a racoon! It had better be a racoon! You thought, hand going to your hunting knife.

It was just one thing after another, Week one your parents kicked you,  then week two your lost job due to downsizing. Now you spent all your time trying to find a job and not starve to death while doing so.  Lucky you still had your gym membership so that you could take a shower, refill your water bottle, and charge your phone and emergency backup battery.

Now week three and you were about to protect what little you had left from a raccoon! Well you had a lot of rage from the last couple of weeks so bring it on!

“Y/n, are you in there?”

You put down your knife, “Gladiolus?” Stumbling from your one person tent you, stared at the large man standing before the opening. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You glanced around, you were camped up in one of the larger camping areas on the outskirts of the city. “Camping?”

“For 2 weeks?”

“You been stalking me?” You gasped accusatorily.

Gladiolus rose an eyebrow, before kneeling before your tent opening, “Y/n, come out.”

You groaned, before disappearing back into your tent, pulling on a hoodie to cover your tank top. Before crawling out the tent, checking your phone to see that it was about 10 at night. Standing full height as you looked to the man, who was still staring you down.

“So…” You begun.

“So start packing this stuff up.”

“Excuse me?”

Gladiolus motioned toward the large SUV behind him, “You’re staying with me.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Gladiolus groaned, running a large hand through his hair, “I can’t have you out here, just stay with me until you get back on your feet.”

You made to retort, only to glance at your small tent, it was old and patched up, letting out a sigh, as you turned back to the large guy. “Give me a second to pack a bag.”

Within half an hour your old home was tossed into the back of Gladiolus’ truck, and you sat in the large front seat, holding your backpack, to your chest. The two of you riding in silence, as he drove you to his large home.

“Gladiolus, thanks.”

A large hand found your head, as the man chuckled, “No problem.”



You paused your morning routine of cleaning the breakfast dishes, you had been living with Ignis for about 2 months now, prior you had been couch surfing on friends couches. As it turns out an internship at the castle, and working part time at a cafe, didn’t allow for you to afford a full meal, let alone  a place to live.

The truth came out, one evening while working at the castle, you had delivered some papers to Ignis, only to faint on the man’s floor after not eating a full meal in about four days. The man had allowed for you to rest on his couch, and even let you use his suit jacket as a blanket.

When you came to, the man had provide you with a hefty lunch, and feeling guilty about scarfing down his food, you explained your situation. The man opened his home to you right away, stating that you could stay with him until you saved up enough money to get your own apartment.

You offered to not to stay just for free, so you often cleaned up the house on your day off, or when going in late to the part time job. You two often arrived together to the castle most mornings, which of course got rumors going.

Yet Ignis never once provided the actual nature of your relationship.

As the two of you fell into your routine, you found it very difficult to find yourself the will to move out and by the way you found the the apartment listing brochures in the recycle bin, Ignis also felt the same way.

A smile played on your mouth, as you picked up your grocery basket, Ignis left a list on the table this morning of a new recipe that he would  like to try out.  It would be an exciting evening,