#Allergy-Free Furniture

[my-steam-green-carpet-c]

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[fictionalmenmakemecry]

Never getting over you- Part 2

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: Carmy seeing you that one night, brought back mountains of memories. Memories he's been trying to bury for a year. With him not being able to get you off his mind. He could only do one thing.

Warnings: Erotic memories, fluff, saliva, cursing

A/N Did not expect that big of response! Thank you guys :) I've been gone for a little bit but with the trailer coming out and the new season this month, I got inspired again.

Part 1

Enjoy!

He couldn't get you off his mind. So many questions raced through his head.

"Cousin!" Richie snapped, bringing Carmy back to reality.

Carmy looked cluelessly at him not remembering what Richie was nagging him for.

"What?!"

"Jesus Christ, am I talkin' to a wall?" Richie exclaimed glancing over at Sydney.

"The people at table 7... The- the fuckin' shellfish allergy. They're paranoid, they want rea-"

"Reassurance, yeah-yeah... I'm a little busy 'ere, can't you do your job?" Carmy went from station to station looking over everything that was firing

" Yo- you don't think I've tried?" Richie followed raising his arms.

"Fine! fine, I'll go..." Carmy yelled

Another night past of pernickety customers. Carmy was finally glad to close and lock his door and take a deep breath in his apartment.

He leaned against it for a few moments, finally taking in the silence of his surroundings and to be left with his thoughts on what the fuck actually happened tonight.

He kicked off his shoes and as if he was on autopilot, made his way to the bathroom, starting up the shower.

His mind never lifting from seeing you across the street. He couldn't believe it at first. With the lack of sleep he has been dealing with lately, he honestly thought he was losing his mind for a second.

Was something wrong?

Were you in trouble some way?

The way things ended between both you and the nasty words that hung in the air ever since. He really did think he wouldn't see you again.

His mind flashed back to seeing your cheeks red and raw with tears staining them. It was hours of fighting, he didn't know what time it was, but with the sound of the birds outside, most likely early morning.

"If you want to go..." Your words broke off, wiping your nose with a disintegrating tissue.

"Just fuckin' go" Your voice turned sour.

He stood leaning against the back of the couch. The only piece of furniture between the both of you.

He knew that if he left your apartment, he wasn't going to come back. He couldn't deal with this right now. The Bear was at a point of maybe not happening.

But you didn't know that. He didn't tell you that because he knew you would blame yourself. He could barely hold himself together.

With his head hanging low, he took one deep breath before bringing his eyes to yours. He took in your beautiful sorrowful eyes one more time.

"Fine... I'll go" He uttered weakly.

As he grabbed his keys and phone off the kitchen counter, a streak of panic ran through your veins.

Was this it?

Was this the final straw?

The last fight?

"Wait-" You spoke up

But he didn't wait, he continued to put on his shoes.

"Carmy plea-" You rushed over to him, grasping his shoulder and pulling him back.

He shrugged your hand off.

"Carmy, baby.. I don't want- please" Tears started rolling down your face as you came to the realization.

He glanced at you one more time as he made his way out the door, and closed it behind him.

You stood there, utterly lost and exhausted. The sinking feeling in your stomach only getting deeper and deeper.

Carmy did what he needed to do and poured himself into his work. He didn't give himself one minute of free time to let his mind drift onto you. He didn't want to feel the pain in his chest. He just needed to keep himself focused and busy until the pain was buried deep enough that he didn't have to deal with it.

But the sight of you tonight made him vulnerable. The dump truck of emotions that he felt shook him completely.

Days went by, and time went slow. Even in the hectic kitchen, service seemed to be a struggle for Carmy. Simple things that he was usually on top of were slipping through his fingers. He couldn't fuck up, after all the shit he has gone through to get The Bear up and running.

Before he knew it, he was outside your door. He thought that maybe he would have backed out on the way there....

Or outside the building...

Or maybe up the stairs...

But here he was, on 1am on a Tuesday.

"Fuck it" He mumbled, biting down on his lip in annoyance and pausing a moment before knocking on your door.

With an unexpected knock, you snapped your head to the door. You looked at your phone to see it was past midnight.

Curiosity got the best of you, made your way to the door and looked through the peephole.

Your eyes widened to see Carmy on the other side. Your stomach dropped and your mind went blank.

A moment went by and without thinking, you opened the door.

Your eyes landed on his tired ones.

"Carmy.." A word you haven't spoke out loud in months. Your were taken completely off guard and your voice showed that with it's softness.

"I-i" He stuttered looking down, his hand stuffed his wool jacket.

"I thought I would che- fuck.."

You could sense the nervousness off of him, with his tumbling of words.

He looked through his eyelids, with his head hanging low.

"Do you want to come in?" You moved aside giving him room to make his way.

Without another word spoken, he walked past you and the oh so familiar smell of cigarettes, gum and just Carmy filled the air around you.

As much you wanted to convince yourself that it didn't.... It made you crumble inside.

You closed and locked the door, turning around to find his eyes on you.

You looked down and realized that you still were wearing one of his white shirts as pjs. Your stare was back on him, a small playful smile was on his face. A smile he was trying to hide.

The last time he saw you in that shirt, you were bent over on his mattress with it riding up your back with every thrust. The memory made his jeans tighter. He noticed how your hard nipples would peek through, making it incredibly difficult to drag his eyes away from them.

He knew you noticed because you crossed your arms immediately and sucked in your lips trying to hide the blush that was appearing on your cheeks.

A million thoughts were running through Carmy's mind. But to find you in his shirt, short circuited something in his brain. He couldn't get past seeing your face contorted in pleasure or the little whimpers that escaped your mouth.

With your eyes back on the ground, you watched as he slowly walked closer to you until you could feel his body radiate heat onto your arms.

Your eyes followed his fingers as they gently brushed up your arms and over your shoulder. They slowly made their way to the bottom of your chin, bringing your face up to his. Where his eyes were already on yours.

"Carm-"

"Do you want me to stop?" He whispered, his warm breath hitting your lips.

His blue, soft eyes slowly got tainted by something darker.

You shook your head subtly feeling his callous fingertips brush your lips.

Nothing could have stopped you from giving in to him. The very drug that you've been withdrawn from for a year. All you wanted to do right now was overdose.

Without any hesitation from either of you, your lips crashed together.

You felt his hungry with the kiss immediately becoming desperate. He brought his hand up and wrapped it around your neck. The sensation you missed so much. With both of your mouths wanting to taste as much as possible, the kiss turned wetter. You could taste the stale nicotine on his tongue. You felt him lean into you more and more until you caught yourself up against the door.

You felt him pull away for a brief moment, only to be able to catch your breath. His hand still on your throat. His blown out pupils searching yours. His fingers still wrapped around your neck, he brought his thumb up to your lips.

You knew exactly what he wanted. Without hesitation, you opened up obediently, letting his thumb brush up against your eager tongue. He clenched his jaw feeling you gently starting to suck his thumb. It only reminded him of how much he loved your mouth.

Your innocent eyes. swollen lips and wet saliva bringing him to the edge of falling apart.

"Fuck- I've missed you"

[itsagrimm]

Domestic König HC

SFW

He can keep a plant alive. In fact he does so very successfully. His living space is filled with sturdy little plants that can survive him being away for a while. His most beloved ones are his herbs growing at the kitchen window.

Not big onto leaving the house or eating at restaurants. He has agoraphobic tendencies and they serve too small portions for him anyway. So he taught himself cooking most of the fancy foods he would have ordered. Naturally, he uses some of the herbs he grows.

He does climbing in his free-time to help with his anxiety & general work-out and is a regular at his local boulder gym. Since he is there so much, the people from the gym sometimes asks him to help out with coming up with new routes which he does. As he is so tall and strong due to his job, he asks for his S/O to test and tweak the routes for the normal climbers to ensure accessability. It makes him so proud when his S/O enjoys his ideas and climbs his routes.

Speaking of work out. During Covid and Lockdown he asked his S/O to help him with keeping fit by sitting on him while doing pushups. Seriously contemplated feeding them more food so that he would have more weight to push.

Not super into cleaning but he has ✨a system.✨ He splits up the tasks and spreads them out over the week a bit so that it's not too much for him. Also the first to buy automated cleaning tools to get rid off work he dislikes.

Coming from a more rural part of Austria he is familiar with agriculture and forestry. He generally knows what's in season. He knows several easy means to preserve food. Has no issues with eating game meat, maybe even has a hunters license himself.

Dislikes buying new things if he does not have to. His home is filled with furniture from relatives or self-repairs. He is no carpenter but knows enough to do little repairs and paints everything to match the colour scheme of his living space. Also enjoys strolling over the sunday flea market with his S/O. He got a box of enamel pots from there once, a set of unworn shoes IN HIS SIZE the other time. He craves this gatherer endorphines rush since then.

NSFW

First things first - Sex is very important to König, it grounds him and makes him feel connected with his S/O.

He likes doing it at home and is a bit more private about his bedroom habits.

After a time of getting to know each other sex becomes less awkward and he moves with much more security. His S/O will find König to be both dominating and submissive at times, depending on the mood.

If he is submissive he will ask his S/O what they want to do with him and more often than not comply with that.

If he is more dominating he will manhandle his S/O and (lovingly) fuck their brains out.

Also, his breath hitches when getting pegged.

His hands make fists every time his S/O goes down on him to enjoy the feeling for a bit longer and not cum instantly. Sweet lips and a sloppy tongue are his cryptonite.

PULL HIS HAIR! and scratch him.

Avoid his tattoos while doing so. He has a couple of tattoos. One is below his navel right over the hem of his boxers. It's a simple arrow pointing downwards to his crotch. Just in case it's hard to find sometimes.

Naturally, he is playful and goofy at times.

His pleasure is tied with his S/O and he likes to see them cum at least once before he can let go and cum himself. He also likes to see his S/O cum several times and draws much enjoyment from them quivering and shaking in his arms or under his lip.

Sometimes he growls and hisses before cuming.

Is down to try a few more kinky things and is willing to phrase that after growing comfortable in the relationship and working on his emotional communication.

Kinks he would like to try out after the already aforementioned pegging, are choking & getting choked, something similar to latex wear since he has a latex allergy, bondage and finally something he hasn't figured out how to phrase yet but it includes mirrors.

He isn't fully opposed to opening up the relationship but generally doesn't know what he would do with that. Feeling connected is important for him when having sex. It's more likely that he would prefer a somewhat closed and steady constellation, if that includes several people he likes and maybe even loves he would be down.

Say what you want but König is not a cis-hetero-man. he just passes as that very easily.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for taking everything I can from a former friend?

I 20 met this guy J 24M last year through a mutual friend, and since we happened to live in the same neighborhood we hung out more. For context, during this entire time I am/was also supporting an unrelated person financially, so I need every penny and have way less than J.

J has borderline personality disorder and does not go to therapy. I don't want to vilify anyone in the same situation, I'm just bringing it up because J's bps deeply impacts every aspect of his life.

He'd been going through some tough times, with his love life going to shit, cutting off his toxic family and having to find his own apartment etc, so I helped him often.

Since neither of us have much, we shared stuff regularly, e.g. he'd buy me food sometimes and I gave J my skateboard, among other things. I painted his walls & decorated, because I have the skill necessary and he doesn't. I went out to look at furniture with him. I asked my parents to give him furniture they were selling (he got it free). I frequently went to his place in the middle of the night, whether he had splitting migraines or thought someone had tried to break in. I helped him organize a Christmas party, even though he cancelled it because he got angry at someone or something. I cooked for him a few times (he doesn't cook). I let him use my washing machine after he moved into his new apartment without one, even though he owned a cat so all his clothes were covered in cat hair and I have a severe cat allergy, meaning I couldn't do my laundry normally & sometimes it came out with cat hair no matter how hard I tried (this lasted 8 months and would have gone on indefinitely if not for following events). Btw I did all of this without asking for anything in return.

Earlier this year, because of his ridiculously high expectations, he dumped his best friend at the time (the mutual friend), and assigned me his new best friend. After a few months, they became friends again anyway but I kept the "best friend" title.

In July, he hurt his dominant hand during an angry outburst. I was there when it happened but he seemed fine at the time. When he came to do his laundry the next day, Sunday, he told me that his hand was sprained and we talked about how he'd need to see the doctor the next day. He agreed to go. He promised to go to the doctor.

I know he's not good with going to doctors, especially on his own. So I texted him the next day and asked if he'd already gone. He responded "Nope, don't feel like", and upon asking why, he said that "it'll heal on its own anyway". Which to me read as 'I don't care.'

This pissed me off. I blocked him. I planned to unblock him once I'd calmed down, probably in a few days. I was really upset about this because it happens regularly. Him not going to the doctor when he should is a pattern, a bad pattern. He's gotten me sick that way.

The next day he texted my partner, asking if I was okay. They explained that i was upset at him for telling me he'd go to the doctor but then not going. He blew up at them that it was none of my business anyway whether or not he went to the doctor. Whined about his medical anxiety (which is valid but wasn't the point). Said that the sprain was healing so he didn't have to go. They argued for a while until my partner got tired and stopped responding.

Apparently I am now no longer his friend. He asked our mutual friend to tell me to pick up my stuff. I'm busy these days, so I haven't done it yet.

When I pick up my stuff, it's gonna be a whole list of things: a seat/cushion, a stovetop, 75€ worth of comics, a measuring tape, the skateboard, a box. I'll also bring him laundry detergents that are laying around at my place still.

Now WIBTA if I ask him to also give me pain medication to replace all the meds I gave him and money for the furniture I got him for free at the time (I'll ask 40€ even though they're worth more)?

What are these acronyms?

[shameka-with-one-e]

8 Tips to Live a Dander-Free Lifestyle.

One of God's greatest creations - aside from women, that is - is cats. If you are a Cat lover, but unfortunately, your allergies will not allow you to enjoy your furry best friend. Here are a few great tips, I think will be beneficial to you.

First, you may be happy to know, that more often than not. You may not be allergic to your cat at all. You may just be triggered by their cat dander. You are not alone in this struggle. Many people automatically assume that they are allergic to their Cats. Truth is, that is not always the case. Unfortunately, Cats have a chemical that is produced from their saliva, called Fel d 1, which partners with Fel d 4 and is transported onto Cat's fur when they are grooming themselves. And you're probably wondering, how can you lessen the allergies produced by your best friend. Today is your lucky day. I am here to tell you, 8 simple ways to co-exist with your furry BFF.

Here's how.

Groom

Change their food to Pro-Plan (Live Clear) to reduce dander.

Dust your home often

Wash Linens

Vacuum

Clean Litter Box Daily

No Pets Allowed (in one room).

Place Cat covers over furniture.

Aside from these routine treatments, you can also consult with your doctor and consider taking an allergy test to see what you may be allergic to. As well as taking medicines that help with your allergies.

These easy-to-do steps can significantly help to reduce your allergies that are triggered by your best friend's dander. This will allow you to efficiently, be able to continue to be bossed around, by an always-hungry, never-want-to-give-kisses, bossy best friend. Hope this help you to get started in a healthy direction, to keep your furry family around.

Learn more about cat allergies

References

Popescu, F. D., Ganea, C. S., Panaitescu, C., & Vieru, M. (2021). Molecular diagnosis in cat allergy. World journal of methodology, 11(3), 46–60. https://doi.org/10.5662/wjm.v11.i3.46.

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

A Prince and His Subjects

Title: A Prince and His Subjects

Summary: Or five times the other sides were a simp for Roman and he never noticed. Meanwhile Remus suffers as he tries to protect his brother.

Warnings: none, no smut but there are spicy implications.

Pairings: LAMP, BROTHERLY CREATIVITWINS

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Roman always thought that he wasn’t anything special. Yes, he had his own special abilities and magic. He was confident and extra confident on good days. He was brave and kind. Yet, Roman felt as if he was no different nor did he stand out. He tries to with his prince role but he knows he doesn’t always have to put on the costume. He was just Roman. Thomas’ Creativity, Ego, and Passion. Nothing more and nothing less. That’s what he saw and thought of himself. Of course, there’s his big tower of insecurities but he’d rather not address them. To him, Roman is just Roman. The prince isn’t aware that his subjects, or rather the other sides see so much more. Remus does and he gags every time. He’s glad they’re treating his brother nicely but they could be simping less. A lot less.

1.

            It’s another slow day with Thomas free for the day so that left the sides with not being needed in a meeting for the day or until their host summons them. In the Mindpalace, Patton called everyone together to do some cleaning since the common area had become a mess. The place was used for many movie nights and sleepovers during the past few weeks. So, now they stood in the messy common area. There was trash on the couch, books on the coffee table as well as abandoned coffee mugs and empty cookie plates. There’s probably something behind the couch where Remus pops up to join them.

“Okay, everyone! Are you guys ready to clean?” Patton asks, grinning. “I know it would be easier to snap the mess away but it’s also tricky since we don’t know exactly where those things go.”

Roman nods, always eager to help with a little cleaning. He doesn’t look like it but he does like organizing things so they match and look neat plus the extra space is satisfying to him.

“I’m ready, Padre!” he grins, doing his usual royal pose.

Patton claps happily.

“Good! Has everyone decided what they’ll handle?”

“I’ll clear up the books. I apologize for leaving so many of them here.” Logan volunteers.

“That’s alright, Lo. We know you can’t put your books down. If you want, you can leave the book you’re currently reading here.” Patton replies.

Logan blinks and smiles small, his cheeks slightly pink.

“Ah. Thank you, Patton.”

“Of course! Okay, who else is doing what?”

“I’ll handle the cobwebs, dust, and the trash so Princey doesn’t whine about dust allergies.” Virgil answers, taking off his hoodie and tying it around his waist.

“Please do vanquish every speck of dust. I refuse to sit through another movie night with watery eyes.” Roman huffs cutely, feigning a pout. He does appreciate Virgil taking him into consideration.

Virgil chuckles, averting his gaze with a light flush.

“I’ll vanquish all of them, Princey.”

Remus rolls his eyes at that as Patton nods.

“Good! Roman, Janus?” Patton asks, turning to them.

“I’m going to rearrange the furniture back to where they were. We haven’t moved them since the last sleep over as well as reorganize the movies.” Roman volunteers. “Plus, this place is majorly due for redecorating.”

Patton giggles at that.

“Have fun, Ro! Oh, and don’t strain yourself!”

“I’ll be alright, Padre. I don’t just train to vanquish the Dragon Witch.” Roman grins, waving his hand to change the top half of his costume into a tank top.

            Roman used to be ashamed of showing his arms since they were covered in plenty scars but with some assurances, he found some bravery. Lately, especially on hot days, Roman can be found in tank tops or completely topless. It’s definitely not unwelcome. Roman trains a lot and works out for his Imagination adventures and because he likes keeping his body fit and toned so he’s got quite a pair of muscly arms as a well as a nicely toned chest. It makes the others minus Remus glance at him for a moment. Roman just blinks obliviously.

Meanwhile, Patton stops himself from getting any redder as he tears his gaze away from Roman and his arms before turning to Janus.

“What about you, Jan?”

Janus hums, stealing a second glance at Roman because he can and he’s the most shameless next to the twins.

“Hm, I suppose I shall assist Roman. Someone has to pick up the mess when he moves the furniture. Plus, there’s bound to be something interesting under the couch.” he answers, smirking at Roman.

Roman only smiles innocently at Janus and nods.

“Sure! I could use someone to watch my back in case I bump into something.” he chirps, the poor thing unaware of what was going on.

Virgil, having known Janus long enough to spot his schemes, squints and glares subtly at Janus.

That sneaky fucking snake. That was clever.

Remus nearly gags. He had been surprised when Janus admitted he was attracted to Roman. He’s glad his brother is getting love but also wished he hadn’t had to see stuff like this. He’s not the mushy gushy love guy here. He’s the gross, icky intrusive man. That, and his brother was just so innocent and dumb, more so than Patton. Remus wanted to keep him that way. Not that he cared, nope.

Patton just smiles, flustering more. He seems to know too.

“Alright, Janus. I’ll help Virgil with the dusting then I’ll take care of the dishes.” he nods, summoning a feather duster. “Remus, can you help clean too? You don’t have to handle soap.”

Remus secretly is relieved to hear that and looks around. Well, someone’s gotta keep an eye on Roman and make sure the others don’t make him uncomfortable by accident.

“I’ll clear out my stuff from behind the couch because if I don’t, Janny’s gonna make me do it anyways.” he huffs.

Janus chuckles.

“Perhaps you should stop bringing your things to movie night.” he teases. “We don’t need any more…toys.”

Roman tilts his head in confusion. He may handle romance but he tends to miss innuendos and the like.

“But we always bring our plushies to movie night?” he questions.

“Oh, those toys are okay. Remus can’t bring his toys though.” Janus grins, resisting the urge to ruin his innocence.

“Why? What kind of toys does Remus have?” Roman asks, even more confused.

Remus glares at Janus who has a smug grin on his face.

“Don’t worry too much about it, RoRo.” Remus intervenes.

The prince blinks.

“Oh. Okay then.”

Patton clears his throat awkwardly at that and summons his cleaning apron as well.

“Okay, let’s get cleaning, everyone!”

            With that, the sides went off to go do their tasks. Roman immediately went to the beanbags he left piled in the corner from the last movie night. He hums and bends down, scooping up the blankets on top along with the pillows, setting them aside. Then he picks up his Beast onesie and waves his hand to send it back to his room. With that done, Roman bends back down and gathers the beanbags, unaware of where Janus’ eyes were.

            Janus had followed Roman, waiting for him to move something so he can watch-help Roman pick up any items that had been hiding under the furniture. When he saw Roman bend ever so perfectly, he couldn’t help but smirk at the new view. Roman was quite toned, even from the back. The snake side’s eyes slowly travel lower and lower and…

Roman stands up and Janus hides his smirk.

“Good work, Roman. Oh, and you even found the missing TV remote.” Janus praises, taking that moment to pat Roman’s arm.

Remus squints.

Is the snake seriously feeling up his twin? Gross.

“Oh, thanks, Jan! Could you grab it for me? I need to move these.” Roman grins back at the yellow side.

Janus squeezes Roman’s arm and nods.

“Of course.”

Roman nods his thanks and waddles away with the beanbags.

Remus huffs and stands up from where he was looking for his things behind the couch.

“Really? Feeling up my brother in front of me? You might as well grope his ass too, you horny fucking snake.” he growls, huffing.

Janus merely chuckles and smirks.

“Tempting but we have cleaning to do, Remus. Besides, it’s not like Roman’s going anywhere anytime soon~”

Roman, who had returned just then, blinks in confusion.

“Where would I be going?”

Remus says nothing and glares at Janus.

2.

            Virgil doesn’t often wander into the Imagination, especially alone. When Roman asked him to come along for a walk, he couldn’t really say no. Roman had busted out what he dubs as the “princey pout” and Virgil was a weak side. So now, Virgil finds himself strolling along beside Roman in the Enchanted Forest. It’s nice and peaceful. Or as peaceful as Virgil can tell. Being the embodiment of someone’s Anxiety always reminds him that anything bad could happen. So, Virgil is still a little on guard. He tries to distract himself and glances at Roman.

            Roman is humming as he walks along, his katana sheathed at his side. He had assured Virgil that they’re not going to fight anything but he decided to bring it along. Just in case. Bright emerald eyes gaze at the forest path head, counting the little yellow daisies that dot the way. A blue jay then flutters from its nest and flies down to Roman with a chirp. The creative side smiles fondly and holds up his finger, chuckling as the bird perches for a moment. He takes that moment to pet the bird’s tiny head.

“Hello, little one. I see your injured wing is feeling better. Have your eggs hatched?” Roman asks, gently stroking the bird.

The bird chirps and shakes his head.

“Ah, I see. I’ll try to be here when that does happen.” Roman replies, chuckling as the bird hops and chirps happily.

Meanwhile, Virgil blinks out of his stupor.

“Huh. So, you can talk to animals, princey.” he teases, smirking slightly.

Roman smiles and lets the bird go, watching it return to its nest.

“I love my creatures, big and small, so I used a spell to give myself the ability to communicate with them.” he explains, waving to a passing rabbit.

Virgil hums at that.

“Or maybe you’re just actually a Disney prince.” he mutters.

Roman blinks.

“What?”

“N-Nothing, shut up!” Virgil flustered.

“Oh. Well…I guess we should just keep on walking then.”

Virgil sighs and nods.

Nice job, Virgil.

            As they continue to walk, neither notice the rustling tree branches behind them. Up above in the thick of the tree branches is Remus, watching them walk. He was going to jump down as a sneak attack on Roman but held back when he saw Virgil. Out of curiosity, he stayed back to watch them walk. Huffing, Remus hops to another branch to follow after them. Remus isn’t being overprotective towards his little brother. Nope. He’s just…making sure Roman is okay. Yeah.

            Meanwhile, Roman leads Virgil to big clearing in the forest. A beautiful lake sits in the center, shaded by the canopy above. Off to the side and further back is a beautiful cottage with lavender vines growing down the sides of the roof. Playful creatures like rabbits and squirrels scurry by. A small duck family lounges at the side of the pond. Dragon flies dance around and across the lake. There’s also a log to sit on nearby. This place is one of Roman’s favorite places to go when things are too much or when he wants to be alone. He then leads Virgil to the log bench.

“This is what I wanted to show you. One of my favorite places.” he explains, gazing at the water.

Virgil follows his gaze and watches some waterlilies float by.

“It’s…beautiful, Ro.” he replies, perching on the log bench.

Roman smiles softly, watching the ducklings splashing in shallow of the lake.

“I’m glad you think so. It’s where I sometimes go to unwind after a long day or just to think. Sometimes I come here to nap.” he smiles, chuckling.

Virgil nods along.

“Yeah? That sounds pretty relaxing. I don’t think I could nap out here. A bug might crawl up my nose or mouth or ears. Or I’ll somehow roll into the lake and die even if it’s shallow.” he replies, laughing too.

Roman chuckles again.

“That’s understandable but if you do ever want to give it a try, I’m here to accompany you. I’ll make sure no bugs crawl inside you or that you don’t roll into the lake. Or we could do other things.”

Remus, who had followed and watched from the branches, squints.

Virgil flusters, smiling shyly at Roman for a moment.

“L-Like what, Princey?”

“Swimming!” Roman grins, standing up.

“Oh.”

Virgil lets his heart calm down. Bless Roman, he’s just so damn innocent.

Meanwhile, Remus frowns and huffs.

“You really thought you were going to get dicked down by my brother, huh? Naughty emo.” he whispers, knowing damn well that Virgil can at least hear him.

Virgil does hear him, his head whipping to the side. He squints but sees nothing though he swears there’s glowing eyes in one of the trees and-

“So, do you want to swim with me, emo?”

Virgil looks back to Roman and nearly falls off the bench, his face reddening.

Roman had changed into a pair of swim trunks, giving Virgil an eyeful of his chiseled abs and toned arms. It doesn’t help that he’s got…quite the chest or a sexy-

“Virgil?”

Virgil jolts and averts his gaze.

“Uh, sorry, what?” he answers dumbly.

“I said, do you want to swim with me?” Roman asks again, head tilted in confusion.

Virgil flusters.

“Oh, uh, I’m good. Don’t want to ruin the eyeshadow and I’m too pale.” he replies.

It’s not a lie but he didn’t want to tell Roman he actually couldn’t swim or that he’ll combust, staring at Roman’s abs and arms.

Roman just shrugs and smiles.

“Okay then. I’ll just go on ahead.” he hums, turning around.

Once again, Virgil is blessed with the view of Roman’s backside. Damn, even his back muscles are hot.

Remus growls lowly and huffs.

“That’s not where his eyes are, Virgil.” he hisses.

Virgil jumps again and turns red, glaring at the eyes in the trees. Dammit, Remus.

3.

            Logan doesn’t often hang out in Roman’s room. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, no. It’s just…a little harder to function normally being in the same room as Roman. Especially in his bedroom. He’s Logic, after all. He’s not supposed to be feeling stuff…or thinking about…certain things.

            And yet, Logan finds himself outside of Roman’s room with some books under his arm. It’s a brainstorm session and Roman invited him over. The logical side figured that he could use the books as a distraction, so he didn’t have to look at Roman too much. Sighing, Logan stands tall and knocks at Roman’s door.

“Be there in a moment!” comes Roman’s voice.

The door then opens.

“Ah, I hope I’m not-oh.” Logan’s words die on his tongue.

Roman is back in his tank top and it seems he’s been experimenting with his makeup again. He’s always had the prettiest face despite all of them looking similar to each other.

“Um, Logan? What were you saying?” Roman tilts his head cutely and Logan has to clear his throat.

“Ah, I was saying, I hope I’m not late.” Logan stammers, adjusting his glasses.

Roman smiles.

“You’re right on time, Specs! Come on!” he chirps, taking Logan’s free hand and tugging him inside before shutting the door.

Logan lets Roman lead him. Even his hands feel strong.

“You wanna join me in bed?” Roman asks.

Logan nearly chokes but saves it with a cough.

“E-Excuse me?”

Roman plops down on his big, royal bed with some books piled in front of him and his beloved red binder.

“Do you want to sit here and brainstorm? It’s comfy and soft. It’s okay if you don’t want to. You can also take my desk chair.” he asks, blinking innocently.

Oh. Right. That’s what he meant.

Under Roman’s bed, Remus squints and huffs as he chews on one of Roman’s old boots. Even nerdy wolverine had naughty thoughts about his brother. Gross. It makes Remus summon a shuriken. Just in case.

Logan regains his composure and nods, clearing his throat a second time.

“I-I’ll join you, Roman.” he replies.

He then toes off his shoes and sits on Roman’s bed before setting his books down.

“Yay!” Roman cheers before grabbing his binder and summoning a pen. “So, do you want to hear what I have so far?”

Logan finds himself staring for a moment before refocusing and nodding.

“Of course.”

For next hour, he and Roman share ideas and thoughts. They wind up chatting a lot and talking about books they’ve been reading, upcoming things on Thomas’ schedule, and other little things. It’s nice and Roman cherishes the moment because it’s not often they can settle down and just talk without bursting into arguments. They’re working on arguing less though. It’s a…long process.

“Ooh, I’m so excited for Thomas to do the Crofters tasting video!” Roman then squeals.

Logan finds himself tugging on his tie for the millionth time this hour. Roman’s just so sweet. So bright.

They had moved onto video ideas and the conversation evolved into discussing already planned videos. Most of them were to be fun little shorts for Thomas to do as a break from his usual stuff.

“I agree though I wish we didn’t have to rank them. They all taste exquisite.” Logan replies, a small smile on his lips.

Roman giggles and Logan feels like he’s been blinded by the sun.

“Definitely! But I’m curious to see what Thomas’ opinion is. He only gets certain flavors and there’s probably a lot more he hasn’t tried.” The prince grins, bouncing up and down.

“Of course.” Logan replies before flustering and averting his gaze. “And I appreciate the fact you invited me into this video.”

Roman nods happily.

“I wanted to, Logan! Crofters was your thing first and I merely got inspired to try. Plus, it’s your turn in the spotlight, my dear nerd.” he winks.

Logan has to breathe through his nose to stay calm. Damn, that handsome prince and his handsome face.

“T-Thank you, Roman.” he manages to say a moment later.

Roman nods again and Logan takes a moment to calm himself down on the inside. The two then go back to talking and brainstorming. At some point, Logan found himself gazing at Roman’s face again as the prince was talking.

Logan couldn’t help it. Roman had such a pretty face. The scars made him look extra handsome. His eyes were just as pretty, sparkling like a pair of emeralds. If Logan looked closer, he could see that Creative spark in those eyes. He could see passion and wonder. Sometimes Logan wondered what the world was like through Roman’s eyes.

“Uh, Specs? Logan?”

Logan blinks and realizes he’d been ogling Roman for some time now. Oops.

“A-Apologies, Roman. I…got lost in thought.” he answers, face flushed.

Meanwhile, Remus who had moved to watch from his twin’s massive closet, rolls his eyes.

“You’re so lucky it takes more bullshit than that to summon Janny.” he hisses under his breath.

Back to the two, Roman just smiles and pats Logan’s shoulder.

“It’s okay! Anyways, I was asking if I could practice my makeup skills on your face. Thomas wants to do another makeup video and I want to be on top of my skills so I can help!” he replies.

Logan doesn’t mind makeup though he doesn’t wear it as often as Roman does. He’s not really that good with the art. Yet, he can’t find himself to deny Roman. Not with that smiling, pretty face looking at him.

“Sure, but nothing heavy, Roman.” he nods, a little flustered.

Roman perks up and claps happily, bouncing up from the bed.

“Oh, thank you, Logan! Wait there! I’m gonna get some stuff from the bathroom.” he squeals before dashing off to his bathroom.

Once the door clicks shut, Remus takes that time to slip out of the closet.

“Watch yourself, nerd. I could hear your nasty little thoughts from there.” he whispers in the logical side’s ear, holding up a shuriken.

Logan blinks, composing himself from being startled.

“What do you mean? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Remus squints.

“Uh huh. I saw you eye-fucking my brother.”

Then he sinks away while Logan is left standing there with a red face.

4.

            Patton loves to bake a lot. It’s calming and fun and he loves giving treats to everyone. He loves it more when he bakes with someone. This time, he’s baking with Roman which has him super excited. Roman is often busy in the Imagination, helping Thomas, or doing some creative work so he doesn’t always have time to do this kind of stuff. With Thomas having another slow day and things being quiet in the Mindpalace, Patton was able to invite Roman who happily agreed to join.

            And now here they were in the kitchen, utensils and bowls scattered around the counter. Flour covers the surface. Patton is in his sky-blue apron and Roman in his white apron. Roman also has his bangs pinned away from his face with a cute little hairclip that’s shaped like a crown. Right now, the two were mixing cake batter.

“Mm, I can’t wait to have these for dessert later. We deserve a little treat!” Roman grins, eager to have some cake after dinner.

Patton nods happily.

“We do! How’s your batter coming along?”

Roman holds up his red bowl.

“I think it’s almost ready!” he answers, mixing a few more times.

“Good! Mine’s almost ready too! Once we get these in the oven, we can work on the frosting and icing!”

Roman nods.

“Oh, I love that part!”

The two laugh and they keep mixing. Soon the batter is ready and they put it in the cake pans. Once that’s done, they place it in the oven to bake. After shutting the oven door and setting the timer, Patton moves and opens the cabinet to get more bowls while Roman gets the ingredients needed.

Patton then sees a problem. The rest of the big mixing bowls are on the top shelf of the cabinet and he can’t reach them.

“Oh dear.” he frowns.

Roman sets down the box of icing mix that he was looking at.

“Is something wrong, Pat?” he asks.

“Could you reach up and get those bowls for me, Roman?”

“Oh, sure!”

Before Patton can move aside, he feels something solid behind him and he blinks. He looks up and nearly squeaks. Roman’s pressing up against him, reaching up into the cabinets. Patton quickly turns away, looking at the counter instead. He can feel Roman’s chest behind his head.

Roman is much taller than him and Patton has no complaints. He’s…very strong too. If Patton leaned back enough, he could feel Roman’s chest against the back of his head and-

“One of the others must have put the bowls up here after movie night.” comes Roman’s voice from behind him. It makes him shiver as Roman’s basically talking in his ear.

Then the solid and muscly wall that is Roman is gone from behind him, now standing beside him instead with the bowl.

“Here you go!”

Patton blinks and hopes he isn’t blushing too much before taking the bowl.

“T-Thank you.”

Roman nods and goes to the other side of the kitchen with the icing box to read the instructions.

Meanwhile, Patton calms himself down. As he moves to put the bowl down, he feels something grab his ankle and he almost squeaks again. The fatherly side looks down and has to hold back another squeak when he sees Remus’ head sticking out of the sink cabinet.

“Don’t even think about it, froggy.”

Then Remus lets go and disappears under the sink.

Patton shudders at that and continues with baking, totally not thinking about Roman’s body against his earlier.

5.

            It’s another slow day in the Mindpalace. Everyone had been hard at work, assisting Thomas last week so this time they agreed to just chill out for the time being. They gathered in the living area and put on a movie though no one really paid much attention to it. Patton was doing a word search for fun, Logan sitting next to him on the couch with a book. Virgil was next to Logan, gaming away on his Switch. Roman and Remus took up the beanbags beside the couch, the twins doodling and brainstorming in a shared sketchbook. Janus sat at their feet, also reading.

Though Janus was getting bored. He’s already read his book and despite it being a mystery novel, the plot was predictable. He sets his book down and glances around before seeing Roman. He hides a fond smile as he hears him giggle at something Remus says.

Janus has heard from the others about their…encounters with Roman. He’s very tempted to try something to get Roman to…show off a little. He looks around some more and spots the thermostat.

Hmm…

Janus then grins and nudges Virgil’s leg.

“Fuck off, Janus.” Virgil huffs without looking up.

“Okay but you’ll miss the show, my dear emo.”

Virgil pauses his game and looks over to Janus.

“What show?”

“Just wait and see.”

Janus then subtly waves his hand to turn up the heat on the thermostat. It takes a few moments but soon it’s starting to get warm. Patton and Logan hardly noticing, being used to the warmth of the Mindpalace. Virgil is used to sweating in his hoodie and Janus himself likes heat. Remus already runs warm so he doesn’t notice much change.

Soon it’s even more warm and Roman is feeling a little uncomfortable in his costume. He loves it and all but the thick material makes it hard to stay cool. It’s why he has a different costume for his Imagination trips. Sighing, Roman sets his pencil aside and stands up.

“Oh, it’s just so hot in here! Sweltering!” he huffs. “I apologize but a prince must shed his costume!”

Roman then waves his hand and he’s now shirtless again.

Janus smirks. Lovely.

“Holy shit…Nice one, Jan.” a flustered Virgil mutters beside him, fist bumping Janus.

Janus nods, enjoying the view.

“Very.”

Patton squeaks, adjusting the sleeves of his cardigan around his neck as his face reddens.

“O-Oh my goodness…”

Logan nods, fixing his glasses as he flusters.

“Quite…”

Meanwhile Remus glares and huffs.

“I hate all of you.”

No one replies, too busy staring at Roman who had decided to fan himself for the moment.

Remus glares more.

“Hey! Quit drooling all over him, you fucking weirdos!” he growls, not liking how they’re ogling his twin.

Sweet, oblivious Roman blinks.

“They’re not drooling all over me. That would feel gross, Ree.” he frowns, head tilted in innocence.

Remus resists the urge to smack the others or knock Roman out just to spare him.

“Don’t-Don’t worry too much about it, RoRo.” he sighs, getting up to go check the thermostat.

Roman just blinks again. The others sure have been acting weird lately and he wonders if Remus knows why. He won’t tell him though.

“Oh. Okay then. Wonder why they’re staring at me…”

Oh, if only Roman knew what they saw.

THE END

[itsawhumpsideblog]

The Safehouse, pt. 3

CW: for institutionalized slavery, mentions of abuse, treatment of people as things

Advice from the Box Boy Liberation Movement:

Meals present a particular challenge for new rescuees. They will likely have difficulty expressing preference or even recognizing when they have a preference. Thus, it may take time to learn what they like to eat or whether they have any allergies. While rescuees are learning to identify needs and express themselves, focus on preparing meals that will treat rescuees' nutritional deficiencies and expose them to a wide variety of flavor options. Every safehouse is stocked with epinepherine auto-injectors and other allergy medication in case of emergency.

As they started toward the kitchen, Angie realized that the rescuees had not stood to follow them. They were following along, sure enough, but on their knees. She winced- that couldn't be comfortable.

"Would you like to stand up?" she asked and then, before Francis had a chance to assure her that he would do as she wished, she said, "You're free to walk upright here."

Francis nodded and slid to his feet in a smooth, practiced motion. He lowered his shoulders and folded his hands behind his back, keeping his head down and his expression blank.

Their other rescuee looked like he was having more trouble and no wonder. Something was very wrong with his hands and he was holding his left arm cradled against his stomach as he tried unsuccessfully to get his feet under him.

"I'll help you," Tim said. "May I put my arm around you?" The rescuee nodded, but looked shy and uncomfortable. "I'll be gentle, don't worry," Tim added. He crouched down and put his arm around the boy's waist. "Can you put your right arm over my shoulders?" he asked. "You don't have to if it hurts."

The boy paused and then nodded and slid his arm around Tim's neck. He was clinging to Tim with his elbow and forearm, his hand limp, and he was still bent protectively over his left arm, as if he was afraid that Tim would jostle it.

Very slowly and carefully, Tim stood up and brought the rescuee with him. The boy didn't seem very steady on his feet; his knees didn't straighten out well and when they began walking, his steps were slow and halting, the movements of a person much older than he could possibly be.

"Are you out of practice?" Tim asked. "Don't worry, you can lean on me. We'll get you into the kitchen and you can sit down."

Angie smiled at all three of them. "If everyone is ready, let's go see the kitchen and get some lunch." She led the way, checking over her shoulder periodically to make sure they were following along and didn't need her help. It made her feel like a mother duck. Francis was behind her, still watching her heels. He walked very gingerly, like he needed to limp with both feet but couldn't. Tim and the other boy followed along, going at the rescuee's speed.

When they reached the table, Angie pulled out one of the chairs and Tim started to lower the rescuee into it. That was when they ran into difficulty. The boy started to look panicked and shake his head furiously. The closer Tim got him to the chair, the slower he moved and eventually he stopped walking altogether. He couldn't seem to bring himself to move away from Tim- or maybe he simply couldn't stand without help- but neither could he get any closer to the chair.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked. "You can sit there, it's okay with Angie and I. We want you to- it'll make it easier to get back up."

He shook his head again and his eyes were wide and afraid. Angie looked to Francis, who had finally raised his head to look around. His dark eyes were anxious.

"Pets are not permitted on the furniture," he said. Angie wondered if he was able to speak for himself at all, or if he could only parrot phrases he had learned in training.

"Even if the homeowners ask them to?" Angie pressed, being very careful not to upset him if she could help it. Today, they needed to make the rescuees comfortable. Helping them heal was long-game stuff.

Francis looked very awkward and not a little nervous. "Even with permission, it- it makes many pets uncomfortable, Mistress."

"Angie," she reminded him, trying not to insist. "Well, we won't force you, either of you. What are you comfortable with?"

"Pets may take a place on the floor, near the table if they are permitted," Francis recited.

"All right. Tim, you two hang tight for a minute. I'm going to get some pillows." The house was amply provided and Angie was back in just a moment with two pillows, the kind that were made for outdoor seating and had non-skid material underneath. This way the boys wouldn't have to balance and risk slipping.

She placed them down and offered Francis a hand. He did not take it, but sank down to his knees. She was gratified to see that his expression shifted just a little to one of pleasure and- was that relief? They had a lot to learn about these two.

Tim helped the other boy onto the second pillow and then straightened up. "Soup and sandwiches for lunch, do you think?" he asked.

Angie nodded. "We've got everything for a quick chicken noodle and some grilled cheese. Do you want to make the soup?" Tim was amenable and crossed the kitchen to open the refrigerator.

"Um," Francis interrupted nervously and they were focused so tightly on observing the boys for any sign of a need or desire that Tim and Angie both turned quickly to look at him. He blushed. "This pet can cook for you," he said. "He is trained and- it is his place to serve you."

"Don't you worry about that," Angie said, trying to sound breezy and unconcerned, as if the way he spoke didn't make her heart ache. "We'll take care of it for now. You just rest a little."

***

Francis bowed his head again and watched the strange people who had taken them in. He and the other pet- who didn't seem to have a name- had certainly landed themselves in odd circumstances. It felt very strange and very wrong to be watching the Master and Mistress work while the pets rested on comfortable cushions. Still, the smell of their soup and sandwiches was delicious and Francis dared to hope that there might be a crust for him, if they couldn't eat all that.

He was surprised when they set a plate and a bowl in front of him and another in front of the other pet. So surprised that he looked up, full into the face of his new Master and actually stared for a moment before remembering to drop his gaze. Still, he didn't touch the food.

"It's for you," the Master said, in a gentle voice that Francis thought he could either like or fear, depending on what kind of person this Master turned out to be. "Angie and I will sit at the table, and you know you're welcome to join us when you're ready."

Francis didn't believe this, but they did move their chairs so that they were sort of next to their Pets, as if they were sharing a meal. Glancing up at them in case they changed their minds, Francis took the bowl of soup and began to eat, quickly and neatly. People didn't like it when Pets made a mess, and he wanted to get the food down before the meal was over and he lost access to it. Who knew when he would eat again? Besides, the soup was steaming hot. Maybe it would help him feel warm again.

Next to Francis, the other Pet had started with the sandwich. He didn't seem to be able to use his left arm at all, which was going to make the soup challenging, but reached awkwardly out with the right and grasped the food in fingers that were stiff and probably painful. Looking at the cuts and bruises on his right hand made Francis wince.

After the soup, Francis ate his sandwich in the fewest bites he could politely manage and was relieved that he had gotten the whole meal down in time. He sat back a little and looked over at the other Pet. He was bent over the soup, still guarding his left arm, and fumbling with the spoon. He was going to spill and make a mess and then the people would be angry; Francis knew how people could be.

He shot a nervous look up at the Master and Mistress, who for some reason just smiled at him and were completely ignoring the impending disaster with the soup. But he knew what was going to happen. He could forestall disaster and they would be grateful and pleased, if they noticed.

Francis turned slightly to his right and took the bowl of soup from the other boy. He got a hurt look in return for his troubles, especially when he took the spoon, too. It wasn't hard. Those hands were in no shape to fight back.

Francis dipped the spoon into the bowl with a trembling hand- fear or weakness? he wondered- and lifted it to the other boy's lips. Now the look was one of great gratitude and Francis allowed himself to give the other boy a smile. He fed the boy the whole bowl of soup, spoonful by spoonful, until it was all gone. The boy wiped his face with one clumsy hand and smiled thanks at Francis.

When the meal was done their strange Master and Mistress insisted on cleaning up and when the Mistress said, "Why don't we show you the living room?" Francis stood to follow.

Next time: Francis cleans up and Tim and Angie begin getting to know him.

Master Post

[tj-crochets]

I’ve gotten a bunch of new followers recently, so I figured I should introduce myself! My name is TJ and I like to make things. I started out crocheting, but over the years I’ve learned knitting, sewing, doll furniture making, sewing, and most recently embroidery. I usually link to the pattern in the notes when I post finished projects if I use someone else’s patterns, but I do frequently make my own patterns and have shared a bunch of both sewing and crochet patterns for free! If there’s ever a pattern you want a link to and you can’t find it in the notes of the post, please let me know! More info below the read more

That said, the pattern for the crochet UFO music box is available here or as a kit here, and the lemon armadillo pattern is available here. The rainbow quilt in the picture is a free pattern called the Postcards from Sweden quilt, the floral quilt is a crumb quilt with no pattern, the embroidery I made up as I went, and I designed the patterns for all the sewn plushies in that top picture.  I mostly post about things I’m making, and I’d say more than half the time what I make is plushies? Some tags I use to make it easier for my followers to blacklist non-crochet/non-sewing posts include #tj cooks, #tj bakes, #the person behind the yarn, #tj talks about work, and several others I can’t think of at the moment lol. I have some health issues that are now (thankfully) mostly under control, but I have pretty severe, fairly odd allergies and have weird salt issues and talk about that sometimes. I also play a few instruments, and very occasionally will post snippets of me playing and singing. Please let me know if there are any tags you’d suggest I use for blacklisting; I try to be sure I tag clearly enough for anything that needs to be blacklisted to be caught by the filters, but I am not infallible

[numberonebidoofenjoyer]

📄 Whimsicott!!

…Confession time. I don’t actually know much? Ironic considering I’ve lived in Unova before. Driftveil City kids, feel free to interact, especially if your parents were involved in the exporting business.

Yankee.

Shut up. Anyhow, yeah, I really don’t know much about them. They’re Grass-Type, Fairy too I think, michevious …Roto?

Believe or not, I have a story about a Whimiscott, bzzt!

Around where I was raised, there was this Whimiscott that constantly used to ruin the hatchery, bzzt. It left cotton spores everywhere, and some of the workers had allergies, so they’d be sneezing all day! Or another time, it somehow moved all of the furniture on top of the house, bzzt!

That’s kinda funny though.

Not when you’re the one getting it off the roof. Anywayz, one day, they had enough, and so they set up this huge fan nearby. The Whimiscott came, about to start its usual tricks and they turned the fan on and blew it straight off its course, bzzt! All that was left behind was its giant cotton hair.

….Your ultimate revenge was making it bald.

What’s your point, bzzt.

….Nothing really. Wait, weren’t you hatched in Galar?

Born and raised, bzzt! <(˘ ˘ ˘)>

Yankee.

I’m going to electrocute you.

[mydrxm]

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[puddingvalkyrie]

The Midnight Oil Café

(Working title)

The girl walked in and looked around. It was pretty cosy in here;  bright, patterned curtains, chunky wooden furniture. Every table had a little vase of flowers and a candle. The light would fade soon, and she was surprised the café was open this late.

  “Sorry to come in so close to closing time,” she apologised. “How long do I have? I don’t want to get in your way...”

  “All night,” came the answer. The barista turned around and leaned on the counter. He flicked a strand of his curly, black fringe out of his dark brown eyes. “We’re open ‘til dawn.” He flashed her a smile. “What’ll it be?”

  “How much is your cheapest drink?” the girl asked. She looked around for a menu. There was a blackboard propped up on the counter, but it had no prices.

  “Oh, it doesn’t work like that,” the man gave her another smile, this time showing his teeth. They were pointed. “We give you a drink, you give us a drink.” He leaned on the counter with both elbows, chin in both hands. “How about it?”

  “Uh...”

  “NO. No!” came a loud objection from a room behind the counter. A woman wrapped in colourful shawls with a cloud of chestnut hair tied in a high ponytail emerged with her hands on her hips. “We said we’re not doing that!”

  “But the customers expect it!” the barista complained, standing back up.

  “Don’t be fooled,” the woman addressed the girl. She took the man’s chin in one hand while she pointed at him with the other. “He’s not a suave, sexy vampire, he’s a DISASTER.”

  “I can relate...” the girl said, before she could stop herself. “To the disaster part, at least...”

  “It’s free,” the woman said. “IF you want to become a blood donor, great, we’re looking. If you don’t, you don’t. The two things are unconnected. What’ll it be?”

  “It’s... It’s really free?”

  “100%.”

  “I’ll just take a mudleaf infusion please.”

  “You got any special dietary requirements?” the woman asked. “Allergies?”

  “No. Um, I’ve had mudleaf before... no issues.”

  The girl sat in a corner. The sun was setting. She’d known this place had vampires, but this wasn’t how they usually worked... They were supposed to fly around at night and if you had a thing for vampires or whatever possessed people to become donors, you stood on your balcony in the evening. As far as she was aware, they didn’t bring tea and crumpets to the occasion. Bit hard to carry, when you’re a bat.

  “There you go, honey.” The woman put down a mug brimming with tea and slid over a plate. “Sorry if you don’t like eggs. Or garlic. Or parsley. Or butter.”

  “I didn’t order food,” the girl protested.

  “You look like you need it.” The woman lit the candle, then walked away.

The girl looked at the gently steaming egg, drowning in green-flecked butter. It would go cold pretty quickly. Pessimism fought hunger, and hunger won. The egg was delicious. The place was open all night, huh? This corner had a sofa, and it had plenty blankets draped over it... would they notice if she slept? Wait. Maybe that was the plan. Get customers sleepy and...

  “You can sleep there if you want,” the barista told her, making her jump. “I’ll keep an eye on your stuff.”

  “I don’t, um, I don’t have any ‘stuff’.”  She shifted uncomfortably. “Can I... can I maybe wash dishes or, or something?” Maybe it was better to stay awake. Keep busy.

  “Are you looking for a job?” the man asked.

  “Yes,” the girl replied, an idea occuring. She’d meant to go further, but... they wouldn’t look for her here, surely? The job would be at night, she wouldn’t have to risk being seen. Was she really far enough away, though? She could stay a few days and then leave. “Just for a, a week, maybe?”

The two vampires shared a look. “What’s your name, honey?” asked the woman.

  “Amara,” she replied.

  “This is Taran and I’m Divina,” the woman replied. “If it means anything to you, he’s a Le Fanu and I’m a Stollenheim.”

 “Oh. Um." It rang a distant bell. There were only a few vampire families, and fewer successful ones. Their names came up in the paper occasionally. Not that she paid attention to world news. What did it matter to her? She did wish she’d paid a little more attention. “...Not really, no.”

  “No?” Taran scratched his head. “I suppose no news is good news.”

  “There’s not much to do right now, so if you want, you can sleep for a few hours,” Divina told her. “You need a place to stay?”

  “Yes, but... I’ll figure it out later.”

  “Like I said, you can sleep there,” Taran said. “We’re kind of expecting it. For people to need to sleep.”

  “This is new to us, too,” Divina explained, seeing Amara’s confusion.

  “We only just opened and no-one’s ever done this before. That we know of,” Taran added.

  “Why?” Amara asked. “Why a café?”

  “Balcony trawling’s not my style.” Taran wrinkled his nose.

  “We actually met balcony trawling,” Divina continued. “We’d both had a bad night, and after some bickering and venting...”

  “Why does EVERYONE expect a relationship?!” Taran exploded. “I just want to be friends! I need at least three active donors and I am NOT polyamorous! I’m not anything-amorous!”

  “I keep telling you, if you insist on doing the suave vampire act, people will think you’re hitting on them,” Divina told him.

“I’m not hitting on them, I’m just being, you know, cool?” Taran replied. “I’m a cool guy.”

  Divina laughed. “You are. But you have to stop doing that, hun. If you want the romantic advances to stop.”

  “Why didn’t, er, why didn’t you like it?” Amara asked Divina. “The balcony... balcony... patrolling?”

  “Similar reasons,” Divina replied. “Plus I just feel like there’s a better way. I need blood to live, others need food, why not do something about it?”

   “So, uh, the pay...” If she was going to do this, she better do it right.

  “We’ll give you room and board,” Divina replied. “Plus, say, 3 Crowns a day spending money? How’s that?”

 Amara blinked. She couldn’t possibly have heard that right. “For washing dishes a few hours a night?”

 “I’m sure you’ll be doing more than that,” Divina said.

  “Like?” Amara tried not to squeak.

  “Like getting us fresh ingredients, baking, serving customers,” Divina clarified. “I’ll write you up a contract. It’s quiet, so I can do it now.”

  “Nothing blood related, right?” Amara asked.

  “Oh, we can’t afford paid blood donors, honey,” Divina told her. “You gotta be royalty or near as damn it for that.”

  “Okay then,” Amara agreed. “Sorry I just... I already had one bad contract.”

  “Is that what you’re running from?” Taran asked.

  Amara hunched up. “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to pretend it doesn’t exist.”

  “What were we even talking about?” replied Taran obediently. “Divina?”

  “You were going to show Amara the kitchen and where we keep everything and what’s on the menu and everything else our new star employee needs to know,” Divina prompted.

  “I thought I was the star employee.” He pouted at her.

  “The nice thing about stars is, there’s more than one,” Divina pointed out.

   He held up a finger. “Ah, then I shall aim to be the moon, my dear Divina.”

  “This is exactly what I’m talking about.” She smiled and shook her head.

  “Follow me, follow me, follow the kitchen wizard.” Taran beckoned to Amara.

  “He’s never used a stove in his life, don’t listen to him,” Divina remarked.

  “Do you want me to show her the kitchen, or don’t you?” Taran shot back.

  “Yes, yes, go ahead,” Divina replied. “Work should be fun. I, meanwhile, shall be writing the contract.”

  “Sounds super fun. I am so jealous.” Taran replied.

  “The equipment doesn’t look that different than the kitchen at... at my old place,” Amara remarked, ducking under Taran’s arm and eyeing the place critically. It was a lot smaller, barely bigger than a domestic kitchen. “Can you really serve customers with this?”

  “We’re not exactly expecting a lot of customers,” Taran explained. “Not at first, anyway. I guess we’ll just adapt as we go along?”

  “Yeah...”

  “You worked in a kitchen before then?” he asked.

  “Y-yeah.”

  “It doesn’t exist, gotcha.” He drummed his fingers on his cheek. “What’s your favourite kind of cake, Amara?”

  “Um... ginger. The housekeeper used to make us this delicious apple and ginger cake, before, before she...”

  “Sorry, sorry.” Taran scratched his head. “Non-kitchen question. Uh. Favourite... drink? No. Favourite animal?”

  “We weren’t allowed pets,”-Taran winced-“but I loved to go to the woods and listen to the birds sing.”

  “Birds, huh?” His face lit up. “Then check this out!” It was as though she blinked, but Taran was gone and a little nightingale stood in his place. The bird fluttered up to the table and sang. The delightful warbling echoed around the whole kitchen.

  Another blink, and Taran was sat on the edge of the table.

  “We don’t do the bat thing in my family,” Taran explained. “Gran likes birds. I’m really sorry though, I really think that’s all I got before we have to talk about kitchens again.”

  “It’s alright.” Amara steeled herself. “I shouldn’t ask for a job in a kitchen if I don’t want to think about kitchens. So. Where’s the pantry? I saw sponge cake on the menu, but I don’t see any. I’ll make one. That’s, that’s alright isn’t it?”

  “You’re very observant,” Taran complimented her. “Go ahead. I’m sure Divina will be happy. We didn’t want to make much today while we gauge how much business we’re gonna have, so we’re deliberately low on non-drink items.”

 “And DONE,” Divina announced some minutes later, waving a piece of parchment triumphantly at the doorway.

  Taran nodded to Amara. “Go and look. I’ll finish this. It just needs to go in the oven until it’s golden brown, right?”

  It was a fair contract. Good, even? Suspiciously good. Room, board, 3 Crowns a day pocket money, all as Divina had said. She could leave any time without notice, and she would work no more than six hours a day, though she was required to be on call for longer than that; the time the cafe was open and a little before that. Of course the main catch was that the café was open late into the night. It opened at 8pn and closed at 2bn.

  She hesitated as she held the quill above the line. They wouldn’t find her here if she worked at night. Right? Room and board. Spending money. Not that she’d be spending it. She’d be saving it for an emergency. A different emergency, that is. She was already in an emergency. She could leave any time. She could leave ANY TIME. Her hand shook as she signed, giving her a wobbly signature.

  Taran emerged from the kitchen.

  “Divina. Divina, I have a newfound passion for baking.” He gestured to the finished cake on the table. “Why have I never tried baking before? It smells amazing. It looks amazing. I get to decorate it." He bit his lip. “I wanna make more cakes, Divina.”

  “We’ve got enough cake so I’m going to need you to find a newfound passion for soup,” Divina replied.

  “Will do.” Taran gave her a three fingered salute. “Newfound passion for soup in three, two... now!” He turned on his heel and disappeared back into the kitchen.

  “Do you need to sleep?” Divina asked Amara.

  “Should I not stay awake? To adjust my sleeping pattern?” Amara asked back.

  “Hmm. Yes, but... maybe not all at once? Go take a little nap. I’ll wake you in an hour or so.”

Amara stared at the ceiling of her new room. And it was genuinely her room. She’d never slept alone before. She’d always been in bunk beds and hammocks. In servants’ quarters. Or the orphanage. She doubted she’d be able to sleep, but she had walked all day. She wanted to sleep. What was this feeling? It wasn’t safety. She wouldn’t feel safe here. It wasn’t like the woods. They’d never found her in the woods. Not once. If she could’ve lived in the woods, she would have. She didn’t feel safe, but she didn’t feel threatened either. Neutral. She felt... neutral. That would do. But she also felt hungry and tired and she didn’t really know these people. Vampires, huh? They had nothing on the orphanage director. Nor the workhouse foreman, and definitely not Lord Branndil. At least vampires only wanted your blood.

  She tossed and turned, but it was no good. She went downstairs.

  “Can I buy some of the paint I saw in the kitchen?” she asked. “Black, white, brown, green? Perhaps yellow and blue? You can take it out of my wages.”

  “You don’t need to give up your wages,” Divina reassured her. “You paint too, huh? We sure got lucky. What do you want to paint?”

  “My room. It’s just so... beige.”

  Divina nodded approvingly. “It is, that. Paint away. Wait, though.” The vampire narrowed her eyes at the girl. “You eat, first. And you get another drink. If I’m right, that egg you had is all you’ve had all day.”

  “You are right.”

  “Here, sandwich.” Divina plucked a plate from the counter and thrust at Amara. “And cut yourself a slice of that cake you made.”

  Amara blinked. “Isn’t it for the customers?”

  “We have to eat too.” Divina shrugged. “Besides, what the customers don’t eat, we’ll have to eat the leftovers. Keep that in mind and don’t make too much. Speaking of which, can you check on Taran? He’s not left the kitchen since I saw you last and I didn’t want to leave the counter unmanned.”

  Amara found Taran with his nose inches from a book on the counter, with four different pots on the boil, and spices everywhere. He threw a good pinch of one herb in one pot then sprinkled a spice into another. He tasted a little of each. He added even more herbs.

  “Um. Divina said we mustn’t make too much,” Amara cautioned, her voice wobbling.

  “What? Oh. Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Try this, will you? I think it needs a little something.” Taran gestured to the first pot. I’ve been experimenting with different things but I just can’t quite get it how I want it.” Amara took a spoonful and blew on it. It tasted okay, but bland. “Try the others for me?” She tried one after the other. They all had slightly different flavour profiles but were still bland.

  “Did you ... add salt?” she asked.

  “The recipe didn’t say so, so no,” Taran admitted.

  “This recipe book is pretty old.” Amara picked it up and flipped it over. “The old ones don’t tell you to add salt, because they assumed everyone knew to do it.”

 “I’m not everyone, recipe book!” Taran stuck out his tongue at it.

  “It’s okay. Just add some now. Um, I’d also recommend adding some more onions and garlic.” Amara gave the pots a stir, bringing up the vegetables to inspect them. “It’ll probably be a mushier soup than you maybe wanted but it’ll be okay.”

  “I was going for max mush, so that’s not a problem.” Taran wiped his brow. “Big relief. I thought I’d wasted a whole day’s ingredients.”

  Amara sat and ate her sandwich. She made herself an infusion from the giant pot of clear water gently bubbling on the other side of the kitchen. She sipped the brew and let her tired eyes wander over the kitchen. Something was off.

  “How are you keeping these fires going?” she asked. “I don’t see any fuel.” There was the one under the hot water and the four little ones under the soup pots.

  “Magic,” Taran replied. “We need to find a better way if we can, though. The more magic I use, the more blood I need. I’ll go balcony trawling if I have to, but the point of this place, besides feeding people, was to NOT have to do that.”

  “How often do you have to?” she asked.

  “Once every two months, if I use barely any magic,” he answered. “More like once a month though.”

  “Oh. That’s a lot less than I though’,” Amara mused. Did she just slur a word?

  “How much did you think?” Taran asked, tilting his head to one side.

  “Every day? I don’t know. Jus’ a lo’ more.” She blinked her eyes repeatedly. Was the kitchen always blurry?

  “Only true vampires need that much,” Taran explained. “I’m a great grandson so my situation is much improved.”

  “Hmm.” Amara almost face planted into her drink.

  “Woah, maybe go to bed?” Taran suggested, diving forward to move her cup out of the way. “Don’t get a faceful of hot, scalding liquid.”

   “Couldn’ slee’,” Amara mumbled. “Can’ slee’. Maybe in th’ woodsss...” She saw Taran dart forward again before she blacked out.

Amara jerked awake. She was in bed. A strange room. Beige. So very beige. The sun was shining strongly through the open curtains. She sat up so fast her head spun. What happened? She’d run away in the night. Walked all day. All day, barely stopping. Came to a cafe. Cafe. Vampires. She’d asked for a job. Contract. Soup. Vampire making soup. She’d suddenly been incredibly sleepy. Incredibly sleepy. Vampires.

  Her hand shot to her neck. Nothing. She got up and inspected it in the small mirror hanging over the wash basin. Still nothing. She turned for the door and nearly tripped over a stack of tins. Paint. She’d asked for paint. There was a note.

  ‘I had to carry you upstairs, I hope that was okay?

  You’d fallen asleep on the table.

  It turns out SOMEONE can’t tell medicine herbs from cooking herbs and the soup got doused with sleeping nettles.

  Divina’

A second part was in different handwriting:

‘I am so sorry Amara. The offending herbs have been identified and removed from the kitchen. The offending person has been identified (it’s me) and removed from the kitchen (temporarily).

  Taran’

  “That explains that then. Hmm.” Amara stared at the note for a long time. Finally she blinked herself back to reality and turned her attention to the paint. They’d included a set of brushes and a couple of cups of clean water. Amara picked up a brush.

By the time Divina knocked on the door to check on her that evening, the walls were covered in trees.

 

----

First new thing I've written in some years! I need to edit my first draft of Zaran's book but like. I don't wanna.

This is also basically a first draft. I don't normally post things this fresh for other people to read but like... I wish to get something out there.

I know it's lacking in description especially.

[sammypersaud]

THE BASICS

Name: Samar Persaud.

Nicknames: Sammy, Sam.

Gender: cis Male, He/Him.

Occupation: Sanitation Worker (Garbage Man), Junk Builder.

Age: Thirty-Two.

Birthday: December 15th, 1992.

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius.

Location: Bighorn Hills, Providence Peak, Colorado.

Birthplace: Providence Peak, Colorado.

Orientation: Bisexual, Biromantic.

THE PHYSIQUE

Eye Color: Brown.

Natural Hair Color: Black.

Height: 6′ 0″.

Body Type: Muscular.

Allergies: None.

Dominant Hand: Right.

Tattoos: Probably some kind of dumb tattoo for @ingridlczano (still pending tho).

Piercings: None.

THE INTRODUCTION

Samar Persaud was lucky early in life; born to two loving parents in a single family home in a quiet neighborhood, with a tall tree overlooking their backyard where he spent hot summer evenings pretending to be a rock climber or a knight or an astronaut, feeling free to go as far as his dreams would take him, forever supported by his family. That luck, however, was short-lived when his dad found himself without a job when Sammy was just five years old. Suddenly, the tree that had held his dreams when he couldn’t carry them all turned into his reprieve from a household, spending every moment he could sitting up in its branches so he wouldn't have to be at home, a home broken by a system that had been a set up from the very start. Hours that passed by in the day soon became something he counted with the number of beer cans stacked up in the kitchen, able to spell michelob before he could even spell his own name. His mom attempted to pick the family back up with a part-time job, but it wasn’t enough to stop the once loving home from falling into disrepair, both emotionally and physically. When Samar was old enough, he learned how to use a hammer and a drill and fixed the things his father was too drunk to fix. His fixes weren't perfect and often cobbled together by other things he found laying around, materials he got for free after putting in some work under the table for local hardware stores, and items he found on the side of the road on trash day. Growing up with Ingrid Lozano was enough to keep his sanity. She was his safe place to land when his home grew too much to handle, she was the rock that never budged in his life, the stability he craved from a family that would never be able to give that to him again. They found exactly what they needed in each other, a semblance of a home they never had. Their friendship eventually bled into more and inevitably, they found themselves bouncing from on to off and back again over most arguments that never really meant a thing when it came down to it, yet both were too stubborn to knock it off. They knew a fight never meant forever though, their comfort in one another running far too deep to call their friendship quits. With her support and unsolicited opinions, he eventually purchased a few acres of land in Bighorn Hills with a house that needed more fixes than his childhood home did and a barn that was empty and full of promise, eventually something he filled with the treasures he would find on the side of the street, sitting out for free, during his early morning garbage shifts. He'd take anything he could find home, storing it until he found the right pieces to fit together, and creating something new out of it. He taught himself how to built, weld, and put together the tiniest, most confusing parts of virtually any machine. On Saturdays in the summer, he can be found at the farmer's market with a stall proudly displaying these secondhand pieces he managed to give a new life to.

THE HEADCANONS

Sam has one cat, a giant orange tabby named Poppy, who enjoys roaming his acres of land, will typically live inside during the winter, and will come and go through an open window in the summer. She enjoys lounging in the barn in her cat bed that he made for her while he's working on new furniture pieces. Unsure of what to do with acres of land and having no intention of becoming a farmer (yet), Samar planted a boatload of flowers across an acre and allows whoever to come pick their own flowers, offering a u-pick option or prepicked bouquets in a little stand near the entrance to the field. The only rule is to leave flowers for others and don't harm the bees that may be around the flowers. He still drives a messy, beaten up pick up truck from the early 2000s that used to be his dad's before the man became too far gone to drive it. He repairs it when it needs to be repaired, but it's generally been trusty for most of his life. This man collects vintage Coleman camping items like his life depends on it. Anytime he sees some on the side of the street, it's the holy grail for him. Sam cleans it up, restores whatever is necessary, and it gets to continue to live on during his camping trips. He plays the banjo. 100% serious. He found one on the side of street once with a bunch of free stuff, repaired and refurbished it, and now it's a gorgeous instrument that he plays around campfires and whenever someone asks to hear it (or doesn't, he's a unsolicited banjo player sorry in advance).

[srkpolymers]

Top 10 Benefits of Partnering with a Professional Cleaning Company in San Francisco 

Living in the city of San Francisco comes with its own set of unique challenges, especially when it comes to maintaining a clean and healthy living or working space.  

Between bustling city life, demanding careers, and the ever-present fog, finding the time and energy for thorough cleaning can feel like an uphill battle. This is where professional cleaning services in San Francisco come in, offering a multitude of benefits that go beyond just sparkling surfaces. 

Here are 10 compelling reasons why partnering with a professional cleaning company in San Francisco is a wise decision: 

1. Reclaim Your Time: 

San Francisco is a city that thrives on its fast pace and endless opportunities. However, this fast-paced environment often leaves residents with limited free time.  

By outsourcing your cleaning needs to a professional company, you can reclaim precious hours each week to focus on the things that truly matter to you, whether it's spending time with loved ones, pursuing hobbies, or simply unwinding after a long day. 

2. Enhance Your Health and Well-being: 

A clean environment goes a long way in promoting good health and well-being. Professional cleaners are equipped with the knowledge and tools to remove dust, allergens, and bacteria from your home or office, significantly reducing the risk of illnesses and allergies.  

This is especially beneficial for individuals with respiratory problems or young children who are more susceptible to germs. 

3. Boost Productivity and Focus: 

Working in a cluttered and unclean environment can have a detrimental effect on your focus and productivity.  

Professional cleaning services can ensure your workspace is organized, tidy, and free of distractions, allowing you to work more efficiently and achieve your goals with greater ease. 

"A clean environment fosters productivity and peace of mind."

4. Make a Great First Impression: 

Whether you're hosting clients at your office or welcoming guests into your home, a clean and well-maintained space creates a positive and lasting impression.  

Professional cleaning services can ensure your space always looks its best, reflecting your professionalism and attention to detail. 

5. Extend the Lifespan of Your Belongings: 

Regular cleaning by professionals not only removes dirt and grime but also helps extend the lifespan of your carpets, furniture, and other household items.  

By employing proper cleaning techniques and high-quality products, professional cleaners can prevent dust and dirt buildup from causing premature wear and tear, saving you money on replacements in the long run. 

6. Enjoy Peace of Mind: 

Knowing that your cleaning needs are taken care of by a reliable and trustworthy company can provide immense peace of mind.  

You can rest assured that your home or office will be cleaned thoroughly and professionally, allowing you to focus on other aspects of your life without worry. 

7. Benefit from Expertise and Experience: 

Professional cleaning companies employ trained and experienced staff with the knowledge and expertise to tackle various cleaning challenges.  

They are equipped with the necessary tools and equipment to handle specific cleaning needs, from deep cleaning carpets and upholstery to sanitizing high-touch surfaces. 

8. Save Money in the Long Run: 

While the initial cost of hiring a professional cleaning service may seem like an added expense, it can save you money in the long term. Professional cleaners use high-quality, concentrated cleaning products that last longer and are more efficient than store-bought solutions. Additionally, their expertise helps prevent damage to your belongings, saving you from costly replacements. 

9. Support Local Businesses: 

Choosing a local professional cleaning company like All-Ways Green Services allows you to support the growth and development of your community. Local companies are often more invested in providing exceptional customer service and building long-term relationships with their clients. 

10. Enjoy Eco-Friendly Cleaning: 

Many professional cleaning companies in the Bay Area, including All-Ways Green Services, prioritize using eco-friendly cleaning products and practices. This not only protects your health and the environment but also promotes a sustainable future for San Francisco and the Bay Area as a whole. 

Frequently Asked Questions: 

Q: Why should we partner with a professional cleaning company?  

A: Professional cleaning companies offer high-quality services tailored to our needs, saving us time and money. 

Q: How do they ensure quality cleaning?  

A: They have trained staff and use proper techniques and equipment for effective cleaning. 

Q: Can they save us time?  

A: Yes, outsourcing cleaning tasks frees up time for us to focus on important activities. 

Why Choose All-Ways Green Services as Your Trusted Cleaning Partner in San Francisco? 

At All-Ways Green Services, we understand the unique challenges and needs of residents and businesses. We are a dedicated and experienced team committed to providing exceptional cleaning services in San Francisco with a focus on eco-friendly practices. 

Contact All-Ways Green Services Today! 

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Angel of God, My Guardian Dear Chapter 8: Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: While speaking at a local school for visually impaired youth, Matt runs into his childhood best friend, with whom he lost touch almost 20 years prior.

Warnings/Tags: None.

Word Count: ~2,600

A/N: Time for Matt to meet Aunt Ruth!

"Do these still look okay?" Matt asked as he and Y/N stepped off the plane in Miami and headed down the jetway toward Arrivals three weeks later.

Y/N eyed the bouquet of white roses Matt had bought in New York and brought on the plane with them, then nodded. "Yeah, they still look perfect."

Matt breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness."

Y/N shook her head. "You okay? I don't think I've ever seen you so nervous before."

Matt huffed out a breath. "I'm meeting the closest thing you have to a parent in person for the first time, so it's important that I make a good first impression… especially since her last first impression of me wasn't all that favorable."

Y/N shook her head. "Hey now, that was not your fault. Aunt Ruth knows that Sister Bernadette had just had it out for you and did whatever she could to keep us apart."

"Yeah, but--"

"But nothing." Y/N took his free hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I promise it'll be okay. Besides, I have a feeling that Aunt Ruth is more focused on making a good first impression on you than your first impression on her."

She smiled to herself. Aunt Ruth had asked her over the past few weeks about Matt's culinary preferences, if he had any food allergies, what his beverages of choice were, what kind of coffee he liked and did he drink tea, and if she was sure Matt would be okay with the restaurant they were going to for dinner on Saturday. And on top of all that, she had informed Y/N the day before that she had had the furniture in the guest room rearranged to make it more open and accessible.

Matt squeezed her hand back. "I certainly hope so. I want her to like me."

"She will, sweetheart. Trust me." Y/N stopped to look at the Arrivals board. "Let's see… our bags are in Terminal B. This way."

She led Matt down to baggage claim, pulling out her phone as it chimed with a text message. "Aunt Ruth's here and will meet us in the lobby."

Matt nodded, looking a tiny bit calmer. "Okay."

"And she wants to know if you're okay with pizza for dinner. There's this local place near the house that's definitely not the pizza at home, but is still pretty good."

Matt smiled. "Yeah, that sounds fine."

Y/N nodded. "Okay, great." 

She typed out a reply to Aunt Ruth. Pizza sounds great, and Matt will be fine with our usual. We're waiting on our bags, see you soon!

She put her phone away as the luggage carousel began moving.

Luckily their bags were among the first ones out, so Y/N grabbed Matt's, then hers.

She wheeled Matt's over to him. "Here you go, sweetheart."

Matt gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, angel."

Y/N wrapped her free hand around his arm. "Ready?"

Matt took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

They made the short walk from baggage claim to the lobby, and as they rounded the corner Y/N saw Aunt Ruth's face light up with a smile.

Y/N led Matt over to her, briefly letting go of him so she could greet Aunt Ruth.

Aunt Ruth wrapped her arms around Y/N in a hug. "Y/N, it's so good to see you, sweetheart."

Y/N hugged Aunt Ruth back. "It's good to see you too, Aunt Ruth."

Aunt Ruth turned to Matt. "And Matt, hello. I'm very glad you came."

Matt smiled and nodded back at her. "Thank you. I appreciate the invitation."

He held the bouquet of roses out towards her. "These are for you. Y/N said white roses were your favorite."

Aunt Ruth's smile grew wider. "Oh my goodness, yes, they are. These are beautiful, thank you so much."

She raised the bouquet to her nose and took a deep breath. "That was so sweet of you, Matt. I can't wait to get these home and into a vase." 

She gestured towards the exit. "Got everything?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

She took Matt's arm once again and followed Aunt Ruth out to her car.

"So, how was the flight?" Aunt Ruth asked as they made their way to the short-term parking lot.

"It was fine," Y/N replied. "Matt and I listened to an audiobook together, so it felt like it went pretty quickly."

"That's good." Aunt Ruth unlocked her car and opened the trunk. "So, Matt, I'm sure you and Y/N are both tired from working all day then having to travel, so I thought we could all just take it easy tonight, have some dinner then turn in early. Y/N said you were okay with pizza?"

Matt nodded as he put his and Y/N's bags in the trunk. "Yes ma'am, that's fine."

Y/N grinned. "I told him it's not New York style, but it was still good."

Aunt Ruth chuckled as she closed the trunk and they climbed into the car. "Don't let Giovanni hear you say that. He'd start in on his speech about how New York style pizza is basically 'paper with toppings'."

"Hey, at least it isn't deep dish, otherwise you might as well be eating breadsticks at that point. You're supposed to be able to fold your pizza."

Aunt Ruth backed out of the parking spot and headed for the exit. "I do agree with you about the deep dish."

Y/N took Matt's hand. "No one had pizza quite like Antonelli's though, right, Matty?"

Matt grinned and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. "Right."

Aunt Ruth turned onto the highway. "Isn't that the place you said you two used to go to, Y/N?"

Y/N nodded. "When I moved back to New York I was so disappointed to find out that it had closed down."

"Yeah, it was a shame," Matt added. "52 years in the same location and one day the owner of the building just up and decides to sell it to a developer."

"I'm surprised it didn't relocate. Antonelli's was a staple of Hell's Kitchen."

Matt shook his head. "Mr. Antonelli said that he had been thinking about retiring anyway in order to spend more time with his grandkids, so it just wasn't worth trying to reopen in a new location since his son wasn't going to be taking over the business."

Y/N sighed. "I wish we could've gone there together one more time before it closed."

Matt gave her hand a squeeze. "Me too, but at least we have all the memories of eating there together as kids."

"Yeah." Y/N smiled. She and Matt had had a tradition of celebrating what they had called their "Friendiversary" by going to Antonelli's for pizza and sodas. "Mr. Antonelli was the best."

Matt nodded with a grin. "He really was."

They continued the small talk all the way to the pizza parlor.

"Okay," Aunt Ruth said as she pulled in and parked. "I'll be just a minute."

"Okay," Y/N replied.

She turned to Matt as Aunt Ruth got out of the car and headed inside. "You doing okay?"

Matt smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Good." Y/N reached over and patted Matt's knee. "Oh, by the way, I transcribed the menu for the restaurant we're going to tomorrow into Braille for you, so don't let me forget to bring it with us."

A soft smile spread over Matt's face. "You are so incredibly thoughtful."

He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss. "Thanks, angel."

Y/N shook her head as her heart fluttered. "It's no problem, Matty, really."

"Okay," Aunt Ruth said as she returned to the car and moved her flowers to the middle console before setting the pizza on the passenger seat. "All set."

Y/N took Matt's hand once again as they headed back to Aunt Ruth's house.

Aunt Ruth lived in a moderately-sized, 1-story brick house in a quiet, 1-street neighborhood populated mostly by newlyweds and empty-nesters. Y/N had missed having people her own age to talk to when she had first moved to Florida (or actually, she had mostly just missed Matt) but now she appreciated the quiet. 

Aunt Ruth parked in her garage. "Y/N, if you'll get the door and show Matt around I'll get your bags."

Y/N nodded and took the keys from her. "Okay. Thanks, Aunt Ruth."

She took Matt's hand and led him to the door, pausing to open it before stepping inside. "There's a small step up here."

Matt nodded and followed her into the house. 

Y/N looked around Aunt Ruth's kitchen. The house had been updated and remodeled right before she had moved back to New York but still held the homey feeling Y/N had come to associate with it over the years. "Here, let me give you the grand tour before we eat."

Matt grinned. "Okay."

Y/N led Matt around the kitchen. "So this is the kitchen. Over here is the pantry, refrigerator, coffee bar, stovetop and oven, and sink."

She stopped in front of the coffee bar. "Aunt Ruth used to have a built-in oven but took it out when she remodeled and converted the space into a coffee bar. Her Keurig and coffee pods and stuff are all right here if you want a cup, but she's also got a full-size coffee pot over there on the counter that she uses when she has company."

Matt trailed his fingertips over the items in the coffee bar and nodded. "Good to know."

Y/N then led him around the counter. "And this is the dining room. Table is over here by the wall and there's a wine fridge right next to the doorway into the living room."

"Got it."

"Alright, so right when you walk into the living room to your right is a cabinet where Aunt Ruth keeps her DVDs and next to that is a sofa, but if you take about 3 steps then turn to your left you're in front of the hallway. Your room will be straight ahead, Aunt Ruth's room is to the left of that, and I'm next door to you on the right. Bathroom is straight down at the end of the hall next to my room, and the hall closet is right in-between our rooms, but on the right wall."

She took him around his room then showed him where everything was in the guest bathroom. "Okay, and that's it."

Matt nodded. "Got it."

They headed back into the dining room. "What do you want to drink?" Y/N asked, grabbing a few paper plates from the storage cabinet. "We have beer, wine, soda, water…"

"Oh, uh, whatever you're having is fine," Matt replied.

Y/N grabbed three bottles of beer from the refrigerator. "Beer it is then."

She popped the tops and set one down in front of Matt. "Here you go, sweetheart."

"Thanks, angel."

Y/N grabbed a couple of slices of pizza for herself and Matt as Aunt Ruth came back into the dining room.

They ate dinner together while Matt answered a few more questions from Aunt Ruth about his life and work.

"So what made you decide to study law?" Aunt Ruth asked as they were finishing up.  

"I want to fight injustice," Matt replied. "Help the innocent. I've witnessed too many bad things happen to good people to just sit around and not at least try to fight for what's right."

Y/N smiled to herself. Matt had given a very similar answer when she had asked him why he had decided to become Daredevil.

Aunt Ruth nodded, looking pleased with Matt's answer. "That's very noble of you."

Matt shrugged. "It's a tough job, but it's very rewarding."

"And he's very good at it, too," YN added. "He's a hero, sometimes even literally saving lives."

Matt grinned, catching on to her double meaning. "I wouldn't necessarily say hero, per se."

Y/N shook her head. "You are to the people you help."

She reached over and patted Matt's knee before standing. "Here, I'll handle cleanup."

Matt stood as well. "I'll help."

Y/N shook her head. "Nah, I've got it, sweetheart."

Matt hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. It'll take me two seconds to get this picked up. Why don't you go ahead and take a shower, get settled in?"

Matt nodded. "Okay then."

Y/N pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "Love you."

"Love you too."

"Good night, Matt," Aunt Ruth said. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you, I will," Matt replied. "Good night."

As Matt headed to his room, Y/N brought the leftover pizza over to the counter to transfer into a container.

Aunt Ruth grabbed their empty beer bottles and put them in the recycling bin, then sat across from Y/N. "I think this is the happiest I've ever seen you," she said with a soft smile.

Y/N grinned, then nodded. "Matt's… God, he's everything I have ever wanted, Aunt Ruth. He's so loving and kind and thoughtful and sweet, and even though we've both grown up and matured over the years I can still see the boy I fell in love with so many years ago."

She shook her head with a smile. "He has every right to be angry at the world, but instead here he is trying to make it a better place."

Aunt Ruth let out a light laugh. "I have a feeling you might have had a little something to do with that, my dear, just like he did for you."

She patted Y/N on the hand. "I'm gonna head off to bed. Good night."

Y/N bit her lip. "Aunt Ruth?"

Aunt Ruth paused as she got up. "Yes?"

"Thank you for giving Matt a chance."

Aunt Ruth nodded again. "All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy, Y/N. I truly am glad that you found him again." 

She walked around the counter and gave Y/N a hug. "Love suits you, by the way. It's nice to see you so content."

Y/N smiled. "Thank you."

"Good night. See you in the morning."

"Good night."

Y/N put the leftovers in the refrigerator and headed to her room to unpack, the sound of Matt humming in the shower making her smile once again.

She had finished unpacking and was sitting on her bed reading a book when she heard the shower shut off, then a few minutes later the bathroom door opened. 

Matt stopped in Y/N's doorway, drying his hair with a towel. "Your aunt head to bed?"

"Mmhmm." Y/N set her book down. "Come sit with me for a minute?"

Matt walked over and sat, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Y/N leaned against him, breathing in Matt's familiar scent. "So, how much of that did you hear?"

Matt smiled softly. "Enough to tell you that you're everything I've ever wanted too."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I love you."

Y/N hummed happily. "I love you too." 

"I should be getting to bed, but I'll see you in the morning?"

Y/N nodded. "Mmhmm. 'Night, Matty."

Matt stood. "Good night, angel. Sweet dreams."

Y/N waited until Matt's door had closed then went to take a quick shower of her own before settling into bed, smiling to herself as she drifted off to sleep.

[turtlemagnum]

gun rant;

i think where pretty much all gun control falls short for me is that since even most pro-gun politicians don't know jack shit about guns, no meaningful change happens in either direction. anti-gunners want to regulate shit that literally doesn't matter like what calibers you can get and bullshit like what kind of stock you have (fun fact: the buttstock has literally no impact on ballistics and you can kill a human being with literally every regulated caliber in current production). meanwhile pro-gun politicians only grandstand about shit without actually giving a shit one way or another, you see them pose with guns like someone with a cat allergy being forced to hold a wet, stinky cat. they give unequivocal support and obstruction that prevents literally anything meaningful from happening without actually knowing shit about it other than that their voter base supports it. and the opposite problem exists for the same reason, most libshit centrists don't know an AR from an M14 with black furniture and couldn't tell you the difference between semi-auto and full auto, so why should the politicians care? all they know is that black rifles are scary and drum up voters, actual logic and knowledge be damned.

i absolutely think that if any gun control should be enacted, it should be limiting who's allowed to get guns rather than banning the guns themselves. in theory, i'm not against gun licenses, but historically it's been shown that a gun license is a slippery slope to banning arbitrary bullshit. and yeah, some kinds of firearms should require extra training, but i think that any amount of licensing should require training by a professional; especially if that training is free. i genuinely think that every responsible adult should be able to own a gun, but i think that should require actual knowledge and responsibility, and i think that paywalling that is fucking classist. and yes, i think that machineguns should be legal to own if you have the proper training for it, no extra taxes or fees required.

and to be clear, i think that there should be some amount of gun control. i just think that most neoliberal shitdicks don't know enough to effectively regulate shit from fuck, so i'm not in support of literally any mainstream form of gun control i've seen; at least here in the states. from what i've seen, switzerland probably has the right of it? iirc comparably high levels of gun ownership to the US but almost no gun crime. and while i'm absolutely not in support of compulsory military service, ESPECIALLY here in the states, i think that switzerland's gun laws at the very least have shown a damn good amount of success relative to the rest of the world.

[termitetreatmentlive]

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