#I pick coffees to drink based on flavour alone

[sistersorrow]

Science side of Tumblr, explain to me why caffeine either does jack diddly fuck all for me energywise or makes me sleepy

[cornley-amateur-drama-society]

How Cornley Cast Members Spent Their 25th Birthdays

In honour of my 25th birthday being last week (10/24), here's my headcanons for how the Cornley members spent theirs. As this is me we're talking about, this got. Long. Also, I don't know the ins and outs of each character's canon besides what I picked up on in the show and on their character wikis, so please go through this with an open mind.

Chris — March 7

Oh… Oh, my love…

So he would've been recently out of uni, and I picture him immediately diving into any sort of theatre production he can

So, he's working at a local theatre just outside Cornley

(But nowhere near his home village because he doesn't want to deal with the complex feelings that accompany being an adult in and of his own right, but having Celia and Raymond treating him like he can't make his own decisions as if he's still thirteen-years-old)

But anyway. Back to his 25th, which I picture him being born sometime in the late winter/early spring, perhaps around the beginning of March. So for flavour, let's agree on March 7th.

It's, let's say, around ten or eleven at night, and it's been drizzling on and off the entire week (I am not fact-checking British weather for this post) and he's off rehearsal and had been planning on going out with some cast mates to a pub near the theatre.

When it came time to go, however, they were nowhere to be found.

Picture newly twenty-five-year-old Chris looking around the front foyer of the theatre, in his slightly too-big tweed coat and leather messenger bag thrown across his body. His hands gripping at the strap of the bag nervously as he waits to see if anyone will be arriving, and the gnawing realisation that no one is coming.

His eyes sticking to the floor as he walks to the pub himself, the rain more of a mist than anything else. He got there and picked a small table away from everybody else, and ordered a pint to start.

The rest of the night continued in that way, Chris getting pissed alone in the back of some random pub on his birthday.

He didn't get back to his flat until some time after two a.m., and passed out on the sofa, messenger bag on the floor with the strap loosely in his hand.

The contents were strewn about on accident, a result of his drunken struggle with his bag.

Robert — August 24

Robert's twenty-fifth was spent with his older brother Alex and younger sister Ellie.

Alex's wife Gabi, and their daughter Lucy, were away on a small holiday to Brighton and couldn't make it.

Despite their best efforts, Ellie managed to get her older brothers to go out for a pub crawl to celebrate.

In the middle of August, on a warm night, the Grove siblings went from pub to pub in Ellie's uni town.

The fourth pub they hit, called the Dog and Broom or something similar, is where he met Denise.

She was there on a hen do for a friend of hers she worked with at a small magazine.

Robert was instantly smitten with her, the way her black hair reflected the purple and pink and blue lights of the pub, the way her dark red lipstick stood out against the light brown of her skin.

He hated to admit it to himself, but he knew if he didn't talk to her, he would be thinking about it for the rest of his life. (Ugh, how dreadfully romantic of it all.)

So he pat his siblings on the shoulder and pushed away from the bar top to walk to where she was standing, waiting for refills for the group with another friend.

The two women looked up as he approached, and when blue eyes met dark brown, everything disappeared. (Cliché, I know) He vaguely remembers hearing her friend laughingly say something as she walked away with a tray of drinks, but Denise was already biting her lip in a shy smile, so he was a bit preoccupied.

(I cannot not believe that Robert isn't a secret romantic, esp based on how he broke down on stage during “The Spirit of Christmas”.)

The remaining hours of Robert's twenty-fifth were spent in flirtatious conversation with Denise and a promise of a coffee date later that week.

Dennis — May 2

Dennis' twenty-fifth was spent at the aquarium with some friends of his that he's known since Year Four.

They paraded him around the aquarium with a novelty “happy birthday” fish hat that they'd found somewhere specifically for this.

He was all for it, if we're going to be completely honest.

And the staff, for the most part, were happy to let them walk around with the obnoxious hat and homemade banner strung across his chest.

Dennis and his friends took enough pictures that when they developed them a few days later, even though they binned the rubbish ones, they had enough pictures left over for the scrapbook his Mum and Aunt Dorothy were making.

(This was not the first one they were doing for him, but as he'd got older, it really focused more on things like his graduation and shows and birthdays. It was nowhere near as detailed as his first few were when he was a boy.)

After their outing, they went to a birthday dinner at a restaurant that Dennis had been saying he wanted to go to, but had never had the time.

They had pre-arranged for there to be a whole song and dance, literally, when the server would bring the cake out at the end of the meal.

Dennis ended up leaving the restaurant with his friends and the phone number of one of the servers in his pocket.

(He and Emma would go on to date for about six months after, breaking up just after Hallowe'en.)

Sandra — March 7

So, she and Chris share a birthday.

(I'm sure you can tell where this is heading…)

She and Chris were in the same company, but she had a larger part in this show than he did, and the two of them really didn't have any scenes together, so they just knew each other in passing.

(The same way you know someone in one of your classes, but have only talked to them in group discussions, and even then, not that much, really.)

But she, being Sandra, is a magnetic person and knows how to work a room.

And even though she didn't have a lead role, she still got on with the leading cast members.

So much so that, when they found out it was her birthday a few days before, they promised to take her out after rehearsals.

I don't think that she's cruel enough, even as a mid-twenty-year-old, to have let the cast take her out if she'd known that they promised to go out with Chris, so she didn't know about any of it. Not even that they're birthday buddies.

She didn't notice the cloud of guilt that hung over some of the cast members as they walked to a bar on the north end of Cornley square, a bit more high-end for their budget, but hey. You only turn twenty-five once, right?

She's just flush with excitement about going out, since the last few years she'd been too busy and focused with/on other things. She had mainly celebrated her birthday with a friend or two, or whomever she was roommates with at the time, by drinking some wine and re-watching movies like Pride & Prejudice (2005) or The Importance of Being Earnest (2002).

Once they got there, a posher place called The Thistle's Roundel, the cast promised Sandra that she wouldn't be paying for a drink tonight. They had her covered.

She was touched, though she didn't take outright advantage of their promise. After all, they still had rehearsal tomorrow and the last thing she needed was a hangover.

But she's not a saint, so she did indulge a little in the drinking.

There was dance music being played by a live DJ, and a space in the middle with coloured, light-up tiles to comprise a dance floor.

She and several of the other gals in the show spent quite a lot of time on it, laughing about how the blues and greens of the floor would make them look haunted, but the oranges and pinks made them look sunburnt.

It was on one of her water breaks that she made eye contact with a guy a few seats away from where she was standing by the bar.

He wasn't drop-dead fit like Hugh Grant or Jude Law, but there was something about his smile that made her cheeks flush pink for a reason other than her dancing.

After a few minutes of glances and coy smiles, he made his way over to her, breaking away from the two men that he was with.

She sat her water down on the bright purple napkin and subtly wiped her hand on her skirt, drying it off from the condensation and sweat.

Once he made it, he stuck out a hand with a smile. “I'm Jonathan.”

She took it, a matching smile blooming on her face. “Sandra.”

Annie — November 24

Annie spent her 25th with her partner, Sher; her older sister, Alice; and Alice's partner, Bren, along with their parents.

Mr. and Mrs. Twilloil took the four of them to an ice skating version of the ever-classic The Nutcracker.

It has been a tradition for the Twilloils to go see a performance of The Nutcracker every year around Christmastime. When the sisters were little, they took part in community ballet classes, which is why the tradition was started.

(Mrs. Amita Twilloil would've taken them regardless of them being in ballet or not. She adored Tchaikovsky's music, and was a professional ballet dancer when she was younger.)

(Alice was dancing in the role of a Snowflake for three years in a row, and Annie was a Sugarplum Fairy once.)

Annie had been dating Sher for a little over two years by that point, the two of them having met in an improv class a few years before, and started a solid friendship.

Sher, actually, was the one who introduced Alice and Bren on a blind date.

But, I digress. Back to the birthday celly, lol

The Nutcracker on Ice was something that everyone was looking forward to. Everyone all bundled up in their coats and scarves and gloves, huddling togerther against the rail of the outdoor ice skating rink.

Hot chocolate vendors hovered at the edges of the crowd, selling spiced nuts and baked sweet potatoes as well.

The sounds of the crowd while the orchestra warmed up gave the Twilloils and their guests the warm feeling of Christmas in their hearts.

Annie ended the night of her 25th with a snog under multicoloured fairy lights decorating one of the lampposts along the pavement.

Max — June 15

Max spent his 25th on his family's country estate with his family, cousins and nieces and nephews running about over the Bennett grounds.

Because the Bennett family is so large, they have a tradition of celebrating all the birthdays of a given month at the beginning of that month.

(This tradition started with Max's great-grandmother after the War. It eased her mind to have all the family with her after the loss of her husband and eldest two sons.)

Other than himself, the month of June in the Bennett family had the birthdays of Aunt Elsie who was celebrating her 67th; Uncle Joseph who was celebrating his 56th; Margot, his older cousin who was celebrating her 34th; Adelaide, his younger cousin who was celebrating her 22nd; Marcus, another younger cousin who was celebrating his 18th; and the twins June and May, his nieces, who were celebrating their 12th.

The day was spent with various events around the estate, such as the younger kids playing around in the swingset and fort setup, and some of the teenagers taking the horses for a ride.

The older members of the family sat under the shaded patio with their spouses (if they were present), drinking tea and other, potentially more alcoholic, drinks.

Those Bennetts who were in their twenties through forties were found in various places throughout the estate. Several were with the younger kids; these Bennetts were the parents of some of the children there.

Others joined in on horseback riding, taking one of the trails with a drink as well. These brave members were almost all in their late-thirties and in their forties.

Max hung out with his siblings—Hugh, his older brother by three years, and Caroline, his older sister by two years. They were also joined by Adelaide and Marcus, and Jax, Hugh's eight-month-old son.

The day ended with a large birthday cake with everyone's names for the month of June, and a tonne of presents and cards that were opened and gushed over.

His Nana Claire owned the Bennett Estate, and since it was so large, everyone was able to stay the night there in the country, if they were so able.

Max's Uncle Charles (40), Aunt Angela (53), cousin Algernon (32), and cousin Nikki (24) were unable to stay as they had early shifts at the hospital in the morning.

All in all, it was a typical Bennett birthday event, and Max was content to be celebrating with everyone.

Trevor — September 2

Trevor hated his birthday.

Hated celebrating it, hated being reminded of it, hated everything about it.

Every year, something seemed to go wrong on his birthday.

He broke his arm when he turned 12. His girlfriend at the time turned out to be cheating on him with some posh prick in the Year above who played rugby, and he found out when he saw them kissing behind the bleachers at the pitch on his 15th. His Grandad passed away on his 18th. He found out he was supposed to be a twin on his 23rd.

And those were just the ones that sprung to mind instantly when he thought about September 2nd.

So, suffice to say, Trevor rarely ever discussed his birthday with anyone who didn't already know it.

He was already involved in Cornley's stage crew program at this point, and had been working with the theatre since he was old enough to.

He liked to work with his hands, but he also loved learning the ins and outs of how a theatre worked. Especially the lighting tracks and cues.

This past year, he had been working as an unofficial assistant to the Lighting Manager, an old man named Ralph who reminded him of his Grandad in a way.

The show that they were working on was for the Children's Theatre Program, a stage version of Frog and Toad.

Opening night was September 2nd.

When Trev got to the theatre, he found out that Ralph had called-in sick.

(He wasn't, really, but his granddaughter was in the show, and he wanted to be able to watch little Izzy on stage without having to worry about timing things right.)

So, Trevor was promoted on the spot that night to Lighting Manager.

He took to it like a duck takes to water, helped on, of course, by the fact that he'd been learning the cues now for several weeks.

Though he was slightly nervous, the show went off with only a few minor hitches that were more to do with the kids being kids and waving to their parents whilst on stage, or getting their costumes caught on props, than anything serious.

There was a standing ovation for the kids, and Trevor found himself genuinely smiling and cheering them on from the booth. The Sound Manager, Missy, next to him was gushing over her son's titular performance as Toad.

After curtain call, as Trevor was cleaning up the booth and making sure things were set for the Saturday showings, Ralph came back and introduced little Izzy to him.

Izzy glowed at Trevor's review of her roles as Cattail #3 and Egret #2, her frizzy red hair only making her blush that much more vibrant.

On their way to the rest of their family, Ralph and Izzy stopped and gave Trevor a dark blue envelope, his name written on it in Ralph's hand in silver ink.

Ralph winked at him and touched the side of his nose, wishing Trevor a goodnight, and he and Izzy disappeared into the crowd.

Trevor had a small, slightly confused frown on his face, but he opened the envelope on the spot.

Inside, there was a "happy birthday" card that was signed by the rest of the crew and Izzy. Little frogs and toads and other show related doodles appeared in various spots of the card throughout. Some were obviously done by the wee girl, but others he recognized as being done by his fellow crewmates.

It's still on display in Trevor's flat to this day.

Vanessa — October 31

Hallowe'en baby!!! We love to see it <333

Soz, the favouritism LEAPED out of me, lmao.

I know Hallowe'en isn't as big a deal across the pond, but this is my headcanon so fuck it, we ball <3

Nessa spent the morning of her 25th chaperoning her niece Alyson's class Hallowe'en party at school.

Aly insisted her Auntie Nessie dressed up as the Loch Ness monster, and since Aly was eight, she won the argument.

Nessa showed up at Aly's Primary school at the same time as the other chaperones, slightly embarrassed about the stuffed felt head on top of her own head.

That lasted until she saw Aly's friend's Mum wearing what looked like the child of a clown and old French mime.

The combination of black and white colouring on a clownfit did a lot to help her mood.

Aly greeting her with a delighted scream of, "AUNTIE NESSIE!" while wearing a mini scuba diver outfit lifted it even more.

The party at the school was fun, all things considered.

The Primary teacher for Aly's class, Mr. Thoms, had arranged for the kids to decorate Jack-O-Lantern cookies as one of the classroom activities.

Aly suckered her Auntie into helping her decorate, making a winking Jack-O-Lantern with a sharp-toothed smile.

After that, the Primary school had a trick-r-treat event in which all the kids got to walk around from classroom to classroom to get candy and show off their costumes. Nessa took many photos for her brother and sister-in-law, David and Wendy, of Aly going around with her little plastic mummy's head.

The school day ended early, and Vanessa took her niece back home to her flat. Aly was going to hang out with her until David came to get her after work.

Vanessa, as an early 25th birthday gift to herself, had got a new cat a week and a half ago.

The cat was older, around seven or eight by the vet's guess, and she was a lovely dark tortoiseshell colour. Her orginal name was lame, in Vanessa's eyes, and she was always rather a fan of Shakespeare.

So, despite the cat being a middle-aged lady (in cat years, of course) Nessa named her Othello.

Aly adored Thello, and the affection was reciprocated. As soon as Nessa's niece's voice was heard outside, the two Wilcock-Wynn-Carroway gals heard Othello's loud meowing.

The cat curled up underneath the chair that Aly was sitting in at the dining table as she worked on her homework, purring loud enough to be heard from a few feet away. Nessa smiled fondly at them and took candid photo to send into the family groupchat.

After David came to get his daughter, Vanessa got changed out of her Loch Nessa cosume and into a pair of fuzzy pyjama bottoms with a comfy long-sleeved shirt and a dressing gown thrown over top it all.

She planned to spend her 25th with Thello, her favourite takeaway from that Indian place down the way, and a marathon of Midsomer Murders. She had a cupcake and a pint of ice cream in her freezer for afterward.

Yes, Vanessa's 25th birthday would be spent with her cat and feeling cozy and taking time for herself.

Jonathan — May 18

Jonathan, on his 25th birthday, was at an event that his company was hosting, ringing in the new summer catalog.

He didn't really have a choice in going or not going because his two best friends, Ben and Davy whom he's known since they were doing kids' modeling, dragged him to it.

While Jono himself stuck mainly to hand and wrist modeling, Ben and Davy had delved into full-body photographing. Ben tended to be called up for more athletic shoots, while Davy was more elegance and class.

As a wrist model, Jono could do any of the above and then some.

But he worked with these people nearly 24/7. He just wanted one day, just one, where he could not have to see Mandie, Brandie, Sandie, and all the other -ie's he worked with.

Davy and Ben promised him that he'd only need to stay there for an hour before they'd skive and go on a mini-pub crawl.

He was holding them to that no matter what.

But that night, Elsie Harris, a writer for an online magazine who sometimes worked with him, was also there.

He'd fancied her for several months now, and she seemed to feel the same. He wasn't positive, but Sandie and Davy kept pushing the two of them together, and Elsie didn't look all that upset by it.

Once he saw her, Ben and Davy knew that any chances of the mini-pub crawl happening were over.

They still smiled and chatted with her when she and Jono came over, of course. Though the two men were disappointed about the way the night changed, they were thrilled to see her leaning into Jono's space.

And they were even more thrilled several minutes later when Jonathan said something about grabbing their stuff and heading out.

Ben looked at Elsie and then back to the birthday boy with a question in his eyes, and Jonathan answered, telling his best friends that he had mentioned what they were planning on doing, and that she wanted to come with them.

She'd never been on a pub crawl on purpose before, and she wanted to try it out.

The more the merrier is how Davy took that news, and the four of them set off into the night.

Elsie, as it turned out, knew how to hold her drink and did so, drinking Davy under the table accidentally.

Ben jokingly complained about having to carry Davy's deadweight back to their flat, but when Elsie apologised, he brushed it off.

Ben asked the bartender to call a cab for him and Davy because David was in no way fit to continue partying.

When Elsie and Jonathan saw them off, Ben and Davy drunkenly wished Jono a happy birthday for the nth time that night, getting into the cab. Jonathan ended up having to tell the cabbie where to go, seeing as the three of them lived in the same flat.

Elsie and Jonathan ended up going back to her place and celebrating his 25th a... let's say in a different way.

He woke up the next morning with her hair spread across his chest, and their hands locked together.

**Bonus**

Lucy — April 17

Lucy spent her twenty-fifth birthday with the Cornley Amateur Drama Society, rehearsing for A Trial to Watch.

They had just started to act it out on stage, reciting their lines rather than reading from the book, and she was excited.

She loved working with Cornley and her Uncle Robert, even if her Mum and Dad weren't especially keen on the idea.

(Which, to be fair, was understandable. The last two times she'd been on stage with them, she'd suffered from several broken bones and two concussions.)

But Uncle Robert, along with Max and Chris, assured them that since all she had to do was simply walk on stage and sit in a jury box, surrounded by several other people, the possibility of her breaking anything or getting a concussion was nearly impossible.

She wasn't a child any more, of course, but even though her parents were divorced and frequently disagreed on many things, the one thing they always agreed on was her safety.

The rehearsal went smoothly, even on Dennis' behalf which was a surprise. He hadn't really forgotten any of his lines, though he still did mess some phrases up, but he did well.

They needed to work on physical cues, but it would be easier with the set when it was built.

After rehearsal, the cast took her out to a pub that was near the theatre for drinks and a show.

It was drag night at the pub, and Lucy adored every second of it.

Several queens flirted with Chris, much to the casts' general amusement, and a king or two did hit on Sandra and Max, much to the casts' great amusement.

After the show, Lucy received gifts from each member, and she may have cried a little a lot into her cocktail.

Her Uncle Robert took her back to his and Dennis' flat after she had one too many and started to fall asleep at the table.

Robert set her on his bed, made sure her phone was plugged in to charge overnight, grabbed some pain meds for her head in the morning and a water bottle, and set it on the bedside table.

He texted his brother Alex and his ex-sister-in-law Gigi and let them know that their daughter was fine and would be sleeping off the celebrations at his flat.

He made sure that his niece was safe and on her side, just in case, before going to the couch in the living room and piling pillows and blankets on it to sleep.

Lucy woke up the next morning, her official second day of being 25, to the sounds of Robert and Dennis chatting in the kitchen accompanied by the smell of French toast and coffee.

(She was also joined in bed by a headache, but thankfully the meds Robert left out the night before were right there, and she solved that issue rather quickly.)

[bohemianrhvps]

Mon amour, puisque tu m'aimes. - G.W.

Summary: George and Fred barely fight but when it happens they might not talk to each other’s for days. After a big fight, George stormed out of the shop and went to muggle London for a walk to calm his nerves. He found himself in one of those old vintage cafes and as he was sitting outside he spot a little flower shop across the street, playing some vintage french songs then he saw her and his heart started trembling.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, fluff, modern!George and muggle!reader.

note: I love Edith Piaf and vintage songs with all my heart and lately I can’t stop to listen “Hymn à l’amour” by Edith Piaf. Physically the reader is based on me (hope that’s not a big deal). I had this idea because I think that George would definitely fall for a muggle, he finds them fascinating just like his father.

‘How dare he say something like that? How dare Fred tell me that my job is not enough and I need to focus more?’

George was furious, he and his brother Fred just had one of their biggest fight ever. He stormed of the shop that he and his brother owned leaving a furious Fred and a confused Ron behind him. He went straight to the Leaky Cauldron and entered muggle London crowded streets. It was early evening and almost everyone was going home after a long day at work.

He decided to calm down his nerves and take a walk around London’s little alleys. His mind was full of thoughts, he was thinking about the words he and his twin brother said to each other’s, angry words that it doesn’t matter that they were said impulsively they still hurt.

After a while he found himself in a little street, less crowded, one of those roads that seemed like those roads in small country villages. A little vintage cafes caught his eyes and he decided that he needed a coffee, even if he didn’t enjoyed his flavour. After ordering, paying and picked up his coffee, he went out to sit in one of those two-seater tables outside the cafes.

Vintage french musics draw his attention, making him stand up and look around trying to figure out where it came from. His eyes landed on this little flower shop on the street corner so he crossed the street and walk towards it. He was never a big fan of Herbology at Hogwarts or plants in general but he was fascinated by these plants, he also saw lemon trees and they were so yellow and so beautiful and their smell was magnificent and he wondered how could they be so beautiful, they were simple and common plants but they were the most beautiful he had ever seen.

Y/n was watering the tulips inside her little shop, humming that old french song that she put in her “oldies” playlist when she spotted this tall red haired man outside her shop, looking at her plants almost suspiciously and she wondered what he was thinking about.

“Did you know that talking to plants makes them grow better?” she calmly said leaning on the front door, still holding the watering can with both hands.

“Is that the secret to having such beautiful plants?” George said turning fully around.

When they met each other’s eyes they remained silent for a couple of minutes. She was mesmerised by his features, he was indeed handsome and his hair was a fiery shade of orange. On the other hand he was mesmerised by her looks, he found her particular, almost weird but she was absolutely dazzling. She had short brown hair, her haircut right under the ear, that perfectly framed her round face. She was wearing a white flannel shirt and a pair of beige flannel pants and the first buttons of her shirt were open. She was at least one foot lower than George, she wasn’t skinny, her waist was slightly narrower than her hips that widened, highlighting her fleshy thighs. And George, being the thighs man he is, had to refrain from staring too long. She was so simple yet so particular and captivating.

“So you like my plants, ay?” she said smiling and putting the watering can on the side.

“I’m not a big fan of flowers and plants but I have to admit that your plants look very tempting.”

‘You are very temping. No wait- George what the heck. Calm down your hormones, mate’ he mentally cursed himself for thinking such things about her.

“If my plants are tempting let me show you something then.” She laughed and went inside her shop, shouting a muffled “Come in” waiting for him to follow her. After having rummaged among the various plants she came back to George with a little succulent in her hands.

“This is a little Echeveria elegans, which is a succulent plant.” she smiled placing the plant on the counter.

George found himself entering the shop and looking around it, it was much smaller than his but it was lovely, full of colours and aromas. He looked at the plant she brought with her and raised his eyebrows, wondering why she took that plant.

“I want to give you this plant.” Her smile was so big that he sweared her skin was going to break. He panicked because he didn’t know how to pay that plant sure he had money with him but muggle money is different from Galleons. He opened his jacket to get his wallet but her hand stopped him.

“No, it’s a gift.” her hand was still on his forearm and he couldn’t help but smile at the contact.

“Forgive my rudeness for not introducing myself sooner but I’m (y/n).” her hand stretched out waiting for George to hold it.

“I’m George and it’s very nice meeting you.” he smiled softly at her, making her blush. She couldn’t help but think about how handsome and charming he was.

“You’re new around here, right? I’ve never seen your face before.” and what a beautiful face she may add.

“No actually I found myself in this street after a long walk and had a coffee in that lovely cafes I want to add that I think I’m going back because that coffe was amazing and I usually don’t drink or like coffe. Anyway I own a shop with my twin brother.” he was babbling but Oh Merlin she made him so nervous.

“Oh yeah? And where is this shop?” the way her brow frowned over in curiosity was adorable.

“Oh it’s across town actually, yeah” his initial enthusiasm had now disappeared.

George looked at his watch and realised that it was almost dinner time and tonight he was supposed to cook for him and Fred.

“I’m sorry but I really need to go now, I guess I’ll see you around then.” he said making his way out of the shop.

“I’ll wait for you to come back here again then.” she smiled at him. The sunset made the whole situation looking like one of those romantic muggle movies his parents made him watch.

He waved his hand at her and walked towards the Leaky Cauldron with the biggest smile on his face and this little plant on his huge hands, he felt like Neville back in Hogwarts.

*The next day*

“Good morning Dear (Y/n)”

“Good morning Margaret”

“Oh you’re wearing a dress and you’re in a good mood today. The usual, love?” (Y/n) simply laughed at the old and lovely woman that owned the cafe and nodded at her question.

“Can I ask you something?” she said sipping her hot cappuccino.

“Anything dear” Margaret smiled at her.

“Did a tall red-haired guy come in here yesterday?” she tried not to look very hopeful.

“How could I forget him? He had this fiery red hair, this purple suit and he was so tall. Is he your boyfriend?” same old nosey Margaret.

“What? No no” she blushed laughing nervously.

“Oh, okay then.” Margaret simply shrugged.

“If he comes again I offer everything he orders.” she smiled and hurried to open her flower shop.

**

“I don’t know why but she was capable of making me nervous. Me? George Fabian Weasley nervous in front of a girl? She’s beautiful though, very particular may I add. Anyway I’ll probably visit her again tod-“

“George who the fuck are you talking to?” Fred came out of his room hearing George talking to a plant?

“Oh Fred ehm nothing, I mean no one” he laughed nervously scratching his neck.

“Do you remember that we have lunch at the Burrow right? Ron and Hermione wants to tell us something.” Fred began to have breakfast as if nothing had happened.

“Alright but I have to go now” George rushed down the stairs, making his way to (Y/n)’s flower shop.

He stopped at the cafes and just as he was about to pay, Margaret stopped him.

“(Y/n) offers” she winked at him. His brows furred but he cracked a smile.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“George” he said before leaving the cafes and run towards her shop.

While he was sipping his coffe, he stayed outside waiting for her clients to leave but admiring her. She was radiant today, she was wearing a yellow long flower dress, with long sleeves balloon and she curled her hair a bit. ‘How cool, they seem shorter’ he thought.

“You know you didn’t have to, right?” he said raising his coffee as soon she was alone in the shop.

“I know, but I wanted to.” everything about her was simply adorable.

He looked around and he found these beautiful and aromatic lilies.

“Just her favourites.” he whispered to himself but (Y/n) heard that and she felt her heart clenched a bit and she didn’t know why.

“Can I have a few of these?” he turned her way.

She took the lilies and made a lovely bouquet, she didn’t want to be nosey but..

“Are these for your girlfriend?” she said tying the boquet with a pink ribbon.

“My girlfr- no no, these are for my mom.” he answered almost too quickly. “We have a family lunch, my brother and his wife want to tell us something. I’m wondering what it is.” again he was babbling and tell her things that she probably didn’t want to hear.

“Maybe she’s pregnant, I don’t know.” she answered giggling. He was going to pay but again she stopped him, shaking her head with a simple smile.

“Let me know if your mum liked them.” she waved her hand and again George found himself with the biggest smile of his face.

**

“Merlin’s beard George, they’re beautiful.” Molly was thrilled when she saw the lilies. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers.. never saw it in Diagon Alley, is it a new shop?”

“Actually mom it’s a shop in muggle London, yeah.” he scratched the back of his neck, blushing a little.

“And tell me, what's she like? Big tits? Big ass?” Fred whispered pushing his shoulder a bit.

“Big tit- Fred what the hell?” he scolded at his twin brother.

“Boys behave we have an announcement!” Ron said clapping his hands drawing everybody’s attention on him and Hermione.

“I’m pregnant.” Hermione said with a big smile on her face.

“(Y/n), how did you know..” George whispered to himself while clapping his hands at the happy couple.

“Were you talking to me?” asked Fred smirking, acting like he didn’t heard George’s exact words.

**

It was Monday morning and it was also (Y/n)’s day off so she decided to walk around London and look for George’s shop, she wanted to surprise him. It took her almost the whole morning but she hadn’t seen his shop, he told her that outside his shop there were a huge statue that looked like him so it was impossible to miss. It was around noon and she decided to go visit her grandmother and her flower shop. The only thing was that her grandmother was a witch and her flower shop was in Diagon Alley so she made her way through the Leaky Cauldron and entered Diagon Alley. It has been a while since she was in the wizard world but she knew exactly how to act. Just around the corner she spotted an unfamiliar shop.

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

The moment she saw the statue she instantly froze. She recognised it and the shop was exactly like George described it. She decided to enter and look around.

The inside of the shop was simply beautiful, so full of colours and people and she was simply enchanted. She spotted a familiar tall ginger man and she made her way to him.

“George?” she tapped his shoulder.

“Wrong one, love. I’m Fred.” he said turning around to greet her. She smiled at him as she instantly recognised him as George’s twin brother.

“And you are?” he raised his eyebrows.

“(Y/n), I’m (Y/n).” she reached out to him.

“Oooh” Fred said with a cheeky grin. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers, right?” he squeezed her hand.

“Oì, stop flirting with our costumers and come to h-“ he froze. He was panicking when he saw her. And now what? What is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to say?

“(Y/n) hi, w-what are you doing here?” his palms were sweating so hard he hoped you wouldn’t notice.

“Your shop is literally magical.” she ignored his questions as she giggled looking around George’s shop. “My grandmother is a witch, she owns a flower shop here in Diagon Alley, so here I am.” she said raising her hands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” he was really sorry because he really like her, he didn’t know if he liked her as a friend or more but he sure enjoyed her company.

“Oh it’s okay, I can imagine it’s not easy telling someone you’re a wizard” her laugh was lovely.

“So, can I have the honor of showing you around the store?” he asked her extending his arm which she gladly accepted.

“Y/n guess what... Hermione’s pregnant.” he said super excited.

“I told you!” she said jumping a little making George smile like a five years old.

George turned around to his brother who was looking at them smiling. Fred knew his brother and he knew that George fell for her, even before George himself knew that.

note: I’m thinking of making this a mini series, divide it into three maybe four parts (reader meeting the Weasleys and maybe add some smut lol). Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to continue it.

[redisriding]

Tell us about yourself!

Yikes! So I didn't really know where to begin with this one, Well I was born on the banks of the river... Nah! So I googled “fun get to know me questions” and the resulting questionnaire had 371 questions. I decided to answer the first 100!

Strap yourself in, because HERE WE GO! 

1. What is your full name?

Red is Riding ;)

2. What does your name mean?

Funny story, so I actually created this alias to partake in some underground hedonistic activities. When I went to start my Tumblr I just decided to use the same one because I’m not very creative and didn’t want to make up a new one. I never thought that this blog would become as popular as it has, and now I couldn’t be bothered changing the name. It does make me laugh though, if only you people knew what I used to get up to under this alias. 

3. Are you named after anyone?

Little Red Riding Hood?

4. Does your name make any interesting anagrams?

I don’t think so, but maybe someone smarter than me could figure it out. 

5. If you had to change your first name, what would you change it to?

I would probably change my real first name if I could as unfortunately I share it with a reasonably well known facist.

6. Where are you from?

A small European country. 

7. Where were you born?

In the capital city of that small European country. 

8. Where did you grow up?

In the suburbs of the capital of that small European country. 

9. Who did you look like growing up?

A member of the band Hanson, if they had red hair and wore those terrible 2000’s wire rimmed glasses. 

10.What are your best characteristics?

Oh gosh, isn’t it embarrassing to talk about your good traits? Especially when the way you see yourself is often so different from the way others see you. 

11.What are your favorite things about yourself?

Honestly, I’ve great boobs.

12.Which of your parents are you closest to?

Depends on my mood.

13.Which of your parents are you more like?

I think physically I’m more like my mother, but my character is closer to my father. 

14.Are your grandparents still married?

Yep, on one side. On the other side my grandad is dead and has been for a very long time. 

15.What relative was important to you growing up & why?

I guess my grandparents, they are the only members of the extended family I ever really saw growing up. I was never close to my uncles, and my aunts and cousins all live in different countries. 

16.What is one thing that you’ve never revealed to your parents?

Anything about my love life, we just don’t talk about it. Ever!

17.What would your parents have named you if you were the opposite gender?

I’m actually not sure. I know they had lots of other traditionally female names picked out, but I don’t know any male names they had for me. I’m not sure if they knew early on if I was going to be a girl, would make sense though.

18.What do you call your grandparents?

I call one of my grandmother’s by her first name, and my grandad, grandad. 

19.What is your best physical feature?

My boobs!…I have pretty eyes too.

20.What is your biggest accomplishment?

Probably getting into University and graduating top of my class.

21.What is your biggest fear?

Having all my joints simultaneously dislocate. 

22.What is your biggest regret?

The way I’ve treated certain people over the years.

23.What is your eye colour?

Blue.

24.What inspires you?

Hope that tomorrow can be better.

25.What is the most important thing in your life?

My family, and my future. 

26.What has required the most courage of you in your life so far?

Hummm, I’m really not sure about this one. 

27.Who is your favourite actor?

I truly could not name a single actor.

28.Who is your favourite actress?

As above. 

29.Who is your favourite celebrity?

I genuinely have no idea.

30.Who is your favourite musician?

Lorde has been getting me through this quarantine, but my favourite singer/band is/are Florence + the Machine. Maybe that dates me. 

31.Who’s your favourite person in the world?

I can’t choose just one! 

32.What is your favourite childhood memory?

I’m very lucky, I had a really marvellous childhood. I guess I have some great memories of playing with my brother as a child, but I’m not sure I have a favourite memory. 

33.What is your favourite colour?

Teal. 

34.What is your favourite cultural activity?

I love going to the theatre.

35.What is your favourite drink?

Water is the thing I drink most often. I don’t like tea or coffee, and I only drink alcohol in social settings not alone of an evening.

36.What is your favourite fairytale?

I’m actually not sure. I know it’s not quite the same but I was never allowed to watch the Disney princess films growing up (a lot of which are based on fairytales) so I can’t say I am particularly attached on any. Although, in answering this question I have remembered by blog name so I probably should say Little Red Riding Hood. 

37.What is your favourite food?

Potatoes, they are so wonderfully versatile, I will never get bored eating them.

38.What is your favourite holiday destination?

There is so much of the world I have not yet seen and I cannot wait until we’re allowed to travel again. The last big trip I was on was to Canada, Vancouver, and it was amazing. 

39.What is your favourite ice-cream flavour?

Ice cream does not agree with me at all, I always thought I was lactose intolerant because of it (I’m not), but I did love a pistachio ice cream as a kid. 

40.What is your favourite music genre?

According to Spotify my most listened to genre is “alternative” whatever that means.

41.What is your favourite physical activity?

Hiking. 

42.What is your favourite quote?

I don’t believe I have one. I do know someone who has “live laugh love” tattooed on their foot. Take from that what you will.

43.What is your favourite snack?

Tbh I don't really snack (am I coming across as awfully boring in these questions?) I love three big meals a day. I will eat an apple or something if I need something pre dinner. 

44.What is your favourite song?

Either Fascination by Alphabeat, Prayer in C by Lily Wood and the Prick, and Robin Schulz, or Brimful of Asha by Cornershop, the Fat Boy Slim Remix. Those songs never fail to put me in a good mood when I need it. 

45.What is your favourite sport?

To watch? Rugby. But I am OBSESSED with the Olympics, especially the winter olympics.

46.What is your favourite time of the day?

Early evening. 

47.What is your favourite type of clothing?

Dresses…with pockets! Or jumpers, I love a big wooly jumper. 

48.What is your favourite way to pass time?

Read.

49.What is the name of your favourite restaurant?

My favourite restaurant is called Dishoom, but unfortunately it has yet to make it to my little European country, so it’s a real treat if I get to eat there. 

50.What is your all-time favourite town or city? Why?

I don’t have one.

51.What is your favourite candle scent?

Probably a classic vanilla, but not an overpowering one. The vanilla candle from IKEA is the NICEST. 

52.What is your favourite social media channel?

Probably Twitter, although Tumblr is my place for escape. 

53.Where’s your favourite place to take an out-of-town guest?

Ugh I hate being the one to choose where we go. I think it’s because I’m a Libra. 

54.What was your favourite subject in High School?

Okay now this is a fun fact, I didn’t actually go to school. I was “Home Educated” which is ideologically different form being Home Schooled. There was no curriculum for me to follow so I could basically dick about doing whatever I wanted during the day. I did study Law which I really enjoyed, and I went onto study it at University. 

55.What was your least favourite subject in High School?

Again see above. Although I do remember crying every time my father tried to teach me maths. To this day, I’m still not sure how to work out a percentage, let alone anything more advanced than that. 

56.What was your favourite TV show when you were a child?

Sabrina the Teenage Witch (the Melissa Joan Heart version) or anything with Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen in it (have I dated myself again?)

57.What do you love about your favourite TV Show?

They were fun. I wanted to be them!

58.Are you scared of heights?

Nope, but I’m scared of falling and shattering all the bones in my legs.

59.Are you high maintenance?

Definitely not.

60.Are you more inclined to “build your own empire” or unleash the potential of others?

I don’t know what this means, but fuck imperialism. 

61.Are you more likely to avoid conflict or engage it head-on?

Ugh, I hate conflict, like I go all trembly, but if there is something amiss I can’t not confront it.

62.Are you a dog person or cat person?

I really adore animals, I had hoped to get a cat during this long and lonely lockdown but my landlord wasn’t keen. If I had more time and space I would love to get a dog, it’s just not feasible in my life at the moment. 

63.Are you a fan of any sports team?

Just my national team no matter what the sport.

64.Are you a good cook?

I like to think so.

65.Are you an early adopter or late-adopter?

Depends. I don’t always love change.

66.If you had more courage what would you do differently in your life now?

I don’t think having more courage would change anything in my life right now. 

67.What is good about how you are living your life right now?

Oh gosh, I’m so incredibly lucky to have the like that I am living right now. Truly blessed, but at the same time, I have got here because of all my hard work and determination. 

68.If you could eliminate one weakness or limitation in your life, what would it be?

I’m not sure if this strictly answers the question, but I wish I could be kinder and more sympathetic to people. I can be harsh on people I care about because I want to see them do well in life and get frustrated when they are doing things that so obviously curtails their ability. I’ve lost friends because of it. 

69.Who has left the most impact on your life?

I don’t think I can name just one person.

70.What aspect of your life needs tremendous improvement?

My love life. It’s not existent. Truly. I don’t even have a far away crush on anyone at the moment. I desperately want to experience romantic love, but it’s scary and you have to allow yourself to be soft and vulnerable which is not something that I am very good at. I also have a lot of negative thoughts/self doubts about whether I am good enough to be in a relationship, or worthy enough for love. It’s stupid, obviously, everyone, flaws and all is worthy of love, but because of things that have happened/been said to me I do kind of have this negative chatter of “who could ever love me” or fear people thinking “god love the poor guy who ends up with her.” All that said, I have never actually met anyone who I’ve really liked, let alone anyone who has liked me back. The closest I’ve got, is I’ve been in lust twice in my life with guys, who objectively speaking, I would never think I would be attracted to.

71.What’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen in your life?

I’ve see a lot of weird things tbh, but the first one that springs to mind is that every year we used to go to these big gatherings of families who home educate their children. Now, there are two groups of people that tend to home educate their children 1) EXTREMELY religious families who don’t want their children going to secular schools, and 2) new age hippies who don’t want their children to have to conform to the rigours of school. When these two groups meet…it is interesting. The religious families usually have a lot of children (10+ in many cases), while the hippy families wander around semi-nude and breast feed their children until their grown (7+ years in many cases). So at these home education conferences, the hippy parents would be wandering around, leaky boobs out, and the religious babies would be wandering around because their parents have too many children to keep track of. Whenever one of these babies wandered within range of the hippy parents, they’d take them, and latch them onto their breasts. Absolutely bizarre stuff.

72.Who is the best teacher you’ve ever had?

Myself. 

73.Who is the biggest pack rat you know?

I don’t know what this means. 

74.Who is the first person you call when something exciting happens?

If it’s a big enough deal to call someone, I’ll call my parents, but usually if something exciting happens I’ll just message my friend group.

75.Who is the first person you call when something horrible happens?

Same as above. 

76.Who is the worst boss you’ve ever had?

I had to sue her to get her and her husband to pay me for the work I did. 

77.Can you close your eyes and raise your eyebrows?

Yep? Can you not?

78.Can you do a split?

No, but I want to learn! I have really tight hamstrings so that would be good to stretch them.

79.Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

No. Can you?

80.Can you whistle?

Yeah.

81.Can you dance?

Everyone can dance, the question is whether you can dance well or not! I have no rhythm or style, but get me on a dance floor and I’ll bop my socks off.

82.Do you remember your dreams?

Sometimes. 

83.Do you save old greeting cards and letters? Throw them away?

I save them for a while, but I’m not overly sentimental. 

84.Do you sing in the shower?

Never. 

85.Do you sleep with the lights on or off?

Off. 

86.Do you spell the colour as grey or gray?

Grey you weirdo! 

87.Do you take any pills or medication daily?

Never.

88.Do you prefer kissing or cuddling?

I like kissing because it’s hot and fiery and I think I’m reasonably good at it. Cuddling is the best but it’s something I struggle with as I find it far too intimate. See my answer to Q70.

89.Do you prefer that people shoot straight with you or temper their words? Why?

Hit me between the eyeballs with the truth, please! I just like people who are clear and direct about their intentions, it means everyone knows where they stand. 

90.Do you prefer Titanic or The Notebook?

I saw a black and white documentary about the Titanic when I was a very small child (maybe about 5 or 6) and for a long time I thought that was the movie Titanic! I have seen neither the real film Titanic nor the Notebook, although from what I know of the latter I don’t think it would be my thing.

91.Do you have a catchphrase?

I don’t think so, but maybe people in my life would be better at answering this question. What is it that I say a lot?

92.Do you have a garden?

I wish!

93.Do you have a hidden dream that you’ve never shared with anyone?

I’m taking this to mean a goal or aspiration, and not something that I have subconsciously dreamed and been too embarrassed to share? I would love to write a book one day. I’m work on something periodically but I’m not sure if anything will ever come from it, a gal can dream though!

94.Do you have a tattoo?

None! I’m kind of a commitment-phobe, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed?

95.Do you have a whole lot of acquaintances or just a few very close friends? Why?

Both! I know lots of people in passing, but the people I consider actual friends, who know what is going on in my life at any given time, I could count on my fingers.

96.Do you have any allergies?

Not that I’m aware of…

97.Do you have any birthmarks? If so, where?

I used to have one on my back, but it’s faded as I’ve aged.

98.Do you have pets?

Not at the moment.

99.Do you hold any convictions that you would be willing to die for?

That is a big question. I think however, if there was a guarantee, that sacrificing my life would make the lives of others immeasurably better, I would be scarified. I have plenty of convictions that I’m willing to protest/riot/go to prison for.

100.Do you carry a donor card?

Bit ominous after Q99 but yes I do, and my driver’s licence states that I’m a donor.

I’m not sure if this is at all what you were hoping for in asking this, but I honestly had the best fun answering these questions! :)

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.14

Hunk drove a very hyper Pidge home. Letting her mix flavours had been a bad idea, Pidge talking the whole drive home so fast that Lance was surprised she was managing to drink her slushies in between her words. Promising his best buddy he’d fill him in the following morning, Lance felt a little awkward as he let him and Keith into his empty house. His beloved bronco wasn’t back yet, Shiro extremely lucky Lance didn’t have his phone number to hound him about taking care of his baby girl. Hovering at the base of the stairs, both men stood their awkwardly. Lance feeling weird as he knew he needed to say something, but wasn’t sure what that something was. Playing it safe, he opted for an apology. Keith’s life had been thrown in turmoil, just like Lance’s, and the man clearly missed his brother, something Lance couldn’t make better for him. Maybe if they’d met when in college, he and Keith could have been friends. Keith’s anger clearly stemmed from trauma, his repeated fixation on thinking he’d been turned very clearly said that. Lance had the feeling is had something to do with whatever happened to Shiro’s partner, but he wasn’t in the position to pry.

“Hey. I’m sorry we dragged you out. I know I was kind of a pushy, and you can probably put that down to my people pleasing personality, but I hope some part of tonight was enjoyable. It’s no easy, or fun, being on the outside, but Hunk and Pidge are good people. I’m not just using them to blend in, it was never like that. They’re both special to me. I know we’re like strangers and it’s awkward as hell living together, but I think after tonight I like you a little more than I did. I don’t think you’re a fundamentally bad person, and I’m not going to push you to talk to me. I guess what I want to say is, that I swear on Blue I’m not in the habit of hurting people. That doesn’t mean much coming from a vampire, because honestly, most of us are huuuuuuge douche canoes. But as long as you’re under my roof, I’m going to treat you like an actual human being, and not as “Keith the hunter”. I don’t know how many times I can apologise for being what I am, but I’m too much of a coward to off myself. I thinking part of my emotional growth was stunted from being turned... and, well, yeah. I’ll let you head to bed or whatever. If you can’t sleep, help yourself to whatever. I would prefer you stay out of my office for the sake of my clients, but I know you can get in there anyway... yeah... anyway, I’m headed up to bed... I’ll see you in the morning”

Lance’s undead heart leapt when Keith opened his mouth, only to fall when Keith closed his mouth and looked away. He’d probably said too much again. He was trying so damn hard, and he wasn’t exactly sure why it even mattered. Until Shiro came back, both he and Keith were left in limbo... Lance still kind of hoped that Shiro leaving Keith with him meant the older hunter wasn’t about to come for his head in the middle of the night, and that some time apart would make it easy for Shiro to see his brother was very much the human idiot he’d always been.

“How old are you?”

Lance nearly dropped the remnants of his slushy in surprise. Strawberry hadn’t been the smartest choice. Pidge had teased him about looking like a vampire for having red around his lips, and all over his teeth. Honesty was best when dealing with people in trauma

“I’m 44. In human years”

“Okay”

That was it. The limit of Keith’s vocabulary for the night. The hunter trudging towards his room, leaving Lance to walk up the stairs to his own. Stripping down and changing for bed, Blue let out a rumbled purr as she came running into his room and leapt up onto his bed to wait for him. He really must look like the lamest vampire Keith had ever met. Just a lonely vampire and his cat, living in the middle of nowhere. It was a good thing Lance didn’t mind being lame.

*

Lance’s dreams were horrible. He’d woken half a dozen times unable to escape the feelings flowing through his body. His teeth hurt, cutting into his lip as he huddled against his bedhead. He felt flushed with fever, arm aching as if he’d broken it. The skin had healed over the wound, but it itched so badly Lance wanted to scratch until it bled. Shivering and sick, he’d fallen back to sleep around dawn, waking with a throat feeling as though clogged with his death soil. Blue hadn’t left him, though that might not have been her choice given the door to his bedroom was closed, instead of slightly open so Blue could come and go as she pleased.

Showering only made Lance feel worse, he couldn’t get the temperature to cooperate and nearly tore the tap handle off it’s fitting trying. He ended up feeling like soggy cardboard, all wet and useless, as he towelled off and peered in the least cracked slither of mirror left. Today was definitely a day for make up. No amount of blood was going to bring back colour into his dulled skin. Being the youngest, he’d spent many a time as his older sister Rachel’s model. Mami had beaten her arse red on more than one occasion when Rachel had tried using nail polish as eyeshadow... his sister not the most skilled person to be giving anyone a make over, but his other sister Veronica had grown out of all of that kind of thing by the time Rachel had gotten old enough to be right into all frilly girly things, leaving Lance to be her victim repeatedly. After he’d turned, all of that had stopped. Initially his Papi would gently send everyone away from him, until his Mami took him by the ear and reminded him that though different, Lance was still their baby boy. When he’d been older his Papi apologised, but he never knew how good a vampire‘s memory was, that those days still stayed with Lance no matter how many years had passed. Today was not the day to be looking like a movie extra in a budget film, his whole face felt choked as he smeared his foundation on, before giving his lips a quick coat of waterproof lipstick, though humans had never really got the recipe for that right. Continuing his morning routine, he dressed as nicely as he could shirt wise, then opted for sweats on the bottom. It wasn’t like his conference call was going to be worried about his lack of proper attire when his shirt looked professional enough.

Coming downstairs, Lance darted through to his office, teeth aching all over again as he opened a bag of blood, messily drinking down the contents like he hadn’t been fed for days. Coran had said to expect a low, but this was nearing ridiculous. He wasn’t in any fit condition to entertain Keith with half hearted fighting, let alone provide legal representation to the clients trusting him in. Spilling blood across his laptop came as the final straw, Lance sinking to the floor where he balled himself under his desk, to scared to call Coran, and too scared to sit up and human. Instead he remained hidden there until his laptop started to ring, letting him know he’d spent a good three hours wallowing rather pathetically.

Before the family court, the matter took all of 15 minutes. Lance speaking smoothly, as he bounced his left leg, hands digging into his sweats hard enough that his nails had ripped through. Things would have been different if he’d known he could jump in his car and straight up to Platt, instead of this horrible feeling like he was a prisoner in his own home. The little voice in his head mocked him for not being able to pick up his phone and call Coran, paranoid over how Keith would act if Coran came running because he couldn’t keep his shit together. He didn’t want to die. Not while his Mami still lived. He didn’t want to break her heart, or prove the rest of his siblings right. He didn’t want Coran to be hurt, not that he thought Keith had the power to take Coran down... it was just... sometimes words left a wound that even the deepest blade was left dull in comparison. Keith was lashing out, hitting that target without aiming, like being caught in a spray of bullets. Coran didn’t deserve that with all the good for Lance and those like him. For Keith’s sake, Lance needed to keep all this shit secret. The hunter had signed up for his head, not his sob story.

Leaving the office, Lance headed into the kitchen. Keith at the kitchen bench trying to figure out the coffee machine. Dropping the pod in his hands, the hunter picked it back up without saying anything, but he didn’t need to. Lance knew how weak and pathetic he was, he could see it reflected in Keith’s brilliant eyes. Wordlessly he went to the cupboard, pulling out a can of wet food for Blue, Keith taking half a step away from him as he did. It stung. The not so covert action rubbed him the wrong way, not that he’d say so out loud. Pulling the ring tab back, Lance stubbed his toe on the counter as he reached for Blue’s dish. The act bringing tears to his eyes as he finally broke. Sinking down to the floor, he was showing Keith the most shameful side of him that he humanly could.

“Do you take sugar in your coffee?”

The question hung in the air, Lance’s face hidden behind his hands as he wept.

“Lance, do you take sugar in your coffee?”

Keith had said his name. Without any malice or prompting... he didn’t understand why

“I take three usually”

Why was Keith talking to him?

“Shiro says it too many, but I like three. You seem more like a one person”

“A one person”. Keith, who didn’t even think of him as human, was there in his kitchen calling him a person

“Am I really so useless that you’re wasting time on me?”

Lance regretted the harsh tone in his words. Wiping at his teary eyes, he looked up at the hunter to find him looking down on him

“Well you’re practically an animal, but... I think maybe I don’t hate you as much as I should”

Laughter bubbled up, Lance not blaming Keith for stepping back as his tears turned to laughter

“You can go fuck yourself if you’re going to be like that”

Lance’s laughter sobered, the vampire sniffling loudly. Okay. Keith was acting “Keithy” again, he could understand that

“One. Two if Pidge and Hunk are here”

Keith took a moment before a silent “oh” of realisation formed on his lips, turning back to the coffee machine as he tried to fit the pod in properly

“I... I have nightmares too”

Lance cringed. Asleep he hadn’t been able to consciously hold back. Keith had probably heard him screaming the house down, now taking pity on his undead arse

“I heard you calling for someone... friends or something. You we’re really fucking loud”

“I’m sorry”

“Who were they?”

“People who don’t matter”

They didn’t matter but that didn’t mean they weren’t always on his mind

“Nyma and Rolo?”

Lance shuddered at their names. They’d parted so long ago that it didn’t feel fair he should be forced to remember them

“People you don’t want to meet”

“I gathered from your screams. Are they the ones who turned you? Or were they friends?”

“I don’t want to talk about it”

“You say vampires never forget, does that mean you remember what happened with them?”

Lance shook his head quickly

“I don’t want to talk about it”

“So they sired you?”

Lance put his hands over his ears

“Shut up”

“If they did...”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!”

Screaming in anger, Lance hated Keith in that moment for pushing. Nyma and Rolo had been his friends. The keyword being “had”. He was allowed to have things he didn’t want to talk about. Those two were in his past, not is future. Letting his head dropped back, it smacked against the cupboard without enough force to be satisfying. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to break something. He wanted to tear himself out of his own skin. Nudged with Keith’s foot, he shot a look of rage up at Keith, the hunter holding out a cup of coffee

“Drink this. Shiro said he won’t be back for a while, but he was sending someone out to watch over you until he could be”

“I don’t need watching over”

Taking the coffee cup, the handle snapped before Keith had let go completely. Pulling the mug back, the hunter cut his hand on the protruding porcelain at the bottom. Hit by the smell of Keith’s blood, Lance felt all his senses come alive with the need to feed. Both their eyes widened as they met, both in fear over the situation. Keith feared Lance was about to maul him, as Lance feared how good Keith’s blood smelt.

Lance did the only thing he could do. He ran. Keith left staring as he bolted from the kitchen, his hand snapping through the bottom of the staircase railing as the grabbed it to use his momentum to get up his stairs just that little bit faster, tripping in his rush, but pushing himself on faster in the same heartbeat. Reaching his room, he slammed the door behind him, dragging his dresser over to barricade himself in. He hadn’t needed his phone in the office, so left it up on its charge station. Snatching up the device, he copped a glance of his reflection, disgusted at the sight of himself. His hands shook as he unlocked the device, calling the only number he could, Coran. With first ring, he found he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t run to Coran for help. He couldn’t tell him there was something still wrong with him. His phone thrown in disgust where the force shattered the device on impact, and dented the floorboard it’d hit. He didn’t know what to do, but he did know he was a mistake.

[chazz-anova]

My official Far Cry 5 fanfic!

Alrighty everyone! After a LONG time, I’ve finally finished the first section of this fic and I am so excited to start posting it everywhere lmao, so please feel free to leave your comments in the replies I’d love to hear what people think! Now without further ado; here’s chapter 1!

Veronica glanced lazily at the clock, which read 3:28am. She'd gotten off work about 4 hours earlier, but couldn't seem to lull herself to sleep no matter how many drinks she had or smoke breaks she took. Lately, the young sheriff's deputy had felt unsettled, like she was stuck in a rut. Ice clinked in her Crown Royal glass as she raised it to her lips, finishing it with a swig. "What's wrong with me Olive?" She asked the calico cat that padded silently into the room. The cat replied with a dainty mew and climbed into Veronica's lap. While petting her companion, she glanced around her modest townhome. 

It was a tastefully furnished two story home with a balcony and a neighborhood pool. She sat on a powder blue couch that was joined by an armchair off to the side. The TV screen in front of her read 'Are you there? Press X to continue" Answering the question aloud, she muttered "Sometimes I wonder if I am still here" She lifted Olive off her lap and replaced her with an engraved silver tray, a baggie of weed, and a Cherry Dynamite flavoured Swisher. She may be a deputy, but some vices she was reluctant to give up. 

A few moments later- Veronica stepped out onto her balcony, blunt in hand. She slowly took in the familiar scenery, living right on the outskirts of Hope County afforded her one of the best views. The Whitetail Mountains towered over the town beyond, the neon lights of various restaurants and gas stations glowing upwards and framing the tall peaks in a surreal glow. Her gaze turned up to the stars, dazzling like diamonds on the velvet black sky. As she lit up and the lighter illuminated her balcony, the atmosphere shifted a degree 'Everything will be different soon.' The thought flew through her mind without warning, and she shivered as though possessed. "Jeez..." She murmured and took a long drag of the sweet smoke, shaking her head and praying for rest to come quickly, after this she’d go and try to lay in her bed until sleep overtook her finally. 

Running. Feet pounding the ground. Lungs shriveled and screaming for a full breath. Tears welled up in Veronica's eyes as she wind cut at her skin. In front of her, millions of faceless souls reached their hands out; grasping for her as she ran, seemingly suspended between them and what she ran from. The group was insistently whispering "Help. Help us." Veronica turned around, slowing a fraction. Behind her there was a plume of green smoke billowing out of an unseen source, threatening to take her mind and steal her heart if she got too close. The entities in front of her were murmuring "Please help us" "We need you". With each  pleading moan their voices grew; louder and louder until their words were a guttural, rasping cacophony of screams. And just as suddenly as they appeared, they were gone and replaced by deafening silence. The air seemed to be holding its breath, and Veronica turned to see the smoke gone as well, leaving her alone in the blackness. 

Upon waking, Veronica gasped and clutched her heart, which was fighting to escape her chest with each beat. “Fuck!” She exclaimed and looked around her room. In the darkness she saw everything was normal, her desk and computer stood in front of her and no one occupied the chair in the corner to her relief. She took her phone from the nightstand and saw that it was only 6:20am. “Man, screw this.” She burrowed back under the black covers and pulled them over her head. 

The next time she awoke- gentle sunlight streamed in through the half open curtains and her eyes fluttered open. Checking her phone, it was now 10:42am, and relief filled her. Looking underneath the time she saw a message from her co-worker and good friend, Joey Hudson. It read “Come to your shift ready for some bull today!” Veronica sighed, typing out her response “Always do!” 

Soon enough, Olive jumped onto her bed and sat, giving her an impatient look. “Alright you little beast, I’ll get up.” She smiled at her furry friend and swung her feet over the side, striding into the kitchen and grabbing the cat food while also setting her coffee pot to brew.

In about 20 minutes- she was sitting on her balcony with a hot cup of mostly cream and sugar with a little coffee, and a quickly rolled joint. ‘Please let today go by quickly...:’ she prayed to no one in particular. Her work outfit looked creased from not being washed recently, and she knew Sheriff Whitehorse would have something to say about that. ‘After this joint I should probably get going.’ V thought, looking through the balcony windows at the clock. 

Veronica stepped into the grey/white walled sheriff’s office; seeing Nancy at the front desk on the phone, examining her long nails disinterestedly. She gave her a quick wave before heading back to Sheriff Earl Whitehorse’s office, where a commotion could be heard. 

“I don’t care how scared of him all you backwoods hicks are, where I’m from we get shit done!” An aggressive man declared, venom dripping from his words. ‘This must be the aforementioned bullshit Hudson mentioned.’ Veronica sighed before pasting a professional smile over her frown and stepping into the room. “You’ve got no right to just come in here like-” Hudson’s confident voice was absorbed by the same angry voice that had started the yelling, “Oh I’ve got every right missy. Know why? Because I’m a federal marshal, and what I say goes.” The tension in the air was malleable. Between Hudson glaring daggers at the stranger and Whitehorse’s dejected look, Ronnie knew she had just walked into a shitstorm. “Woah, let’s take it down a notch okay?” She said, directed at the man in front of her. He was of a bulkier build, and his stance said he was used to having things his way or the highway. “Oh great, another dumbass deputy to deal with! Sheriff, get your team and your shit together.” The man pushed past Veronica and Joey, shouldering his way out of the room. “Nice to meet you too!” The youngest deputy called before turning back to Hudson and Whitehorse. “So, who pissed in his cheerios?” 

Hudson just shook her head angrily, as Whitehorse replied grimly “Joseph Seed.”

“That pastor who’s been causing trouble in Hope County?” 

“That’s the one. He’s formed some kind of militia and is kidnapping folks… I’d get yourselves ready, because as soon as the judge fills that warrant we’re all going to pick him up.” 

V met his words with an incredulous look, retorting “He’s bad enough that we all get to join Captain Sunshine there on a simple warrant like that? I mean, every time we’ve had to deal with him and his followers it’s never seemed that severe.” Hudson spoke up, pulling her phone from her pocket and presenting a video “Look for yourself. Someone sent this in a couple days ago.” 

Grainy footage showed a tall, shirtless man in aviators preaching to a flock of similarly dressed people. The video zoomed in on the man’s chilling blue eyes; and the camera suddenly fell to the ground, showing the owner of the device being dragged forward and put on his knees before the preacher. In a casual manner he reached forward and placed his thumbs against the man’s eyes, pressing while his victim’s screams grew louder and more pained. Soon the man fell to the ground, and Joseph flicked the blood from his hands as though it were water. Veronica’s eyebrows raised in surprise as the scene was cut off and a new image appeared on the screen.

The recording was now taking place outside. There was a sizable wooden stage and Joseph stood in the center, a large curtain obscuring what was on a stand behind him. “My children, we must repent for our sins!” Joseph called while pulling the curtain down with some flourish. Veronica gasped in shock upon seeing the man from before who’d had his eyes crushed. He was lifted up onto a wooden pole, his eyes had been replaced by a white flower in each eye socket. Looking down his body- it was clear someone  had mutilated his chest cavity as well, carving out space for a bouquet of the same flowers.  On both sides of his head antlers had been impaled into his skull, where dried blood decorated the base of each antler in grotesque detail. 

When the video finally faded to black, Veronica handed the phone back to Joey. “Wow, I’m glad I didn’t have anything heavy for breakfast.” She deadpanned, shaking her head. “This is a mistake, we need more people.” Whitehorse murmured and walked out of the room with an exasperated look. “Old man’s taking this real hard… I think he saw something real messed up on the last call out to Joseph’s compound.” Hudson looked after him with worry clear on her face. The other deputy nodded, unable to clear the images from the video from her mind. “Even though he’s clearly an ass, maybe the Marshal is right and we’ll just go snatch him up real quick.” 

“Hopefully..” Hudson murmured and left the office as well, leaving Veronica alone. 

The rest of the day- Marshal Cameron Burke holed up in a back office making heated phone calls, trying to find a judge to sign his warrant. V spent most of the day riding with another deputy, Staci Pratt. Veronica couldn’t stand Pratt, so every call they went on was a chore. However, the shift was finally drawing to a close as the pair pulled up once more at the station. 

As soon as they walked in the door, Burke was on them. “You two, I suggest getting some rest tonight, because I found a judge. Once I’ve gathered everything I need, we’ll be flying out to Joseph’s compound.” Veronica checked the clock in the lobby, nodding “Well it’s 9 now, when are we leaving?” The Marshal sighed, as though responding was a chore, “We leave when I call and tell you we’re leaving.” V narrowed her eyes while crossing her arms, “You know, I’m not sure what your problem is, but don’t talk to me like that. You’re an adult, not a petty child, act like it.” The federal marshal was shocked someone had stood up to him, and unsure what to say. Seizing the opportunity to make her escape before her mouth got her into more trouble, Ronnie rushed past the man, shaking her head. ‘What an asshole!’ She thought as she punched numbers into the timeclock, hurrying out of the building without further incident.

About 20 minutes later, Veronica was speeding down the winding country roads in her beat up Mazda Miata. The roads were entirely empty, save for a deer she saw on the side of the road while taking the next turn. Upon rounding the corner- a large flare of light and an earth-shaking explosion caused her to slam on the brakes. “What the hell…” She peered out of the window. “Guess I should go check on that.. being an officer of the law and all…” Her murmured words were enveloped by another explosion, causing her to jump. Some days the job of a deputy wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. 

Ronnie had finally reached the area where the explosions had been coming from, after breaking several traffic laws to get there. Stepping out of the car, she drew her gun and took a preliminary look around the clearing. There were almost cartoon-worthy scorch marks on the ground that had wiped away any sense of greenery on the ground, but no one seemed to be around. V kept the gun at her side and started her sweep of the area. Right as she was going to start heading back to her car to report this to the station, she heard someone walking through the woods to her left. “Note to self, don’t light the fuse before you’re ready to have it blow up..” She heard someone mutter to themselves before she yelled “Freeze! Who are you and what’re you doing here?” A man of medium build walked out of the treeline, holding his hands in the classic ‘I surrender’ style. He wore a green sweatshirt, and a matching ballcap. “Charlemange Victor Boshaw at your service ma’am, I apologise for the bother-” 

“You describe an explosion as a ‘bother’?” Veronica interrupted, gun staying trained on him. 

“Well yeah. It sure bothered me that it exploded.” 

“May I ask what you were exploding?” 

“So my totally awesome cousin Hurk gave me some dynamite that he made himself, and of course being a good buddy I told him I would try it out! Well, silly me I didn’t realise that Hurk only knows how to make short-fused dynamite! So when I went to light it, it exploded preemptively so that’s why there’s those scorch marks… ma’am.” 

Veronica cocked her head to the side, giving the man an incredulous look, “Would you be offended if I said that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard?” He thought about it for a moment before responding sincerely “Nope.” The deputy nodded, saying “Well I appreciate the honesty! Unfortunately, I’ve gotta call the station for this one.” She fished her badge from her pocket. The man crossed his arms, asking “Well what exactly are the charges?” 

“Uhm… detonation of an explosive device and illegal possession for one.” 

“I supposed I can’t argue with that.” He said amiably, watching Veronica reach for her radio off the utility belt she still hadn’t removed after work. 

The pair sat on the curb together, one handcuffed one not. “So you’re the Sharky Boshaw?” Ronnie asked, giving him a mischievous smile. Sharky grinned and shrugged modestly “The one and only!” 

“You’re a legend around the station, I’m surprised I haven’t seen you before! Out of curiosity… why choose this spot for blowing shit up?” 

“Well I was actually on my way to the store when I saw this spot and thought to myself ‘That would be a good field to set off some fireworks’. Then I remembered Hurk had put his stuff in my backseat, and that dynamite is just a less pretty firework, so here we are!” 

When his story was finished, V gave him a look that was part amused, part withering glance. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.” He shrugged with a lackadaisical smile. Before either of them could continue the conversation, a light brown Crown Vic pulled up and the sirens on the roof let out a quick whoop before one of the night shift deputies stepped out. “Hey Veronica! Boshaw, the backseat’s ready for you!” He said, helping Sharky stand and turn towards the car. Veronica stood with him, and gave a curt nod to her coworker, “Thanks for coming out, Sam.” 

Finally after that detour, V was almost home. It was a relatively long drive back and forth, but she didn’t mind it. Working with Sheriff Whitehorse was worth it since she’d known him almost half of her life. Veronica and her mom had moved to Hope County when she was only 12, her mom found work as an officer and then an office administrator for Earl until Nancy came along and gave her mom the chance to take her pension, and start a new job as a conservation officer at a small national park nearby called Polebridge. 

The actual sheriff’s office was in Missoula, about two hours away from Hope County, making Veronica’s drive home take about an hour since she lived practically in between the two. 

 Keeping her eyes on the road, she dug one-handed through her purse for her phone. Once it was in hand she said “Hey Google, call Mom.” and a soft chirp came from the device, processing the demand before dialing. Three rings in- a cheery voice answered. “Hey sweetie!” 

“Hey, mom, I just had a question?”

“Sure what’s up?”

She paused, rethinking her request for a moment. In that second, her nightmare from last night danced through her thoughts and her mind was made up. “Oh um, well I’m going out on a warrant tonight, and I was wondering if you could watch Olive for me? It’s probably nothing, I just had a weird feeling.” 

“Of course! I’d love to see my grandkitty! I’m glad you know when to listen to your gut.” 

“Well I learned from the best! I just got home now, can I pack her up and head over?”

“That’s fine! I’ll be here for a bit. Can I plan on you staying for dinner?”

“Uh… yeah that’ll work, I don’t have any plans. I’ll see you soon, love you!” 

“Love you too!” 

The line disconnected with a click as Veronica pulled into her driveway and stepped out of the car, fetching her keys from the caribinger she kept it on. As she approached the door, she heard insistent meowing on the other side. “I’m comin’…” She chuckled and pushed the door open to reveal Olive, who immediately rushed to hug her legs as she stepped over the threshold. “Hey monster, ready to see grandma?” She asked in a baby voice and grinned at her, reaching down to pick her up. As soon as she did- the cat clambered up to her shoulder and balanced precariously “Why are you like this?” She joked, removing her before making her way to the hallway closet and pulling out the cat carrier and a half-full bag of cat food.

Once she’d put a few more odds and ends into an overnight bag, she took out her decorative, pink bong and loaded a bowl. The water bubbled and pure white smoke filled the center chamber as she lit the greenery in the bowl. After coughing her lungs up for a few moments she set the glass piece on the table and stood up, “Okay, now we can go!” She declared and bundled Olive and all her things into the Miata. 

In a quick 15 minutes- the two of them pulled up in front of her mom’s. It was a tidy ranch style home, painted robin’s egg blue with crisp white shutters. V knocked on the door, Olive’s carrier in one hand. 

Her mom answered the door with a sweet smile on her features, immediately wrapping the deputy in a tight hug, “Hi Ronnie!” She exclaimed before pulling back. “Hi mom!” She responded and stepped through the door, setting Olive down. Sarah Rook looked like an older version of Veronica except her hair was a chestnut brown as opposed to V’s dirty blonde; they shared aquamarine eyes and a light spattering of freckles.

The younger woman pulled the zipped and freed the hyper cat, who immediately jumped from containment to survey her surroundings. “Someone’s impatient!” Her mom chuckled and watched the cat sprint off into the hallway. “She takes after me I guess.” Veronica smiled and inhaled deeply, “Is that steaks and mac and cheese I smell?” 

“Well I thought I’d at least fatten you up before you leave tonight.” Her mom said and ushered her into the dining room. There was a round white table there that was joined by a tall china cabinet filled with memorabilia. The places had already been set, two red and white checkered table mats sat across from each other at the corresponding seats and the silverware was laid out neatly. “Sounds good to me, I’m starving!” Veronica took a seat and watched her mom buzzing about the kitchen as she put the finishing touches on their meals. 

Once everything was done, the table was filled with food. A bowl of salad in the middle, with a basket of rolls to the side. Their plates were adorned with juicy t-bone steaks, mac and cheese, and potato salad. “I knew there was a reason I hadn’t put you in a nursing home…” V joked as she savored a bite of the rare steak, just how she liked it. Her mother scoffed, and took a sip of water, “As if you could.” They both shared a smile and then turned to see Olive padding into the room, her head in the air as she scented the air. “What a brat.” Veronica said as she jumped up on the table expectantly. “You did say she took after you!” Her mom retorted, picking up the naughty cat and setting her on the floor. “So, what’s this warrant you’re going on?”

“Mom, you know I’m not supposed to divulge any details...”

“Oh please, I used to be in the game, and still kind of am. I worked for Whitehorse long before you did, I don’t think I need to be counted as a citizen.” She said, rolling her eyes. Veronica looked uneasy as she considered it for a moment, then relented; “It’s some doomsday cult leader… Joseph Seed. Something about him really freaked me out.” She confessed, almost hanging her head. Being freaked out was not the norm for this deputy. “Why’s that?” 

“I think it’s just his ability to brainwash all of these people… anyone who can do that has too much power. Also Earl is scared of him, which is weird. He’s usually so gungho about catching the bad guys, but he doesn’t even want to go on this warrant.” 

“That’s certainly odd. I’ve never seen that man back down, there must be something seriously bad going on.” Her mom looked off, her brow furrowed in deep thought. “Hopefully this mission will just be in and out. That way I can get back to my baby!” She said the last part in a higher pitch, directing it at the cat, who was sitting in the window behind them. “I hope so too sweetie. People like him are the reason I’ve got a bunker.” Ronnie smirked, saying “Yeah you and everyone else in Hope County, it seems like.” 

“It never hurts to be prepared!” 

“I guess so.” She relented, standing and grabbing their dirty dishes. 

After all the dishes were cleaned and hugs were shared, Veronica stretched and glanced at the clock which showed 10:45pm. “Man how’d it get so late so fast?” She mused and stroked Olive’s soft little head. “Hopefully a late dinner won’t give you any nightmares.” Her mother thought out loud and wrapped Veronica in another suffocating hug. “It was nice having dinner with you baby, I love you!” She smooched Ronnie on the cheek before pulling away and giving her a loving grin. “I had a good time, and the steaks were amazing. Thanks for having me over, I love you too!” She returned the kiss on the cheek and put her hand on the doorknob. As she stepped out her mother wished her luck on the warrant later, and then she was in her car once more. 

20 minutes later, V was brushing her teeth, staring at herself in the mirror wearing a simple black night dress that fell to her thighs and was fringed with lace at the bottom. Long day… who knows when that asshole Burke is gonna call me.’ She thought, spitting out the toothpaste and wiping her mouth with the back of her arm.  As she flopped into bed, the black sheets felt cold without Olive’s presence, but she felt it was for the best. It was 11:11pm as she glanced at the clock. “Make a wish…” She murmured while her eyes shut, the feeling of a full stomach lulling her to sleep. 

A blaring ringing tore through the dark silence in Veronica’s bedroom. It was her phone, blasing her generic android ringtone. Her eyes snapped open and she grasped for her phone, having to blink the bleariness away before seeing that it was Hudson calling her. She looked at the clock for the second time that night to see only two hours had passed, making it around 1am. She slid the green answer icon across the screen and answered, her voice thick with annoyance, “Hello?” Instead of Joey’s pleasant voice, she was met with Marshal Cameron Burke’s gruff one, “Rook, get your ass up and get dressed. We’re executing this warrant now.” 

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Yeah, time to arrest that asshole Joseph Seed.” Burke practically shouted, and then Veronica was met with a dial tone. She scoffed, pulling the phone from her ear to look at it and see only her lock screen, a photo of Olive in a taco costume. “Guess I’m getting ready.” She grumbled and turned on the lamp sitting on her nightstand. The light flooded every corner of the room, forcing V to squint as she flipped the covers off and walked over to a chair in the corner of the room that was covered with clothes and blankets. She snatched her green work button up before finding a tank top and some jeans. On top of her dresser, she eyed her jewelry box and plucked out a rose gold heart-shaped locket with a matching chain. It was engraved ‘To Veronica, Love nana’ Once she was dressed, she buckled her utility belt and hurried down the stairs to the front door. 

Something forced her to stop and take a look at the open plan townhome. All was calm and nothing stirred in the living room, yet she felt eerie as she left. Almost like she was abandoning her castle. She shook her head, shaking the thought off and stepping through the door to lock it. As she was walking to the car she pulled out her wallet from her back pocket, it was a replica of the one used in Pulp Fiction that said ‘BAD MOTHERFUCKER’ on the side. She opened the zippered secret pocket, pulling out a faded scrap of paper. On it was written ‘Good luck on your first day! -Mom’. She’d slipped her that on her first day at the sheriff’s department. At the time, V had laughed and said “I’m not a kid!” But stowed it away nonetheless as a good luck charm. A sudden, bone-chilling breeze whipped across the land, forcing a shiver to wrack her body. Veronica stepped into her car, feeling like this was going to be a long night. 

The deputy’s hands clenched the steering wheel- frustration written all over her features. She’d already been to the station only to get redirected to some field by Nancy, who was the only one not joining this adventure. Apparently the sheriff had asked her to come in and man the scanner, just in case things got out of hand and they needed to call reinforcements. Ronnie shook her head as she saw Hudson, Whitehorse, Pratt, and Burke standing in front of a matte black helicopter that had a badge on the side. Upon walking up to join them, Veronica called “Well this is fancy!” Staci stepped up next to the marshal, exclaiming “Yeah, the feds decided to help us out on this one!” He clapped Burke on the shoulder- earning him a heated glare. “Anyways… everyone pile in. Hudson, you’re flying us.” The grumpy man got to the point, motioning everyone into the copter. 

In no time they were in the air, flying to Joseph’s Compound on an island in the middle of Hope County. Veronica looked at the screen of the gps in the front, searching for the time. She found that it was 2:37am, and asked “So what exactly is the benefit of going to get him so late?” Cameron replied- his voice dripping with unearned confidence “The benefit, Rook, is catching him by surprise.” As Ronnie was about to speak up, Pratt cut in with, “You don’t catch men like Joseph Seed off guard.” 

At that moment Joey spoke up, “Crossing the Henbane now.” Everyone looked out of the wide windows, only to catch sight of a perfect rendition of Joseph Seed’s face captured forever in stone in way of a towering monolith. “Crazy motherfucker…” Burke murmured, his gaze held by the monument. “Jesus Christ.. we’re officially in peggie country.” Hudson shook her head before looking back to the skies. “You know, they call this Angel’s Peak. It’s a holy place for them.” Pratt said, sounding almost wistful.

“How much longer?” Cameron asked. 

“Just long enough for you to change your mind so we can turn this bird around.” Whitehorse insisted. “You want me to ignore a federal warrant, sheriff?” Burke scoffed.

“No sir, I want you to understand the reality of this situation. Joseph Seed… he’s not a man to be fucked with. We’ve had a few run ins with him before and it hasn’t always gone our way. Sometimes.. sometimes it’s better to just leave well enough alone.” 

Burke scoffed, lifting up the warrant. “Yeah, well we have laws for a reason; and Joseph Seed’s gonna learn that.” Instead of replying to that, the sheriff radioed Nancy to make sure she was still there, and told her that if she didn’t hear from them in 15 minutes to call backup. V looked down and saw a white church surrounded by other smaller buildings, she was mystified. The whole situation didn’t even seem real. ‘Maybe it’s just because it’s late and I haven’t gotten any good rest lately.’ She thought, trying to comfort herself. Somehow it didn’t help. 

“So what’s with calling them ‘peggies’? I’ve never heard anyone at the station call them that.” Veronica asked, hoping to lighten the mood. “Project Eden’s Gate. P. E. G. It’s what the locals call them.” Earl explained. Somehow she knew he was trying to distract himself as well. 

As they got closer, it was obvious there were people everywhere. “So much for taking him by surprise.” She muttered, shaking her head and thinking ‘I could be asleep right now.’ The helicopter jerked slightly as it landed on the ground, the blades whirling to a stop. All of them exited the bird, taking in their surroundings. Peggies surrounded them on all sides and the compound had as many as 12 buildings; dorms, a barn, and various other houses. The cult members regarded them suspiciously, casting daggers their ways and muttering insults. Ronnie looked to her left as they walked down the main path, there was a man wielding a flamethrower and keeping a pire of fire sufficiently lit. “They don’t fuck around…” V commented, her brow furrowed. 

The group made their way into a fenced corridor topped with an arch that said ‘Church of Eden’s Gate’ with the cross adorning the center. As they walked, a creaking then metal clanging could be heard behind them, causing Veronica to whip around only to witness them closing the gate behind them. “Why are they closing the gate?” Joey asked, looking to her partners for answers but receiving nothing. They approached the door to the church and could hear a choir of members singing a hymn as Whitehorse motioned for them to hold up. “Going in there, we do this my way, quietly.” He said sternly, mainly for Burke’s benefit. Cameron smirked and put a hand on Earl’s shoulder, “Relax sheriff. You’re about to get your name in the papers.” Veronica couldn’t help but shake her head, something was wrong here. 

As the white double doors swung inward, V took in the scene and was enthralled. Joseph was standing at the front of the church delivering a sermon, “Something is coming… you can feel it can’t you? We are creeping towards the edge, and there will be a reckoning. Because we know what happens next; they will come for us… to take from us. Take our guns, take our freedom, take our faith. We will not let them!” The church patrons were captured by his presence, hanging on every word. 

The deputy, marshal, and sheriff made their way to the platform Joseph stood on. White candles surrounded him, casting a holy glow on his features. “We will not let their greed, their morality, or their depravity hurt us anymore!” The preacher’s voice grew as Marshal Burke reached him and held the paper warrant aloft. Whitehorse murmured “Goddammit…” and Cameron said forcefully “Joseph Seed, we have here a warrant for your arrest, under suspicion of kidnapping with intent to harm. I’m gonna need you to step down with your hands where I can see them, and come with us.” Veronica noticed three figures she hadn’t seen practically melting out of the shadows to stand behind The Father.

“Here they are, the locusts in our garden. They’ve come to take me from you, to destroy all we’ve built!” The peggies started to converge around Joseph, their voices joining together as they objected. He parted through them, his calm demeanor quieting their shouts. “We knew they would come. This is what we’ve prepared for. Go…” He sent them off and came to stand in front of the pews, raising his hands up. “I saw the lamb of the first seal and I heard the noise as if of thunder as one of four beasts sang ‘Come, see’-”

Cameron cut him off, “Step forward!” Joseph stepped closer- undertered from preaching, “And I saw and behold, it was a white horse... and Hell followed with him.” He finished while looking from Earl to Ronnie and finally holding out his hands, a worn brown rosary dangled from his wrist. “Rook, cuff this son of a bitch.” Burke growled. 

V stepped forward, about to pull out her cuffs when the people behind him caught her eye once more. She recognised them to be his family. From right to left; there was a gruff looking man with scar tissue climbing up his side, next to him a beautiful young woman wearing no shoes and a lacey, floral dress. Veronica’s gaze lingered on her a moment before she took in the last figure- a tall man wearing an expensive looking duster. His piercing stare found hers and she felt as though he was seeing straight into her soul. Ice filled her veins and she froze in place, suddenly feeling like a gazelle who had just realised the lion was upon her but only when it was already too late. There was so much animosity in the man’s eyes, like he hated her for even thinking of taking his brother. 

“Earth to Veronica.” Burke’s annoyed voice snapped her from the trance she was in, causing her to shiver before finally producing the cuffs. The metal clinked around Joseph’s small wrists, and right as she was about to secure the second ring, he turned his hand to grip her wrist tightly and V looked into his eyes. “God will not let you take me.” He said calmly without an ounce of doubt. “Good thing God doesn’t get to decide in the end.” She retorted before shaking off his hand and slapping the final cuff on with a resounding click.  

As they walked out the church doors with Joseph in cuffs, armed peggies started to surround them. “Back up!” Hudson yelled, taking lead. Burke pushed a woman down when she got too close, and the crowd became more riled up, closing in as they walked to the helicopter. Soon, they started throwing rocks at the group and screaming, trying to defend their Father. The whole time Joseph stayed eerily silent, even as they were getting into the copter. Pratt fired off a few warning shots to the cultists that were trying to mob the vehicle, Veronica and Burke pushed a few of them from the copter as they gained height, yet the peggies continued trying to swarm them.

One of the cultists did something, because the helicopter went into a tailspin, and the engine sputtered. Joseph looked skyward and began singing Amazing Grace, his tone calm despite the chaos. They made impact with a tree, then another and everyone but Joseph was screaming, their lives flashing before their eyes. Upon impact, the whole world cut out and everything was black.

Veronica’s eyes opened, and the world spun in streamers of color. Nancy’s frantic voice could be heard over the ringing in her ears, she was yelling into the helicopter’s headphones. She looked around and saw Burke across from her, dangling by his seatbelt, Earl was next to him, doubled over; and Joey was to her right. She tried to take in a deep breath and sputtered on thick smoke that was no doubt coming from the engine. Before V could swing forward and grab the headset to alert Nancy, she was pushed lightly back into her seat by a battered Joseph Seed. He smiled at her softly, grabbing the headset on his own while maintaining eye contact. “I told you that God wouldn’t let you take me…” He murmured soothingly. “We’ll see about that…” Veronica persisted. He shook his head and spoke into the headset mic, “Dispatch? Everything is just fine here. Call no one.” Veronica scoffed, ‘Surely Nancy will know something is wrong-’ The thought began to cross her mind before she heard her last hope’s response: “Yes, Father. Praise be to you.” Her mouth dropped open in shock and horror, watching the man she came to apprehend smirk before whispering “No one is coming to save you.” 

He climbed from the wreckage and met a handful of his flock, reassuring them in a hushed tone. V started to struggle against her seatbelt, which was stuck fast. “Fuck, fuck, fuck..” She muttered and beat at the clip. Her companions began to wake and she turned to see Joseph standing on the hood of a car, his hands raised as he delivered an impromptu sermon, “The first seal is broken… now we must take what we need, for this world will be no more. We must stop all those that stand in our way- including these harbingers of doom. Begin the reaping!” He screamed the last sentence into the night air, his followers cheering. 

They swarmed the copter for the second time that night, Veronica, Joey, and the others squirmed trying to get free. Hudson freed herself finally, only to be savagely pulled from the wreckage kicking and screaming. “Joey!” Veronica yelled, reaching after her only to just miss her hand. More peggies ran over and were about to reach in, when a ring of flames surrounded them instead. “Fuck!” V exclaimed, pulling frantically at her seatbelt. Burke was able to free himself and dash out of the small opening in the wall of fire. Heat was searing her skin and desperation made her claw at the restraint harder and harder, finally the belt snapped and she tumbled forward to what used to be the roof of the vehicle. Ronnie caught herself just barely and found herself sprinting away into the foreboding woods. 

Branches whipped at her face, scratching her cheeks and forcing her to hold her hands out in front of her. Not far behind, the men who hunted her yelled, “She’s escaping! Grab her!” Emotions overwhelmed her; panic, fear, anger, confusion. “Goddammit give me a break!” She huffed, breath ragged from sprinting. She spotted a soft light in the distance, a campfire. V ducked behind a thick tree trunk- whipping her head around in both directions wildly, adrenaline and fear coursing through her. The angry voices were distant enough for her to turn and survey the campsite. 

There were two lawn chairs on either side of the fire, and a cabin beyond that. One of the cultists patrolled the perimeter, both hands on his handgun. She caught sight of a sizable branch in front of the fire, and knew what she had to do. Ronnie crept forward on the balls of her feet, trying to avoid any stray twigs as she made her way to the branch. Finally she was there, taking the worn wood in her hands and feeling the weight of it. ‘This should do..’ She thought with a grim look. The deputy continued forward, waiting for just the right moment to slip behind the guard. Veronica gripped the bat harder and was about to swing when the guard turned around, surprise on his features. She wasted no time slamming the branch down on his head with a crack as he turned his gun towards her. The first blow slowed him- and for good measure she delivered the finishing blow. Through the branch, she could feel his skull give and an initial spray of blood shot from the wound, flecking V’s face in red freckles. She gasped and looked down to see his body twitch twice more before stilling, his heart steadily pumping out his life force.

Veronica felt cold as she watched the light drain from his eyes, shock starting to take over. She’d never actually killed anyone before. The world faded back piece by piece as she grabbed the man’s gun, and more screams came from the woods. She had to keep moving. A small drop off into the woods was her escape, and she crouched in the ferns on the woodland floor. There was another fire in the distance, and her enemies were scouring the area for her and Burke. 

Suddenly- her radio crackled, causing her to jump and grab it from her belt to muffle the speaker. “Hello? Hello.. it’s Burke… I think I lost them.. I see a trailer ahead across a bridge and I’m going to try to get inside. If anyone is still alive, if anyone is out there...” The signal was lost and it cut out. “Well I guess that’s where I’m going.” V sighed, and started slowly making her way through the woods. She passed the second fire, narrowly avoiding detection by two guards standing there. From there, she ascended a small hill that led to the bridge the marshal had mentioned. It creaked as she took to the wooden planks, practically crawling her way to the other end. When she got there, a white trailer with a green roof stoof in front of her. There were steps leading up to the back door which she pushed open cautiously, eyes darting side to side straining to catch any movement in the darkened abode. 

As soon as she cleared the door Burke was to her left, hands out and ready to attack. Veronica grabbed his arms, stopping him in midair before he regonised her. “Oh my god, Rook… you’re alive!” He cried with relief. “Yeah, no thanks to you, asshole. You left me to die back there!” She scoffed, glaring daggers at him. “I… It was just fight or flight, I was-” He struggled to defend himself.

“It doesn’t matter. Whitehorse told you this was a bad idea, this is your fault no matter what you have to say.” Ronnie cut him off, pointing an accusatory finger at him. When he had no retort she continued, “Now we have to find a way out of this shit show, and to rescue the others. Did you have a plan?” Burke sighed, walking further into the trailer, motioning for her to follow. The walls were wood panelled, and words were scratched into most of the walls; ‘The Father’, ‘Walk the path’, along with other mantras and bible verses. Pictures were also posted all over the spots that had no words. They all depicted the members of the Seed family in various poses and situations. One such picture was a framed portrait of all of them, Cameron grabbed this and stared into their eyes. He looked haunted. 

“The plan is to put all of these fuckers in jail. No matter what it takes.” He gathered himself before tossing it on the table and going to point out of one of the front windows. “To get out of here, I was thinking I could try to hotwire that truck, unless the keys are in it. It’s probably only a couple hours back to Missoula, then we’re gonna come back here with the National fucking Guard, and take care of these lunatics.” 

“Fine, let’s just get out of here before-” Veronica was cut off by a shot ringing out, and one of the windows behind her shattering into a spray of glass. “They’re in there!” Screamed a man, and more shots were fired at the trailer. “These guys just don’t give up!” She exclaimed, exasperated. Burke took shelter against one of the walls, pulling out his gun to fend off the attackers. V scanned the room and found a gun mounted on the wall, she grabbed it and cocked it before crouching under the shattered window, sitting up to aim outside. There were four peggies firing at them. She took aim at the first, shooting him square in the chest and knocking him to the ground. Burke took out one on the other side then turned to say “Cover me! I’m gonna go get that truck started!” Veronica nodded curtly before turning to shoot out the window twice more. 

Even more cultists were arriving at the scene and taking up arms, it seemed almost hopeless. V fired shot after shot, taking out as many as she could until she finally heard the sweet roar of an engine, and Cameron shouted for her to join him in the truck. “Finally, fuck!” She gasped, dashing from the trailer and ripping open the door to the vehicle. “Let’s fucking go!” He yelled while she slammed the door and immediately leaned out of the window to shoot at the peggies behind them. Burke careened down the simple dirt road, Veronica shooting at their enemies as they approached a chain link fence and busted through the gate with no problem, then they were crossing a bridge to the main road. 

Burke was gasping, close to panic, while V just felt numb. ‘Shock must be setting in, great.’ She thought distantly. “God, I had no idea Rook. I didn’t know how bad it was, how right Whitehorse was… I wish we’d never served that warrant.” He rambled, glancing between the deputy and the road. “It’s too late for wishes, Burke… they’ve got the road blocked!” She exclaimed at the sight before her; peggies had their trucks and sawhorses blocking off the next section of street. She lifted her gun once more, shooting at them while Cameron swerved wildly to avoid the obstacles. One of the cultists to their right set off a flare, letting the rest of them know where they were. 

The pair crashed through another barricade, and Ronnie kept shooting at the people pursuing them that were in an identical looking truck. “We aren’t losing them marshal!” She shouted. “Alright, I guess we gotta try something else.” He huffed before taking the truck off road, almost going airborne as they crashed through a wooden fence. Blinding headlights were blazing behind them as more and more peggies joined the chase. Veronica happened to glance in the bed, and spotted some red sticks. “Oh fuck yeah.” She chuckled, reaching out of the window and grabbing a stick before producing her simple purple lighter that had miraculously stayed in her pocket. She lit the fuse on the dynamite, squinting her eyes as the cord came to life and the flame hissed. V chucked it at one of the trucks behind them, causing a loud boom and fire bloomed from the wreckage. “Shit! That’s pretty satisfying.” She commented, turning to Burke who still looked too scared to be impressed. 

After lighting a couple more sticks and tossing them out, causing some major chaos, they found themselves about to go under an overpass. Right before they passed underneath, a sleek white plane flew out of the clouds and began shooting at them, hitting some green crates on the side of the road only for them to explode. Keying into this as they finally passed under the bridge, she fired quickly at the crates scattered around an upcoming roadblock, sending people flying in every direction. “A plane, are you kidding me?” Burke yelled and pounded a fist against the wheel.

A gargantuan bridge waited on the other side of the roadblock, there was a sign mounted near the top that read ‘Henbane River Bridge’. As they raced across, Cameron took a deep breath before saying “Home free, after this we are home free!” Veronica wasn’t so sure as more planes swooped overhead, and suddenly a high-pitched whistling could be heard getting closer and closer, before V yelled “Bomb!!” and orange flames whooshed across the bridge, enveloping their truck and sending them tumbling into the river below. 

The vehicle was in a freefall with chunks of concrete, the river’s waters rushing up to meet them. Neither of them had time to say anything before they made impact. Veronica was incapacitated for a moment and when her eyes opened they were underwater, trapped once again. She saw Burke across from her pounding on the window, shattering it on his third try and swimming up to the top, leaving her to drown. Ronnie gathered together her last bits of energy, slamming her elbow into the passenger side window until it finally broke, and she maneuvered her way from the descending car. Her arms flailed as her lungs screamed, daring her to take a breath before breaching the surface, and then it went black. 

Not too long later, her eyes snapped open and she grasped at the wet silt underneath her, she was on the shore. On the bridge there were countless flashlights casted down upon the water, looking for her. She heard Marshal Burke yelling off in the distance, and saw a group of peggies pulling him away as he shouted “I am a federal marshal! You can’t do this!” Veronica tried to get the will to get up and run, knowing she was next; but her muscles screamed with exhaustion and wouldn’t cooperate. She was able to lift herself to crawl maybe a foot before collapsing once more, staring up at the sky and trying to accept that this was the end. 

A figure came into her field of vision and the barrel of a shotgun was dangerously close to her head, she didn’t even have the energy to protest as the person lifted her over their shoulder with a grunt, and began carrying her through the woods. Her vision faded in and out, allowing her to see them pass by a radio tower and then a cabin, only to walk down some metal stairs. Then she could fight no more; and everything went black. 

[the-coconut-asado]

A Bit Like Julie Andrews

 A loathsome guest at a dinner party I once attended announced you can make anything taste good with fat.  She said this as I was serving up a chocolate pecan tart promised to the host, and my first instinct was to divert it into her face. I didn’t of course, because violence and whip-smart retorts only ever live in my head. Later on, she invited me into the bathroom to see her new labia piercing. So, mixed messages.

That said, she had a point about fat. I’ve been writing this blog for eight years now and the most shared and liked recipes have lashings of fat and/or sugar in common. No surprises here - as we all aspire to cleaner, increasingly plant based virtue-signalling, how many of us are squirrelling away six pineapple Jaffa Cakes when we think no-one’s looking? Right this minute I am staring longingly across the coffee table at a box of Divine Mint Thins while a sweet potato bakes in the oven. And the rate at which we get through sea salt butter in our house (yep, the one with the extra crunchy salt crystals) is not something I am ever going to admit to my GP. 

But if you all want fat and sugar, then I am here to please. Not necessarily with animal fat, and not always with proper sugar. One of the most versatile oils in my kitchen is coconut, sunflower oil always produces moist and springy sponge cakes and I could almost drink extra virgin olive. And I sometimes supplement no-carb Splenda for sugar in some recipes with zero difference noticed. None of this interferes with the popularity of the finished dish, sometimes it even enhances it - and I am often asked for recipes for dishes I photograph with abandon but haven’t got around to writing up. 

So what follows then is only a bit like Julie Andrews: rather than a selection of my favourite things, it’s a revisiting of some of yours - a Top 4 of those recipes most often requested or dishes shared, fats or sugar included, with a couple of twists thrown in. 

Perfect Roast Pork Belly 

For my money the supreme leader of pork joints is belly - roasted long and slow until those layers of fat melt and the hide turns to the guiltiest pleasure of all: cracking. I used to subscribe to the belief that anything this good was proportionately difficult to achieve - but after many years and attempts, I have found a way as fool-proof and leave-it-alone succulent as you can get. 

My advice is to serve this with creamed corn - fresh corn shucked and simmered in a little butter and cream. Pork and corn are a less-travelled match made in heaven. Cowboys kind of got the hang of it but were seduced into flatulence by the baked bean before the corn craze could really take off. But what the wild west discarded, the barbecue warriors picked up. OK I’m taking The Crown approach to history but you get the picture. Serves 4-6. 

Ingredients

One 2 kg pork belly joint, bone in ideally but not necessary( get your butcher to score the rind)

1 tbsp. each fennel seeds and cumin seeds

1 tbsp, chilli flakes

2 tbsp. Kosher salt

2 onions, cut into wedges

2 carrots cut into chunks

1 leek cut into chunks

200ml sherry or white wine

100ml water

For the creamed corn:

3 fresh ears of corn

50g butter

150ml double cream

Kosher Salt and freshly ground black pepper

How to make.

The night before you aim to roast the pork, get rid of any covering, pat the skin dry, pop it onto a dish and put in the fridge. This will dry out the skin and ultimately product better crackling. 

Heat the oven to 220C (or 210C Fan) and take your belly out of the fridge at least 30 mins before roasting. Pulverise the fennel seeds, cumin seeds, salt and a and chilli flakes in a pestle and mortar. Rub the mix into the scores in the pork rind, then pop into the oven for 25 mins to get the crackling going. 

After 25 mins,remove from the oven and transfer the pork onto a board and reduce the oven to 180C or 175C fan. Working quickly, toss the onions, carrots and leek into the roasting pan and then put the belly joint on top. Pour the sherry or white wine into the roasting pan around, not on, the pork. Return the pork to the oven and roast for two and a half  - 3 hours. 

Check the pork at 2 and a half hours - if you can wiggle the rib bone easily, great, if not, return to the oven for another 30 mins. Remove from the oven again and transfer the roast veg to a bowl and keep warm. Crank the oven back up to 220C and return the joint one last time to crisp up the crackling. 

Remove from the oven and leave to rest for 20 mins before carving

Dutch pancake with caramel apples

Leave It Alone is the best mantra for an easy life in the kitchen. Some dishes were made to be fussed over - risotto, caramel and of course pancakes. But a dutch pancake gives you both time to yourself and a whomping great wow factor when you bring it out of the oven. Thanks to Erin Jeanne McDowell at the New York Times for this little number. (Serves 3-4)

Ingredients

(100 g) plain flour

3 Tbsp. dark muscovado sugar

½ tsp salt

½ tsp cinnamon

½ tsp kosher salt

Pinch ground nutmeg

50g unsalted butter

3 eggs

100ml cashew nut milk (or milk of your choice)

1 tsp vanilla extract

For the caramel apples: 

40g butter

75 ml double cream

110g dark muscovado sugar

3-4 apples (granny smiths are good)

Juice of 1 lemon

1 tsp vanilla essence

Pinch of ground cinnamon

How to make

Heat the oven to 200C fan (210C). Put the butter in a frying pan or skillet that you can use on the hob and in the oven. When the oven is hot, pop the skillet in to melt the butter. 

Mix all the dry ingredients together. Break up the eggs with the milk and vanilla essence then add to the dry ingredients and mix until smooth. 

Peel and core the apples then cut into thin slices and toss in the lemon juice. 

Take the skillet out of the oven (the butter should have melte by now) and pour in the pancake batter. Put back in the oven and set your timer for 20 minutes. 

While the pancake is doing its thing, make the caramel apples. Melt the butter in a saucepan then add the sugar and cream and mix again. Add the apples, stir to coat the apples in the caramel mix, then simmer gently for 5 minutes until the apples soften. Take the pan off the heat and stir in the vanilla essence and cinnamon. 

After 20 minutes, and using protective gloves or oven mitts, remove the skillet from the oven. The pancakes should be all puffed around the edges like a dramatic Yorkshire pudding. 

Pour the caramel apples into the centre, bring to the table and drizzle with double cream while everyone round the table gasps. DO NOT FORGET that the handle is hot so use your oven mitts while handling at the table. 

Stuffed Courgette flowers

This is a romantic dish for me as it reminds me of my first trip to Rome. At the same time it’s tempura on steroids. Cook the whole (usually tiny) courgette with the flowers attached - it may not look as pretty but there is more flavour and nutrition (always handy when you are taking a bath in carbs). Like the Dutch pancake, this dish gives good gasp when it arrives on the table. (Serves 4). 

Ingredients

8 courgettes with flowers attached

250g ricotta cheese, soft goat’s cheese or goat’s curd

6 anchovies, finely chopped

1 tbsp each finely chopped mint and parsley

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the batter:

70g cornflour

30g plain flour

80ml ice-cold sparkling water or lager

400ml sunflower oil for frying

How to make:

Mix the cheese, anchovies, herbs and seasoning in a bowl. 

Taking each courgette, gently splay the petals of the flower and remove the stamens with a small knife. Using a teaspoon,  stuff each flower with the filling then twist the tips of the petals to seal. 

In another bowl mix the batter ingredients and leave to stand for 5 minutes. 

Heat the oil in a deep pan or flat-bottomed wok. Line a serving dish with kitchen paper. Once the oil is hot, take each courgette in turn, dip it in the batter (courgette and flower) and then carefully lay it in the oil and deep fry for a couple of minutes, until the batter turns golden and crisp. Try not to crowd the pan, you can probably fry three at a time. Remove each courgette and flower from the oil and onto the paper lined dish. When all the courgettes have been cooked, remove the kitchen paper and serve while hot, with some quick pickled red onion slices on the side. 

Sweet potato Gnocchi with pesto

Anything a potato can do, a sweet potato can do as well if not better. Plus it’s packed with antioxidants (not red for nothing) and lower in the demon carbs. When in Buenos Aires, gnocchi is traditionally eaten on a Thursday (a ritual they share with Rome) and it’s my niece Luli’s favourite dish. Wonder what she will think of this version? The gnocchi is based on a recipe by Jonny Rhodes (Serves 4)

Ingredients

1 large sweet potato

1 cup plain flour

½ cup wholemeal flour

1 tsp. Ground cumin

½ tsp cinnamon

¼ tsp allspice

½ tsp kosher salt

1 egg

50g butter

2 tsp apple cider vinegar

For the pesto:

1 large bunch basil

1 tbsp, pinenuts

2 fat cloves garlic

25g grated parmesan

½ cup - ¾ cup extra virgin olive oil

How to make.

Heat the oven to 190C fan and roast the sweet potato for 1-11/4 hours (the potato should be soft inside and give when you insert a knife). Cool, skin and mash. 

In a bowl, mix the flours, potato mash, spices, salt and egg. Roll into a ball then cover with cling film and pop into the fridge for an hour to firm up. 

After an hour, remove from the fridge and cut into six portions. Dust your work surface with flour then taking each portion in turn, roll into a long sausage and cut 18-20 portions. You can either leave the portions like this or roll each portion over a gnocchi paddle to give it ridges, then place on an floured baking sheet. Repeat with each portion, then cover all the gnocchi and refrigerate until ready to cook.

 Bring a pan of salted water to the boil, working in small batches, add the gnocchi to the pan and continue to boil. As the gnocchi float to the surface, remove with a slotted spoon and transfer to a greased baking sheet. 

Make your pesto, put all ingredients except the olive oil into the food processor and pulse until chopped small. Keep the motor running and gradually add the olive oil until the mixture thickens. Turn off the motor and leave to one side while you saute the gnocchi. 

Heat a large frying pan and add the butter. when melted and sizzling add the gnocchi in a single layer and cook undisturbed for 2 or 3 minutes, until the bottoms are light brown (you may need to do this in batches). Then add 2 tbsp butter, 3 tbsp water and the apple cider vinegar and swirl around the gnocchi. 

Serve immediately in pasta bowls and drizzle the pesto over the top. Grate over some parmesan. 

[fullmetalscullyy]

day 6 - it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas

the magic of christmas time - royai advent calender

24 days - 24 oneshots | with angst, fluff, and everything in between | both canon and au

a collection of christmas themed oneshots to celebrate royai | chapter prompts based on my favourite christmas songs

read on ao3

it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

soon the bells will start

and the thing that will make 'em ring is the carol that you sing

right within your heart

Riza entered the office with a stack of paperwork in her arms. Her forearms were beginning to cramp from the weight of it all, but she continued without complaint. Placing it on her desk, she sighed quietly in relief. The rest of the team filed in shortly after her arrival, the final person to show face being the Colonel.

A questioning frown formed on her face when she spotted the cardboard drinks holder from a coffee shop in his hand.

“What have you got there?” Havoc asked, amused. Mustang was trying to close the door to his office while juggling the large holder and a file in his arms. Fuery hurried over and did it for him, earning a grateful thank you from the Colonel.

“Festive hot drinks!” He placed the holder on the boy’s desk. “Help yourselves. I got one of each.”

They all stood and approached, voicing their thanks as they picked up and looked at the label of each one. The only one that was left was Riza’s favourite. The boys knew that, so left that for her to take. She was touched.

The drinks were ridiculously overpriced and unnecessary additions to an already expensive holiday season. However, she did have a soft spot for a caramel infused coffee. A few weeks ago – the coffee shops had started to celebrate the holiday season early – she’d voiced her disapproval of Mustang going out and spending a fortune on them all for the drinks, but he’d just smiled and announced her favourite flavour from when she was a teenager, holding it out as an offering.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked, her mouth, sadly, salivating at the thought of drinking it again. Her body ignored her thoughts on the whole thing. She wholly opposed the idea of ramping up the prices for a simple coffee with a splash of caramel in it.

“Because… It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!” he sang loudly – not well – with an excited grin on his lips by the time he was finished.

“It’s two weeks away,” Riza deadpanned, which caused him to shrug in response. He never lost his grin.

“So what?” Mustang asked. “There are Christmas songs on the radio, the snow is beginning to fall –”

“The overpriced drinks are in the coffee shops,” Breda added, taking a sip, and pulling the cup away with an impressed look on his face. Apparently, that flavour was a hit.

“Exactly,” Mustang grinned. “It’s definitely beginning to look like Christmas.”

“They’ve been in the shops for ages,” Havoc piped up, regarding the drinks, causing Breda to smack him on the arm with his free hand.

“Stop dampening the spirit,” he snapped.

“I’m not!” Havoc protested.

“Anyway,” Fuery interrupted, eyeing the two superior officers. “Any plans this year, sir?” Fuery asked.

“Visiting my family,” Mustang beamed excitedly. He really did love this holiday. “Which reminds me – any of you want to come? The Madame insists if you don’t have any other plans.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Breda replied. “I’m not passing up an event like that.”

The rest agreed, then all turned expectantly towards Riza.

“Oh, I don’t know –” she began her polite and automatic response as she began to decline the offer, but she never got very far.

“Oh, come on, Hawkeye,” Fuery begged. She blinked back at him, surprised at his disappointed plea. “Please come.”

“Yeah, Hawkeye, you have to,” Havoc nodded eagerly.

“It certainly wouldn’t be Christmas without you there,” Falman interjected.

“Yeah, we’d be down one team member, and that just wont do,” Breda chipped in with a wink.

Riza stared at them all, her gaze switching between as she clamoured for a response. She certainly didn’t expect that kind of reaction, and she was touched. It was… It felt nice to be missed so badly, even if the day wasn’t even here yet. A warmth spread across her chest, settling in her heart. She hadn’t known these boys long and had kept them somewhat at arm’s length, finding it difficult to trust them completely given her personal experiences, however they understood and took their time with her, offering her all the space she needed. Seeing their expectant looks, she found herself not wanting that space right now. It always felt like she was on the outer circle, looking in. Roy was a natural socialite and they all bonded and clicked immediately. It took Riza longer to be able to open herself up to them like that, and to be perfectly honest, she hadn’t fully yet.

Roy held out the “Christmas Caramel” spiced, or whatever, coffee, extending the offer to her with a grin. “What do you say?”

She didn’t want to be left out anymore.

“Oh,” she replied, a smile taking over her face. She was just going to spend it alone anyway, like usual, so why the hell not? “Sure.” An excited whoop went around the office, and Riza jumped at the sudden rise in volume. Again, that was unexpected. Christmas was two weeks away, but the men were acting as if it was tomorrow. Riza couldn’t stop the smile from spreading all the way across her face. Roy caught her eye and grinned happily at her, before collecting his own spiced hot drink from the cardboard holder and sat down in his chair.

Riza felt excitement flutter in her stomach. Maybe this would be a good one, this year.

No, she knew that with the boys and with Roy, it would be a great one.

[themaskedwriter]

Movie Quotes - Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You always quote movies around Steve, and when he admits he hasn’t seen most of them you organize a movie night. But does he have the guts to admit to you that he’s the Jack to your Rose?

Warnings: Fluffy, nothing really haha, swearing more than likely

Note: This is my submission. My three hints are: - I use an anonymous name for my blog. - My blog could go to war, with the name that I have - I often base my fics off of songs, such as Dodie. 

Word Count: 3,725

The coffee machine buzzed to indicate everyone that it was, in fact, working. However, the noise went past the ears of Bucky - who was leaning against the kitchen counter, hand clasping a mug of tea, as he conversed with Steve. The captain was already dressed - naturally - and he’d already been on a morning run, “to kill some time.”

Something about the air in the room changed when you entered through the open doorway, as you short pajama pants contrasted greatly from Steve’s blue jeans. You moved with a sense of ease to the coffee machine, placing a mug beneath the dispenser location, and pressing “release.”

“Morning, fellas,” you grinned, already chirpy despite the early morn that left only the three of you awake. Where as Steve woke up to run, and Bucky woke up to escape the torment of his mind, you didn’t have any specific reason to awake: or so they thought. In fact, you did. It gave you more minutes with a certain blonde, who was always dressed at 6 in the morning as though it was as normal as tying his laces.

They both shot you a smile in reply, and you removed your mug and took a long slurp - the heat barely making you wince. Moving towards the kitchen island, you placed the mug down before hoisting yourself to sit on the marble finish. Retrieving the baby pink cup to your lips, you took a rewarding slurp, before placing it back down.

“Stevie,” you called, and his eyes instantly darted to meet your own from where they originally rested on his mug - so he didn’t stare at your bare legs for what could be considered too long to be normal. A taunting smirk came to your lips, as you narrowed your eyes: “Hold my pie,” you remarked, in an exaggerated deep and (what was meant to be) masculine voice.

He brought a similar smile to his lips, as he gazed around in thought. “Um…robo-cop?”

“What!? No, you idiot! iRobot!” you laughed, and Bucky chuckled similarly.

“I knew that one,” he muttered, and Steve shot him a glare. However, his gaze weakened as he danced his focus back to you.

“Never seen it,” he admitted, and you almost choked on your drink.

“What? What! How?” you snapped, and as his mouth fell open to answer, you left him impersonating a gold-fish. “That’s it, we’re adding that to the list.”

“This list is gonna be as long as the girl’s who’ve rejected Sam,” Bucky now hissed, which earned a punch in the bicep from Steve. You couldn’t help but giggle though, as you jumped off the counter top with a now empty mug. It always baffled the blonde how you could down it without wincing, though the water was close to boiling.

“Buck does have a point though, we do need to start shortening this list. You free tonight?” you asked, placing the mug in the dishwasher before slamming it closed. Steve was close to having a heart attack internally, as the butterflies that raced around his stomach batted their wings against his heaving chest. Bucky had a smirk, able to hear the erratic heart-race, and so his cheeks naturally darkened in shade. He prayed you couldn’t hear how nervous your simple question made him.

“Yeah, sure,” he breathed, praying to any higher power that his voice sounded level and even: not like a school-girl being hit on by her crush. You shot him a grin, nodding your head.

“Wonderful. I’ll bring three of the movies on our list, including my favourite: iRobot.” And with that refreshing conclusion, like a glass of fresh lemonade during a heat-wave, you skipped out of the kitchen and down the hall. As soon as you were out of sight and ear-shot, and Steve could no longer hear your foot-steps padding, he turned to Bucky in alarm.

“Oh God. What do I wear? What do I do?” he panted, grabbing the elder’s shoulders. Bucky just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Buy some snacks, wear some joggers, and relax: it’s only Y/N,” he grinned, pushing his hands off of him, and vanishing out the room - though not with the same energy you radiated. Steve stared after the two of you, breathing out in tense worry.

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” he hissed.

***

***

After pulling bargains and deals with the rest of the avengers, you’d claimed the main living area for you and Steve. Some, such as Sam, were eager to have the two of you finally go on a date - of sorts - instead of (to quote) “eye-fondling each-other, all the time.” Some led to you being $100 short, as Nat made you pay her to use the other T.V so she could watch her season finale. Tony made sly comments about how he shouldn’t see any weird stains on the sofa, which was rewarded with a smack to the face, and Bucky simply agreed to leave the two of you alone out of the kindness of his scarred heart.

It was rolling to around 8pm, and you were actually shitting yourself. You didn’t think you’d be so nervous, spending alone time with Steve. After all, you’d watched movies with him before, except it was usually with someone else, and it wasn’t as intimate. This wasn’t intimate, though, was it? It was to educate him on the world of pop-culture, it was necessary for him to fit in with the 21st century. However, you knew that was a lie you told yourself in an attempt to clam the swarming thoughts in your mind.

Skipping down the hall in some Hollister joggers, and a black tank top - with three quarter length sleeves that flared out just after the elbow - you made your way into the living area. Steve wasn’t there yet, but it didn’t phase you as you’re agreed to meet at half 8, and it was only twenty past.

Picking up the remote, you went through Netflix and Amazon, getting ready to watch the movies you’d decided to combat for the evening. It first was iRobot - your favourite movie, and the one Steve had failed today’s movie quote quiz you always gave him. Then you’d watch Forest Gump, in which you’d once told him in reassurance that “life was like a box of chocolates” and he thought you were actually offering him a chocolate. Finally, the evening would conclude with Titanic - so you could make non-stop references about Kate and Leo, and Rose and Jack. Always, for your own viewing pleasure of the second hottest male on earth: young Leo. Just as you’d finished sourcing the movies, the door opened and Steve entered with a carrier of snacks, and some bowls stacked in his left hand.

“Hey,” you smiled, sitting up and turning to him. He wore dark blue sweat pants, that were loose around the crotch, and a loose black tee. You didn’t even think he owned loose clothing, but something about this look made him seem squishy adn adorable, and so you beckoned him over with a smile. He pushed the coffee table nearer to the largest sofa, where you were both sitting, and spread out bowls. “What’s in the bag?”

He rose his brows, before furrowing them in thought. “I’m not sure which movie that’s from,” he admitted shyly, and you giggled.

“It’s not a movie quote, silly,” you chuckled, pushing the blanket off your legs and moving closer. He shook his head with a chuckle, before showing you the contents of the carrier.

“Okay, so, we’ve got Haribo,” he said, and you nodded as he poured them into a bowl.

“Iconic,” you chimed.

“Pop-corn,” he spoke, whilst raising the bag of sweet-n-salty pop-corn.

“Classic,” was the grinning response.

“Doritos. You’re, um, favourite flavour,2 he said, mumbling the last part with a nervous blush. You smiled wider, heart fluttering a little at the sentiment.

“Aw, you remembered!” you smiled, your own cheeks heating a little: and you could imagine the teasing from Tony and Sam if they were here.

“And…two beers,” he smirked, before placing down the glass bottles along with an opener. You nodded, diving for one of them, as he collected the bowl holding the pop-corn, and made his way to the sofa.

When he first sat down, it was so apparent he was nervous. You could’ve fitted a small elephant between the two of you, and so you took the executive choice of moving closer to him. So close, in fact, that your thighs brushed. And his cheeks grew darker once more, as he placed the pop-corn bowl in his lap. You took a handful, dragging the blanket so it covered your thighs, and you decided to lean your head against his shoulder subconsciously: it was more comfortable, anyway.

“So, if we start with iRobot,” you said, lifting the remote and pressing play. “This is my favourite movie of all time. And Will Smith is amazing in this. Oh! There’s this really funny scene when Spooner - which is Will Smith - is like ‘a robot can’t paint a masterpiece,’ or something like that: and Sonny - the robot - is like, ‘can you?’ you rambled, smile almost bursting off your face, as you essentially spoiled most of the film before the opening was over. Though he was missing an important part of the movie, he couldn’t help but focus on your face, as you watched the all to familiar scenes whilst your mouth ran a mile a minute. When you were like this, talking about things you adored, he could fall into it and never want to find a way out.

***

***

By now, you were approaching the end of Titanic. You’re body had shifted, so your head was on Steve’s lap - that was concealed by the bright pink blanket - and he’d moved the Doritos to the side so you could snuggle down. Throughout the scenes, his eyes danced down to see your droopy eyes focused on the scenes, an easy smile on your face. From time to time, you’d giggle or repeat a line you liked under your breath, and sometimes you’d tell him a small fact about something in the movie, and the production of it. He wasn’t really listening, just admiring the way you were so intent on knowing everything about anything you loved.

At this moment, the room was pitch black aside from the light glaring off the giant flat-screen. It made the features of your face glimmer, and Steve’s own face look even more enticing, on the moments when you’d chuckle at a joke, and you’d glance up to shoot him a smile - happy he was enjoying this as much as you. The pop-corn was all gone, the Haribo dish half empty, and the beer bottles discarded.

The ship was nearly completely enveloped by the ocean’s relentless waves, bullying against the structure. People were diving off the sinking ship, yelling and shouting radiating through the room. Steve knew of the titanic, as it was before his time, but the movie made it seem more real: the images from the tragedy only drawings or sketches that were released in papers. He also discovered he was a sucker for romances, as he become almost emotionally attached to the couple who nearly got trapped within the filling levels of the boat.

Rose was in the water, yellow life jacket on, as she lay on top of some floating debris. Jack was holding her hand, but Steve knew he was a doomed man. A sniffle sounded, and he glanced down to see tears soaking your cheeks, as you tried to keep your reaction discreet.

“Jack. Jack! There’s a boat Jack,” Rose whimpered, shaking his hands as he lay lifeless. You couldn’t help it, this scene always tore you apart from the inside out. A sniff was all you could do, as snot tried to join the waterfall down your cheeks. Suddenly, a hand was in your hair, and you jumped a little. Then you felt Steve run his fingers through the strands in comfort, and you sniffled with a sad laugh.

“This part always gets to me,” you admitted, through a thick tone. He chuckled gently, watching the moments on the television.

“I’ll never let go: I promise.” she spoke, kissing his wrist before letting him slide into the water. Even Steve had to admit to himself that it was pretty emotional, but something about your reaction made him feel fuzzy inside. You were such a romantic. Suddenly, he felt you shift, as you moved to sit up to wipe your cheeks. He pulled his fingers from your hair, feeling a little embarrassed by the natural reaction - he’d always do it to Bucky’s younger sister whenever she was upset and her brother wasn’t around.

You let out a shy giggle, sniffing and wiping your nose on the back of your wrist.

“Wow. I mean, could you imagine that? Meeting your soulmate, and having to let them sink into the ocean?” you sniffed, turning to meet Steve’s icy gaze. He chuckled, shrugging.

“Been in a similar situation,” he joked, and you covered your mouth.

“Oh God, Steve, I didn’t even think. I didn’t upset you, did I?” you panicked, reaching for the remote to turn it off, though it was nearly finished anyway. He laughed, shaking his head, before catching your wrists.

“Don’t be daft. It was perfect. This whole evening was, pretty perfect,” he blushed, smiling down at your face. It was still flushed form tears, but you didn’t want to break his gaze, as you smiled back. And then his eyes flitted to your lips - for only a second - and your heart beat picked up. His smile dropped, as did yours, and you waited in pure anticipation.

He leaned closer, and your eyes closed, and…

Then you heard a sigh, and you opened to your eyes reluctantly, to see him back to how he was sat before. A feeling of regret and embarrassment came over you.He wasn’t going to kiss you, but now you’ve just completely outed yourself ad embarrassed yourself for expecting it. God, he probably felt pressured. Oh God.

His grip loosened on your hands, and you dropped them to your lap, as Celine Dion sang out the God awful theme song nobody likes. After clearing your throat, a painful silence painting over you both, you nodded.

“Well, goodnight, Stevie. Thanks for, um, joining me,” you smiled, meeting his eyes for only a moment before standing up and essentially sprinting out the room: feeling mortified.

***

***

“So,” Bucky started, staring at Steve - who was still in his running gear, from his routine morning run. Steve didn’t react, instead he watched the mug fill with coffee that had little to no effect on his metabolism. Bucky rose a brow, took a slurp of his drink, then sighed. “Hello?”

“What?” the blonde almost snapped, causing brown brows to raise from the elder super soldier.

“How was your date with Y/N last night?” he wondered, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world: because, to be honest, it was.

“It wasn’t a date.” he muttered, taking his drink and refusing to meet his friend’s eyes.

“Oh no, what happened?” Bucky sighed,. moving closer and placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder. The blonde pulled away and shot him a glare.

“Nothing happened,” he spat. Bucky frowned, before grimacing.

“She didn’t show up?” he asked, sadly, voice dropping to be more empathetic. Steve let out a another huff, and as he was about to retaliate, and tell Bucky to mind his own God damn business, you waltzed into the room. However, it didn’t hold the same spring in your step like usual, and Steve didn’t let this go unnoticed: and neither did Bucky. Instead, he watched with a frown as you shot Steve an almost nervous smile, got your drink, and vanished.

“Okay, what happened?” Bucky snapped, once your footsteps had fallen out of ear-shot.

“What are you talking about, Buck?” Steve groaned, downing his drink to make his escape quicker. Bucky grabbed his best pal’s bicep and rose a brow.

“I mean, she comes in here looking like a deflated balloon, doesn’t say a word to either of us, and doesn’t give you her movie quote trivia question,” Bucky reeled, waiting to gauge his friend’s reaction. Steve sighed, staring at his feet.

“Well, we were watching the movies. And she had her head in my lap. And then she started crying, cause of the movie, and sat up. So, long story short, I nearly kissed her,” he admitted, with a slight blush, and a defeated look clear in his eyes. Bucky broke out into a smile.

“That’s great! that’s so great! So, then what?” he wondered, like a child eager to see what happens next in a movie. But Steve instead shrugged, before glancing up.

“I didn’t kiss her and she bolted.” Steve admitted, broken tone seeping through and making its way into Bucky’s ears. His shoulders sagged, and he frowned at his friend. “I just, I don’t know! I got overwhelmed and I haven’t kissed someone in so long!” he ranted, staring into his friend’s orbs with a pleading look. Bucky gave a sad smile in reply, and rubbed Steve’s arms up and down in comfort.

“You gotta kiss her, Stevie. She’s perfect for you, and she clearly likes you. Why do you think she never quizzes me?” he chuckled, and Steve met his eyes.

“I missed my chance, Buck,” he grumbled. Bucky laughed, shaking his head.

“Don’t do that again. You never got to take Peggy out, don’t do it another time.”

***

***

You sat on your bed, fingers brushing through the book Wanda had recommended - and you’d buried your nose in straight away. Your moment of serene silence was interrupted by a knock on your door.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, stop the music please,” you spoke, placing the book down after “dog-earing” the page. You jumped off the large comforter, moving to the door and opening it to see a tall, broad shoulder super soldier. He breathed out a sigh upon seeing your face. It wasn’t upset, or angry, but more questioning.

“Steve,” you said, a little aghast. He smiled, before sticking his hands in his pocket. “What can I do for you?”

“i need to tell you something,” he said, and something about his tone was almost grave and unsettling. You nodded, stepping to the side to let him into the room, as your heart beat picked up. you then let the door swing closed, and you turned to see him pacing a little, in the middle open space of your corner of the world.

“Stevie, is everything-”

“Don’t. I just, I need to tell you this,” he said, holding a hand up to cut you off. Then, his fingers dug into his jean’s pocket, and he lifted out a folded square of paper. You held your breath, heart pulsing in your ears, as you rung your hands together and waited for him to start.

“Y/N,  I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I’m with you.” he said, voice shaking a little, and your heart lept. Dirty Dancing. “Because, the truth is, you had me at hello,” he continued, not daring to look up to see your reaction. Jerry Maguire. “I think you should be kissed, and often, and by someone who knows how,” he almost admitted, through the infamous lines of Gone with the Wind, and you felt a smile taking over your dainty features. His shoulder’s weren’t as tense, and his voice was calmer, as he knew the words held meaning that he couldn’t explain. “They say, when you meet the love of your life, time stops. And that’s true.” Big Fish. “And, when I’m with you, Y/N. Time does stop. And I don’t know why I didn’t kiss you last night, because I was going to. And I’m sorry for making you think I wouldn’t ever want to, because I do.”

Steve finally took in some air, before glancing up to meet your eyes. He held the paper in his shaking hands, though he didn’t need to read them any longer. You were smiling, the beams from it brighter than those from the sun, and he wanted to catch them in a jar and save for a rainy day. He took a step closer to you, and you decided to let him come to you, the same way he tried to last night.

“I’ve come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is, and always will be, yours,” he chuckled nervously, coming closer to you with every short step taken. You bit down on your lip, nodding to the words originally spoken from Sense & Sensibility. His pale hand took yours, and you looked up to meet his blue orbs that stared into your soul: oh how you wanted to drown in them.

“And you don’t have to feel the same way. I’m not expecting you to say anything. You can tell me to leave, and I’ll leave. But, if you want to give this a shot: so do I. And if it doesn’t work out…well, in all honesty, it would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.” Steve breathed against your lips, forehead almost pressing against your own. His eyes bore into yours, and he waited for you to push him away.

But instead, your lips curved into a smile, and you remarked, “The Fault in our Stars: I didn’t think you’d seen that movie.” And with that, he pressed his lips against yours. You wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer with a smile, before titling your head to deepen the kiss. He was now grinning against your lips, causing you to chuckle from the odd sensation. Pulling away reluctantly, from lack of air, he looked at your blushing face.

“Now that, Steve, should be a famous movie quote,” you smirked, before pressing your swollen lips to his own once more.

[vinodiriso]

Kou/cha. [HANMEI]

@mita-rashi requested a HanMei drabble, something like two weeks ago. This is my headcanon of how they first met. Enjoy.

NOTES:

1: Mei in Chinese can be written with either the character 美 (meaning ‘beautiful’) or the character 梅 (meaning ‘plum’, Japanese: ‘ume’).

Hanzo had already done something for that woman in the handful of months he had spent in the Overwatch base, after the night he faced Genji in combat. Most of the times, it was heavy lifting... literally. He was used to carry around boxes of stuff from his sea days, and he always managed to come across the lab when there was some weighty science machines to move. He never actually cared about it, it was just some minor chores and nothing was ever so hefty to trouble him.

The archer didn’t give much thought to the white-coat-wearing people that needed his help, the only thing that stroke him as odd was how nice one of them was to him. It was not like she was baking him cookies, that be written down, but at least she didn’t shoot him those sour looks he got from various other agents, like that cowboy wannabe or the punk hairdo.

That afternoon, Hanzo was coming fresh out of the shower after an entire morning of shooting practice. He made his way into the base’s small kitchen and started looking for his secret stash, until he heard a voice from behind him: “please, can you take the box on the second from top shelf?”

Hanzo complied without further questioning and grabbed it. He turned to give it to the person requesting it, only to be met by one of the scientists he had helped various times. He didn’t remember her name… not like it was news. He was bad with names, with memories, everything was always a blurry fog.

“There you go,” he mumbled, his words were gentle but his tone wasn’t. She didn’t seem to mind.

“Thank you. Can you make a little room for me too?”

Hanzo stepped to the side and the woman entered the small kitchen. Hanzo returned to his activity of retrieving his belongings. Finally he found the box he was looking for, behind a can of coffee (ugh, he hated coffee). He uncorked it and the amazing, full scent of tea leaves invaded his nostrils.

It was really hard in their days to find actual tea leaves and not extracts, or flavoured tea bags. Agriculture was on the brink of collapse after ways to create synthetic food with cheap processes were invented. Real food costed a hell of a lot money nowadays, and those tea leaves were a most expensive treasure for Hanzo; he rarely shared it with anyone.

“Bai Jiguan, right?” the woman commented with a giggle. “You have a good taste for tea.”

“Huh,” Hanzo commented. “You recognized it by smell alone?”

“My family was in tea shipping when I was little,” she explained, “I was basically raised drinking tea. A habit that stuck. You?”

“My mother,” he said, simply. Why was he even replying to that? It was a personal question.

“I see. And what teas do you enjoy?”

“Huh,” Hanzo was really not used to speak that much. “Oolong tea and… black tea.”

“Oh, so you gonna love this one!” the woman chirped as she opened her own box. Hanzo inhaled the beautiful scent in a deep breath.

“Golden Monkey.”

“That’s right. I’ve never met someone that could guess by scent and not taste, haha!”

Hanzo nodded. He didn’t know what to reply to that, so he didn’t.

“By the way, I haven’t introduced myself. I am Mei-Ling Zhou, nice to meet you, Hanzo,” she didn’t actually say ‘Hanzo’, in her mouth it sounded something like ‘Bhanshoo’. Still, Hanzo could pick up his name even if it had been butchered by a person that clearly couldn’t pronounce it.

“How do you know my name?” Hanzo’s eyebrows furrowed.

“You are Genji’s brother, right? I have never seen him under the mask but I have always imagined he would look something like you do. And McCree said that Genji’s brother always has this… very… troubled face. You fit the description.”

Hanzo doubted someone like McCree would ever say ‘troubled face’, let alone when referring to him. Still, as much as he was irked (for no reason in particular, really, he should have expected to be a juicy piece of gossips for Overwatch agents after his arrival), she tried to soften the blow. She didn’t call him ‘asshole’ face-to-face; Hanzo appreciated tact, even if affected, even if Hanzo himself wasn’t the most tactful person around.

“Mh,” he replied. He rummaged his mind in search for something to say only to be met with failure.  Without anything else to add, he just stuck to filling the boiler. Mei was measuring her serving of dried leaves: she dropped three teaspoons of Golden Monkey in a small porcelain teapot. It looked extremely frail and extremely precious. Hanzo did not have to wander off with imagination to guess it was a real Chinese handcraft. After all, her name was Zhou, was it not?

“It’s a family heirloom,” Mei stated, looking back at him. She didn’t mention the fact she had perceived Hanzo’s gaze or his interest in that tiny object, but still it was worth of praise to be that keen-minded. It took him by surprise. “I always have it with me, wherever I go. My father had it made for me when I was born.”

She showed him the Chinese characters painted on the side.

“Oh, so it’s ‘Mei’ as in ‘beautiful’. I thought it was ‘plum’.” 1

She widened her eyes at his reply, regardless of how stoic. “You can read Chinese?”

“Yes, I picked it up… on the road,” he didn’t mention his life in Taiwan. Too personal.

“How do you read this in Japanese?”

“Uh… ‘bi’. It means ‘beauty’ in Japanese.”

“How do you say ‘beautiful’?”

Hanzo puckered his lips as he recalled the word. It had been such a long time since he had spoken his native language. “Mh… ‘utsukushii’. But it’s the same kanji. It’s… complicated.”

Mei giggled. It was a surprisingly wholesome sound. Hanzo was confused. “I guessed so. Careful, I think the water is ready.”

Hanzo resumed from his deep thoughts of how weird her laugh had him feeling. He grabbed his own tea box, ready to just drop a spoonful in his cup, but Mei stopped him. “Huh-huh. If you are having tea with a Chinese person, I will have you follow the rules. Here.”

She gave him another teapot she recovered from one of the lower cabinets. It was much less fancier than her one, it was a faux terracotta-looking steel thing, but it would have served its purpose. “Do you know how to do it?”

Hanzo nodded. Yes, his mother had taught him many years ago. On top of that, he had seen many people do it. Three teaspoons inside the pot, then fill it with hot water, not boiling. Wait 5 seconds, pour, and throw the water away (the taste is too strong and, at the same time, not rich enough, it’s a bad batch). Refill the teapot, wait 20 seconds (or 40, if one likes a very strong flavour) and eventually pour the serving.

They completed the process in utter silence, without saying a word, almost in symbiosis, so coordinated were the two as they performed each action. It looked very mechanical, on Hanzo’s part, Mei on the other hand was more relaxed and her gestures were a display of an ancient art. Sure, that wasn’t the sophisticated tea ceremony Kung-fu masters invented millennia before, but it was still core to their countries’ traditions. A waste to let it go forgotten, as far as Hanzo was concerned.

“I love this smell,” Mei eventually broke the silence. “Isn’t it… gorgeous?”

Hanzo had to agree. It was one of the few things he enjoyed the most, a moment for relaxation he was used to consume alone, but Mei’s company was strangely… not-unnerving. It wasn’t as peaceful as the solitude of his home, solitary and companionless, but it was a little warmer than his despondency. Soon, Hanzo abandoned that road of thoughts: Mei was a little too perceptive and he didn’t want her to get inside his mind that far.

They sat at one of the table in the dining hall, facing one another. Hanzo wasn’t looking at her, he was quietly sipping his tea. She was squirming a little, as if she was trying really hard to find something to say. It was annoying, how some people couldn’t appreciate a moment of silence. It was rare for that room to be soundless, empty. The mere grazing of their mugs on the table and the soft drinking sounds were a balm for a… troubled mind. He used her word. So he did have a troubled face, after all, if those were the thoughts springing behind it.

Yet, despite of Hanzo’s unappreciative judgement, Mei did not speak a word for long. However, he could feel her gaze on him, studying him, curious as everyone of the freak that killed his own brother. That’s why he preferred staying alone. It wasn’t as annoying when he was the one to despise himself.

“Is it good?” Mei asked.

“What?”

“The tea. You’re glowering.”

“I always look like this,” was his reply. Quite impolite.

Mei gave him a little scorned smile. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have pried. It’s just that… it seems a little counterproductive to drink tea only to be sour, no?”

Hanzo wasn’t pleased by her statement. Maybe because she was right? “The way I drink tea is none of your business.”

The woman did not answer at his rude shutdown. Hanzo looked at her. She was so normal. Brown eyes, brown hair. She wore glasses. She had dainty little fingers wrapped around her cup, tapping on it so gently. Her hairpin was fashionable and elaborate, with a dangling little snowflake charm. The way she blew on steaming tea was cute.

She raised her eyes only to encounter his, staring. She smiled again. “You really like the teapot, don’t you?”

“Huh?” right next to her cup, there it laid her teapot. She probably misinterpreted the direction of Hanzo’s look, which was a blessing: too many things to explain if she had guessed the archer was indeed observing her. “It’s a fine piece of art.”

The smile on her lips grew a little larger. “Yeah, it’s very cute.”

Mei looked up, her brow creasing as she was trying to recall something… “kawaii?”

Hanzo huffed instinctively in a diverted manner. That was so random it amused him, even if it was really not that cultured humour; her pronunciation and the nonsense of the situation turned it comical. And that expression too, he admitted, was funny.

“Oh, so you can laugh,” Mei teased him. “I thought you were paralysed with that grimace. You should laugh more often. There is a glitter in your eyes when you do. You look… less troubled.”

“You can see people right through, can’t you?” Hanzo was sarcastic.

“I guess it’s what happens when you don’t stop at the surface and bother trying and understand the person you are talking to,” Mei was serious. “Do you ever try, Hanzo? To understand others?”

Oh, that sting. He was immediately thrown back at how he thought it would be hard for her to stay quiet, but she did, then even earlier, how he assumed she knew about him because she had gossiped about him. Maybe, just maybe, she remembered his name from when he had helped the other scientists.

All of a sudden, it became harder to look back at her. Coward.

“Mei!” a panting white coat came in running. “Jackson…!”

She sighed. “Got it. I am coming.”

She took one long sip, then she came to her feet. She looked back at him, biting her lower lip, as if she wanted to add something else. Hanzo prayed she didn’t, he couldn’t bear more humiliation, even if it was unintended as hers.

“See you around?” Mei murmured, giving him yet one soft grin.

“Ha,” Hanzo replied. And, for once, he really meant it.

[greensconnor]

How abt bsc?? Scott seems interesting 👀👀

RIVER thank u for this thank u for saying cowboy rights i owe u my life

big sky country mc: scott seacrest

how tall are they?

scott is 5′8″! he’s never really liked being his height until he met sawyer because he’s the perfect size for cuddling and always getting to be the little spoon #adapt #improvise #overcome

how do they tend to dress?

scott has a VERY edgy aesthetic but not like. emo edgy. like refined edgy. sophisticated edgy. cliff takes the piss out of him for wearing ripped jeans all the time but u know like. all his family members do that anyway, but he wears a lot of dark colours and owns a lot of leather/denim jackets with pins and patches and stuff! very alternative.

do they like how they look?

yes! scott has more self confidence than literally any person on the planet should have he’s such a little asshole but in like. a fun way. confident KING!

are they an only child or do they have any siblings?

scott’s the youngest of four boys and he’s quite a bit younger too. the older three were born with 1-2 years difference between them, but there’s five years between scott and the second youngest. it’s partially how he’s so confident because he spent his whole childhood scrapping to be included with his brothers! in order of birth it’s ben, matt, sean and then scott.

are they a morning person or night owl?

night owl, definitely. if you wake scott up before 10 am and you don’t have an insanely strong cup of coffee already wafting under his nose he’ll lose all sense of domesticity like the bacchae in thebes 

are they a cat person or a dog person?

dog person! scott never had a pet growing up, but one of his boyfriends had a dog and he adored it, but he doesn’t mind cats either, and he dotes on the barn cats on the oakleys farm like they’re his own children.

got any favourite foods?

scott’s a big fan of thai food, especially stir-fries with nut bases like cashew-nut stir fries or peanut-sauce stir fries. he also really likes curries because he’s used to spicy food from his childhood, but it’s nice to branch out and he likes the vibrancy of the colours. other than that he’ll eat pretty much anything with walnuts in it. he LOVES walnuts.

how about favourite drinks?

peach iced tea! he also LOVES coffee, especially extremely bitter black coffee since his family was INSISTENT growing up that cuban coffee is the best coffee and he kind of just... carried on that tradition. he started drinking it black to one-up his brother matt who previously had been the only member of the family to drink it without creamer, but still has sugar with it while scott has neither.

what are their favourite movies/tv shows?

scott LOVES the get down. in this house we love and stan the get down and will always resent stranger things for getting priority marketing but i can put that grudge aside to admit scott probably heavily fucks with stranger things, too. he really likes 70′s/80′s films especially and is a big fan of science fiction!

do they have any hidden talents?

according to big sky country he can tie a cherry stem in a knot with just his tongue which is... on brand for him. he also has really good hand/eye coordination and has an excellent shot when throwing stuff, plus he’s seriously scarily good at arcade claw machines.

do they believe in love at first sight?

no, his parents didn’t have a very happy marriage and got divorced shortly after they had scott, and he’s grown up kind of jaded about love. he’s not really much of a romantic, he just doesn’t like being alone. he likes to believe he’ll find love one day, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever fall in love at first sight, although others might.

who is their love interest?

sawyer which ik is unexpected for me but listen.... he’s cute. plus it’s fun because sawyer is sort of the last person that scott ever thought he’d end up with. he’s very stable and sweet and scott has had this cynical idea that he’d never really find someone that dependable, but he and sawyer just work and he really likes him! potentially even loves him! only big sky country 2 and my craving for domesticity will tell!

what are they afraid of?

scott’s not afraid of ANYTHING he does NOT fear god

what are their guilty pleasures?

he LOVES splurging on expensive ice cream... he knows he’s not worth it but the artisan flavours.... the fact that it doesn’t look bad when you’re eating out of the carton in front of the tv..... the fact that it doesn’t bend your spoon out of shape.... gourmet! that and he still secretly enjoys a taylor swift song or two from time to time but he’d never admit it

what was their dream job as a kid? is it still their dream?

he wanted to be a tree because he played a tree in a elementary school play and he thought it was a viable life option. after that he wanted to be a novelist but he kind of gave up on that dream, but now that he’s in the middle of nowhere doing nothing... maybe he’ll pick it up again!

have they ever broken a bone?

yes! he broke his leg when he was 10 jumping out of a tree, and he broke a toe showing off for his friends when he was 15.

have they ever been in trouble with the law?

yes lmao. he’s never been charged with anything but aside from what the mc brings up if you play never have i ever with the gang he also got caught spraying graffiti and trespassing (not at the same time). 

+ three other random facts about them!

he’s a libra (very off brand for me but i figured i should branch out to air signs beyond gemini), he has a minimalist wave tattoo on the back of his neck as a s/o to his surname, and he’s cousins with my bloodbound mc, pen! their mothers are sisters and they stay in touch since they’re good friends who were around the same age lmao

ask me about my choices mcs!

[watsonundercover]

Definition of Soulmates

Summary; after having the worst day of Ambrose’ life a surprise twist walks in and catches her heart in ways she’s never expected, for Dimitri, finding the right girl has always been a challenge because he knows he’s heard her before in the back of his mind,

Author’s Note; I’ve based the character Dimitri off of Tom Holland, so I guess this is a bit of a fanfic in that sense. I love the name Ambrose but you can slip your own name and description in if you want!

 Part One

The Market I work in has to be 1500 feet at most, its small but packs a punch given we have two coolers’ for supplies a back area for prep and a small office space taking up a third of the store. The last two thirds are where customers roam amongst the veggies and a small grocery aisle that I know like the back of my hand. Daily I look over it, making sure the shelves are as full as possible since we only order when we fully run out of something.

“What do you think Ambross?” My manager asks he surveys the cereals. “Think we should go for five and take the deal they’re offering?” He constantly gets my name wrong despite me making him sound it out. I also go by Brosie to most.

“I think we could. Tomorrow the rest will come off since it’s the beginning of the week.” I say and kick a milk carton as a make shift step stool in front of some of the honeys. I pull down a box from the top of the shelf to fill up some wildflower honey.

“Good point, which flavours go fastest?” he asks. Lee has noticed that I observe everything and in my two years here figured out the patterns of sales.

“I would say that Chocolate rice stuff, the peanut butter balls and….” My head snaps around as my ears pick up a crash at the end of the aisle. A wail is then coming out a small child, Mum is picking them up and looking at Lee and I with apologetic eyes. Then I see and smell it. The little one dropped a jar of pickled beets. Leaving my honey on the step stool I go and grab a bag from the front cash to get the debris into. Lee without a word has gone to the back to get the mop.

“I’m so sorry.” Mom says as I get on my knees to get up the beats and glass.

“It’s alright.” I say with a smile. “Little ones are usually way too curious with what’s on the bottom shelves, I keep telling my boss we should have unbreakable things there.” I stand with most of the glass in the bag, Lee appears with the mop to get up the juice, making it easier for me to see the last of the broken glass. I step to the side where the Mom is. The little boy now at eye level with me. “You wanted to know what those were huh?” I ask with a lighter tone to him. He nods and curls into her. I’m guessing he’s not even three.

“Brosie there’s some glass there.” Lee says and I bend to snatch it up. “Oh shoot….”

“Ah!” I gasp and yank my hand back as a piece of glass that Lee nor I didn’t see jabs into my hand.  It’s dug in deep enough a steady flow of blood to come out.

“Back now.” Lee orders and I pass him the bag to go into the back to get a wad of paper towel to get the bleeding to stop. There my co worker and friend Ana comes in for the start of her shift. She takes in the sight of me and yanks out on of her head phones.

“You okay?” She asks.

“Cut my hand.” I say. “Broken jar. Was cleaning it but…” She cuts me off by coming and taking my hand to look over it.  She grabs another wad of paper towel to wet and dab at my hand. She then grabs the first aid kit from the end of the big back shelf.

“It’s not too deep, lets just clean it….”

“Holy shit.” I breathe and nearly yank back my hand as she presses an antiseptic cloth to it.

“Wuss.” She hisses.

“How about I pour alcohol on your paper cuts? Or lemon juice?” I bite back.  That makes her laugh. She’s also one of my few friends that I am constantly bantering with. She’s an artist like me and insists on having handmade sketchbooks where the pages aren’t even and cuts her fingers on them constantly. Right now I spy band aids on two of her fingers.

“This needs more than a band aid.” She states and grabs some butterfly strips to pull my skin together with.  I wince as Lee comes back.

“Are you okay?” He asks and put the mop to the side to come and see. “Oh shoot, does it hurt?” He sees Ana’s work before she wraps gauze around my hand as an extra precaution.

“A little.” I admit. “I have some Tylenol in my bag if it does start to hurt.”

“Alright. Um maybe take a breather, then finish what you had started in the aisle, you pulled down something I think.”

“Honey.” I say. “We’re almost out of it so I brought it down to top up the shelf.” That prompts Ana to go and drop her bag in the small back aisle next to the bathroom that also leads to the back door. Ana appears again with my water bottle to throw at me. Fumbling I manage to catch it, banging it on my cut a little I try to not flinch but I glug back about half of it to get some fluids in me after losing some blood.  I take a few deep breaths as Lee gets the mop back away in the bathroom.

I drink more water. Feeling back to normal I go back to the aisle and finish up the honey I pulled out. I then see that another brand needs to be stocked up, I go out to find the back stock under the table with apples and come back. As I slide it on I get my skinny arms back there to even everything out and pull some forward.

Crabcakes! I pull my hand out as a sharp sting shoots up my arm and tears well in my eyes. I see it shaking at a large lumps forms where a wasp has stung me.  I look at the back of the shelf and see a small nest formed by some honeycomb at the back. The little turkeys seem to have taken it hostage because of a poor packaging design.  I shake out my hand but the pain is not going away. I beeline to the back to some Tylenol. Lee sees the few tears that escape.

“Is your hand hurting?” He asks. I show off the impressive lump that is swelling fast. His eyes grow huge. ���What happened?!” he jumps up and off the stool to inspect it.

“Freaking wasp.” I gasp trying to not sob. “There’s a new nest by the honeycombs.”

“Great.” Lee huffs and has me sit. “I’ll see if Ana has any antihistamines, if not I’ll go get you some.” Lee disappears around the corner to find her. Only a minute later I see her dash into the cooler them comes back out holding a bag of ice she must have taken off of some of the veggies.

“You can’t seem to win today.” She says and passes me the make shift ice pack to press onto my hand.

“Yeah not really.” I breathe and try to take a deep breath to stay calm.

“How long have you been working now” She asks.

“About two hours and a bit.” I say. Lee shows back up holding the antihistamines for me. I take one, Ana grabs my water bottle so I can get it down.

“Maybe she could have a break just to recover Lee?” Ana suggests and looks at him.

“Good idea.” He says. With that I grab my lunch bag and step out into the back porch to sit and watch the woods. I eat some yogurt and my sandwich, I sip at water and decide that it’s too chilly for it. A hot chocolate from the coffee shop would be nice. I have a half hour break so I get up retrieve my wallet then walk along the back gravel to come out at the end of this bit of the mini mall. Out on the side walk I avoid other people’s eyes so no one can tell I’ve been crying. Past the main grocery store that is our rival I continue on to the third strip of building where a coffee shop is on the end. Inside I order my hot chocolate, pay and wait over at the side.

“Ambrose?” I hear and glance around for who said it. Being at the market means a lot of people recognize me and a lot of my family is in the area too. But this voice is one I recognize but can’t place. My heart freezes when I see its source.

Ben.

A young man with enough muscle to make any girl swoon and parted brown hair. My stomach clenches as his greenish eyes meet mine.

“Medium hot chocolate to go.” The barista calls out and I grab it and move to get out.

“Brosie.” I hear Ben call as he comes after me. “Brosie come on, don’t act like this.” He grabs my wounded hand as he catches up to me and I nearly screech. I yank back and cradle it against myself and fight some tears. “If anyone really should be like this it should be me.” Ben huffs. “You are the one who broke off the friendship.” I grind my teeth and look down at my hand. Crap, he’s torn the cut open enough to bleed. He then sees the crimson on the white gauze. “Oh shit.” He breathes and tries to take it to see.

“Leave me alone Ben.” I say loud enough for heads to turn.

“You’re bleeding let me help, you know I’m training to be….”

“A paramedic, yes I know. I knew everything about you while you barely knew me Ben. Plus why do you care now? You treated me like crap the last few months of our friendship.” I bite and turn to stalk away. Within a second I’m suddenly staring at Ben’s tiny but round ass. He’s grabbed me in fireman’s hold, something he’s done before. “Let me go!” I shout and try to struggle but his arms squeeze my middle tightly to keep me in control. With the shock of him picking me up I’ve dropped my hot chocolate. “Ben come on! Let me go!”

He sets me down in the back of his truck and grabs a medical kit he always keeps on hand. I however dive to the side as he tries to grab at my hand again.

“Cut it out!” I bark and dodge to the back of the wagon.

“Ambrose I’m trying to help you.” He argues. “Something you say I never did.”

“Ben if you want to help me let me go and leave me alone.” I bite back and meet his eye for him to read words I uttered to him over six months ago, I fucking hate you, you treat me like shit. I then utter; “You’re only making a scene with me now because you want attention, you want to be the hero for my hand, you want me to dote on you for it. Guess what, that’s never going to happen again.” That makes him launch at me. My psychology evaluation of him has always been something I’ve kept to myself. Now it’s just pissed him off.

“Hey!” Someone shouts and he’s being pulled off of me. “What the hell?!” Ben is being thrown out of the back and I see two fit looking guys. One with blonde hair and blue eyes is helping me up, the other has a hood up covering his face. “You alright sweetie?” The blonde asks with an accent that is music to my ears.

“Get her out Henry.” Someone is saying as Ben stands to see two other people there, a larger young man and a beautiful girl. However I have my theories about beauty, that if you say beauty as a blanket term you get self-conscious, if you identify what kind of beauty it is, you can feel a little better. For her, with dark frizzy hair and sharp dark eyes that seem to stare into souls far too easily, it’s an exotic kind of beauty. Something you don’t see very often. The one in the hoodie is then helping me down to the blonde who’s jumped out. As his hands guide me down I feel something seize in my chest. Something that I can only call parapsychological, the sense of something only I can feel through my soul.

“Are you alright?’ The blonde is asking. “Did he touch you…?” I take off, the question prompting too many wrong things that happened during Ben and I’s friendship. I get back to work with tears burning in my eyes. I just go to the back porch to bury my face in my hands. Ana appears at my side.

“I heard someone saying they saw you and Ben arguing…” She says and wraps her arms around me tightly. The only good thing about the end of that friendship is that I found out who my real friends are. Including Ana. She gets me to sit down on the top step then holds out something that comforts us both, the salted milk chocolate bar that we sell.

“Thanks.” I whisper hoarsely and break off a chunk. I look at my fit watch to see that my break is almost up.  I let the chocolate melt on my tongue and have the flavours swirl around my mouth to savour it. Being mindful of how I’ve covered more receptors there to send the happy message of dopamine to be released in my brain. Chocolate is an easily addictive crack.  She still holds it out me. I break off another piece.

“Do you want to go home?” She asks. I feel calm again, I shake my head. If I keep my water bottle close or make a cup of tea I should be okay. “Okay, let’s get you patched up again, what happened now?” She takes my hand to see how bloody the gauze is.

“Ben being a dramatic ass.” I say. That gets her up to get the first aid kit and yes, more antiseptic to clean it up. I’d take Ana helping me out over Ben any day medical wise.

“What an ass.” She mutters redoing the gauze wrap. “Can’t even get out of his own head to notice you’re hurt.”

“Thanks Ana.” I murmur and begin plotting on making her a batch of cookies for helping. If I get a mix after work I can do it up tonight, I’d have to get some extra chocolate chips since I put the last of some in brownies the other week.

“Let’s get you back inside or Lee will have my head.” She says. I dawn my apron and carefully tie it around my waist. I take deep breaths and remind myself that if I remain calm, everything else will. What you put out has a way of coming back at you. The incident with Ben now is only a reflection of how I had to be when I told him we were no longer friends. Mean and ruthless. Unlike my normal self that usually understands everything and is kind. You had to be kind for yourself too I remind myself. Lee takes one look at me and gives me a few things to stock. I’m done in a few minutes.

“Err, do you want to do some chips?” He asks, however I see what he’s really asking if I feel okay enough to be climbing up and onto the edge of the veggie rack to get the boxes stored up there. I nod, feeling right down into my core, something that I know is strong and what I’ll use to get up there. Lee leaves it at that. First I check out what we need, we’re scarce with a bunch. I get a milk crate as my middle ground and wait patiently for people to be out of the way before climbing up.

“Careful monkey.” My co-worker World says deeply as he watches me. He’s East Indian and after a few sassy remarks from me when I finally warmed up to him, claimed I must have been a sister from another life.

“I always am.” I say and swing down gracefully with a box. World’s eyes watch my movements as I go back up for another then check out what else I need, a few more flavours then one of the another brand. I go up as world goes to refill his cart with more apples to stock, making that short aisle now clear. I glance around, no one is here, I could make a stack to make it easier. I get a box and sink down in a squat still balanced on the edge to only stretch back up and check around again. I’m startled with the appearance with the sight of the beautiful girl from the parking lot staring at me.  I try to think nothing of it and turn back to get a box and find it stuck behind a bar in the top of the rack. I know not to do this but I try it anyway, I just yank.

I yank too hard.  The sudden force sends my balance off and I scramble to grab hold of the top of the rack but I don’t act fast enough and start falling back.

“Arms!” I hear someone shout and feel my fall cut off shorter than I expected it. I’ve been caught by someone. Letting out a shaky breath I look up into auburn eyes that are wide as they stare back at me. I then recognize the hoodie he’s wearing. My arms tingle as he so easily holds me.

“Ambrose!” Ana calls as she comes over, World in tow. He takes that as a sign to get me down on my feet. He doesn’t seem to mind as I lean on his shoulder to steady myself.  Ana is then grabbing me, looking over my shaken state. “Are you okay?” As she asks it the shock hits and I find that I can’t speak.

“Let’s get you in the back.” Ana says and leads me away from him. I can’t help but glance at him, see his handsome face, sharp square jawline and those eyes that are not coming off me. Lee is all over me, trying to get me out of the haze, snapping, waving at me, and trying to get me to speak. World breaks it, get grabs his warm coffee mug and sets it in my hand. Temperature difference. An ice bucket would have worked too.

“Bross you okay?” Lee asks.

“She doesn’t need to answer.” Ana declares. “She’s had a shit day and is going home.” She grabs her car keys. She then passes me my backpack. I rub at my face, the day has been insane, and I’ve been pushing too much to get through it. For some reason the universe wants me to be down, or not here.

“I’ll go home but I can walk Ana.” I squeak. She raises an eyebrow at me.

“Not with the state you’re in, plus if Ben happens to cross your path again I don’t want him to get the better of you.” She’s being protective and kind, something Ben never was.

“Go, it shouldn’t take Ana too long right?” Lee asks.

“Ten minutes at most.” I say. With that Ana gets me up to guide me out. We pass by the group that got Ben away from me, the guy in the hoodie doesn’t take his eyes off me, the girl gives me a curious look, the other boys start nudging the hoodie. That’s when he looks away and down. Ana pulls me away and out of sight me to form one thought, somehow, magically, my soul knows his.

[kpoptextsandscenarios]

Witch’s Brew

Part Two

He knows, just like I do. We can pick each other out of a crowd, from the magic running through our veins. It's like a haze, an aura almost, and his is golden. He takes the lead in his group of friends, never breaking eye contact with me. He looks cautious and careful, and I wonder if he's ever met another witch like this before. "Hello." "Hello," I smile as I would to any other customer, "what can I get you?" His eyes finally leave me as they flick up to the menu above my head. His lips curl as they take in my doodles decorating the edges. Crescent moons, stars, cats, eyes and palms. "What would you recommend?" I shrug, "You can't go wrong with tea. How about peppermint?" "Perfect, and um...hold the magic." It could be misconstrued as an innocent comment, harmless flirting for anyone listening, but there's that twinkle in his eye, a sly glance to let me know he knows. "Consider it done." "He's cute. What's his name?" Chunja mumbles by me when I turn to prepare his tea. "Down kitty." She giggles, squeezing my shoulder before she turns her attention to his friends who I've already completely forgotten. At his request I hold back on stirring anything other than his teabag in his cup, but it's difficult. Performing magic at work has become such a natural instinct, I have to concentrate really hard. But I hand it over, clean and magic free, meeting his eye. "Thank you." There's something else his eye now, a confident sparkle, and his grin stretches across his face. I wonder what his friends have said to him while my back was turned. He hovers waiting for Chunja to serve his friends, taking tentative sips. "My friend's think I should ask for your number." He muses. "Why?" I ask, turning my back to him to help Chunja. "I-I'm not sure." His stammer makes me turn back to him. "You can sit, I'll bring them over." "Ooh cold shoulder." Chunja murmurs in my ear, "what did he say?" "I'm not giving him the cold shoulder, I just don't want him hanging around the counter all day." "Alright." She mumbles, smoothing out her hair from the steam. I glance at the door, the witch and his friends the last of our customers for now. "Can you hold the fort if I head into the back?" "Knock yourself out." The kitchen is small and cramped and part storage room, but it's mine, and I've charged it with my magic so it's safe. In the tiny window at the top of the room I've hung a witch ball, the rainbow glass shining brightly in the sun, ready to catch evil spirits who try to enter. The counters are washed daily first with antibacterial, and then with my own mix of basil, clove and bay leaf. The door is sealed with an enchantment, and there are crystals hanging from every available surface. Chunja rose her brows when she first saw it but she had already tried my cakes so didn't mention my questionable work space. The bread I pushed into the oven earlier smells good and sweet and I peer into the oven to check on his progress. Rising slowly and still pale. So I set to my task, prepping ingredients for my daily bakes. Today, with magic strongly in the air, another witch sitting only in the next room, I decide to up my game, cracking out the fresh mint I bought yesterday. I chop the leaves, letting the rhythmic sound of the knife on the board ground me, my mind sorting through the flavours I can pair with it. I immediately think of chocolate, sweet, earthy, indulgent. It's correspondence to friendship and love may help strengthen a bond between the new witch and I. If I want a bond with him. But still I pull out a jar of grated chocolate, and a vanilla pod for health and prosperity. I lose myself in the process, feeling like I'm doing more magic than if I was standing over a steaming cauldron, a cat weaving through my legs. I recharge every now and then, pulling the strands of power from the talisman in my ear, nudging the ingredients, encouraging their natural energies with my own. Somewhere along the way I decide on eclairs without really realising, piping the mint chocolate cream inside of them once they're crisp and golden. "Smells good in there!" Chunja calls in, wiping her hands on her apron. She stands in the doorway peering in, her nose twitching. "You're hot friend is still here. His friends left." "Thought he might be." I mumble to myself, plating up the eclairs, decorating them with fresh mint and some icing sugar. And she's right- he's still there, sat alone at a table, pouring over a notebook. I drop another tea on his table, this one liquorice and cinnamon. "How long have you been practicing?" He looks up from his notepad. "Practicing?" "The craft?" I'm still careful with my words, "Oh," he blushes slightly, a smirk on his face. "Not long, my parents aren't...you know." I nod, "Yeah I do. My brother helped me learn." His eyebrows rise. "Your brother's a... like us?" "Yeah." I slide into the seat opposite him. "I've never met another one before." "Really? How did you learn?" He shrugs, "I kind of taught myself. I do a lot of...musical magic." "What like?" "Well," he looks like he's embarrassed to tell me, avoiding my eye, "I'm an idol, so..." My eyes flick to his notebook, what I had first thought was a grimoire or a book of shadows, but now it seems is full of lyrics and unfinished songs. "An idol?" He nods, stooping in his seat like he is scared someone will see. "Yeah. So sometimes when we're on stage and doing choreography I give myself a little...lift." "Like your energy?" His eyes shift from mine. "No, like physically. If there are jumps and stuff I ...fly a little." I smother my laugh with the heel of my hand. My brother would have never let me get away with flying in public, let alone on stage with crowds and cameras. "Nothing serious, it's just sometimes fun to play with gravity." "What else do you do?" He looks shy, taking his first sip of the tea. "Have you done something to this?" "No, don't change the subject." "Alright, sometimes I give the boys a little creativity boost, when they're struggling with lyrics or producing." "What do you use?" "What do you mean? I use my magic." "Do you not use any tools? Ingredients, things with energies already in them?" He pauses, taking another sip. "No. Is that what you do?" "That's what this is." I gesture to the coffee shop. "I put magic into my bakes and drinks. But it only works because I use stuff that already has those properties in them." I can see him struggling, so I jump up and dive behind the counter picking up and orange and mint cupcake with lavender icing. "Here, creativity in a cupcake." I push it across the him. "Orange, mint and lavender. All known for their creative energies, so they give me a base to work with, they already outline the direction the magic will run. All I have to do is harness that energy when I make it, and bam. Creativity cupcake. It doesn't drain my energy, doesn't use up too much magic, and it's more powerful than what I could do alone." He picks it up and looks it over, turning it around in his hand. "It's a cupcake." "Yeah, with magic in it." He puts it back down, his eyes on it, and picks up his tea, cradling his hands around the hot cup. "I didn't know I was...you know..." "You're allowed to say witch." He giggles, covering his mouth. "I just thought everybody could make their toothbrush dance." It's my turn to laugh as I picture it, him as a small child, watching his toothbrush march across the edge of the sink with a grin on his face. "Did you ever get caught?" He nods, somber again. "Yeah, my mum kept walking in on me doing stuff." He rubs his neck, "She thought there was something wrong with me for a while, but eventually she accepted it. She's actually really supportive." "Being in the spotlight must be hard?" I can't imagine it, not practicing every day, hiding from everyone. I'd done that in the past, running, hiding, bottling up all the power in me. "Yeah I suppose, but I channel my magic into my work. So I use it all the time." I nod, wondering if I've ever unknowingly heard him on the radio, whether his voice has ever played in here. "And your bandmates. Do they know?" I assume that's who he came in with. "No, they suspect there's something a little...odd about me. But everyone is a little odd." I nod in agreement. He's not wrong. "Here," I out the cupcake back and grab an eclair, "try this."

Part one

Masterlist

[snowtheme-moontheme]

C is for Cocktails...and taking up running because you drink too many cocktails

It’s cocktails cum Copacabana. One of my favourite Lindy Bop dresses, I love the shape and the general lairy-ness of it. No idea where my earrings were from, I feel like they’ve been knocking around in my jewellery box since birth. Sunglasses a 50p eBay success story. This whole paragraph makes me sound zero style. So, cocktails.

My favourite is an Espresso Rumtini:

1 part rum (whatever your taste is; I like golden rum, but spiced rum is nice too if you are a pirate)

1 part coffee liqueur

Some coconut syrup

Shot of espresso

Please go and try this! It’s very nice! Coconut is my favourite scent and flavour. I ordered a bag of Whey Protein the other day for dem gainz (it was a free gift) and got coconut flavour; am unashamedly mixing a scoop with my black coffee in the morning before a workout. Essentially, achieving the taste of my favourite cocktail at 7AM. Is this a life hack?

I have earnestly tried to be healthy during this period because I know that I drink too much and eat too many pringles anyway let alone when I’m trapped in a house with them. I don’t know why it has taken the lockdown to strike this chord - I suppose the mind focussed internally when you are your main company. I downloaded the BBC’s Couch to 5k app feeling oddly embarrassed about it all (although the fact that Sarah Millican is one of the voice coaches was a casting stroke of genius) and tried to complete each week in succession to get it over with as soon as possible.

Small segue to explain just how disenchanted I am with this kind of stuff: one time, in year 3, I received an A grade for effort in P.E/Games but an F grade for performance. Wasn’t sure how to progress from there and gave up.

Anyway, I’ve done it over the last couple of months to get out of the house and now the thought of going for a little jog down the canal doesn’t make me want to vomit and cry. I ran 6K the other day and have irritatingly told everyone about this. I own more than one sports bra now. I’m by no means a fanatic, or ‘good at running’, but it’s a hobby which I’ve picked up and would like to keep doing after lockdown ends. It’s one of the reasons I bought the Morning Journal I mentioned in the first post; I actually do feel physically stronger and healthier.

This lead-up, although it sounds like I have been enlightened into my new favourite exercise, is actually a prelude to a few vital questions I have for People Who Run – I need answers, people:

·        Headbands: I physically cannot go running without one. I have an intense phobia of sweat in my eyeballs. I do not want rivulets of sweat cascading into my mouth. Why do you want these things, runners who do not wear headbands (which seems to be everyone apart from me?). Am I excessively water-based? What’s wrong with the 80s? I need to know.

·        Going from walking to running: this just always looks stupid unless you’re sprinting a 100m, no? Just always looks like you realised the shop is about to close and you are still quite a long way from it?

·        Route: utterly shit if going in circles around a park. Magical if you are going down random public footpaths which you don’t know where they end up. There are too limited a supply of these footpaths. This is a statement rather than a question, actually.

·        Knees: How do I save them?

Right, I am actually going to pop out now. It’s a trip with 10 tonne of glass to the bottle bank but I’m also going to run around a bit at the end to distract people from the enormous amount of wine bottles in my sack. I guess carrying them all is the strength training to accompany the cardio, so it’s all health.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Canadian Girl

Chapter Four

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC  |  Word Count: 2550 Warnings: Fluff, stereotyping of Canadians (It's ok, I am one)

“I’d kill for a chocolate bar,” Kennedy sighed, leaning her head against the wall.

“Then you’d be in serious trouble, doll face.”

Jerking away from the wall, she spun around and groaned, grabbing for her temple. “Do you have to keep doing that?”

Frowning, Steve took her by the shoulders. “Doc? You okay?”

It had been a week since her Thanksgiving, and he’d taken to wandering down to her floor every day. Friday was casually keeping him informed of her location. The AI was also doing him a favour by keeping his late night activity and daytime disappearances from the others.

He’d know Kennedy for a few weeks now and was smitten. Maybe a bit more than smitten, truth be told. She was so… adorable. The last thing he needed was his friends messing things up. If she could get to know him without his background getting in the way, hopefully, when she did figure it out, it wouldn’t be such a big deal.

“A headache. I’ll be fine.” She blinked up at him. “Spent too long bent over my microscope.”

He could see the pain behind her eyes in the way they squinted slightly, and the furrow between her brows.

The floor was still and silent, dark except for the glow from her lab. He stood with her in the shadows, all alone. He’d gotten good at seeing her with no one to witness the exchange, just the way he liked it. Shifting his hands to the back of her neck, Steve slowly worked his fingers up her nape. The muscles were tight and knotted, and he gently rubbed the strained cords. “Damn, Doc. No wonder you have a headache.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, pleasure apparent in the soft moan which passed her pink lips. “Ooh…”

The quiet little sound nearly made him growl.

She was so damn precious. So pretty. So sweet.

He wanted to kiss her pouty lower lip.

Restraining himself, Steve closed his palm at the base of her skull and squeezed. “You should go home, Doc. Get some sleep.”

“Later. I’ve got more work.”

“It will keep, doll. Go home,” he urged her.

She shook her head. “I’m on the verge of something here. I can’t just walk away. What I needed was a coffee crisp and a handful of Advil. I would have been fine.”

“Well, I hope you don’t take a handful, Doc, I think two would probably do, but… what’s a coffee crisp?” He moved his hands from her neck to her temples.

Her eyes fluttered back open. He bit back a groan, wondering if this was the look which would come to her face if he were to kiss her.

“Coffee flavoured chocolate bar. I had one stashed in the kitchen. Some dirty rat ate it,” she said, pouting slightly.

“Is this another Canadian thing?” Steve chuckled, rubbing his thumbs over her temples.

“Mmm,” she hummed appreciatively. “Jesse has a thing about sending me care packages. Coffee crisps, pin cherry jam, and all dressed potato chips.”

“What’s an all dressed potato chip?”

“It’s like an everything bagel. Only all potato chip flavours.” Her hand landed lightly on his hip.

Steve felt it all the way to the bones. “And pin cherry jam?”

“Grandmother’s recipe. Jesse’s wife makes jam. It’s delicious.”

“And Jesse is?” He threaded his fingers into her hair causing her to whimpered softly.

Her other hand landed on his ribs, and he leaned closer, gently working his fingers over her scalp.

“Middle brother.”

“I see.” Stroking his fingers through her hair, he smoothed it out, brushing his fingers over her cheek. “Don’t stay too long, Doc. You’ve got to sleep sometime.”

Sighing, Kennedy nodded as he stepped back. “I will.”

He didn’t want to leave, but figured the sooner she got back to it, the sooner she’d go home. It wasn’t like he could order her to go. Well, he could, but then he’d have to explain on whose authority. He wasn’t ready for that yet. “See you around, Doc.”

“Yeah. Bye,” she said, before disappearing back into her lab.

When he walked away, he noted, it appeared the pain was at least gone from behind her eyes.

***

Another late night, after everyone else on her floor had left, Kennedy was, again, standing in the kitchen. It was fully stocked with the favourite brain foods of all the scientists which worked there.

They each had their own projects, some overlapping, some with teams, some working on individual problems like she was, but each of them was willing to assist or be a sounding board when needed. This, at times, created long days and nights where they hardly left the lab. Hence the reason behind the kitchen. They needed to eat but often forgot.

Kennedy, however, liked food too much to ever forget to eat unless she was neck deep in a discovery like tonight. She’d had a breakthrough. One which had looked promising weeks ago had finally come to fruition. Coming up for air long enough to discover she was starving, she’d made her way to her present location, in the kitchen pulling fries from the oven.

The others all gave her a hard time over her snack choice. They didn’t get it. They weren’t Canadian. This was like gold to her people.

The fries went in a wide bowl, followed by the cheese curd she pulled from the fridge. Just as she was turning to go to the stove, she caught movement in the doorway and swung around, heart pounding in her throat.

“Oh! For Pete's sake! Do I need to get you a dang bell?”

“Sorry, Doc. What you still doing here?” The big blond grinned at her from the doorway.

“Working,” she huffed, heading for the pot on the stove.

“How are fries, cheese and,” he sniffed, “Is that gravy? Work?”

Standing beside the bowl, she glared at him. “Do not disparage my snack. This is edible gold to my people. You will draw the wrath of the poutine gods down on your head!” She proceeded to upend the pot of gravy over the top of the bowl.

It appeared to make him queasy if his face was anything to go by.

“Doll, I ain’t never met no poo teen gods,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy dumped water in the pot, leaving it to soak in the sink. Returning to the table, she plopped herself down and shoved out another chair with her foot.

“All you American’s are so sadly uneducated when it comes to the glory that is poutine. Plant your butt, big man.” He did so, and she held out a fork. Pulling it back right before he could grab it she said, “Now, here’s the thing. You can eat this like a civilized human being, with a fork, or, you can join the ranks of many a Canadian who have burned their fingers for our country’s unofficial national dish.”

He bypassed the fork to snag a fry and lifted it up, dripping with gravy and strings of cheese. “You seriously eat this?”

“Says the man from the country that eats grits.” Even the word made her shudder in distaste.

“Touché,” he muttered, eyeing the concoction.

Reaching for her own fry, Kennedy popped it in her mouth without hesitation and moaned. “Not as good as New York Fries back home, as ironic as that sounds, but still heaven.”

He continued to only stare at the fry between his fingers.

“I swear if you eat that and call it disgusting you and I can’t be friends anymore.”

“Are we?” he asked. “Friends, I mean.”

She blinked, surprised by the question. “Well, yeah. I mean, considering I don’t know your name, or what you do here. You scare the Dickens out of me on a regular basis, and now you’re trying to decide whether I’m quirky or just plain gross for my food choices, I’d like to think we’re friends. I may know nothing about you besides your taste in books and music, and you have an insane desire to run places, but you keep turning up like a bad penny. I enjoy your company.” She shrugged, eating another fry.

His eyes softened in a way that made her want to blush. There was no possible way he was interested in her. He simply liked her company.

She couldn’t read more into it than that.

He took a deep breath, brought the fry to his mouth, and popped it between his lips.

Kennedy snickered when his eyes widened in surprise. “And you doubted me.”

“Only for a second, doll,” he chuckled, eyeing her bowl. When she shoved it closer, he dug in. “And I was born Steven, though most people call me Steve.”

“Kennedy. Though, considering you keep calling me Doc, I’m going to assume you already knew that.” She eyed him through narrow lids.

He gave a sheepish shrug. “I may have asked a few questions. You nearly ran me down six times in three weeks before I followed you to your lab that day. I was intrigued.”

Her hand paused midway to her mouth. “Six! Well… that’s a new record. Shoot! Now I’m going to owe Danny money.” Sighing heavily, Kennedy stuffed another fry in her mouth and pouted.

“Brother?”

“Cousin.”

“Big family,” Steve said. Sadness seemed to coat him like a shadow.

Kennedy just had to reach out, touch his hand, offer what comfort she could. “Some of us come from big families. Others acquire them over time.”

He looked up, and his blue eyes were so vivid, she had her breath catch.

“You’re right.” He turned his hand to take hold of her fingers, but she drew them back swiftly.

“So, Steven, what fantastic role are you playing in the ever-expanding Stark Empire?” she asked, picking a piece of cheese up between her nails and popping it in her mouth.

“Not a fan of Tony?” he asked.

“Not a fan of what he used to do. The weapons and all. Not a fan of what happened with Ultron. And I sure wasn’t a fan when he turned on Captain Rogers and his friends.” Getting up, she went to the fridge to grab a can of coke and held up a second.

He nodded, looking slightly odd, causing her to frown when she sat back down.

“You okay?” she asked, sipping on her drink.

“Yeah,” Steve cleared his voice. “Yeah, go on.”

“He’s done some stuff I really don’t agree with, but he’s done a lot of good, too. He’s creating clean energy and working on disarmament. The opportunity I have to try and decipher the serum, use what I’ve learned from it to help other people, is really important. There are parts of it which could do so much good. I mean, I don’t want to create more soldiers, nor allow the formula to fall into the hands of others who would. And I was pissed when I found out Stark brought me in under false pretenses, but I also believe if anyone will protect the secret, keep it from falling into Hydra’s hands again, it would be Mr. Stark.”

Nodding slowly, Steve appeared impressed.

Kennedy couldn’t help but blush a little, embarrassed by how she’d gone on. She was very passionate about her work.

“And once you finish? What then?”

“There’s always more research to be done. More things to discover,” Kennedy said, turning her face away. “And, someday, I’d like to have a family. Kids and a dog and a husband who thinks the world of me.” She shook her head at her foolishness. “Maybe.”

“Why maybe?” he asked softly.

“You don’t meet many people when you spend your life looking through a microscope.” She sighed. Collecting the now empty dish to take to the sink, she stood to her feet.

His chair scraped back, and she looked up at him.

“Steven?”

“You don’t read the papers, do you, doll?”

She shook her head.

“T.V?”

“I don’t have one,” Kennedy admitted, confused about why he was asking.

“What’s your opinion on the Avengers?”

“I… don’t really have one. They do good things for the world, and we need them, but, I wasn’t too keen on working here because this building has a very large target on it. I’m not a fan of guns, and it gets blown up… kind of often.” Though it hadn’t happened in recent years. “It’s definitely gotten me cool points with my nephews. Aunt Kenny who works with the Avengers. I haven’t the heart to tell them I’ve never even met one.”

“Would you want to?” Lifting his hand, he gently tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I think…” Her mouth went dry. The last time he’d touched her, her head hurt so much it had distracted her from the feeling until much later. The discovery that he’d fixed her headache with his gentle hands had been startling. This time was much more blatant. There was a different tone to it which she couldn’t possibly be reading right. “I would be very intimidated,” she whispered. “They’re them, and I’m… just me.”

Fingers wrapping at her nape, Steve stroked his thumb on the skin of her jaw. “I like just you, Kennedy, just fine.” He smiled when she gaped at him.

“Steven?”

“My mother used to call me Steven,” he said. Leaning down, he placed his lips lightly on hers.

She froze, stunned, but soft lips slanted and Kennedy gave a small whimper of pleasure. Her eyelids fluttered closed. This couldn’t be happening. She’d only just learned his name, and now he was kissing her? But the kiss was sweet, like something out of an old movie.

He didn’t grope her or try to take it past this simple brush of lips. Just kissed her gently, lips moving with hers. His hand softly cupping her face. It sent delicious shivers of desire through her body.

Then, his phone went off, and he pulled slowly away.

Heart pounding in her throat, Kennedy stared up at desire darkened blue eyes. “Steven?”

“In case I wasn’t clear, I’d like to be more than just your friend, Kennedy,” he said, stroking his fingers along her cheek. Stepping back, he dug for his phone. Frowning at it, he sighed. “Duty calls.”

She nodded, unable to find her voice. She needed to get back to work as well. Turning away, she went to clean up her dishes. All the thoughts in her head fled when his hands landed on her hips, and his lips bussed her cheek.

“You alright there, doll face?”

Clearing her throat, Kennedy nodded. “Yes. Sorry. Just… surprised.”

“Why?” he asked. His phone went off again, and he glared at it. “I really got to go, but I’ll be back when I can. We’ll talk.”

“Yeah, sure. No worries.” She threw a half a smile over her shoulder.

“I could be gone a while so don’t think I kissed you and didn’t mean anything by it, okay?”

“Of course. Go. I’ll see you later.”

He frowned, but when his phone pinged a third time he nodded. “Alright, Kennedy.”

With that, he jogged from the room, and she gripped the sink tightly to stay upright.

What in the heck just happened? 

Next Chapter

[theshatteredrose]

Perhaps you could write a oneshot for one of your favorite platonic relationships from either CtS or ALE?

AN: I would have had this up a couple of days ago but the internet has been down due to maintenance the last few days. Yeah, no warning. Just a ‘lol surprise fuckers!’ kind of thing. Uuughh…

Anyway, hope you enjoy reading!

Simply Platonic

“Good morning, Nitish.”

Quietly closing the door to his room behind him, Nitish smiled as Mahalah made his way over to him, seemingly having just visited Roxbury’s room at the clinic. “Good morning,” he returned as he idly straightened his robes.

Mahalah smiled at him before he tilted his head to the side slightly to indicate toward his room. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, a relatively peaceful night last night,” Nitish answered honestly, his smile taking on a sense of relief. “Achyuta only had one coughing fit.”

“Ah, so an improvement then,” Mahalah said with genuine relief before an expression of soft concern appeared on his face. “You still look tired, though. I could wrangle one of the others to help with breakfast while you get some rest.”

But Nitish shook his head as he turned toward the stairs. “I’m all right. Making breakfast will be therapeutic for me.”

Mahalah granted him an understanding smile as he moved to join Nitish’s side, the two of them moving toward the stairs and ultimately to the kitchen to begin their morning rituals.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Nitish was not remotely surprised to find many of his guildmates (official and honorary) up and about, talking amongst themselves. They had paired off, essentially, either sitting in the sitting area upon the couches, or were standing up and facing each other, all of them carrying some kind of drink (be it coffee or tea) in their hands. The atmosphere was relaxed and comfortable.

Reaching the kitchen, Nitish was once again unsurprised to find that there were already several brewed coffee and tea pots littering the counters. The first thing anyone did, whoever was up and about first, would fill the coffee and tea pots with water before bringing them to the boil. It was literally the very first thing anyone would do. It was an unspoken rule amongst the guild.

And, as per usual, the coffee counter was ever popular.

Immediately beginning the task of getting breakfast ready, he and Mahalah usually the ones to do so – Mahalah all but kicking out anyone else because two in the kitchen was more than enough – Nitish found his attention drawn to the conversations and people around him.

As two certain redheads poured themselves some coffee they continued to converse with one another, talking animatedly and comfortably. Nitish wasn’t sure what they were talking about. Probably about the wharf or airships, something the two both enjoyed.

“So, of course, I’m yelling instructions at them, right?” Ciaran said as he stirred his beverage with a spoon before letting it hit the side of his cup with a clang as he began to speak with his hand. “I could see the pilot as plain as day, right, yet they were making the motion that they couldn’t hear me. I was getting fed up at this point, yer know. Not only were they this close to crashing into the wharf, they were also threatening other airships. So, of course, I end up yelling ‘yer a useless dipshit!’.”

Falkner’s laugh was that of honest amusement as he took a hold of his own drink. “They heard that one!”

“Totally heard me then,” Ciaran said as he stirred his coffee again before dropping the spoon into the sink. “Had a face like thunder, as Da always used to say. Damn rookies not listening to a word any one says.”

“Ciaran, buddy,” Falkner said as he looped his arm around Ciaran’s neck and tugged him closer toward him. “You need to accept the fact that no one is going to be as amazing pilots as we are.”

Ciaran rolled his eyes and smiled as the two moved away from the kitchen and the coffee pot. “Would it kill them to have a small ounce of talent, though?”

Again, Falkner was heard laughing as they continued their conversation. It was nice seeing Ciaran taking up the offer of hanging around the clinic more with them. He worked hard at the wharf, and though he wasn’t working there alone anymore, it was still good to see him out and about more, interacting with others. After the sudden death of his father, he had unintentionally closed himself off by throwing himself into work, wanting to maintain his father’s legacy.

As the two redheads walked away, another pair appeared from Isiah’s office. Much like Ciaran and Falkner, Isiah and Logre were speaking with one another; Isiah with a terse look on his face while Logre looked amused. They must be talking about Mark’s Grand Court, or specifically an official from said government building. Isiah always wore that irritated expression when he had just dealt with a council member.

“Yeah,” Logre said as he and Isiah walked over to the coffee pot to pour a drink of their own. “You do wonder why these officials bother any more. The Count is always on your side.”

“Trying to throw their weight around, probably,” Isiah said as he gave an irritated wave of his hand. “Anyway, being ever diplomatic, I called him a flaring fuckwit and told him that he should throw himself in front of a bounding beast.”

Logre let out a quick, amused laugh before he shook his head and idly scratched at the stubble on his jawline. “As you do in those situations.”

“Do you know what he said to that?” Isiah asked and Logre shook his head. “He said ‘I find that offensive’. Well, fuck me sideways. I couldn’t imagine why. I was totally not trying to offend him.”

Logre immediately laughed again and Nitish couldn’t help but allow a small smile of amusement to make its way upon his lips. He glanced over at Mahalah, the dancer also smiling, he, too, having heard a portion of their conversation. Isiah certainly had a way with people who were genuinely bullying or arrogant. He literally held no fear.

Placing the cut up pieces of white apples into a bowl, Nitish picked it up and turned toward the kitchen table. His gaze immediately fell upon Baldur, who was sitting at the table with a book in his hands. And Varuna was leaning over his shoulder, one hand on the back of his chair while the other was pointing at something in the book Baldur was reading.

“No, look,” Varuna said as he trailed his fingertip along the page. “The way we do it is that potion or tonic needs at least three ingredients. A base or carrier, a middle note, and an enhancer. The base makes up the bulk of the tonic; the middle takes up at least twenty-five percent; while the enhancer is used sparingly.”

Baldur crinkled his nose in confusion. “What exactly is this ‘enhancer’?”

“It’s the most potent ingredient,” Varuna explained before pausing for a moment to contemplate how he could elaborate. “Think of it this way; when you make a cup of coffee, the base ingredient is the boiling water. The middle is the coffee beans, and the enhancer is the milk or sugar. While it’s not entirely necessary to have the milk or sugar, it helps with the enhancement of the coffee. It’s the coffee beans that give you the energy kick, but it would be, well, disgusting to munch on the coffee beans alone, right? The milk or sugar gives it an extra flavour, enhancing it, but too much of it and it will start to interact poorly with the coffee beans. The three ingredients work together. You also need to take into consideration the ingredients used. Some materials could cancel each other out, resulting in what we call a contradiction.”

While Baldur became silent to allow the information to sink in and make sense to him, Nitish quietly set the bowls of fruit upon the kitchen table. He wasn’t going to butt in on their conversation; Varuna was more than capable of explaining the crafting process to the little prince. And Baldur must trust Varuna enough to ask him about it.

“I get that,” Baldur said as he looked up at Varuna. “What I don’t get is why go through so much trouble when there are materials, like cyanite, that is said to be beneficial for fevers or infections.”

Varuna gave him a small smile. “Because when it comes to illnesses or injuries, there is usually more than one cause or ailment. Say you hit your thumb with a hammer. There’s blunt force trauma, bleeding under the skin, swelling, possible bone fracture, possible damage to the nail bed, and the possibility of losing the thumbnail entirely. Your finger doesn’t just spontaneously bleed for no reason. You need to cut the skin, so there’s a trauma involved. And it takes more than strapping a cyanite crystal to your forehead when you have a fever. If it was, who needs healers and hospitals, right?”

A look of realisation appeared on Baldur’s face and he nodded his head in acceptance. “You have a point. How do you know what works together and what doesn’t?”

“Trial and error,” Varuna said with a shrug.

“Who are the lab rats?”

“There are a lot of stupid people out there.”

Baldur was genuinely amused. “Useful for something after all, I see,” he said as he turned his attention back to his book.

Nitish smiled to himself as he made his way back to the kitchen. It was truly wonderful to see them both getting along.

“Morning, everyone,” Roxbury greeted as he descended the stairs, Achyuta right behind him.

The two men received a chorus of greetings from the other occupants of the clinic as they headed toward the kitchen. As Roxbury approached Mahalah, nodding his head in Nitish’s direction as he past, Achyuta immediately made his way over to Nitish. He slipped his hand around to the small of his back as he leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. Nitish closed his eyes briefly from the touch before smiling as Achyuta pulled back.

“Breakfast is almost ready,” Nitish said to Achyuta. “Did you take your medicine when you got up?”

Achyuta smiled at him. “First thing I did.”

“Un. Would you like some tea?”

“I’ll get it. You’re busy enough as is.”

“Hm. Won’t be too much longer.”

Again, Achyuta smiled at him. “It’s always worth the wait.” He then turned toward the tea kettle on the other side of the kitchen, passing by Roxbury who was speaking with Mahalah, the dancer pointing a stern finger at him while Roxbury was a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“You’re kicking me out?” Roxbury asked. “I know my way around a kitchen.”

“Not while I’m in it,” Mahalah quickly retorted. “Nitish and I have everything under control. Any more bodies in here and we’ll just start getting in each other’s way. Now, shoo, get a cup of tea and sit in the sitting room.”

“One day I’ll kick you out of the kitchen.”

“Highly doubt that. Now, off with you.”

“Ok, ok. Honestly…”

Achyuta chuckled as he placed a hand on Roxbury’s back. “I’ve been politely kicked out, too. Let’s sulk together.”

Roxbury laughed softly but nodded his head nonetheless as they both set about getting their morning cups of tea, making doubly sure not to get in the way of the two cooks in the kitchen. They began talking quietly as the moved on toward the sitting room, making a beeline for an empty couch. The one next to where Blayden and Fletcher were sitting together.

The two younger brothers of the guild, however, seemed to have fallen asleep again. Fletcher had his head on Blayden’s shoulder, while Blayden had his elbow on the arm of the couch and his chin resting in his hand. It was actually quite remarkable how the two could fall asleep just about anywhere. A good trait for when one lived in a noisy environment. A bad one when one was out in the wilderness filled with monsters more than willing to eat anyone or anything in their way.

Well, it was something they could learn later. They were normally exploring with both Varuna and Bryce, after all. Those two would react immediately to any threat. And most likely take it out before the brothers even knew what was going on.

Seeing that Achyuta was comfortable sitting and speaking with Roxbury, Nitish turned back to preparing breakfast. And to his silent observations. One of the bonuses of making breakfast was the chance to watch as the members of his family and guild interacted with one another. Seeing the friendships and brotherly moments, watching as they laughed and chatted; it always brought him a sense of peace.

It was also nice to see those who don’t normally interact with one another talking together.

For example, the two that was closest to the front door; Bryce and Kalan. The brown-haired landsknecht was idly rolling his shoulders and neck, the ritual of limbering up that he habitually did, while Kalan curled a strand of his own brown hair around his finger. The two were talking surprisingly comfortably. Nitish could not sense any annoyance or irritation from the two.

He wondered what it could be that the two found common ground on to speak so easily. Although, he was pretty sure that their conversation was blunt but sarcastic at the same time. Add in Isiah and it would definitely be a snark-fest.

Not too far from where Bryce and Kalan where was another surprising pair. Xander and Zesiro, thankfully free from their armour, stood face to face as they spoke. Xander said something and Zesiro abruptly shrugged in a rather dramatic fashion, his face creased into a somewhat irritated look before he folded his arms across his chest and said something in return to the other ex-imperial. However, instead of being perturbed by the gesture, Xander instead nodded his head as if in understanding before he held his chin in thought.

Nitish couldn’t help but wonder what they could be talking about. Their days as imperial soldiers? Or maybe they were exchanging stories on their gradual reintegration into the Tharsis way of life?

In front of the bookcase close to where Xander and Zesiro were standing, Kirjonen and Miach appeared to be talking about the many different books that were located there. Unexpectedly, it appeared to be Miach who was doing most of the talking because every now and again Nitish could sense a spike of surprise from Kirjonen. He was no doubt startled by Miach’s occasional bouts of insightfulness. Most people were.

Nitish was startled from his observations when Telem appeared and swiped a small plate of white apples from the table before heading for the backdoor. Oh, it wasn’t that he had taken some food that startled him; it was the sight of Zoran clinging to his back, his skinny arms around his neck as he looked over his shoulder that was surprising. And the shadowy nightseeker seemed unbothered by the little vessel riding on his back.

Silently, Nitish watched Telem until he was out of sight before quickly turning his attention to the kitchen window and the view of the back garden. Biast and Durriken were already out there, Biast sitting upon the ground as Durriken remained on his feet, speaking with the purple-furred bushi while glancing around at the garden’s many different plants and flowers.

They both turned, however, when Telem quickly approached them, Zoran still happily clinging to Telem’s back. As Telem moved to stand in front of Durriken, he lifted up the plate of fruit he had essentially stolen toward the runemaster, who surprisingly took a half step back, an expression of discomfort on his face.

Seeing his reaction made Nitish abruptly remember that Isiah had told him that Durriken was afraid of food. Any food, no matter where it came from. He wouldn’t tell him how or why he became so fearful, but he did say that Durriken would only eat the same food as Telem and only after watching him eat a piece first.

Nitish continued to watch as Telem pulled the plate back towards him and picked up a piece of his own. However, instead of taking a bite of his own, he lifted it up toward Zoran, allowing for him to take the piece of fruit and eat it without a moment of hesitation.

Upon seeing Zoran eagerly eat and enjoy the fruit he was given and realising that there were no negative after effects, Durriken glanced down at the plate before…hesitantly raising his hand and taking a piece with his thumb and forefinger. Though he still looked uneasy, he eventually brought the food to his mouth and took a bite. He then blushed slightly when Zoran had a motion with his arm, as if cheering him for taking a bite on his own.

Nitish couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Is everything all right, Nitish?” Mahalah suddenly asked him, no doubt spurned on by the fact that Nitish was all but staring out the window.

“Hm? Oh, yes, everything is fine,” Nitish quickly replied as he turned to face the man next to him. “It’s just nice to see how well everyone gets along, isn’t it?”

Mahalah looked at him for a moment before he smiled and nodded his head in understanding. “Hm. It really is.”

They were almost done with preparing breakfast when there was a suddenly knock at the front door. Immediately, everyone fell silent as it had become unusual for anyone to simply knock politely at the door these days. Since he was the closest to the door, Bryce answered it, opening the door wide to reveal a Tharsis soldier. And he appeared to be carrying something.

Nitish felt an unexpected sense of anticipation grow in his chest as Bryce exchanged a few words with the guard before taking whatever it was that he was holding and closing the door quietly.

“Hey, Isiah,” Bryce called out as he held up a large parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. “It’s a package for you. It’s from your penpal.”