#PI: No it is because you are a sad wet little dog. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luveline · 1 year ago

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if you're still taking them I would love to make a request for Eddie and Roan! do you know how sometimes little kids will call their parents workplace just to talk about the most random things or just ask some totally super important question? I feel like roan would do that with the reader and Eddie

thank you for your request!! eddie and roan ��roan learns how to use the phone, 1.3k

Eddie used to feel nervous when the phone rang for him at work. "Call for baby Munson!" shouted across the shop while Eddie was usually flat on his back under a truck or elbow deep in a scooter engine, he'd get this pit in his stomach thinking something was wrong.

It was usually daycare. Roan's sick, Roan's wet herself and her spare clothes aren't here, is Roan allergic to veggie sticks? Because she's saying she is.

But nowadays, a phone rings for him and it's almost always you with something nice to say. You miss him. You've been thinking about him. All manner of gooey soft confession that has him clutching the phone like a loser, desperate for your voice.

He springs away from his lunch when he's called. Darwin gives Eddie a funny look as he passes the phone.

Eddie shrugs it off. "Hello?" he asks. "Y/N?"

"It's me!"

Eddie feels his eyebrows leap up. "Hi, me." Roan hadn't ever used the phone unassisted, to his memory. "Where's mom?"

"She's trying to fix your hair dryer."

Eddie hears it, then, the roaring blow in the background. "Why does it sound like that?"

"She dropped it. I think she's sad."

"Ro, I fixed it!" you shout, followed by an even louder howling of air, and a heavy silence. "Okay, I didn't."

"Is that why you called me?" Eddie asks, bemused.

"No, I called you because I want to know how they make corndogs. How do they get the hot dog inside of the corn, dad?"

Eddie puts his hand on the wall to steady himself as he laughs. "You wanna know how they make corndogs? Are you gonna make some?"

"I could if I knew how!" she stresses. "I'd ask mom, but she's pre-oc-u-pied."

"That's a big word, babe, where'd you learn that one?" Eddie asks, impressed.

"Dad, corndogs!"

"Right, right. Okay, well. They put the hot dog on the stick first, and then the corn part is actually batter. They roll the hotdog around in the batter and cook them together in the fryer. So it isn't the hotdog going into the corn, it's actually corn going on the hotdog."

"Batter like for cakes?"

"No," he laughs fondly. "And it's not sweet corn, babe, it's something called cornmeal. Maybe we can make some this week, wouldn't that be fun? Then you can see how they make them for real. I think that would be super fun."

His bubbly tone attracts the attention and subsequent laughter of his colleague. He throws them all the bird, totally content and more than happy with his life and his curious girl.

"Yes," Roan cheers, dragging the 's' syllable until she's out of breath, "oh my god that would be so fun!"

"Okay, then that's what we'll do. Are you being good for mom?"

"I'm being awesome." There's a weird crunching noise. "Did you hear that? I think she put the screwdriver in the hairdryer again."

"Again?" Eddie asks worriedly.

Roan must put the phone down. Eddie genuinely can't hear a thing, until you pick up the receiver and say, "Hallo?"

"You blowing up the house?"

You make a pleased noise that has his heart doubling in size. "Hi, Eddie. I'm having a technological mishap, but rest assured, we are in no danger of explosion. Anymore. What did you call for? It's lunch, isn't it?"

"Actually, Roan called me. She wanted to know how to make corndogs."

"You do know everything," you say. "Go and eat your lunch, baby. We'll still be here when you get home, yeah? I love you. Roan, come and tell daddy you love him before we hang up."

A small silence. "Dad?" Roan asks.

"Yep, still here."

"I love you, okie dokie? Please come home in an hour."

Eddie laughs warmly. It's more like four hours, but whatever she wants to think is what he'll tell her. "I love you. Tell Y/N I love her, too, will you? Thank you."

"Yes!" Her voice comes quieter, "I love you," Roan says to you.

"I love you, too. Let's make dinner."

You must think he's said goodbye, because the phone gets a knock and the dial tone sounds.

—

You're sitting at your desk shovelling pretzels into your mouth while you click around your emails when the phone rings. You slide it between your ear and shoulder, pausing your frankly messy chewing. "Hello and good afternoon, Y/N L/N speaking, how can I help?"

"Y/N?" Roan says worriedly.

"Roan? What's the matter?"

"Oh, it is you! It didn't sounded like you at first, that's weird."

"Sorry, gorgeous, I was using my voice for fancy grown ups."

She giggles like this is the funniest thing you've ever said to her, "You're being funny," she praises.

You're secretly incredibly pleased. Making your six year old laugh never gets old. "So nothing is wrong, then? You know, those numbers on the fridge are for emergencies."

"This is an emergency."

"Yeah, I bet. What's going on? Where's dad?"

"He's making toffee cake for you. I was helping him do the buttercream but my arms got tired from whisking."

"Is that why you're calling me?"

"Yeah."

You dig for a saltier pretzel and chew thoughtfully. "What's the tiredest part? Your shoulders?"

"And my fingers."

"Asked daddy to kiss 'em better?"

"I would but he's trying to be perfect about the cake. It looks yummy."

"Did you get to lick the bowl?"

"Yeah, and dad let me eat a spoon of the melted chocolate. It was pretty great."

You grin into the receiver. "I bet it was amazing. Maybe you can try and rest your poor arms. Make daddy pour you a big glass of cranberry juice with the heart shaped ice cubes and watch TV until I come home, okay? That's an order."

"Okay," she laughs. "When are you coming home?"

"I can leave in about twenty minutes, and the drive home takes another twenty, so…" You check the time on your computer. "I think by five."

"Ugh, that's forever away."

"I know. Do what I said, okay? Sit down on the couch. I can have a little look at your arms when I come home, maybe we can have a pamper night tonight. We can use some of my fancy lotion and rub it in like a massage," you say.

"That sounds nice," she hums.

"Alright, sweetheart. Listen, can I talk to dad before I go back to work?"

"Yep, yep." You know what's coming as soon as she inhales. "Daddy!" she bellows at the top of her lungs, "Y/N's on the phone!"

It's flattering how swiftly he gets there. "Hey?" he asks.

"Hi, do we need anything for me to grab on the way home? I know you ran out of deodorant, was there anything else?"

"Nothing I can think of. You okay?"

"I'm awesome. I told Ro you'd make her a big cup of juice for her sore arms."

"She told you about those, huh?" He kisses her audibly. "She's the best mixer ever. I was thinking we'd change her name to kitchen aid."

You choke on a pretzel. Coughing, you laugh through a chastisement. "You leave her name alone. Roan is a nice name all by itself."

"If you insist," he says grandly. "See you in an hour? I've got a surprise for you."

"I can't wait," you say. You'll pretend to be totally surprised at his cake, no problem. Anything to make him smile. "Love you both. See you soon."

"Love you. Say love you," Eddie prompts.

"I love you!" Roan yells. "I'll make dad put your blanket in the dryer!"

You put down the phone with a small smile, wondering if you can weasel your way past your eagle-eyed coworkers for an early finish.

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nosleepfoxtales · 8 months ago

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I do i.t. for the supernatural. Today I met the off-brand three stooges.

"So, ah, what did you do once the slime had, um, given birth to you?"

I sighed. My therapist was doing her best with what I was giving her. It's hard when one person is thinking metaphorical and the other literal.

"Well. I still had it's many children clinging to my jacket and slacks, so I shook myself off like a wet dog," I wasn't even sure this therapy was helping me. To her, I was just having some very fucked up dreams.

I didn't lie to her. But when someone tells you they were eaten and birthed by a giant green cube, it's hard not to have a little doubt.

"Hmm. And what did you feel then? Free? Unburdened?"

A snorted chuckle was all I could muster because to be honest, I felt PISSED. Less like the ham stuck in a poorly designed 1960's jello mold, but still pissed. Was it ham? What the hell were they putting in that jello, anyways? Who's idea was that? The original creeped me out, so I definitely didn't have any love for it's apparent descendant, cube mother.

I held back the sigh this time, "Like I need to address my problems head on."

and find that bastard Eli and get some answers, I added in my head.

After our session, I went straight to Moe's, my favorite hookah bar. No relation to the simpsons, I assumed, as it was run by a jovial Indian man named Gaurov. I had been trying for two years to pronounce his name and was still butchering it, but he was always very nice about it.

"Pi-pi!" his eyes lit up as soon as he saw me, golden irisis filled with mirth.

"You have to find a better nickname, Gau."

"Okay, I'll GO right now!" he laughed, a deep belly laugh and slid a red hookah from the counter beside him, "Pi-pi, this flavor is called Sex on the Beach. If you're not getting it, you can at least taste it."

I scowled at his grin, shaking one fist at him while using the other hand to snatch the hookah.

"Who wants to fuck on the beach, man? Do you want sand in your nethers? I didn't think so," I plopped a guard on the tip of the pipe and took a good breath in, "Not bad, though."

"What I can do for you, miserable lady?"

"I need to talk to Eli. He's not picking up my calls and the last job he sent me to is going to be the most challenging case of my therapists career."

He laughed again.

"Haven't seen him, milady. You've got some jello in your hair, did you know?" he picked a piece out of a shock of hair next to my ear, "Someone was hungry."

My face was going to get stuck in a scowl if I didn't stop, so I smiled at him, making some excuse, and we chatted for a bit about his grandkids and his various Nascar bets.

"You know you're the only non-white trash person who watches Nascar, right?"

He pouted, shook his head in mock sadness.

"White people can't have nothing nowadays, can they?"

Once I left the bar, I intended to just keep calling Eli until he picked up, but not even 20 paces past, I was jerked off the street into an alley. I stamped my boot in a puddle and got mud all over my jeans.

"Dude!" I yelled, unceremoniously.

"I'm not a dude." the voice was deep, harsh, bubbling, "And no one can hear you, so screaming is a waste of both of our time."

I gaped up at the man who was speaking. He was broad-shouldered, in a deep grey suit and shiny black shoes. His hair was nicely tucked against his head, an ebony matte, very sleek looking.

I didn't say "You look like a dude to me," because one, well, I'm nonbinary so who am I to assume people's gender.

But second and more importantly, the two figures beside him were definitely not human. Crouching back in the shadows, hunched over and poised with a restlessness that said they were ready to spring at a word, lackeys was the only word that could come to mind. A human man wouldn't have paranormal lackeys hanging on his every word.

They were both horrible, but in opposite directions. One was fat and unkempt, his clothes loose and his face stuck in a scowl.

See? I thought manically, It does get stuck that way.

The other was like a business slender man, far too tall and gangly, hunched over and seeming to lean on the wall for support. They both wore the same style of suit but it didn't fit either of them like it did the main guy, hanging loosely in some places and clinging tightly to non-human shapes in others. I couldn't make out either of their faces very well, besides noting the displeasure in both.

I had been alternating between gaping up at this guy and nervously sliding glances towards his henchmen for 30 seconds, so I cleared my throat and tugged my shirt down, Picard style.

"Uh, what can I do for you, big guy?"

"I am not a 'guy', either. You are a human," his voice was deadpan.

"uh, yes, i, um, am," my glance slid for the first time toward the street, which was odd for me since I'm always looking for an exit plan. I guess I was just flabbergasted by being accosted by Benny and the jets in broad daylight. But a shimmery filter seemed to separate me from the street. Even the light in the bubble we were in seemed replicated, like warm fluorescent lighting.

"You have been playing with a man named," he paused, seeming to think as my attention was snapped back to him, "Eli? Is it?"

He took a step towards me, and I hit the wall of the alley taking one back as well.

"Uh, I'm not sure playing is the right word," I stammered, one hand flat against the wall behind me. The long skinny form behind him growled a low growl, seeming to vibrate. He shoved off the wall and began clambering towards me.

Fuck. Of all the times to be unarmed. My therapist got nervous whenever I brought blades into the office, especially since the ones that I'd need for protection were pretty sizeable. Plus a lot of them had 'sacrificial' in the name, which she also wasn't a fan of.

I squeaked and leaned as far back against the wall as I could, but Boss man gave him a cold over-the-shoulder look and he stopped dead. He muttered miserly, before slowly returning to his awkward lean against the brick.

"He has been here too long," he sent a wistful glance to our left, into the main street where dozens of humans strode along the sidewalk carefree, "He needs to go home."

His glance flicked back to me and the entire power of his cobalt blue gaze hit me all at once. His eyes would have been attractive had he been human, but the light green ring around the outside of his pupil gave him away. Olive colored and sapping darkness from the deep blue iris, the ring constantly moved, shaking as it circled the pupil. As it was, it just made me feel like prey being played with by a predator.

"You will refrain from contacting him or there will be consequences. Is that understood?"

He seemed like the kind of guy who was used to his questions being rhetorical, even the idea of refusing comical. It lit a small fire in me, chasing the cold of fear out for a moment.

"Listen, not-dude and not-guy, I'm a contractor, okay? I go to who pays me. Keep your quabbles between you," my voice started strong but shrank bit by bit until I was almost whispering the last word.

The goonies behind him had seemed to swell half their size, and the light in the bubble slowly transitioned from the dull blue to a light glowing pink as he stared steadily down into my face.

Feeling like a coward but not really caring because I, you know, like to live, I started sputtering.

"Look, there's a thousand other people on this block alone that can do what I do. Taking out ONE of his techs isn't going to get him to do what you want. Honestly, I'm not sure what will, he's the most stubborn dud- uh being I've ever met. If you're having issues, I know a great therapist," I finished weakly.

"ENOUGH," Slender business man screamed loud enough for me to flinch and cover my ears like a kid at a concert. He slammed his fists into the wall to shove off and began rushing towards me, his clambering steps bouncing his small gangly head.

I noticed a smell I hadn't before, which I wouldn't have recognized without Eli's interference. I mean, honestly, how many of you know what brimstone smells like? It really didn't give me much help for the current situation, but I filed it away for just in case I survived.

Before I could move a muscle, the man in front of me snapped his fingers and slender business man exploded. Like, full on, inside out, exploded. Pieces of him rained down as I stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the gory rain coming down around us.

"Ah!" I flinched back as a piece landed on my arm and burned it's way down. I frantically wiped it on my pants, the true victim in all this, and suddenly I noticed why his stride was so imbalanced.

In his wake, his footprints were imprinted into the cement. He appeared to be melting through the concrete with every step, the footprints cutting off right where he exploded.

"Okay, bud," I started, "And I don't care if you're a bud or not. Either explode me or let me go because I promise you, you're not getting to Eli through me. He's not even picking up my calls."

"Hmm. This might be more troublesome than I first thought."

Beginning to deeply regret my haste, I backed towards the street, the frizz from the barrier pulling my hair to stand on end.

His penetrating gaze bored into me, and as I placed a hand up to the barrier, I saw someone walk by, barely sparing a glance into the alley. But they did look, nonchalantly, and then back to the street. She couldn't see me, I realized, my heart dropping. I was truly alone with this malevolent being and who knows if they'd even leave my body? I was going to just vanish without a trace.

I turned back to see him, hands in pockets, striding towards me calmly, his jacket tails waving casually around his forearms.

I searched my brain for what I could possibly say to him. I didn't even know what he was, let alone how to negotiate for my life from him.

As I was debating my willingness to pray to the ether, he had come up just about chest to chest and I stared up at him, trying to puff myself up. Not sure why, he's not a bear. I guess it's human instinct to try to make yourself look big when cornered.

"You should have listened, Woman."

He raised his hand and I closed my eyes, not wanting to catch sight of any of myself exploding around the alley. Before I could even squeak again, something soft banged against the back of my knees, causing my legs to buckle underneath me. A flash of silver popped up in front of me, topped by a familiar growth of onyx curls.

I let out a short shriek as I landed on my ass, moaning and rubbing my hip.

"She's not a woman, she's a non-binary," Nathan explained simply.

I swore and, ignoring my swollen hip, snatched him backwards.

"Nathan," I hissed, "get the fuck out of here. What the fuck are you doing?"

"You're not supposed to say 'Fuck'," he said.

"You're not supposed to say fuck, Nathan. I say fuck because I have very good reasons. Now-"

"How come you're not calling me squirt anymore?" he asked, sulking.

My emotions could not have been more upheaved at this moment. Nathan is Eli's nephew, whom I had been tasked with babysitting not long ago. With how obsessed this guy was with Eli, this was the absolute worst place for Nathan to be. My resignation at being taken out by an anime character was quickly replaced with a fresh batch of fear.

"Squirt, please, blink back home and I'll come visit you, soon, okay?" I was pleading with him, clutching him by his slender shoulders. My shaking voice was not going to be able to summon the mom voice by the time this kid was a splat against the concrete.

"Olgir?"

Nathan did a 180, gazing up at mr. scary eyes and squealing with glee.

"Uncle Sloane!"

I groaned loud enough for people outside the bubble to hear, and the man mirrored me to my surprise.

"You've gotta be kidding me." I moaned.

"How do you know my nephew?" Sloane asked, then dipped his head, "Ah, obviously. My brother put you together."

"Brother?" I squeaked, furious, "You were going to kill me so your brother would come home for a freaking visit?"

He lifted his chin, looking down his nose at me.

"I wasn't going to kill you, stupid human. I was just going to put you in another universe where you wouldn't be in my way," he sniffed and adjusted his jacket, pulling down his sleeves.

I was incredulous.

"Oh, okay, well that's fine then," I said bitterly, and somewhat shockily.

"Uncle Sloane, that's mean," Nathan frowned up at him, "Auntie Piper is my friend."

"Oh, Auntie Piper is it?" he asked, bemused, his enourmous hands shoved back in his pockets.

"Where is Uncle Eli, Olgir?" Sloane asked, particular poison in the words Uncle Eli.

"Uncle Sloan," Nathan elongated his name, emphasizing it, "Up here, you call me Nathan. 'You can call me Nathan', right, Auntie Piper?"

He was beaming at me but I could only stare at him in a stupor, alternating my gaze between him and Sloane.

"Is there anyone in this family not trying to kill me? Just curious," I pushed myself up, brushing the stray pebbles from my pants, before heaving a huge sigh and placing my hands on my hips. I was out of emotion, I had wrung myself dry between being snatched by Senpai here and thinking, for the second time this month, that I was about to watch this kid die.

Sloane scoffed.

"My brother would never let a woman die under his care."

"She's not a woman, she's a-"

"I don't care about your petty human politics," he spat, his former ruthlessness bleeding through, "and neither does my brother. He's tolerating it because you're of use to him. Don't let your tiny human mind become confused into thinking he cares for you."

"Okay, Jordan Peterson," I replied, chuckling at his confused expression. Now that he was scowling, I definitely saw the resemblance to Eli.

"How many times must I remind you, I am not a dude, and I am not a guy, and I am not a Jordan Peterson."

"Okay, Sloane, first off, I was never under the delusion that he 'cares for me'," I bunny quoted with my hands even though I doubted he knew that particular piece of human culture, "I've still got fucking sentient jello in my hair."

He cocked his head, clearly still confused, and I decided tutoring whatever he was in the human world was beyond my abilities at that moment.

"And second of all, I'm just hired help, okay? I'm not the one keeping him here, and away from," I gestured wildly, "wherever it is you're from. You need to talk to him, not me."

"Hmm." he said in a sound of dismissal.

"Come, Olg-," he sighed in disgust, "Come, Nathan. Let's go see if we can find Uncle, hmm?"

Nathan gave me a friendly wave and skipped off, hand in hand with my would be executioner. Or...travel agent, I guess? I peeked around them and saw the fatter of the lackeys melting into mist, leaving a pile of soggy clothes to rot in the alleyway.

Frazzled but out of energy to think about it, I watched them stroll away before returning to Moe's and checking my phone. Six missed calls from Eli.

"You better be dead," read a text from him.

Oh, don't you worry, Eli, I thought, this was a call I couldn't wait to return.

#scary stories #short stories #nosleep #series

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noladyme · 4 years ago

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xo - Red (A Clark Kent/Superman oneshot)

Just a really funny; warm; kind; built like an Olympic athlete, with perfect lips friend? Tag-list: @wolf-lover-bookdragon @wonderlandfandomkingdom

TW: Fluff. So much fluff. Explosions.

Fifth date. Things were supposed to happen, right? I mean, at least a kiss; other than a peck on the cheek. But he was a friggin’ gentleman; which I couldn’t help but be a little annoyed about; as it made it very difficult to get to the fun part of our relationship. Not that we didn’t have fun, mind you. Clark had an uncanny way of turning my frown upside down.

Ever since I’d run in to him – literally – at that coffeeshop a few months ago. I had left home early, so I wouldn’t be late for my first day at my new job, at the elementary school. I’d been so nervous about it; I hadn’t been able to fall asleep until 3 am; and was now battling exhaustion, nerves, and the fact that my new red shoes were really uncomfortable – all at the same time. I’d ordered a large black coffee; extra strong; and was on my way out the door – the sun in my eyes – when I tripped on the steps; my drink splashing out of the cup.

Suddenly; two strong hands were grabbing my shoulders; and pulling me up to stand. “Are you ok?”, a warm voice said. I looked up, and found two friendly blue eyes looking me over. “Yes, thank you”, I smiled; before noticing the large brown stain on the man’s white shirt. “Oh, crap. I am so sorry!”. He looked down himself; and smiled. “It’s fine. White isn’t my color anyway”. I laughed. “Still, I’m so sorry. Didn’t I burn you?”. The coffee had been scolding; I knew. He smirked. “I’m thick skinned”, he insisted.

He was still holding on to me; and I felt a warmth spreading in my stomach; making me short of breath. “Miss?”. His eyes suddenly looked worried. “Are you sure you’re ok?”. I smiled. “Yes, absolutely. It’s just been… a morning”. He chuckled. “Can I buy you a new cup of coffee?” I simultaneously nodded and shook my head. “Yes… no… I mean, I should buy you one; as an apology”.

He removed his hands from my shoulders; leaving me to stand on my own. “No need for an apology”, he smiled. “But I’ll take the coffee”.

We’d spent 10 minutes sipping at our hot drinks – for which he’d insisted to pay – and talking about what we did for work, and what our favorite movies were; having noticed an advertisement for some superhero movie on a passing bus. Apparently Clark wasn’t a fan of superheroes; but found it hilarious that I loved The Wizard of Oz – being from Kansas himself. Then; Clark had asked for my number, and I’d given it to him. He shook my hand, and we’d said goodbye.

The next afternoon; he’d called me, and we’d gone to see a movie – one about aliens instead of superheroes. He’d still been frowning all the way through it. “It was just really… unrealistic”, he said afterwards over a beer at a local bar near my apartment. He walked me home, declining my offer to come up for coffee; and had given me a short hug, before saying goodbye.

The next time has been a trip to an apple picking farm. “You can take the boy out of Kansas…”, I’d chuckled, as he’d carried a bushel of Granny Smith’s back to his car. “I just really like pie”, he’d smiled. He’d driven me home; and on the way there, told me about his moms pies; and how it was his favorite thing in the world – next to sweet potato fries. When he dropped me off; he leaned in, and kissed my cheek. “Goodnight”, he’d whispered; and I’d bit my lip – and hoped for more. More didn’t happen.

Then there was the quick cup of coffee on both our lunchbreaks; where I’d told him about how I’d sprained my ankle on roller-skates – 3 times in the same amount of years. He’d snorted a laugh. “Well you are kind of clumsy”, he’d said, and removed a strand of hair from my face; putting it behind my ear – before running off for a sudden work emergency.

And lastly; the roller-skating rink. Because I insisted. And he said he couldn’t say no to me. That night, he’d held my hand as we went about the floor; and grabbed my waist several times, as I was about to fall. “Careful, slick”, he’d said. “Oh, is that my nickname now?”, I’d chuckled. “No. I think I’ll call you Red. From those godawful shoes you were wearing when I met you”. It was another kiss on the cheek; and a hug that lingered, and made my knees weak. And then just… goodnight.

So yes. I was just about desperate to kiss the man. He was gorgeous; which at times had made me feel insufficient and a bit self-conscious – but then there was the way he looked at me. His eyes would light up as I talked; as if I was the most fascinating person he’d ever met. Even when our conversation was about cereal, or how one of the kids at my school had put bead up his nose. It was like his eyes drew me in; and then – as my breath would hitch, and I’d part my lips – he’d pull back as if nothing had happened.

I couldn’t help but ask myself; does he just want to be my friend? My really funny; warm; kind; built like an Olympic athlete, with perfect lips friend? I’d decided that I needed clarity on where we were going with our relationship – even if that thought did make me feel like I was living in a sad rom-com, where everyone was always talking about their feelings.

Tonight, it was dinner. Nothing fancy, just a steakhouse I’d suggested. If Clark turned out to just be in it for the apple picking and coffee; then at least I could drown my sorrows in a medium rare steak, with enough bearnaise-sauce to drown a small elephant.

—

Putting on my favorite jeans, black pumps, and a snug top; I waited for the call to let me know Clark was by the door on the street. He’d never been inside my apartment; and didn’t seem very interested in it either. This isn’t real, I told myself to guard my feelings against the inevitable rejection I’d have to face that evening. We’ll eat, laugh; and he’ll walk me home – and then tell me that he’s got a wife and three kids in Smallville, waiting for him to come home for game-night.

A text message made my phone light up. Hey Red. I’m late. So sorry. Be there as soon as possible. – C

Great. That gave me even more time to just hang out… and be anxious.

No worries, Kansas. See you. xo – R Send… Crap, why did I write xo? What am I; a teenager?

I sat down on my couch. Deciding I needed to pass the time doing something other than stare at the wall; I turned on the television. Landing on the news; I dropped the remote.

In Stockholm, Sweden, the building of a new sky-scraper in an old neighborhood; had made a nearby building begin to crack in the foundation. The old residential was quickly giving in; and families were being evacuated from their homes. There were firetrucks spraying water at the structure, to avoid flames from any electrical fires.

Though it was a terrible situation for those families; I was confused as to why one building falling apart half way around the world, was a breaking news story here. That was until I saw a figure at the bottom of the screen; seemingly supporting the weight of the building on his shoulders. Oh, right! That guy! The Superdude…, I chuckled to myself; and went to see if Clark had texted me back yet.

Nothing. It was probably the xo-thing. He didn’t know how to reply to that.

The news story ended when cameras filmed Superman handing a shaking and wet puppy to a little girl; who kissed his cheek in thanks. I always found it kind of neat, that the flying caped man managed to know where every camera was; so that anyone watching would find it difficult to make out his features. From what I could see; he was sort of cute. If Clark doesn’t work out; I could always throw myself of a building; and have that guy catch me. It must be lonely in that fortress of solitude; maybe he’d like some company.

A text. Outside in 5. Can’t wait to see you. xo – C

xo. He’d written xo. Right. Big girl pants on, and go talk to him.

—

Outside the door of my building stood Clark; a smile the size of the sun plastered across his face. My heart jumped. He opened his arms; and took me in for a hug.

“Hi, Red”, he breathed. “I’m so sorry I’m late. It was a work emergency”. “It’s fine”, I said and looked up at him; and opened my mouth to say something more – until I noticed something strange.

“Clark?”, I said. He was still holding on to me. “Yeah?”. “This is going to sound weird, but… why do you smell like wet dog?”.

He pulled back. “Yeah… I was doing a story at an animal shelter”, he said. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Let’s go!”, he said, and took my hand.

It was a beautiful night; so we decided to skip the cab, and walk the few miles to the restaurant. We walked down the street, hand in hand. It wasn’t the first time we’d held hands; but then it was because he was trying to keep me from falling. This was different. It wasn’t strange; but warm… familiar. I swallowed hard. “I want to talk to you about something, Kansas”, I said. He looked down. “You don’t want to do that at the restaurant?”, he said with a strained voice. “No, I think I need to do it now”, I answered. He nodded. “Ok. Do you want to sit down?”, he asked; and gestured at a bench on a playground we were passing.

Once seated; I let go of Clarks hand. “What’s up, Red?”, he asked earnestly. “You seem… tense”. He laughed nervously. I smiled. “I like you, Clark. A lot”, I said. “I like you too. A lot”, he smiled. I matched his nervous laughter. “It’s just… lately, I’ve been thinking. About us… and what we are”. He looked down. “Yeah, I figured we’d get to this at some point”. I nodded. “We have fun”, I said. “Like friends. But I don’t know if we both feel like this is more than that. Friendship, I mean”. He sighed. “Right. No, I get it”, he said. “You’re new in the city, and shouldn’t be settling down with anyone serious”.

I looked at him confusedly. “I’m not sure I follow”, I smiled. He took my hand. “You’re an amazing woman, Red”, he said ��And I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. But maybe you’re right, and this is a good time to call it quits. If that’s what you want”. My heart fell into my stomach. “Is that what you want?”, I asked timidly. “I want you to be happy”, he said, smiling sadly. “With or without me in your life. I’d just hoped I’d have a few more dates before you came to your senses about me”.

I frowned. “Clark… you need to be clear with me here”, I said. “Are you breaking it off with me?”. He looked at me with a frown on his face. “I thought you were breaking up with me…”, he said. “You suggested that restaurant; and I thought you wanted to be in public when you did it”. I laughed. “No. I just… really like steak”, I smiled.

He exhaled with relief. “Good. Because I was lying. I really don’t want you to be happy without me…”, he said. “I mean… crap… I want you to be happy; I’d just really like to be a part of it. If you’ll have me”. I bit my lip and nodded. “I’d like that”, I said. “I thought you saw me as a friend because… you haven’t…”. I couldn’t finish the sentence. He took my hand, and tried to meet my gaze. “What? Tell me”, he said. I took a deep breath. “You haven’t kissed me”, I said; meeting his eyes for a second; before looking down in embarrassment.

He put his hand under my chin, and raised it to finally meet my eyes for real. “Red, I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment you spilled scorching hot coffee on my least favorite shirt”, he smiled. “I was just waiting for the right time, and…”. He exhaled and took my other hand; playing with my fingers.

“My life is… complicated. The work I do; sometimes it’s dangerous”, he said. I raised an eyebrow at him. “You write fluff pieces for The Daily Planet”, I chuckled. “That too…”, he muttered and looked down.

I smiled; wanting to ease the tension. “You know, I was watching a news story while I was waiting for you”, I said. He looked up at me with questioning eyes. “Yeah?”. I chuckled. “It was about that Superman guy. He was helping some people; in Sweden I think”, I said. “I was telling myself; that if you didn’t want to see me anymore; I could always just… throw myself of a building, and he’d rescue me. Then I could hook up with him”. He laughed nervously. “What? Like a rebound?”. “More like a… third choice. If you didn’t work out”. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Only third?”, he said. I scoffed. “Have you seen Aquaman? I mean, come on!”, I grinned.

His lips tightened, and he stifled a laughter. “So… if Superman is third… and… Aquaman…”, he raised an eyebrow at me, “… is second. What does that make me?”. I sighed. “The guy I’ve been waiting months to kiss”.

He looked deep into my eyes; and my breath hitched. He put his hand on my cheek; and he leaned in close to me, stroking my temple with his thumb I brushed my nose against his; and closed my eyes, letting my lips part.

Suddenly; he pulled back. “Clark?”, I asked. His eyes were scanning the area; before they met mine again – alarmed. “Red, go home.” “What’s wrong?”, I said. “Did I say something?”.

He stood up and began backing away; his eyes again searching his surroundings. “Listen, go straight home. Don’t stop for anything. I’ll… I’ll call you when I can”. He ran around a corner, and was gone. I heard a strange woosh, and a stray cat ran from the alley he’d gone in to.

I felt suddenly cold. This was the weirdest date I’d ever had; and it hadn’t even really started. Then there was the fact that the guy I was falling head over heels for, finally said he care about me too – and then just… left. That’s it, I laughed to myself. I’m finding a really high building to jump off.

I began walking home. Slowly. I didn’t want Clark to have the pleasure of getting me to do what he wanted me to. Jerk. Not a jerk. Crap; I really like him. More than like. This is real.

I heard a crash, and then a screech; like metal being torn apart. I felt a warm gust of wind, forceful enough to make me stumble. I looked up. Was that seriously a bus flying through the air?

Another crash; this one even closer. I fell to the ground; and was scrambling to get up, when I saw a minivan sliding on its roof towards me. I got on my feet, and bean running out of the way; when something red and blue slammed into the minivan; making it alter its course. Was that?…

I ran towards my block. Red, go home. I’m going; but where are you Clark? Are you ok?

I kept running; fishing my phone out of my pocket, and dialing Clarks number. It kept ringing, but went to voicemail. Hey. This is Clark Kent. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you… beep. Come on, Clark. I need to know you’re ok!

I redialed. Suddenly I heard a phone ringing near me. I looked into a bush; and saw… Clarks jacket? His phone was ringing in his pocket. 2 missed calls from Red – heart emoji. Damn it, Kansas. If I wasn’t so pissed at you; I might think this was really sweet. Where are you?

Screeching… a car landed on the ground 10 feet from me; the force of it throwing me to the ground again. I got up slowly; rattled from the shock.

I began running again; getting closer to my block.

Suddenly; a tank truck was blocking my path; crashing into a bus-shed. My heart was in my throat, and my chest hurt from having run so fast. I tried turning around, but a bus had crashed into an RV, blocking my path in both directions. I was trapped.

I looked up. The sky was covered in smoke from the many burning vehicles around me. The sound of a large crash made me look towards the truck. Something made the vehicle fall onto its side, and slide towards me with such speed that the shock of it made me fall.

I looked back – there was nowhere to run. In three seconds, I would be smashed between the truck and the bus.

Three… Oh God…

Two… Clark, where are you?

One.

A gush of wind; and I flew in to the air. No… I didn’t fly; I was lifted. My feet were dangling in the air; and one of my shoes fell of, landing on the ground hundreds of feet below me. Someone was holding on to me; his strong arms around my waist; and my chest pressed to his – which was adorned with a red S on a yellow background. What?

I let out a terrified whimper. “It’s ok. I’ve got you”, a warm voice said. I looked up into my saviors face. “Clark?”, I gasped. “Hi”, he said with a crooked smile. I opened my mouth to say something. “Don’t speak…”, he said. “The air is kind of thin up here”.

I looked down; and realizing how far up in the air we were, I panicked. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let out a weak squeal. “It’s ok, Red”, he chuckled. “I won’t let you fall”.

He set me down on the top of a building a few miles from the explosions. Once on stable ground, he held on to me for a second; making sure my legs would carry me. I stepped backwards, holding my hand up in front of me. “Y-you…”, I stuttered. He looked at me apologetically. “I know. I should have told you. It’s just… complicated”. He tried to smile.

I stumbled; and fell to my bottom. He took a tentative step forward. “I know. I get it. You’re scared”, he said. I shook my head. “No… it’s… you!”, I said.

He reached his hand out to me. “Please, let me help you up”. I gave him my hand; and he gently raised me to my feet. “Are you ok?”, he smiled. I simultaneously shook my head and nodded. “Yes?”. It was almost a question. He sniggered.

Suddenly I began laughing – the ridiculousness of the situation too comical. “I was supposed to fall off a building; not land on it”, I chuckled. He began laughing with me. “Yeah, I must have gotten those two mixed up”, he said. “It’s like I’ve said; I can’t say no to you”.

I sighed, and gently laid a hand on the S on his chest. “So… what now?”, I asked. He smiled. “I really want to continue what we started on that bench”. I chuckled and bit my lip. “Ok”.

He slid his arms around me – his tall and broad frame almost enveloping me – and I melted into his arms. His face came close to mine; and the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes; where his striking blue ones, boring deep into me.

He tensed up; and when I opened my eyes again, he was frowning, and turning his head, as if listening.

“I’m so sorry, Red; but I have to finish this”, he said. Another gush of wind; and he was gone. “Seriously?!”, I yelled after him.

—

I made my way down the skyscraper Clark had left me on; where I was met by the sirens of police cars, and people pointing at the sky. I was out of danger – I knew – but no less rattled. I was wearing a pump on one foot, and limping barefoot on the other; until I simply gave up; and took off the shoe – throwing it in a trashcan.

I walked all the way home; confused and dizzy. On my block, people were standing in the streets, murmuring to each other; and looking at the fires in the distance. It was as if there was line drawn through the city. On one side; havoc, and crashed cars – on the other, where I was… nothing. It was as if nothing had been touched.

One of my neighbors tried to stop me in the doorway; noticing the shell-shocked look on my face, and my bare feet. “Were you in that? Are you ok”, he asked. I shook my head. “I’m fine. It’s nothing”, I smiled.

I stumbled into my apartment; threw my jacket on the floor, and grabbed a beer from the fridge – plopping down on the couch.

Well… that was something…

Without anything else to do, I took a large swig of my beer; and turned on the television.

“… explosions in downtown Metropolis this evening; as terrorists connected to the incarcerated Lex Luthor, placed explosives on multiple vehicles, throughout the city…”

Footage of explosions, and scenes of police cars and firetrucks racing down the streets.

“… no casualties, due to the quick intervention of the group calling themselves The Justice League…”

A man who looked like Robocop, pointed at the camera, and the screen blurred. There was a flash of red; and just after it, footage of a group of men captured by a shiny lasso, held by a woman dressed like a Greek goddess. A burning building was drowned in water; and a smirking longhaired man – still hot… – was yelling booyah’s at it.

“… headed by the Batman; and Metropolis’ own Superman…”

I saw the Gotham Knight shaking hands with…

It was Clark. It was always him.

There was a knock at my door. When I opened it Clark stood outside. Not red and blue Superman – just my Clark; dressed in jeans; a plaid flannel; and wearing his glasses.

“Hi”, he said. “Hi”, I answered. “I brought you something”. He pulled out my black pump; the one I had dropped from the air. I chuckled. “Great, now I just need the other one”. He pulled out the other one as well. “It might smell a little. It was laying in a trashcan”. I took the shoes from his hands, and half smiled at him. “I have something of yours as well”, I said, and gave him back his phone, from my jacket on the floor. “Thanks”, he said. “The suit doesn’t really have pockets”.

He clenched his jaw. “Can I come in?”, he asked. I stepped aside, and he walked into my combined kitchen/living room. “You have a nice place”, he smiled. “Thanks”, I said quietly; as I closed the door behind him. His large frame seemed to fill the entire space. “Do you want a beer?”, I asked. He looked at me warmly. “Yeah, sure”. I handed him a cold one. “You can sit down”, I said. “Unless… you pulled a muscle flying me through the sky”.

He chuckled at me, and sat down on my couch. “No, I’m fine”, he smiled. I raised a brow; and sat down on the couch with him – leaving some space between us. “Right; you can lift buildings and stuff like that”, I muttered.

He exhaled, and took a swig of his beer. “Yeah… about that”, he began. “I was going to tell you”. “Why?”, I muttered. “It seems like something pretty big. I get why you’d want to keep it private. Have a… secret identity”.

He frowned. “I wanted to tell you, because I care about you. And I want you to be a part of my life… all of it”. I met his eyes. “Really”. I bit my lip. “You… care”, I said. He reached for my hand; and I let him take it. Our fingers linked into each other. “You’re funny; smart; passionate”, he said. “And you’re beautiful”.

I scrunched up my face in embarrassment. “Ok, now I’m uncomfortable”. “Why?, he said, and stroked my cheek; moving closer to me on the couch. I sighed. “Because you’re… you. The Superdude. You can see every flaw…”. “There isn’t a flaw on your body”, he smiled. I scoffed at him. “I’m serious! Every little thing… the wrinkle between your eyebrows when you’re concentrating… how your one hand is a little bit smaller than the other… that beauty-mark on your back…”. “How did you know about that?”, I interrupted. He smiled embarrassedly. “That loose fitting top you wore on our last date. The dark blue one”, he muttered. “I love all of it”. I half-smiled. “There’s actually two of them… the beauty-marks”, I said. “I didn’t want you to think I was creepy for looking”, he smirked.

“You love it?”, I mumbled. He swallowed. “Yeah, Red”, he said. “I mean… I’ve fallen hard for you”. I giggled nervously. “So, this is real…”, I muttered. “I want it to be”, he smiled. “Do you?”. I nodded, and looked at him through my lashes. “Yeah, I do”, I said.

He let out a relieved sigh, and chuckled “Good… Are you sure?”, he smirked. “I could introduce you to Arthur”. I frowned. “Arthur?”, I sneered. “In that case, never mind!”.

We laughed together; before Clarks face became apprehensive. “And…”, he couldn’t form the words. “Your other side?”, I said. He shook his head. “It’s not my other side. It’s me. It’s who I am”.

I squeezed his hand gently, and placed it on my knee. “I fell for you, without knowing everything you were”, I said. “What I know now… just makes you… better”. His eyes lit up. “Really?”, he half-whispered. “Yeah”, I smirked. “Besides; I kind of like how the suit makes your butt look”.

He raised his brows at me and laughed – putting his free hand to my cheek, and stroking my temple. “Oh!”, he said. “Well… yours isn’t half bad either”. I frowned. “Did you x-ray my pants?”, I asked; narrowing my eyes at him. He tightened his lips. “Not yet… do you want me to? I mean… I’m up for it”, he smiled, and moved his other hand up my thigh.

I chuckled; and put my hand on his cheek; pulling him closer. “Let’s do the kissing part first – we can get to what’s in my pants later”, I smirked. “Unless, of course, you have another superhero emergency you need to tend to".

He closed his eyes and listened; then opened them again. “Nah, we’re good”, he smiled; and his lips met mine.

He tasted like apple pie and sunshine.

—

#superman #superman x reader #clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman oneshot #clark kent oneshot

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redex-writes · 4 years ago

Note

If you are still doing fic request, AWO , Vincent/Leo Adopting a rescue dog( can be any breed)

Me, sobbing: please just let me write some short fluff This prompt, holding a gun to my head: plot or perish.

I’m sorry for making this so long ^^’ Anyways, this prompt killed me in every conceivable way, so thank you! It was genuinely fun to write, and I hope you like it!!

CW: (Very brief) description of animal neglect

“Leo, what the hell is this?”

Leo blinked at him, for all the world looking like an innocent man—despite the sopping wet, blanket-wrapped retriever he had just returned home with.

“I know it’s been like eighty years since you were in school,” he said, “but this, Vincent, is what they call a dog.”

“Funny,” Vincent deadpanned. He closed the door behind Leo to keep out the nearly torrential rain, grimacing when Leo knelt to place the shivering dog on the ground.

“May I ask why you thought it would be a good idea to bring a stranger’s dog into our house in the middle of a record-breaking rainstorm?”

Leo was already discarding the filthy blue blanket, tossing it to the side; it landed with a wet plop by Vincent’s feet, and he cringed.

“I don’t think she belongs to anyone,” he said, carefully running his fingers through the matted fur around the dog’s neck. “No collar. Besides, just look at her.”

Vincent had to admit that the dog did look rather worse for wear; its fur was tangled and muddy, and it was definitely quite thin. It looked up at him with big brown eyes, as if it were agreeing with Leo.

“Still,” he said, eyeing it warily, “you don’t know where it’s been. It could have fleas, or rabies, or god knows what else.”

Leo looked up at him, and Vincent was caught off guard by the intensity of his glare.

“So what, you wanna just kick her back out on the street into the rain?”

“Christ--no, Leo.” Vincent frowned, feeling a bit like he was being scolded. “But you need to think about stuff like this before you do it. We should take it to the shelter.”

Leo gave him an incredulous look.

“Are you kidding? Vince, half the city’s shut down from this rain; even if the shelter was open, there’s no way we’d be able to get there in this weather.”

“Well, we can’t just keep it here!”

“Why not?”

Vincent grit his teeth, resisting the urge to snap at him.

“Well, number one, we’re renting this house. Do you even know what the policy is on pets?”

“Do you?” Leo countered. Vincent took a deep breath.

“Number two: if it was a stray, there’s no telling what it could’ve picked up out there.”

“I’m not asking you to stick your head in her mouth,” Leo snapped. “We wash our hands regularly and make sure she doesn’t get into any of the food.”

Vincent pointed at him.

“Three: what will we feed it? It’s not like we keep dog food laying around.”

Leo huffed.

“Dogs can eat other stuff too, you know. And as soon as the rain dies down, I can run to the store and pick something up.”

“As soon as the rain dies down, we’re taking it to a shelter,” Vincent said firmly.

They stood in tense silence for a few moments, glaring. Finally, Leo sighed.

“Fine. But until then, she stays here.”

Vincent pursed his lips. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t like there was much of a choice.

“Fine.”

Leo insisted on giving the dog a bath that night, which Vincent didn’t protest--if they were going to be keeping it in the house, it might as well not be dripping mud everywhere.

Deciding to make himself useful, he opened the linen closet and started rifling through it to find some old towels or sheets they could use for a makeshift bed. Once he’d gathered a suitable pile, he made his way back down the hall. Passing the partly-open bathroom door, the sound of laughter caught his attention, and he peeked inside.

The bathroom was positively soaked--the floor, the towels, and Leo himself. He was kneeling next to the bathtub, holding a bottle of dish soap in one hand and trying to keep the dog at bay with the other. It had obviously perked up since coming into the warm house, trying to lick at Leo’s face while he scrubbed it down.

“C’mon, cut it out,” Vincent heard him chuckle. “Gotta get you all nice and clean, then you can have a little something to eat. That sound good to you?”

As if it could understand him, the dog’s tail gave a happy little wag. Leo grinned.

“Thought so.”

Vincent eased the door shut, a strange warmth in his chest.

To Vincent’s dismay, the rain hadn’t let up by the next morning. If anything it had gotten worse, dark clouds hanging low in the sky and the almost constant sound of rain against the windows echoing through the house.

“Said on the news that lots of roads are flooded,” Leo told him as he sat down with his toast and coffee. Vincent grimaced.

“No doubt. At this rate, even when it clears up it’s going to be a few days before everything’s dry again; not to mention how many basements have flooded, too.”

“At least we don’t have a basement to flood,” Leo joked. Vincent rolled his eyes, hiding his fond smile behind his cup of coffee.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when he felt something furry brush against his bare foot. He looked under the table to see the dog laying curled against Leo’s feet, sleeping quietly.

“Leo, why is it under the table?”

Leo shrugged.

“She wandered in while I was making breakfast. I think the storm’s scaring her; she hasn’t let me out of her sight since I got up.”

Vincent sighed, taking another look under the table. The dog definitely looked better since Leo gave it a good clean up the night before, and he figured that with some proper food and rest it would start to look like itself again.

Once they got it to the shelter, of course.

As if reading his mind, Leo piped up.

“She’s brightened up a bit since I found her. And she’s housetrained, which means someone did own her at one point.”

Vincent hummed, frowning.

“Wonder why they’d just abandon it like that.”

Leo huffed.

“I don’t know, but if I ever find them I’m going to kick their ass so hard they’ll be shitting out of their ears.”

Vincent snorted, failing to hide his grin.

“Classy.”

“I’m just saying,” Leo defended, raising his hands, “anyone who does that shit deserves to be put in their goddamn place.”

“Agreed.” While Vincent may not have been thrilled about their unexpected house guest, he wasn’t a monster.

The dog snuffled in its sleep, its tail flopping against Vincent’s foot.

“Vincent!”

Leo’s call rang out from the living room. Startled, Vincent poked his head inside.

“What?”

He was sitting on the couch, grinning excitedly and holding the old banjo they’d fixed up some months prior. The dog was sitting a few feet away, and it cocked its head curiously as Vincent entered the room.

“Watch this.”

Leo began to strum the banjo, playing a simple tune. As Vincent watched, the dog cautiously started walking towards the couch. Leo paused, and the dog stopped, then started again when he continued to play. He did that a few times, playing some sort of musical ‘red light, green light’ with the dog, until it was right at his feet. It laid its head on Leo’s knees, looking up at him as he finished the tune with a mellow strum.

Vincent couldn’t deny the way his heart warmed at the sight, but he still clapped sarcastically.

“Congratulations. You’re the pied piper of stray dogs.”

Leo didn’t react to the teasing as he scratched behind both of the dog’s ears, grinning at the happy thump of its tail against the carpet.

“Y’know, she looks like a Banjo.”

Vincent stared at him. “Leo, we’ve been rained in for less than a day. It’s way too early for you to be confusing animals with musical instruments.”

Leo gave him a look. It took a moment for his meaning to sink in, but when it did, Vincent’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh, no. No, no no no. Leo, you are not naming it.”

“Why?” Leo ruffled the dog’s ears.

“Because we’re not keeping it.”

Tension thickened the air, the only sound the rain pounding against the window. Leo set his jaw.

“Yeah, you’ve made that plenty clear by now.”

Something in his voice made Vincent falter, but before he could analyze it, Leo was standing and brushing past him out of the room, leaving him alone with the dog.

Vincent sighed. The dog looked up at him, and Vincent had the distinct feeling he was being judged.

“Shut up,” he muttered to no one in particular.

Leo avoided him the rest of the day. By the time Vincent was able to get him to stay in the same room, he had already fallen asleep on the couch. The dog was, of course, laying on the floor next to him; it looked up when Vincent walked over.

He sighed, sinking down to the floor and leaning against the couch. Leo’s hand was hanging down by his face, and he gently lifted it and placed it on the cushion beside his head, giving it a fond pat.

A weight in his lap startled him. He looked down to see the dog looking up at him with big brown eyes, and he gave a reluctant smile.

“It’s not your fault,” he muttered, giving the dog a few gentle pats. “I’m...not used to dogs.”

The dog, of course, just stared. Vincent laughed under his breath.

“He loves you already, though. You must not be so bad.”

His smile fell, and he sighed.

“Though, maybe I’m not the best example.”

As if she could sense his sadness, the dog nuzzled closer to him and closed her eyes. With a soft hum, Vincent scratched her behind the ear as he leaned back against the couch.

“Not so bad at all.”

Despite Vincent being the one who fell asleep on the floor, Leo looked like the walking dead as he dragged himself into the kitchen the next morning. Vincent looked up at him from where he leaned against the counter, giving him an amused once-over.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Leo grumbled. Vincent chuckled into his cup of coffee--at least he didn’t seem upset anymore.

“I hope you’re planning on changing your clothes before we go.”

Leo frowned at him, blearily rubbing his eyes.

“What?”

Vincent gestured to the window, where the heavy rainclouds had been replaced by a bright blue sky.

“Rain’s let up, and I called ahead to the shelter.”

Leo seemed to deflate.

“Oh. Right.”

“...They redirected me to the veterinarian, but luckily they’re open too.”

Vincent had to work to keep his straight face as he watched Leo process the words.

“What? Why?”

Vincent took a sip of his coffee.

“Well, they don’t do vaccinations at the shelter, and she should get a checkup and maybe some vitamins.” He nodded to the dog, who had padded into the room to sniff at Leo’s socked feet when she’d heard him walk in.

Leo looked at him suspiciously, but Vincent could see the faintest trace of hope in his eyes.

“Why do we need all that?”

Vincent let himself break into a grin then.

“As much as I love you, I think we could both do with the help of a trained professional to take care of our dog.”

Leo stared at him for a few long moments, face blank. Then he crossed the floor in three big steps, grabbed Vincent’s face, and kissed him hard.

“You mean it?” he asked breathlessly, a brilliant grin on his face. “We’re keeping her?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Fucking--yes, of course! Oh my god--”

Vincent laughed as Leo kissed him again.

“Go change,” he said, gently pushing him back. “Don’t want the vet mistaking you for the stray.”

“Fuck off,” Leo laughed. He gave Vincent one last peck on the lips before hurrying off to their bedroom.

Vincent set his coffee down on the counter, still smiling. A gentle nudge at his leg made him look down.

“Don’t worry, Banjo,” he said softly, reaching down to ruffle her ears. “You’re home now.”

#a way out fanfic #a way out oneshot #vincent x leo #vincent/leo #reqs

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maisondenachtai · 5 years ago

Text

Oscar Darling (4/??)

pairing: chris x blackactress!reader summary: ...interruptions are so rude.

previous chapter

(author’s note: this was written in haste as I needed to get it out of the way. please ignore any mistakes.)

You had to admit, Chris had you at an disadvantage. His home was warm, it’s white walls with dark wood reminded you of the Northeast. You figured that he would also want his home to remind him of home since he was so displaced. Dodger was nestled right near your feet, cuddling with his stuffed lion watching the fire that was making the dimly lit room, just the right amount of sultry.

It also didn’t help that from your seat in the living room, you had a perfect view of Chris dutifully minding the stove with a towel over his shoulder and a wooden spoon in his hand. You were intrigued. You could remember watching a video where he said that he couldn’t cook anything but eggs, yet there he was in his plain white t-shirt stirring a sauce so it wouldn’t ‘break’.

Every now and then he would look up and give you a grin that had you shifting slightly in your seat. You really didn’t know if you would make it through the night. As you shifted again when he looked up at you, Dodger adjusted so that his feet were warming your toes.

“Is Dodger bothering you?” He asked.

You looked down at the dog, who was sitting so calmly at your feet, and wondered if he ever bothered anyone. “No. Why would you ask that?”

Chris smirked, not looking up from the pot he was stirring, “Well, you keep shifting. …so, you’re nervous then?”

You rubbed the back of your neck, “No. No I’m not nervous why would I be nervous?”

Chris looked up then with a pearly white smile on his face, “Well…a strange guy co-erced you into come over to his house instead of going to a restaurant. He’s cooking your dinner and …who knows what he put in it. Also…there are 4 exits to this house…but they are so far away from where you are right now…he could totally catch you before you could get to one.”

You smirked and picked up the wine glass, taking down a small gulp, “You know…you’re really not helping the whole creep vibe.”

He laughed and walked over with his own wine glass, “Wait, before you label me a creep, I have a second theory. You’re nervous because of the potential of us having sex tonight.”

You choked a little at the word sex and he chuckled.

“Gotcha.” He said looking up from the sauce.

You sat the wine glass not needing to potentially drown from wine inhalation in front of Chris. “You have to admit. It’s kind of weird that we went into this knowing that we might have sex.” You stood up gently, not wanting to disturb Dodger and eased your feet from under him before walking over to Chris in the kitchen.

He looked at you, and nodded, poking his lip out a little. “Yeah, it’s a little weird but only cause people aren’t honest with themselves. I mean, I’m attracted to you…sexually.” When he saw the crestfallen look brush over your face, he grinned. “At least for right now, and you are to me, I think.” He opened up the stove to check on what looked to be chicken. “Right?” There was some nervousness in his voice.

“Mm, yeah I am.” You nodded when he stood up from looking in the oven. He grinned at you, suddenly looking like a happy puppy.

“Good, because this would be really awkward if you weren’t.” And suddenly his lips were on yours and he was all at once moving you to press against one of his countertops. You were stunned for a moment, you were really kissing Chris Evans. His lips were against yours, his teeth biting down on your bottom lip. And oh god, now his tongue was exploring your mouth.

You let out a moan at the sensation you got from his tongue gently coaxing yours forward and then the feeling of his hands roaming over your waist daring to go lower at times. You moaned again and he pulled back slightly breathing slightly hard.

“Good right?” He mumbled.

You hadn’t opened your eyes yet and when you did you were met with the hazy blue eyes you often dreamed about. You bit your lip and nodded.

“That’s it?” He smirked. “Just a nod? I can do better than that.” He angled his head towards yours leaning in for another kiss, but you stopped him. Was that smoke?

“Wait.” You looked past him and almost laughed. It was definitely smoke. “…Chris…I think your sauce is burning.”

“Oh fuck me.” He quickly turned back towards the stove where his pot was definitely smoking.

You giggled, “I’m sure it’s okay. Like I’ve eaten burnt food before, in Louisiana they call it Cajun.” You joked.

He turned the pot off and quickly put it under running water. He leaned against the sink and sighed, now looking like a kicked dog. “Fuck. I was trying to impress you. I don’t know how to cook.” He looked exasperated and his face was turning slightly red. “…I…nevermind.”

“What? What did you do?” You walked over and stood next to him.

He covered his face and laughed, “I…fuck. I bought that Gordon Ramsey masterclass thing. I wanted to cook you something fancy since I didn’t want to deal with a restaurant.”

You grinned inwardly and then it forced itself on your face. You pulled his hand down and your grin doubled at the sight of his red face. “That’s so cute.”

“Cute?” He chuckled. “It’s embarrassing. I couldn’t even follow directions.”

“I mean, it wasn’t your fault.” You brushed his cheek. “You just were distracted. If you never kissed me, it would have been fine. But it was a good kiss, well worth burning some sauce.”

He looked at you then, a smirk beginning on your face. “Just good? I really need to try again.” He leaned towards you again but you tilted your head back, keeping your lips just out of reach.

“…And you can. Later. You.” You poked his chest. “Promised me food, and I am starving.”

And that’s how you ended up on the couch with Chris Evans, a pizza box between you and a pizza box on the coffee table. You were both sitting sideways so that you could see each other and were currently laughing about something silly that had happened to you on set.

“So how did you recover?” Chris asked finishing off another piece of pizza.

“Well, luckily I was only really an extra. Hot Girl B. So I stood up, pulled my skirt up and continued walking in the scene.” You smiled as he laughed.

“I would have been mortified. And this was your first movie?” He picked up his beer and sipped.

“Yeah. Well 2nd really, I was also an extra in The Duff but I wasn’t credited.” You picked up another piece of pizza. “And I was mortified, but I couldn’t show it. Will Smith was literally 4 feet away from me.”

Chris laughed again, showing all of his teeth, looking like he almost couldn’t breath. You smiled then and giggled too, liking that you could make him laugh so fully.

“I can’t believe you can show your face in Hollywood.” He said wiping his eyes. “I hope you had on some good underwear.”

You smirked, “Well I was playing Hot Girl B….so what do you think?”

“Wait.” He stopped laughing, face suddenly becoming serious. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“You were on the set of a Will Smith movie and you didn’t have panties on?” Chris covered his mouth and then moved his hand. “You’re a brave soul.”

“I was playing a hot model type. Models don’t wear panties. You would know.” You smirked at him.

He smirked back at you, “Touche. And I have it on good authority that the models I knew wore panties…. tiny ones.” He sipped his drink smirking behind it when you gasped. “What you brought it up.” He threw his hands up.

“I didn’t expect you to be so candid about it.” You grinned at him.

“I mean. It’s pretty much all out there. So why not be honest about it?” He put his beer down. “What about you?”

“What about me?” You sipped your drink looking away from him.

“What about you? Your dating history. Besides that one PR stunt you did with that one guy, I haven’t heard much about you.”

You folded your arms, looking over at him then. “…How did you know it was a PR stunt?”

He grinned, “I know a thing or two about PR stunts. Plus, the public outings Downtown, kissing right in front of the paparazzi? The obvious hickey on his neck… it was a textbook PR stunt.”

You nodded, impressed. “To my credit, it was my first one. And honestly, it wasn’t really beneficial.”

He pointed his beer towards you, “That was your first mistake, PR relationships have to be beneficial to both parties.”

“First mistake? There were more?” You gazed over at him and he was gazing back at you a small grin on his face.

“A couple, but the main one was in the kiss. He kissed you like this.” And his lips were on yours again, as magical as the first time. He didn’t deepen the kiss though and you were sad about it, a groan even left your lips when he pulled back.

“But…what was wrong with that one? It was simple. Chaste.” You licked your lips.

His eyes followed your tongue before he swallowed the last of his beer, “…Y/n… no man, woman, …person should ever kiss you chastely.” He kissed you then, passionately, moving forward making you lean back to accommodate him. Your back hit the couch and Chris moved to lay in between your legs, still kissing you just as deeply. You heard something hit the floor and moved your head, your lips making a smacking noise as they parted.

“What? What? Is something else burning?” He looked around and then sat up on his knees allowing you to get up.

“No, no. I just heard something fall.” You looked down and saw it. Giggling, you pointed at the pizza which Dodger was picking at. Chris followed your finger and sighed, a grin planting on his face as you laughed harder. Dodger had successfully gotten a piece of crust that you had left in the box.

“No Dodger, that’s not for you!” Chris quickly got up trying to wrestle the crust from his dog’s unwilling mouth.

“Dodger, no.”

The dog barked.

“Dodger, you can’t have this. You’ll have tummy pain.”

Dodger barked again.

This went on for a few minutes before Chris successfully got the albiet wet crust out of his dog’s mouth. He sent Dodger to his bed while he stooped down to clean the rest of the pizza up. You got down to your knees and helped him get the pizza up.

“It’s not a good day for your food is it?” You joked.

“This never happens. I swear.” He said, putting the last of the pizza in the box. You both stood to your feet. “…It’s your lips. They’re distracting.”

You grinned then, your body getting the shivers. “What a line.”

He smirked and walked into the kitchen to put the box in the trash. “It was a line.” He came back wiping his hands off on his jeans. “But that doesn’t mean that it’s not true.” He pulled your face to his, and you softened in his arms, ready to be kissed again.

But then, his doorbell rang.

“Oh fuck me!” You yelled out this time.

He chuckled, “I swear, I’m trying. I’m really trying.” He dropped his hands from your face and walked over to the door. “I’m honestly not sure who this could be.”

“Don’t answer it then.” You called to him as he disappeared around the corner.

You could hear his chuckle and then heard his door open. You flopped down on his couch in a ball of frustration. You heard Dodger whine and looked back at him.

“Me too, boy. Me too.” You pouted at him and then looked the way Chris had disappeared.

You heard the door close and looked away, trying hard to look like you were not desperate for his return.

“Sorry, it was just my agent dropping off a script.” He grinned. “I think I’m going to get this one.” He smiled at you, sitting next to you with the thick binder in his hand. “I have a audition in the morning.”

“Congratulations.” You ran your hand through your hair and smiled at him. “Uh, I guess I’ll go and let you read over the script.” You stood up, grabbing your keys off your table.

“No, you don’t have to go.” He put the binder down. “Seriously, stay. I can read over this later.”

You shook your head, grinning softly at him. “No, you need to be ready for your audition. It’s okay.” You pulled him closer to you and kissed him softly. “Maybe next time.”

“…Tomorrow then. After my audition.” He said against your lips.

You nodded, “Tomorrow. …Just…Dm me.” You joked before kissing him again. You made a step to leave but he pulled you back and kissed you again.

“…Tomorrow.” He said softly against your lips.

“Tomorrow.” You nodded and then waved goodbye to him, before giving Dodger’s sleeping head a rub and leaving out of the door.

Three hours later, you were tossing and turning, kicking yourself. You had missed your chance to fuck Chris. You should have demanded, insisted that he wait on the script and instead memorized how you felt wrapped around his-

No, you couldn’t. You knew how important auditions were, and even with Chris being a mega movie star, you still know that a bad audition could cost him the role that would transition his platform from franchises, to big Oscar movies. He couldn’t be overly tired from giving you the best sex of your life when he auditioned. No you would just have to wait.

You opened your eyes, looking at the clock.

It was 12 ‘O Clock on the dot. Officially tomorrow. The day you would finally have sex with Chris.

You rolled over, hoping to get some sleep.

Knock. Knock

But of course, interruptions were happening a lot lately.

You stood up, and made your way to the door.

“Who is it?”

“Chris.”

You opened the door, shocked. He was wearing a ball cap and a hoodie over a pair of grey sweatpants like he had rolled out of bed as well.

You quickly pulled off your bonnet and threw it to the side, “Chris…what’s going on?” You asked running a hand through your hair.

“…It’s tomorrow.”

And then he kissed you.

(a/n: DON’T STONE ME. I PROMISE NEXT CHAPTER IS SMUTTY!)

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fandom #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x b!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x black reader

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petshopboyss · 6 years ago

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pet shop boys share their favourite things interview

‘Lowe says nothing, just carries on eating his chocolate bar. He has the benign look of a dog who's just had his dinner. I begin. “Okay, well, this Favourite Things piece is just a bit of fun,” I say. There is a short pause.

“We don’t really do fun, we do ranting,” deadpans Tennant. Lowe chirps up: “Neil's only done two rants today.” And Tennant bats the ball straight back: “I’ve done being gay and politics...”

This, then, is the essence of their double act: one serves, the other returns. Let the games begin.’

WHAT WAS YOUR FAVOURITE CHILDHOOD TOY? Neil: Train set. Actually it was my cousin’s train set, it was passed down to us. It was on a green board. Potter’s Bar station. Even now when I get the train to my house in Durham and I go through Potter’s Bar I think of it. It didn’t even occur to me it was a real place until I moved to London. Chris: I had, it was like a Scalextric but it wasn’t. I think it was called Minitrix, but it was made by Hornby and the two were linked together. My brother had a train set so you could have a level crossing and you’d have to stop the car to let the train go past. It was fantastic. Neil: The train going round the villages and little plastic cows… I would have fantasies about where it was. I still would now. I have a very strong fantasy life, which is probably why I do what I do. I could look at this coffee table and imagine it was a country.

SUBJECT AT SCHOOL Neil: History. Still my favourite subject. My history teacher, Frank Keegan, [goes into hysterics] used to be known as Underpants Frank because he wore big Y-fronts and he tucked his shirt into them. He was actually ahead of his time … underwear above his trousers in the 1960s. Chris: [A little nonplussed] That is weird. I didn’t have a favourite subject. I was a bit of a swot but school was just a means to an end, so I could get to university to do architecture.

WAY TO WASTE TIME Chris: Well, I spend a lot of time comatose in front of the telly… Neil: Going through my iTunes finding artwork for tracks I haven’t got artwork for. Chris: …I’ll spend hours flicking through the hundred-and-odd channels on Sky. Just going round and round and round. I really like doing nothing. Literally nothing. Neil: What do you mean, literally nothing? Chris: Watching the television. Flicking. Neil: Chris has always liked watching television. I was reading this book about John Lennon and I’m thinking, “Who does this remind me of…?” Chris! John Lennon is just at home all the time watching the television and sleeping!

PLACE IN THE WORLD Chris: I’m very happy in a very nice hotel room. Anywhere.

Neil: You’re probably in your bathrobe. Chris: Luxuriating in the bathroom, with all the products. You switch your phone off. No one knows where you are. You’re lying on fantastic Frette bedding… Maybe you’re in Miami, or something like that. Neil: And you’re filling out the card for breakfast. [Laughs] I only learnt to drive last year. I passed my test on the first attempt. There’s this big moor close to where I live near Durham, where I love driving. I have my dog in the back of the car. He’s a Lakeland terrier called Kevin. So, Kevin’s looking out of the back and he’s hoping he’s going to get a walk. And I might stop the car and just smell the air, which is really peaty and fresh…

TIME OF DAY

Neil: Breakfast. First thing in the morning the day is full of expectations. Chris: Lunchtime.

TIME OF YEAR Chris: Spring, because you can sense the season’s change and you think, “Great, we’re back” and you feel “Weh-hey” and you can see all the buds and leaves growing. Neil: Mine’s ruled by hay fever. I had a hay fever injection this morning. I’m allergic to trees. The beginning of summer; although it’s all a bit sad because you think it’s going to end. And at the end of autumn, I love walking home at half-past-four and everyone’s got their lights on and they haven’t shut their curtains yet. It’s cold but you’re going to have a nice cup of tea when you get in.

ANIMAL Chris: Dog. I love dogs. I just find their faces so funny, they crack me up. They always look so happy when you’re all in the room together, it’s like “Ah, we’re all here.” Neil: Mine’s a dog as well. But I like guinea fowl. Chris: Because you can eat them? Neil: I had a load in my garden. The only thing is they make a bit of a mess, they shit everywhere, and they make a lot of noise. They’re not that favourite actually. But they look so funny because they have tiny little heads and these great big bodies. And they walk right round the garden, round the perimeter, and it takes them all day. They look like dowager duchesses.

FLOWER Chris: Well, the other day I bought a load of tulips. Neil: Tulips! That’s mine. That’s my answer. Chris: They’re such gorgeous colours. They are like a pink. Neil: I will buy, like, just white ones, and I like them crammed in one vase. I like arts and crafts furniture and the tulip is often a symbol in them because it’s a very beautiful shape.

COLOUR Neil: I don’t have a favourite colour. But I always buy everything black. Chris: I think the colour I would go for most would be blue. Neil: Blue for a boy. Chris: Although I do like wearing outrageous colours as well. Like cerise.

SMELL Neil: I think I am one of those people that likes the smell of wet grass in the morning. Chris: I used to love - I still like - the smell of the London Underground. Neil: When I first came to London I used to get the Northern Line to Kentish Town and recently I got the Northern Line and I thought, “God, It smells exactly the same.” It smells different from the Circle Line. And the Victoria Line still has a slightly new smell; when I first came to London it had just opened.

HOUSE YOU’VE LIVED IN Neil: I had a house in Rye in Sussex for ten years and in some ways I regret selling it. I sometimes think about it, and mentally walk around it. My bedroom had a bay window and you could see the harbour. Chris: I liked this bungalow that we all lived in when we were kids in Blackpool, and there was a big field opposite and a rose garden, and a bit round the back where we could play on this big tree.

POSITION TO SLEEP IN Neil: I sleep on my right side. Chris: I toss and turn a lot.

JOB BEFORE MUSIC Neil: Smash Hits. I was the Assistant Editor at Smash Hits in a great period of pop music, 82-85. Chris: I went from being a student to this. But I always had summer jobs in Blackpool, and I think the most fun one was being a ride operator on the Pleasure Beach. It was a bit - what was that film? Neil: That’ll Be The Day [1973 cult hit in which David Essex and Ringo Starr pick up girls on the dodgem cars]. Chris: It was all a bit like that [belly laugh].

FILM Chris: I can’t keep saying The Sound of Music. What else? Neil: John Waters? Chris: What are you going to say? Neil: I always say The Servant. Although actually it tails off, the last half hour is not very good. Chris: Actually, the last half hour of The Sound of Music’s not brilliant. Neil: There’s a very strong argument for The Sound of Music finishing at the wedding.

MOVIESTAR Neil: I very much like Marlene Dietrich. I like that icy glamour. The thing about Marlene Dietrich is that she’s not really that good-looking. Truly glamorous people are not normally beautiful. Jackie Kennedy is not beautiful - she’s funny-looking. Chris: I’d probably say James Dean. Neil: [Aghast] Do you like his films? Chris: That wasn’t the question. Didn’t say the films had to be any good.

DAYTIME SHOW Chris: I could run you through my viewing: I get up at nine o’clock to watch the papers being reviewed on The Wright Stuff, then I switch to This Morning. Then there is the joy of Loose Women. Then it’s Countdown, then maybe Neighbours and Home and Away. Neil: It’s a whole day’s work. Chris: I don’t like the cooking programmes, got no interest in them. Neil: I’m afraid I simply don’t watch the television. I live in Chelsea in a late-Georgian house and my television is in the basement. Chris: I’ve got a television in every room. [Laughs] I never want to be far from a telly.

THING YOU COOK YOURSELF Neil: Well. It used to be the notorious Neil Tennant grim stir-fry, which is brown rice, broccoli and soy sauce. That’s it. Surprisingly tasty. It’s all about the soy sauce. However, I now cook roast chicken. But to be perfectly honest, in London, when you live near Jenny Lo’s Tea House, There’s no reason to cook for yourself. The only reason I don’t have it every day is that it’s the same guy who delivers it and I get embarrassed. I always give him a massive tip. It always costs £15 and I give him £20. Chris: None of my dishes are favourite, or anything I like that much. They’re just functional, eating things. So maybe Penne Arrabbiata. I always cook the same things. I often get pre-prepared chicken pies from Marks & Spencer - they only take 30 minutes. I should really go the whole hog and get a microwave: dinner in six minutes. Neil: You love your chicken pies. Chris: Chicken pies. Chicken kievs. [Laughs] They do good breaded chicken. What I like is everything is ready to put in the pan, all washed and everything.

TIPPLE Neil: Red wine. I only drink red wine and champagne. Very occasionally I drink beer in Germany because it’s very good. And if I was in Russia I might have a vodka. Chris: I like all of them. Depending on the time of day. Sometimes there’s nothing better than an ice-cold beer, is there?

COMEDIAN Chris: Steve Coogan. I was really honoured - I went to see him recently at the Hammersmith Apollo and he made a very cruel joke involving the Pet Shop Boys and I was thrilled. Neil: Who’s Mr G, what’s his real name? Chris: Oh. Chris Lilley. Neil: Chris Lilley. Summer Heights High. My favourite character is - Chris: Ja’mie. Neil: Ja’mie! [They both laugh]

COLLABORATION Neil: Dusty, I think. I can’t believe it’s ten years since she died. And she’s now a genuine legend. Chris: Yeah. Dusty. I’d agree with that.

ITEM OF CLOTHING Chris: [Camping it up] Oh I never have anything to wear! I wear these Y3 trainers all the time because they are incredibly comfortable. If I like something I tend to wear it to death, until it has to be thrown out. Neil: I have a pair of boots that I like. Which are not these. I actually don’t like these very much. [Sticks out his foot over the coffee table and inspects it] I’m wearing these Yamamoto Dr Martens and I think they’re too clumpy. I made a decision at lunch not to wear them again. Chris: [Teasing] It’s good that they were really cheap then, isn’t it? Neil: These were 230 quid. Chris: [To me] Can you imagine? For a pair of Doc Martens! Neil: I’m going to take them to Durham and use them for walking in… Um. I’ve got a pair of Patrick Cox - when Patrick Cox was still Patrick Cox - boots that I wear all the time. But I’ve stopped wearing them recently because they have become part of my official outfit. I wore them at the BRITs, with that Gareth Pugh coat. I was wearing the Patrick Cox boots with the trousers tucked in and the stylist said it looked great so suddenly they went, “Hello, I’m now part of the Pet Shop Boys’ wardrobe, hands off me!”

SONG BY ANOTHER ARTIST Chris: Oh, That’s too big. Neil: I can’t think of any songs at all now, of course. Chris: Ain’t No Stopping Us Now by McFadden & Whitehead. That is my default position. Neil: My default song is I Don’t Want To Hear It Anymore by Dusty Springfield. Chris: [Jokes] Well, don’t listen to it then.

SONG Of YOURS [Long silence] Neil: It changes. I don’t think about it very much. We are writing this ballet. There’s a piece of music, the duet, but I can’t remember what we’ve called it. It’s Scene Six. Chris: Last night I was going through iTunes and I listened to The Survivors by us, which I thought was really good.

SIN Neil: They’ve all got something going for them… actually my least favourite is envy. Chris: Envy, lust are bad ones, because going through life being lustful is just obscenity. Sloth’s pretty good. [Laughs] Neil: You’re definitely more slothful, I’m more gluttony meets - what’s drunkenness called?

SAYING Neil: You can’t make chicken soup out of chicken shit. Chris: [Laughs] It’s Tom, our old producer [Tom Watkins was the Pet Shop Boys’ manager from 1985 to 89]. Neil: It’s completely stupid, it sums him up. We still say it though. Chris: We just tend to repeat people that we know’s catchphrases. We had another manager and she used to say, “Well, you’ve had a good go.” [Laughs] Old Mitch [Mitch Clark, 1998-2003]. She was “Upwards and onwards as well”

#this is ! v funnie #the typing n spacing is weird on this one but tumblr wouldn't let me change it so ugh i guess #the link to the thing is the title n also there was a cute bit at the start before the questions started but i didn't put that in here #but u can see that on theeee website i linked #psb #int #pet shop boys #neil tennant #chris lowe

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shieldagentnatasharomanoff · 2 years ago

Note

✉️ (for Wong or Cherry or one for each, or both?)

Dear Wong,

First of all, know that I am safe and well, as much as I can be.

It happened... Thanos won and we both know which part of the journey now begins. I don't know how long I have or how much time I got to spend, but I have to do that in my own reality.

I decided to close the gate to pose no danger to yours. I'm giving up magic and I ask that you don't come looking. No matter how sad Stephen gets or how much Cherry wants to.

We both know how to carry a hard burden and I know I can trust you. Keep them safe for me. Both of them.

I always knew this wouldn't last forever, but I consider you family. So if this is my last message know this:

I am greeatful for your honesty, for every lesson you taught me and every disagreement we had. You aren't just my teacher, you're my friend and my family. I have tremendously enjoyed to be your universes widow for a while.

Maybe conjure a cup of honeybush tea into the library for Stephen or put the radio on station five. He doesn't want to admit it but he likes the music they play. Maybe open a window in the kitchen so people stop and chat to Cherry who keeps her pies there to cool. She enjoys the company. But you know both of them so much better then I can.

Please look after my Strange for me... My silly bird. He will need people. I can feel that it gets harder and harder for him to stay in my reality. He knows what will happen. We don't talk about it but every visit grows more somber and I don't know which one will be the last. I know I'm asking a lot of you, but you are the one I trust with being Stephen's keeper should I not be there after we get to the other side of this adventure.

Consider this goodbye for now. I will miss you.

-Natasha

----------------------–--------

My Dearest Cherry,

All of them must feel incredibly unfair to you and I know you're wrecking your head to try and understand my actions. I'm sorry I pushed you away... After loosing a fight your universe has already lost... After... Everything.

I couldn't face you, non of you. I can't put your universe in anymore danger, especially with half of mine dieing. The energies produced.

I won't be coming over anymore. You already lost your Nattie... I think I understand how you felt now, because I am loosing my Cherry. The only one I ever really knew.

I found you, in my universe. You're happy, married, you have two cats and a dog. Cute little buggers. Your husband is nice. He works for Shield. You run your own bakery. Inside Stark Industries. Tony sings her praises up and down. Honestly, I think her baking can't hold a candle to yours...

(the ink is smudged by wet spots, softening the paper where tears had clearly fallen)

Do me a favor and tell Wong how you feel. I know you're scared but for the Vishanti's sake this life is so damn short. Take the chances you are given. Who knows if you have time until tomorrow... I don't know if I do.

I failed my universe... Another burden I have to bear... But I've grown good at baring things.

Please know that I love you! I love your friendship and your kindness and the way you wear all these colored pretty blouses I make fun of. You are beautiful Cherry Finola Holmes. Inside and out. Don't hide yourself away which is easier said then done and I know how it feels to be insecure. To bear visible memories you can never forget but want to shove away and hide. Your memories are too important to stay hidden , even the ugly ones.

If I may ask for one thing it's this: be happy.

And look after Wong and Stephen they need you! And if you find the time invite my Strange over for Scrabble. He enjoys that game a lot. Take him out for coffee. If he turns into a bird scratch the feathers on the left side of his neck just before they move on to the wings. He likes that best. He won't ever tell you but he is touch starved beyond belief. Just be casual about it so he doesn't get too embarrassed.

Know that you are loved, always.

-Nat

#after the blip happens #writing a goodbye letter meme

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pantryplanet65-blog · 5 years ago

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the season of the peach

Recipe: bourbon peach cobbler

If it feels like my posts are all about the puppy of late, you are not wrong. Even before we brought Yuki home, anyone could tell that our dogs play a large part in our lives. Now with two dogs, it is oddly more work and less work, simultaneously. But we learn what activities are manageable with this two-dog dynamic and what things we should probably rethink. SUPing with Yuki and Neva amounted to a Chinese fire drill, but the important thing is that they had a good time and no one was traumatized… much. Because Yuki is over 6 months old, we thought we would introduce her to running. It varies based on breed, size, and other factors, but dogs shouldn’t start running distance until they are a year old or 18 months old for large dogs, so that it doesn’t impede their joint and structural development. Jeremy leashed up both pups and went for a short half-mile run around the neighborhood (stopping to check mail and pick up poops) and Yuki LOVED it. We think she’ll get a kick out of skate skiing, backcountry skiing, and uphill skiing this winter! It’s fun to observe the difference between Neva’s elegant, efficient stride and Yuki’s floppy, bouncy, puppy romp.

a rare moment of neva sitting still on the standup paddleboards

yuki having a blast running with her pack

We were in Crested Butte last week and were careful not to embark on long or strenuous hikes due to the terrible air quality. The smoke from those big California wildfires kept streaming into our beautiful mountain air thanks to the atmosphere. But we still got out each day for training and adventures with our two goofballs. yuki’s first interpretation of the command “hop up!”

sitting nicely so she can jump down from the car and start hiking

sharing wild strawberries with my two girls (they love them)

We have experienced more smoky days than clear days on the Front Range and in Crested Butte this summer. It’s depressing on so many levels as it reduces a lot of our outdoor activities like big mountain hikes, long trail runs, or mountain bike rides. You can’t help but feel empathy and sadness for the folks devastated by the wildfires in other western states as well as Colorado. Early mornings tend to have slightly better air quality, so that’s when we are active. By mid morning, the smoke usually creeps in – obscuring the surrounding peaks and injecting an off odor into the air. It doesn’t smell like campfires. It smells like destruction.

I’ve been keeping indoors most afternoons to get work done. That means I have Colorado Public Radio (CPR) streaming over the speakers while I work. I am a public radio news junkie. One day I heard a little plug for the best peach cobbler recipe on CPR and went online in search of said recipe. It looked promising because it called for 12.5 ounces of bourbon. That’s my kind of cobbler. It’s peach season here in Colorado – our Palisade peaches are the best I’ve ever tasted. I figured peach cobbler would be a great way to take my mind off of the lousy smoke-filled air.

for the filling: bourbon, sugar, vanilla bean pod, peaches, lemon, cornstarch, salt

I don’t know very much about bourbon, but I do know enough not to use fancy drinking bourbon for most of my cooking endeavors. I buy large quantities of affordable bourbon for baking, marinades, and grilling. Since this bourbon gets simmered down with peaches and a lot of sugar, save your good bourbon for other occasions. Also, I used a 3-quart saucepan in the photos to cook my peaches, but in the future I will upgrade to a larger pot to avoid sloshing of syrupy peachy bourbony goodness on the stove. sliced and pitted peaches, split and scraped vanilla pod, zested and juiced lemon

adding the peaches to the sugar, lemon zest, lemon juice, and vanilla

pouring the bourbon

The recipe on the CPR website was a little irksome for many reasons. I can’t tell if it is because the chef who shared the recipe did a sloppy job of writing it down or CPR’s reporter doesn’t know how to write up a recipe or both. Certainly, no one bothered to proofread the recipe because “1 1/18 cups of milk”?? The recipe gives no mention of the lemon zest or juice in the method, so I added it to the peaches. I’ve written up the recipe as I interpreted it below.

Cook the peaches until they are tender, but not disintegrating. Mine were really ripe, and I handled them with great care to preserve their shapes. Strain the peaches and reserve that precious liquid because it’s going to become a delicious syrup. The peaches will continue to release juices over time. I let mine sit another 20 minutes while I was prepping other components and poured the excess liquid into the saucepan. This gets mixed with cornstarch and cooked into a syrupy consistency.

simmer until tender

strain out the juices

add cornstarch mixture to the juices

boil until syrupy

I mixed my batter right before I was ready to assemble the cobblers. I say cobblers because the original recipe instructions are for single serving cobblers, but I imagine it’s easy enough to put this into a 9 x 9-inch dish or a 10-inch cast iron skillet and making one large cobbler, allowing for additional baking time. sugar, milk, flour, baking powder, salt, butter

mix the sugar, flour, baking powder, and salt together

stir in the milk

mix until just combined

Another thing not given in the recipe was the size of the ramekin needed. If you look to the servings it says “six, 1-cup cobblers” which I took to mean each cobbler would fit in a 1-cup volume ramekin. I used two 8-ounce ramekins and four 9-ounce ramekins. What you need are vessels that are more than 8-ounces in volume. I think 9-ounces at a minimum. But I anticipated potential disaster and set all of my ramekins on a baking sheet lined with aluminum foil. I’m glad I did. My 8-ounce ramekins overflowed and the rest had some bubbling over of juices. The cobblers also took more than double the suggested amount of time to brown, so keep an eye on your cobblers as they bake the first time you try this. put a small pat of butter in each ramekin and heat in the oven until melted

ready with peaches, batter, and syrup

pour the batter over the peaches

baked

I have to admit that I was rather put out by the recipe, but in the end, it was all worth it. The combination of intensely fruity peaches nestled in this golden sweet cake, topped with homemade vanilla ice cream and a generous drizzle of bourbon peach syrup is a dessert slam-dunk. It parades the very essence of Colorado summer in a down-to-earth, humble presentation that will knock your socks off and then some. I’m making this for my mom’s birthday because she loves peaches and I know she will love this peach cobbler. pour the bourbon peach syrup

serve hot or warm

consume with gusto

Bourbon Peach Cobbler [print recipe] from Bin 707 via Colorado Public Radio

cobbler filling 3 lbs. ripe peaches, halved and pitted 1 1/3 cups granulated sugar 12.5 oz. bourbon (use a utilitarian bourbon, not a fancy drinking bourbon), divided (12 oz. and 0.5 oz.) 1 vanilla bean pod, split lengthwise, seeds scraped and reserved zest from 1 lemon 1 tbsp lemon juice 1 tbsp cornstarch pinch of salt

batter 1 1/8 cups cake flour 3/4 cups granulated sugar 1 tsp baking powder pinch of salt 1 1/8 cups whole milk 1 1/2 tbsps butter, cut into 6ths

Make the filling: Preheat oven to 350°F. Combine the peach halves, sugar, 12 ounces of bourbon, vanilla bean pod and seeds, lemon zest, and lemon juice over medium high heat in a large saucepan. Cook until the peaches are tender, but not disintegrating – about 10 minutes. Strain the peaches, reserving the liquid. Return the liquid to the pan over medium high heat. Mix the cornstarch with the remaining half ounce of bourbon and stir the mixture into the cooking juices. Cook for about 2 minutes or until the liquid has a syrupy consistency.

Make the batter: Whisk the cake flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt together in a medium bowl. Stir in the milk until the wet and dry ingredients are just combined. Set aside.

Bake the cobblers: Drop 1/4 tablespoon of butter into each of your six ramekins (make sure the capacity of your ramekin or vessel is more than 1 cup). Arrange the ramekins on a rimmed baking sheet lined with aluminum foil. Place the ramekins in the oven until the butter has melted and the vessels are hot. Remove from oven. Fill each ramekin with 1 cup of peaches (slice them if needed). Add any excess juice to the syrup. Pour 1/2 cup of the batter over the peaches. Bake 20 minutes (it took me 50 minutes) until the batter turns a golden brown and the fruit juices are bubbling. Remove from oven and cool slightly. Serve with vanilla ice cream and a generous drizzle of the bourbon peach syrup. Serves 6.

more goodness from the use real butter archives

bourbon peach hand pies

blueberry peach crisp

peach pie cinnamon rolls

peach fritters

August 13th, 2018: 7:03 pm filed under baking, booze, cake, dairy, dessert, entertaining, fruit, recipes, sweet

Source: http://userealbutter.com/2018/08/13/bourbon-peach-cobbler-recipe/

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kellyzeagman · 5 years ago

Text

Hello hello

In 2 days I will officially have 1 MONTH LEFT. 4 weeks sounds better, 30 days sounds even better. Two girls from my team leave tomorrow (the 5th). So happy for them to get to go home, but honestly it’s going to be really sad to see them go. We got really close. Sydney is from Halifax so perhaps our paths will cross again, but Vera lives all the way in Russia so who knows if we will ever meet again, I really hope we can. Two great girls gone at the same time. Also it’s a bit sad in the sense that them leaving makes everyone else want to leave as well. We are all jealous. Our team of 12 has stayed the same since October. No new people and no one has left. My boss and other co workers have said they have never had a group stay the same for so long, because on bigger ships and ships with different itineraries, teams change up all the time, even every 2 weeks. Some ships even have 30+ youth staff, whereas we just had a tight group of 12. So, this has been so great getting to know everyone for 4 months without changes. Two new girls from England will be coming on the 5th to replace them. It will be nice to meet new people and have a bit of change, but the two leaving will definitely be missed! I feel very lucky to have been a part of such a strong team that all gets along and works well together.

Anyways, I guess cruise ship life is filled with lots of quick hellos and goodbyes, only this time you don’t know if you’ll ever see them again. It’s going to be so weird when they leave, considering we all spend every waking minute together. Working, eating, going out, drinking, hanging out at ports, relaxing, etc.. you see them all day every day. I guess I’m just not used to people leaving yet whereas everyone else is. The 5th is our biggest turnaround day yet. 200 people signing off, and 200 people signing on. They also said it’s the biggest cruise so far in terms of provisions (loading on/off). Think of how much food and drink and other supplies will be needed for 2 weeks, crazy. When I say turnaround day, I’m referring to the day that all the people from the previous cruise leave, and a few hours hours later all the new people from the next cruise come one it’s QUITE the operation. I can’t believe people leave and come on all in a matter of hours. Last guests usually get off around 9:30, then people can start coming on around 10:30/11:30. Insane.

We have now completed our 3 day and 2 day cruises. Still seems like such a waste of man power/ resources/ fuel to have people on for this short of time. I thought it would have been a lot crazier, but it wasn’t too bad. The kids were definitely not the best behaved. Quick and cheap cruise= no cares. We now move onto our 2 week cruise. Thankfully, I think there’s only 300ish kids and half of them are teenagers. It should make for a more relaxing and less stressful time. However, the 2 week cruise is already starting off on a rough note and it doesn’t even start till tomorrow. Two of our ports (Lifou and Mare) are not letting any cruises stop for the time being because of the coronavirus. Purely just for their safety, if it ever reached these islands and spread, it would be so horrible because they have very little resources and medical care. So, it’s to protect them. For us though, we’ve had to change some things around.

Now because of the 2 cancelled ports, we had to add another port to the schedule and they’ve actually turned it into an overnight stay. Luganville, Vanuatu. It’s such a questionable place to have an overnight. Usually, overnights happen in European places where there’s a lot of stuff near the ship and great night life, where people can walk off and explore and party and then walk back on whenever. We have been to luganville one other time last minute because of a change in schedule and there’s really noooooothing there. It’s about a 15 minute walk to the “downtown” which is so incredibly poor and rundown. And not to be judgemental, but if anyone took that 15 minute walk at night during the overnight to go downtown for god knows what, I feel like it would be pretty dangerous. It will be interesting. There’s a lot of cool places/beaches to drive to during the day, but night time is gonna be a bit sketch. We shall see. I won’t be getting off at night. Guests probably aren’t going to be very happy, so hopefully they just decide to not come. ;) the kid count just got printed off and there will only be about 133 kids which is AMAZING. I’m sure they will still be just as loud and competitive as ever.

Aussie kids are a different breed. The sound of 6-11 year old boys screaming “YOU’RE OUT” during ball games will truly echo in my head until the day I die. It sounds more like “uuurrrrr aaauuutt”. It’s the most annoying thing in the world and happens constantly for 9 hours of my day almost every day. I really do think that they are very different than Canadian kids that I’ve worked/volunteered/interacted with. It will be interesting coming home to see how different they really are and compare. Lots of my friends are saying the Australian kids we’ve had this contract are the toughest kids they’ve ever had to deal with. They definitely aren’t as chill or laid back as I thought they would be. There’s also endless amounts of kids considered “special attention” meaning ADHD, anxiety etc.. again, people say more than any other countries they have done. Now that I’m finishing this up, I feel I can do anything. My Russian friend was part of the nursery staff. We all rotate age groups, but there’s 2 girls who spend 95% of their time in the nursery. Now that she’s gone, I am the one taking her spot in the nursery, as I’ve been the one spending most of the time in the nursery when one of the two girls are off. I’m excited because babies and toddlers are super cute. It’s stressful In different ways compared to the 3-11 year olds. You can have up to 8 babies in the nursery.

On turnaround day after the 3 day cruise I had the entire day off. This was probably going to be my last full day to explore Sydney, so I decided to do the hop on hop off bus tour. Of course, it was pouring rain. But rain never killed nobody so I still went. I brought a rain jacket and sat alone at the top with my hood on, still great. I only got off at bondi beach, where I spent about 3 or 4 hours. When I got there it was so incredibly cloudy, but it’s still quite the sight to see. First thing first I went to the nearest vegan joint where I could stuff my face. I went to a savoury vegan pie place, absolutely amazing. Got mashed potatoes, gravy, two pies and an Oreo milk shake. ALSO the cafes dog sat beside me the entire time I ate, which was SO nice because before this, I had only interacted with one dog in the last 4 months, which was a stray on the beach. This one was nice and clean and friendly and was so nice to actually pet and hangout with a dog. 2 dogs in 4 months for a brief amount of time is sad. It was everything I didn’t know I needed. I will think about that meal until I get to come home. The food situation on the ship is still so unfortunate for me, so any food that isn’t what I eat every day at the mess is amazing to me. If you want a bit of an idea, this is it. The ship hardly has any vegetarian options, let alone vegan. Every day they have a vegetarian table with 4 options. 98% of the time it is a creamy soup and some sort of casserole with cheese or cream, so can’t have either of those. The other 2 are almost always steamed cauliflower, or ratatouille. I’m done with both, I’ve had it too many times. Aside from that vegetarian specialty table, there’s some other things throughout the mess. I pretty much switch up between pasta, rice, salad, peanut butter sandwiches, roast potatoes, cereal and cucumbers every day. I’m reallllllyyyy over it. So I try and go crazy on food every time I get off in Sydney.

ANYWAYS- After lunch at bondi I walked to length of the beach watching the surfers while walking through the incredibly cold water. There’s a reason they all wore wet suits. The sand was soooo nice and soft, probably the nicest I’ve ever walked on. I had so much time there that I debated booking a surfing lesson but had no bathing suit or towel. I will definitely come back to do it one day in my life!! The area of Bondi itself is so hip and laid back. Everyone is SO beautiful and I felt out of place as I was soaking wet like a drenched rat in my raincoat while they were all in their surf and beach attire. It was probably the coolest place I’ve ever been in the sense of atmosphere and vibes. I didn’t feel cool enough to be there, especially alone hahaha. Loads of backpackers and tourists. Tons of surf shops, souvenirs stores and cafes/restaurants. I imagine it is a very prestigious place to live and super expensive. The views/locations around bondi have to be some of the best/most expensive in the world. I would love to spend a few days there to truly soak in the atmosphere, though I did pretty much everything in under 4 hours. Love you Bondi!!

Hmm what else to say. That girl who I said was coming from China and gonna be confined for 2 weeks isn’t coming anymore because they aren’t sending Chinese people anymore. However, they did end up sending back the same captain that we had during the Asian season and he is from China. He is confined to his room for 2 weeks, but his room is enormous and has all the bells and whistles, so I don’t feel too bad. OH, I finally have a new roommate, I don’t remember if I said this last time. Solo living has officially come to an end. She’s from Indonesia and works for housekeeping. She’s very quiet but has worked on ships before, she looks to be around my age. We work opposite shifts most times. She usually works during the night while I’m sleeping, and she sleeps during the day while I work. It’s been good, but I definitely miss having my own room, though I still kind of feel like I do because we hardly see each other.

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condorbill36-blog · 6 years ago

Text

the season of the peach

Recipe: bourbon peach cobbler

a rare moment of neva sitting still on the standup paddleboards

yuki having a blast running with her pack

sitting nicely so she can jump down from the car and start hiking

sharing wild strawberries with my two girls (they love them)

for the filling: bourbon, sugar, vanilla bean pod, peaches, lemon, cornstarch, salt

adding the peaches to the sugar, lemon zest, lemon juice, and vanilla

pouring the bourbon

simmer until tender

strain out the juices

add cornstarch mixture to the juices

boil until syrupy

mix the sugar, flour, baking powder, and salt together

stir in the milk

mix until just combined

ready with peaches, batter, and syrup

pour the batter over the peaches

baked

serve hot or warm

consume with gusto

Bourbon Peach Cobbler [print recipe] from Bin 707 via Colorado Public Radio

batter 1 1/8 cups cake flour 3/4 cups granulated sugar 1 tsp baking powder pinch of salt 1 1/8 cups whole milk 1 1/2 tbsps butter, cut into 6ths

Make the batter: Whisk the cake flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt together in a medium bowl. Stir in the milk until the wet and dry ingredients are just combined. Set aside.

more goodness from the use real butter archives

bourbon peach hand pies blueberry peach crisp peach pie cinnamon rolls peach fritters

August 13th, 2018: 7:03 pm filed under baking, booze, cake, dairy, dessert, entertaining, fruit, recipes, sweet

Source: http://userealbutter.com/2018/08/13/bourbon-peach-cobbler-recipe/

0 notes