#and well we bought the pastries because we suck at baking

[creepyjirachi]

had fancy tea for dinner today. everybody cope and seethe

[rainybubbles]

How COD men say the first "I love you"

Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Rudy, Keegan

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

-

for more context (you don't need it to read) : here how you met them

P R I C E

-He confessed with Gaz covered by whipped cream.

-Let me explain.

-After your first meeting based on a pregnant Shrek cake to his base and a misunderstanding, John became a regular of your bakery.

-So obviously for confessing his love, he thought of baking a cake.

-During the afternoon on the base, he tried to bake.

-Yes, he could have bought a cake with "I love you” on it. But John liked doing this on his own when it came to gifts.

-He liked the old-fashioned way of doing gifts himself.

-However, as the dough turned an unexpected purple hue, he wisely sought the expertise of Soap, a proficient pastry enthusiast.

-"Cap...your dough is..." Soap hesitated, unsure of how honest he could be.

-"Horrible, you can say it, son," John acknowledged.

-"I just wonder how you managed to make it turn purple?"

-"I used beetroot."

-"For a cake?"

-"Sugar is derived from beetroot."

-"Yeah, but in a Paris-Brest, you don't have beetroot."

-"...how can I fix this?"

-"Well, call Gaz. By three, we could finish the pastry in time," Soap suggested with a knowing smile.

-The collaborative baking commenced, yet Soap overlooked a crucial detail—Gaz sucked as much as Price when it came to bake.

- Entrusted with the delicate task of preparing the crème au beurre, Gaz inadvertently neglected to secure the mixer's lid.

-Chaos ensued as the cream erupted, spilling on the surroundings.

-Soap tried to stop it, but he slipped on the floor.

-Gaz couldn't see because of the cream, and John was looking at them reconsidering his life's chouce.

-Obviously, you decided to come back home at this moment.

-Yo were greeted by the sight of Gaz adorned in whipped cream, Johnny sprawled on the flour-strewn floor, and John enveloped in a cloud of flour.

-"I...is this a kinky food party, or did I miss something? Because usually, people are naked when they use whipped cream," you quipped.

-"I can explain, love," John offered.

-"Okay, what happened?"

-"I wanted to bake for you."

-"You know I don't need cakes or pastries; that's my job. If I crave a sweet tooth, I have plenty of cakes, honey."

-"I know, but this one was special. It was supposed to be a heart-shaped Paris-Brest."

-"Paris-Brest aren't heart-shaped."

-"Not when they're not employed for confessions."

-A moment of realization dawned upon you.

-"Fuck, you...you wanted to say 'I love you.'"

-"Yeah, but it's clear I messed up."

-"No, no. I mean, sure, Gaz covered in whipped cream, Johnny on the flour, and walls adorned with flour was not what I pictured, but it's perfect."

-"Good because I don't plan to cover Garrick in whipped cream every time I want to say it."

-A shared chuckle ensued as you joined Gaz and Soap in the aftermath, each contributing to the cleanup while John beamed with contentment.

G A Z :

-He confessed with a vocal.

-After your meeting and your teasing when you found out Gaz listened to your spicy ASMR as a streamer, you noticed him.

-He was a regular, one of the fans who always leave a comment under each post.

-He became more than just a familiar username.

-Your bond deepened as you sought his counsel on scenarios for your streams and videos, a virtual confidant in the ever-expanding realm of online content creation.

-As time unfolded, your relationship transcended the digital realm.

-The spark between you two ignited, an intangible force that fueled your creative musings.

-Swiftly, meetings materialized whenever Gaz found a fleeting moment of respite from his duties.

-When he was on long deployments, you sent him exclusivity audios so he could be distracted from the horror he did or saw, offering a temporary escape from the grim realities he faced.

-Your voice became a comforting melody, a beacon in the darkness, ensuring that Gaz could find solace even amid the harrowing experiences he encountered. 

- In fact you could record yourself spelling a list of grocery and he would find it awesome

-Yet, despite the kisses shared and the intimate moments experienced, Gaz had yet to formally ask you out or declare those three potent words: "I love you."

-One night, as a gentle breeze whispered through the window, he turned to his friend Soap for advice, a hint of embarrassment lingering in his tone.

-"Hey, mate, can I ask for advice?" he queried, his eyes seeking guidance from Soap.

-"Sure," Soap responded, welcoming the opportunity to lend an ear.

-"How... would you confess to someone you've been flirting with for months?" Gaz inquired, his apprehension palpable.

-"Tell them," Soap replied matter-of-factly.

-"No shit, I wanted something special. They're... they're awesome, and I really want to make the thing memorable, you know?"

-Soap smirked, teasing Gaz.

-A playful shoulder bump ensued as Gaz protested, "Shut up, mate. I just... I feel like they're the right person, you know? I mean, they saw me during my lowest moments, and for people like us, it's hard sometimes to find those who can handle a lover with PTSD."

-"Yeah, I feel that," Soap acknowledged. "Well, maybe use your first meeting or something they love. If they're into soccer, bring them to a big match and confess during it."

-"But, you know, during a match, everyone screams? It's kinda dumb."

-Soap paused.

-Gaz looked at him.

-"Well, it sounded like a good idea at that time."

-Gaz's eyes widened. "Wait, you did that?"

-"Listen, it seemed like a good idea."

-"Oh my gosh, what happened?"

-"She didn't understand what I said and answered, 'You're such a good friend.'"

-"Damn."

-"But it doesn't mean it'll be the same for you."

-"I know. I just think about things they love. I... can't confess by ASMR, honestly. It'll be cringe."

-"Maybe send an audio? No need for ASMR," Soap suggested.

-"Yeah," Gaz agreed.

-As Gaz found himself in his room, armed with his phone and ready to send a heartfelt audio message, he hesitated.

-The recorded voice sounded foreign and awkward to him, far from the eloquence he envisioned.

-Discouraged, he abandoned the attempt.

- Upon his return from deployment, sensing your unusual behavior, he confronted you about it.

-"You... sent me a vocal, but it only said 'Fuck you,' so I didn't know if I did something or not," you confessed, puzzled by the unexpected message.

-Gaz paused, the realization dawning upon him. He had forgotten to delete a frustrated attempt at confessing that slipped through the cracks.

-"No, it was not against you. I... I tried to do something, but I messed up. So I was mad at myself, and at the same time, I was recording a vocal for you," he admitted, vulnerability coloring his words.

-"Can I ask what was this thing?" you inquired, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

-"I... gear. I couldn't take off my gear," he lied, attempting to divert the conversation.

-"You're a bad liar," you chuckled.

-"Okay, I wanted to confess to you. And I tried to record something like you do, but it sounded horrible."

-"You know you could have texted?" you suggested with a playful smile.

-"Yes, I... I didn't think about it. I was so focused on voices and the perfect confession."

-"I reciprocate, if you ever wonder," you reassured him.

-A smile broke across Gaz's face as he squeezed your hands, grateful for the understanding that transcended words.

S O A P :

-He confessed by drawings.

-After drawing you like Gollum because you flustered him, Soap, determined to prove his artistic prowess, pursued every opportunity to capture your essence on paper.

- Despite attending each modeling session and receiving your compliments, he couldn't quite capture the nuances—those wrinkles when you smiled, the sparkle when you ate, the delicate mole that graced your visage.

-Unyielding, he embarked on a mission of his own, drawing you ceaselessly between military duties, on the pages of his diary, and during leaves.

-Training, a familiar concept to a soldier, became his artistic discipline.

-You willingly played muse.

-The drawing sessions evolving into intimate conversations, forging a connection that extended beyond artistry.

-As your bond deepened, so did Soap's frustration.

- The elusive perfection he sought in his drawings continued to elude him, and he longed to express his feelings through his sketches.

- One day, returning to your darkened apartment, you discovered a trail of candles illuminating your path.

- Recognizing Soap's expertise with fire and explosives, you followed the flickering lights until the room burst into brightness.

-There, on the wall, an intricately arranged collection of sketches painted a portrait of your shared moments—coffee spills, date nights, and more.

-Overwhelmed by the domestic warmth of the scene, you couldn't help but murmur, "Shit, it's so cute."

-"I hope so, because I love you, baby. I want these sketches to continue, to wake up to you every morning, to draw you, to see you, to kiss you," Johnny confessed, closing the distance between you.

-A tender embrace and a heartfelt kiss followed. "I love you too."

-"Good, because it would have been hard if you said you hate me after I spent five hours gluing these sketches," Soap admitted, a playful smile gracing his face.

-Laughter filled the room, echoing the joy of two hearts entwined in love.

G H O S T :

-He confessed with a monkey wrench.

-You were tired.

-The life of a mechanic on the base demanded a toll, and today, that toll felt almost unbearable.

- Fatigue etched lines on your face as you toiled among the clattering tools, your hands weaving intricate dances of repair.

- The camaraderie with your coworkers, usually a source of solace, had soured into an unbearable weight on your shoulders.

-Amidst the clinks and clanks, a sudden snap echoed through the air, drawing attention like an unwelcome spotlight.

-Your favorite monkey wrench, a faithful companion in countless repairs, lay shattered in your hands.

-A surge of frustration coursed through you, and against all reason, tears welled in your eyes.

- It was an odd vulnerability, shedding tears over a broken tool, but the accumulation of stress had reached a breaking point.

-Then, there he was—Simon, the enigmatic connection born from his bad driving skills and your repairing of his vehicles.

- Your eyes met, and the vulnerability you felt intensified.

-"Don't pity me, please," you whispered, a plea tinged with embarrassment.

-"I don't pity you, love," Simon responded, his voice a balm to your wounded spirit.

- He knelt beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of the workshop.

-"I... I must look ridiculous?" you stammered, seeking reassurance.

-"No, you look quite stunning crying on the dirty floor with a broken monkey wrench," he teased, a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

- Your tears mingled with laughter, a cathartic release in the midst of chaos.

-"Yeah?" you asked, a hint of uncertainty lingering.

-"Yeah," he affirmed, his gaze sincere.

 -"Then Soap is the most stunning with his mohawk full of mud."

-"Hm, he can't beat you with your grease on the cheek," Simon remarked, using his gloved hand to wipe away a smudge.

-A quiet settled between you, broken only by the sound of tools and distant chatter.

-Simon extended his hands, a silent offer of support, and you accepted, rising from the dirt-strewn floor.

-"Thanks for... being here," you said, gratitude coloring your words.

-"I'm not always here, love," Simon admitted, a touch of vulnerability in his gaze.

-"But you're here when it counts, Simon. That's all that matters to me," you confessed, and with those words, you retreated to the solitude of your barracks.

-As you left, Simon watched you, and in that moment, an unfamiliar warmth enveloped him.

- It was the realization that he was enough—enough to be there for you, enough to be loved.

-The following day, a surprise awaited you in the form of a brand-new monkey wrench.

-A note accompanied it, bearing Simon's distinctive scrawl: "I hope to buy you more in the future."

- A subtle promise, a declaration beyond words.

- You smiled, for you understood—it was more than a tool.

-It was the promise of a connection that transcended the clangor of the workshop, a sentiment that spoke of a desire for something deeper. And for you, that was more than enough.

K E E G A N :

-He confessed with Happy Meals.

-After all, it was how you met. Keegan ordered 20 happy meals, and you were a worker for McDonalds.

-( Even though you began to write an essay about how happy meals and military men seem to be an issue)

- Keegan and you became close.

-Since you saw him each night during his leave after your shift.

-At first, it was because some teenagers were here, threatening the employees after their shift, so Keegan proposed his help.

-And after that, driving you back home became a routine when he was on leave.

-And when one night you decided to ask him to drop you somewhere else, and it ended up being a restaurant, he realized you were asking a date subtly.

-Slowly, it became flirtatious.

-Even though you still didn't know how he could flirt when you were covered in grease-smelling potatoes.

-But Keegan had rizz even at 1 AM.

-He could say the more cheesy lines while you're covered in cheddar and coke.

-That's why he wanted to confess in a cool way, the same way, his flirt could make you smile through the worst shift.

-At first, he thought of a Happy meal where the toy could be a letter saying "I love you" with a selfie of you two.

-But he wanted something fun, as fun as when Ghost ordered 40 Happy Meals just to have all the skeleton toys.

-So during one of his missions, he used his phone and ordered food for your flat.

-Surprised, you opened the door to the delivery guy, saying you hadn't ordered anything. But you noticed it had your name on it.

-You sighed and took the bags.

-The 4 bags.

-Which surprised you because, hell, you won't eat all of that.

-And then you opened the bag to see happy meals.

-20 happy meals. Like Keegan used to order.

-You chuckled.

-It was a good prank.

-You sent him a text.

-"Okay, good one, I'll take revenge, I swear"

-But then you notice the Happy Meal is empty.

-Except for one who had a little toy.

-A heart toy.

-You squeezed it like it said on it

-And the little toy spoke with a horrible voice. "I love you".

-The cheesy smile you had when you realized it.

-"fuck, you got rizz even miles away, uh ?"you texted.

- "of course" he answered.

-"well, Mr Rizz, I can't send you Happy Meals, but I love you too."

-"thanks, love"

R U D Y :

-He confessed with books. 

-After meeting Rudy in the library and realizing he was one of the few readers following your books. You ended up meeting with him when he was on leave so he could be your beta reader.

-He was a good help, he was not always saying "good", he had good remarks and ideas.

-He was the one bringing coffee during your late writing sessions.

-Even when duty called him away on missions, he sent texts 

-Texts traversed the ether, connecting your worlds despite the miles that separated you.

-In response, handwritten letters, carefully penned with the knowledge of his penchant for tangible memories, sailed back to him, becoming anchors of shared moments in his turbulent sea of duty.

-Thanks to his comments and ratings on sites, you slowly became more famous as an author, and you now live by it.

-Yet one day when you were writing, you were searching for one of the books you wanted to inspire your fight scene for, but...

-"I didn't order my library like that," you whispered.

-Your books, usually standing sentinel in perfect alignment, bore witness to an intrusion—an inexplicable disorder. 

-But you had this habit of putting in order books in a certain way. But it seemed someone messed it up.

-And it would be so strange for a stalker to just break into someone's house in order to...mess up their library ?

-What kind of shitty villain could do that ?

-You sighed.

 -The only one who could come in  your flat is Rudy, and it couldn't be Rudy since the guy was kind of obsessive with it too.

-Not a soldier for nothing, after all, being clean is part of it. 

-His library was impressive, he even gave advice to his local library about archives.

-So slowly, you pulled out one book, in order to put it back where it was supposed to be.

-You sighed, knowing it would take your night to do all the books.

-Until you noticed it.

-The letters.

-The first letters of each title were aligned.

-You stepped back, and you rode it.

-"I love you"

-You bite your lips and smiled.

-'Fucking idiot", you whispered, and you sent him a selfie with you and the books aligned.

-"Me too." you had texted.

-"I had thought you would never find it."

-"What do you mean ?"

-"It's been six months, it's like that."

-"What, no"

-"si."

-"Fuck, you-"

-"I thought you didn't want to address it before I realized you just haven't seen it."

-"I'm so sorry; fuck, you must have been stressed."

-"Not really"

-False. He cried to Alejandro one month after he did it, and you didn't answer. But you would never know that.

-"Well, now you know it's reciprocated."

-"Thanks, love"

-"Have a good night, honey".

He smiled. It'll definitely be a good night, now he knows you said I love you.

If you want more : my COD masterlist

And my whole masterlist

[munchcorner]

Pastries (SakuAtsu)

Atsumu's a lonely baker who spends most of his time baking. It was his way of coping for when his parents had passed from old age and his brother, Osamu, had gotten married and started a family. He used to be surrounded by so many people he loved, but as time passes and they grew older, their time for each other became limited, leaving Atsumu feeling a little lonely. So, he builds his own bakery to keep him busy and fill his loneliness by interacting with his customers.

Atsumu had fun talking to various people. He's met students who buy his sweets as their reward for themselves for their hard work at school. He's met children who loved his cookies because they looked adorable. He's met lonely adults like him who think that life is boring and is a constant misery. He's met people who were enjoying life. He's met people who are in love and are content with their lives. But the most memorable one was the man with black curly hair and dark emerald eyes.

He was a man who looked like he who saw the world in monochrome. One where he just goes with the flow of life. Even his voice was monotonous when Atsumu strikes a conversation.

"You don't seem like someone who would enjoy cookies shaped like characters," Atsumu comments as he puts the cookies in a box.

"Well, they're not for me. They're for my daughter," The man answers, making Atsumu go, "oh,"

"Yeah, so how much?" The man asks as he pulls his wallet out of his pocket.

"That'll be 4867.52 yen," Atsumu answers and hands the man the box of cookies.

The man pays for it, and just as he turns around to leave, his phone starts to ring, and the man's face immediately lights up at the sight of the name flashing on the screen.

Atsumu wanted to ask if it was his daughter, but he didn't want to be intrusive, so he presses his lips together and remains quiet.

The man answers the call, and Atsumu could hear his daughter's voice, excitedly screaming, "did you buy them?! Did you buy it?! Please tell me you bought them! Please! Please! Please!"

The man chuckles as he pulls on the door, "Yeah, I have it, don't worry,"

Atsumu watched as the man walk away. He places his hands on the counter and softly smiles all to himself, "I wonder what it's like to have someone who looks forward to seeing you come home?"

The loneliness Atsumu had been feeling comes back after that little encounter, but it became stronger when he got home. He immediately dialed Osamu's number, hoping that maybe he's free, but he ends up sighing when he was directly sent to voicemail.

Atsumu doesn't leave a message and just ends the call before going to bed.

The next day comes, and the curly-haired man he met yesterday comes to buy a different set of pastries from him.

"So, did your daughter like it?" Atsumu asks as he packages the cupcakes the man just bought.

"She loved it," The man answers shortly, but unlike before, now he has this small little smile on his lips as he answers.

Atsumu hums in delight and gives the man the cookies, "I'm glad to hear that,"

A month passes with the man buying different types of pastries from him. They'd have small conversations from time to time, and as the days turn to months, they slowly started talking about more personal stuff.

Atsumu finally learned what the man's name was after three months of constantly talking to each other. His name's Sakusa Kiyoomi, a dashing name just like the person itself, but aside from Kiyoomi, he also learned his daughter's name, Sakusa Sayomi.

"Sayomi said she wanted to meet you," Kiyoomi says as he watches Atsumu put the cake in a velvet box.

"Oh, is that so?" Atsumu asks and puts a ribbon on the box.

"Yeah, if that's alright with you," Kiyoomi says as he takes the box and takes out his wallet to pay for the cake, "it's fine if you're not okay with it,"

"Are you kidding me? I'd love to meet her! I'm actually amazed that it took you three months to bring her here because you talk about her a lot," Atsumu says with a chuckle.

Kiyoomi puffs his cheeks and looks at his feet in embarrassment.

Adorable. Atsumu thinks.

"Do I really talk that much?" Kiyoomi asks, his cheeks flushed red and his fingers pulling on his slacks.

"Yeah," Atsumu answers, "so, when can I meet her?"

"What about tomorrow? Is that a good time?" Kiyoomi asks.

"Yeah, I'm cool with that,"

And with that, they finally bid their goodbyes.

The next day arrives, and Kiyoomi enters the bakery with an eight-year-old child holding his hand. She had this huge smile on her face as she enters, and her eyes immediately brightened up when she saw the pastries.

"Daddy! Look at the Kirara-designed cake!" Sayomi beams and pulls Kiyoomi to the cakes.

Atsumu chuckles as he watches Sayomi pull Kiyoomi around. She was like a bouncing ray of sunshine, and Atsumu couldn't help but wonder what it'll be like if he had a daughter.

Kiyoomi and Sayomi roamed the bakery jumping from one pastry to another until Kiyoomi finally pulls Sayomi to Atsumu, "Sayomi, this is Atsumu, the man who makes all the pastries you eat every day,"

Sayomi's eyes shine, and she lets go of Kiyoomi to run to Atsumu and hold his hands, "this hands,"

"What about them?" Atsumu asks and crouches down to be on the same level as her.

"I'm thankful for them because they make me my favorite treats," She answers and smiles at Atsumu.

"What about me? You're not thankful for me?" Atsumu asks and points at himself with a pout.

Sayomi chuckles and pulls Atsumu into a hug which surprises him, "of course, I'm most thankful for you because you make my treats and make daddy happy,"

Atsumu didn't expect what he heard, and so did Kiyoomi because when Atsumu raises his head to look at Kiyoomi, his eyes were wide, and his cheeks were flushed.

"How do I make your daddy happy?" Atsumu asks without breaking eye contact with Kiyoomi.

"By talking to him, silly. You see, daddy had been very sad lately, but ever since he started buying treats from you, he comes home happier," Sayomi says and pulls away, "that's why I wanted to meet you, Atsumu-san,"

Atsumu doesn't know how to respond properly, so he ruffles her hair and says, "I'm glad I can make your daddy happy,"

The rest of the day proceeds, with Atsumu, Kiyoomi, and Sayomi sharing a meal they prepared in the kitchen. It was already late when they finished talking, and Atsumu didn't want them to leave eating nothing but pastries, so he offers to cook them. But he didn't expect them to help.

The kitchen was too small for all three of them, but it was fun nonetheless. Atsumu found out that Kiyoomi cooks for them, but his knowledge in cookies was limited to a few kinds of pasta, ramen, and a few dishes. So, Atsumu decided to cook something Kiyoomi didn't know how to prepare so he and Sayomi could learn.

That night Sayomi and Kiyoomi leave with some leftovers from their dinner.

"Thanks for the meal, Atsumu," Kiyoomi says shyly while Sayomi waits in the car.

"it's nothing. I had fun," Atsumu says.

The atmosphere around them turned a bit awkward after what Sayomi said about Atsumu making Kiyoomi happy. But the awkward silence didn't last when Kiyoomi said, "Why don't we go out next time? All three of us,"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" Atsumu asks, and Kiyoomi nods, "my invitation sucks, but I'm hoping you'd say yes,"

Atsumu laughs and takes a step towards Kiyoomi, "I'd love that," he whispers and kisses Kiyoomi's cheek.

Atsumu steps away and sees Kiyoomi staring at the ground with his cheeks flushed, "oh, Omi-kun, that was just a kiss on the cheek,"

"Shut up!" Kiyoomi says and turns away, "anyway, I'll come by tomorrow to pick you up,"

"Sounds good to me. See you tomorrow, Omi-kun," Atsumu says with a smile.

"See you tomorrow, Atsumu,"

The next day arrives, and Kiyoomi does pick Atsumu up with Sayomi. The date was fun, and it made Atsumu feel like they were a family. That one date alone was enough to make Atsumu feel happy and less lonely. But that loneliness stopped coming when Kiyoomi constantly asked him out on dates.

Every month, Kiyoomi would ask Atsumu out on a date. Sometimes, they'd bring Sayomi with them. Sometimes, it'll just be them. The dates were fun, and it made Atsumu feel happy and full. Kiyoomi and Sayomi shooed away the loneliness Atsumu had been feeling ever since his adulthood.

But sometimes, Atsumu would wonder how long it'll last.

The day came when Kiyoomi stopped visiting the bakery. Atsumu thought maybe Kiyoomi was just busy. But the text messages became lesser with each passing day until all Atsumu receives are good mornings and goodnights. It scared Atsumu that maybe Kiyoomi was over it. That Atsumu didn't make Kiyoomi happy anymore.

But after three weeks of Kiyoomi being cold, he asks Atsumu to meet him at their favorite restaurant. This made Atsumu think, "ah, he's finally breaking up with me," and despite the pain in his chest, Atsumu goes to visit him.

Atsumu arrives, thinking this would be the last time he'd ever meet Kiyoomi and Sayomi again. So, he was surprised when the lights opened, and all he saw were Kiyoomi and Sayomi standing in the middle.

"Kiyoomi, what's happening?" Atsumu asks, but Kiyoomi didn't answer. Instead, their families came out, each holding a letter to form the sentence, "will you marry me, Atsumu?"

Atsumu was stunned, and he didn't know what to do. He ended up staring at the words in front of him until Kiyoomi walks up to him and takes his hand before kneeling down.

"Everything might seem too fast to you. We've only been dating for a year, and yet here I am on my knees, asking you to marry me," Kiyoomi starts and kisses Atsumu's hand with quivering lips, "but you make me and Sayomi so happy that I think this is the only way for all three of us to be happy together for the rest of our lives,"

Atsumu's tears start to fall as he waits for Kiyoomi to continue.

"It's so bold of me to assume that we give you the same happiness you give us, but you just seem to smile brighter when you're with us. So, I'm taking this risk and asking you to marry me, Atsumu," Kiyoomi ends and raises his head to look at Atsumu.

"You idiot, who acts so cold to their significant other when they're about to propose, huh?" Atsumu asks and jokingly kicks Kiyoomi's knee, "you suck at this. You should've been sweeter, not cold,"

Kiyoomi chuckles, "I'm sorry,"

"I would've said yes if you weren't so cold, you know," Atsumu says, making Kiyoomi panic.

"So, are you saying no?" Kiyoomi asks and gulps.

"I'm thinking about it," Atsumu jokes.

But Sayomi seemed to have taken it seriously because she runs to Atsumu, clings on his pants, and says, "please, don't say no, Atsumu. I really want you to be my papa,"

Sayomi had tears in her eyes as she said it and made Atsumu's heart clench.

"I was just joking, Sayomi. I'd love to be part of your family. It's just that you're dad is terrible at this," Atsumu says after kneeling down and hugging Sayomi.

Atsumu can hear the sigh of relief Kiyoomi had put out and laughs before turning to Kiyoomi, "you're lucky Sayomi's here to make up for your coldness,"

Kiyoomi rolls his eyes at Atsumu's words, "right like you didn't want to marry me in the first place,"

"Why are you suddenly so cocky?" Atsumu asks in disbelief, "it's because you already said yes,"

Kiyoomi smirks at him and takes his right hand to put the ring on his finger and placing a kiss on it, "thank you for saying yes, Atsumu,"

Atsumu smiles, "No, I'm glad you asked me to marry,"

And ever since then, Atsumu didn't have to wonder what it'll be like to have someone waiting for you at home because now he comes home to his husband and their daughter.

--*--

I also have this posted on Twitter.

[writers-hes]

Fucking Harry | Summer Feeling Challenge

Hi, guys! How are you? I’m finally back with an all new fic called ‘Fucking Harry’. This is an entry to @helladirections​ ‘s Summer Feeling Challenge. I hope you enjoy!

word count: 2884  masterlist + if you love me come clean masterlist  be a part of my taglist!  SUMMER FEELING MASTERLIST (over 40+ fics about summer. angst, fluff, and smut!!!) SUMMARY: You were back in the same place where you last fell in love, alone again. You prayed to God that he was here. Chanting his name multiple times under your breath until he appears right beside you—but you knew that no magic in the universe will do that for you. You were born unlucky, after all.  Story Theme: Theme Parks unedited

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It’s that time of the year again. You knew, because suddenly, the upcoming summer started to be gloomy. You hated summer more than you hated anything. Everybody was off to go to their country clubs, get summer jobs, go on trips with friends, fall in love…ick. Summer love? That doesn’t last anyway. Once summer is over, the person you fell in love with leaves you alone and gives you nothing else. Even if they were your friend at first. You agreed that you’ll be friends first and then lovers. Who could blame you two anyway? You were both lonely that summer. All your friends were away while you were stuck in Italy.

Fucking Italy.

You both agreed that there was something about Italy. It’s romantic. He kissed you just like how the sun kissed your skin. He made love to you in the private confines of his home there…and in the beach, in the yacht, well, he basically made love to you everywhere. You hung onto him like a necklace. Love marks littered his body and he showed it off to everyone—wearing polos with the buttons intentionally stopping right under his swallows or not wearing anything at all. You believed his words like a gospel and everything he said seemed like a prayer. That was him for you and perhaps all of the boys and the girls adoring him in everything that he did.

Now, you were back in the same place where you last fell in love, alone again. You prayed to God that he was here. Chanting his name multiple times under your breath until he appears right beside you—but you knew that no magic in the universe will do that for you. You were born unlucky, after all.

“Harry, Harry, Harry…fucking Harry,” you groaned, annoyed. Italy is just associated with Harry and it was fucking annoying. Why did you come to Italy in the first place? It’s unlike you to go back to a place associated with bad memories—the reason why you never went back to your hometown. But then again, you saw that there was a seat sale on some airline and that your boss told you to go take a break because you’ve been working non-stop since that wretched summer happened. You shook your head, an attempt to get rid of the guy inside your mind. So you walk, head on, in the streets of Florence where you fantasised the tow of you roaming around Cinque Terre, a city that overlooked the ocean. You remembered that Cinque Terre was a sight in itself. The city was adorned with hues of blue, yellow, red, and pink buildings. It had five towns and it was secluded from other cities. It was a nice life where you can buy pastries and greet the baker. Everybody knew everyone and Harry Styles was very well-known.

To be completely honest, you didn’t know how Harry Styles managed to stay in your mind for two years. You can still remember the rasps and the moans when you had sex—an ear-worm that haunted you to this very day. Still, you couldn’t help but smile when you took a trip to the theme park. A place where you and him considered solacing. It was loud in there, the mechanics of the rides replaying inside your head, little Italian children and international tourists asking their mothers to get them a toy.

Perhaps you could visit the theme park alone this time. You knew that it was open at this season. Everyone’s there and it’s summer. You stopped a small bakery to get some bread for lunch. You and Harry went to this place, around noon, to get a croissant sandwich that Harry raved about. You also remembered how much he liked their focaccia flowers. You entered, the smell of coffee and freshly baked bread enveloping your senses. You were giddy—they served the best bread in the world. You walked to the counter, smiling at the same baker that greeted you two years ago.

“Ciao, bella!” the man greeted.

“Hi. May I get a ham and cheese croissant sandwich and Caffe Latte?” you asked him, remembering your order from the last time you went here.

“Cosa certa,” he said, listing your orders on a notepad. “For who?”

“Y/N,” you replied, opening your wallet to retrieve your card. The barista nodded as you paid for the food.

“Grazie,” he said. “My boy will call your name and you can get your food,”

“Grazie,” you replied, walking away from the man and his cheeriness. You sat down on a chair where you can view the busy streets outside. You sighed sadly. The last time, you were the couple sitting a couple of tables from you—enveloped in each other’s hands, unaware of the prying eyes.

———

“Ah, fuck!” you exclaimed once you were inside your hotel room, exhausted from the wishful thinking and the walking. You walked towards the balcony and sighed, opting to open a bottle of wine from the mini bar. Getting wine drunk in Florence, Italy doesn’t seem like a bad idea.

Or maybe it was because the next day, you opened your emails. Hungover, you looked to see that you had an e-ticket to the theme park. Then, you remembered that in a courageous rush, you bought one in hopes of seeing the man with green eyes again. So in a haste, you were up and dressed, a plastic cup of coffee in your hands, in a cab to the amusement park. You watched the panoramic view outside your video and you wondered how a love like yours and Harry’s ended like it did. It was sad, really. He just left and in harsher terms, he ghosted you once you landed back in America. Fucking Harry.

You sighed, for the nth time—ready to just combust and call Harry. But you can’t, so you just chanted his name again, until it was time for you to enter the gates of the theme park. You looked at it, it was all the same. All the fucking same and you were reliving everything alone. You walked around the theme park and it was gigantic. There were trees that shaded the walkways and families taking photos of their children. You smiled at the sight, love and joy radiating the place but for some reason, you can’t be bothered. You were alone in a sea of people bonding and it just sucked. You sat inside one of the cafes in the theme park and got yourself his favourite Americano. What else is there anyway? He made you a godforsaken mess—an idiotic fool. You were busy looking through your phone, chanting his name under your breath when a pair of black Old Skool Vans appeared on your line of sight. You looked up and there he was, looking at you, his mouth agape. He seemed to be alone too and you were there too, speechless how he found his way to you. Perhaps all your chanting was true and the universe wanted you to meet again.

“Y/N?” he breathed, pulling the chair in front of you, a Caffe Latte in his hand. “How have you been? What brings you to Italy? Why are you here?”

“Hold on,” you replied, still in shock at the wonder in front of you. Harry was here. He was here and he was real because the way that he was looking at you right now was the same way he looked at you before. “Harry…how are you here?”

“I asked first,” he said, seeing the Americano in your hand and how you were still in sync with him because he got you your favourite.

“I took a break from work and saw that there was a seat sale going here so I decided to stay here. Yeah,” you nodded, awkward.

“I drove here from London. I stopped by France and I decided to go to Italy too,” he replied, clearing his throat. “How have you been?”

“Been better,” you admitted. “I mean, it’s Italy,”

“Yeah, I feel the same,” he replied. “Y/N, love. We’re here in Italy, in an amusement park. Do you want to try out some rides and just forget for a little while?”

“What do we do?” you asked.

“Just…relive Italy together even just for this day,” he said. “I do need a hand to hold onto in the roller coaster,” he said, extending his hand. It was true. He was a little bit of a scaredy cat in some rides and you were the hand that he held onto when he needed reassurance that everything will be okay. You thought about it. It would be nice to spend Italy with someone.

“Alright but we're not talking about what happened last time, okay?,” you nodded and he beamed.

“Alright,”

———

“Are you sure you want to ride the roller coaster?” you asked him. You were in a queue and were close to the entry gates. Harry was shaking like a flower.

“Relive it, right?” he said, forcing a smile. “I want to, Y/N,” I want to hold your hand again, he thought. There was absolutely no way for him to ride on this goddamn roller coaster but  you liked how free it made you feel. The ups, and downs, and the spikes made you feel liberated. It made you feel something and you liked how your hair flew everywhere. He didn’t want to ride the death trap but if it meant seeing you smile genuinely and holding your hand when he’s scared, then he wouldn’t mind a little sacrifice. You smiled at him, excited.

“I promise, after we finish the ride, you can lean on me if your legs wobble,” you teased and Harry laughed. He might take you up on that offer.

“You’re so mean to me,” he pouted but smiling anyway as he saw you chuckle. “Will you treat me to a nice scoop of gelato after? I was thinking...pistachio or cherry,”

“Alright,” you said, nodding. The queue to the rollercoaster became shorter and shorter and you were bouncing on your feet in anticipation while Harry bounced for the opposite reason. Soon, you were inside the little carts, waiting for the operator to finish setting up everybody.

“You want me to hold your hand, Harry?” you asked, opening your palm for him to squeeze.

“Yes, please,” he nodded, gulping thickly. “You know how queasy I get sometimes,” he chuckled nervously, wiping his sweaty hand on his blue denim before encasing your hand with his. “I’m sorry if my hands get sweaty,”

“It’s alright. Thank you for coming with me to ride it anyway,” feeling nauseous at the familiarity of the scene unfolding before you. Harry’s leg bouncing, his hand and yours, the sweat on your forehead from the heat, and the love that you felt for him. You wanted to scream at him, push him, and ask him what the fuck happened between the two of you. The way that he’s looking at you right now, through the facade of his anxiety, was love and you knew that.

“May we please remind you to keep your seatbelts on, be seated, and most of all, enjoy the ride,” a woman spoke, triggering the machine to pull back slightly and slowly riding up the small bump, before speeding down to the ground.

Harry was hysterical beside you, screaming while closing his eyes in fear. His grip on your palm became tighter and you smiled, screaming at the top of your lungs. The frustration, anger, sadness, and hurt all coming out and nobody cared. This was freedom. You screamed some more until your lungs gave out.

“Fuck!” you heard the man beside you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,”

“It’s okay, Harry!” you screamed in return. “We’re about to land,” you added, seeing that you were about to enter the station again. The coaster slowed down, stopping at its designated spot. You looked at Harry, who was red. You were pretty sure that there were tear stains on his cheeks but you ignored them.

“Thank you for riding our famous roller coaster. We hope to see you again,”

“Hope my ass. You will never see me set foot on this shit again,” Harry muttered under his breath, making you laugh. The safety locks on your chairs are lifted and you lead him to the exit. He was heaving, and had wobbly legs.

“You okay?” you asked. “I’m sorry if I had to make you go through that. We can try on other rides if you want to,” you offered.

“No, no more rides, please. Just wanna sit and play carnival games later. With the big toys, you know?” Harry said, rushing on the first bench that he sees. It actually takes a while before Harry calms down again. He laid on the bench for what seemed like an hour, bottles of water on his stomach that it makes you wonder if it was alright to just tell him to go home and leave things at that. You were about to speak when Harry interrupted you.

“Y/N,” he called. “Do you...maybe want to leave this place and have dinner with me?”

“Harry...I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you replied. “Only here, remember? After this, I have to go back to my hotel and you back to where you’re from,”

“Please, Y/N...I have so many things to tell you,” he said, sitting up so you could sit beside him. You didn’t, opting to stay on the bench beside where he was. The distance was frustrating Harry but he respected your boundaries. “Well, I’ll say it here then,”

You nodded, uneasy. Harry sounded serious and solemn in what’s supposed to be a happy place.

“I’m sorry I left,” he started, making you gasp at his bluntness. “I really am. Look, the last time I went here was with you and it was the best trip that I have ever had. I knew that it was something that I would cherish for the rest of my life but--”

“Why did you leave me?” you asked, facing him. “Do you know how I felt when you left? When we landed back, you changed.  You just left and I couldn’t call or text you. I received text messages from you thrice a month and that was you being generous,” you told him, newfound courage surging through your bloodstream.

“I was scared,” he admitted, making you chuckle pathetically.

“What about me? Wasn’t I scared too? It’s been two years. You can’t just decide to pop in anytime you want and leave when it’s convenient. Did you even mean it when you said that you loved me?” you asked, defeated. People started to notice the fight that broke out with you two and they started to recognise who Harry was. You noticed too so you stood up. Harry trailed behind you until you stopped at a more private part of the park.

“You know I love you, petal,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I told you to never doubt that, right? I love you still, Y/N and I’m sorry,”

“Harry--why are you here? Why did you insist on reliving what we had two years ago?” you asked, desperately trying. He was hiding and you were sure of it but he didn’t budge, shrugging.

“I’m sorry. I don’t--don’t know why I did what I did and then doing what I’m doing now. You know I’m not a man of regrets but I’ve been feeling so alone and lonely and I miss you.I love you I really do but that night, when we landed...I realised how Italy can only happen in Italy.There’s so many people prying on my business and I don’t know how they’ll react,”

“You’re ashamed of me,” you concluded, nodding at his confession. Harry was rendered speechless. It wasn’t as if he was ashamed. He was scared of how the public will react when you’re revealed to the world. “You’re fucking ashamed of me because I’m not like you?” you ask him, and Harry could feel the venom dripping from your words. “I--I can’t do this,” you exclaimed, tears on your cheeks. You laughed pathetically at yourself, straightening your back and walking. Harry was Harry so he grabbed you by the arm, ready to apologise and admit his mistake but you snatched your arm away from his grasp.

“Don’t,” you seethed. “Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t talk to me, don’t think of me. Leave me the fuck alone, Harry. I swear to God,” you warned, walking away from the boy who broke your heart for the second time. Harry was slumped over, his figure becoming smaller and smaller in the Italian sunset and you sobbed, leaving your heart with the man who took it.

You were hoping for a change but now, you were back in the same place where you last fell in love, alone again. You prayed to God that he was following you. Calling out your name multiple times above the crowd that was starting to appear until he appears right beside you—but you knew that no magic in the universe will do that for you. You were born unlucky, after all.

“Harry, Harry....fucking Harry,”

-- sorry if you thought it was smut... :) 

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[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch42: Maybe Baby Part 2- Between The Toaster And The Fridge

Intro: Steve comes home to a very, special welcome…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut! (NSFW) No under 18s. Teeth rotting fluff…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N- More thanks to @angrybirdcr​

Chapter 42 Part 1​

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The recruits around Steve were laughing, and he had to smile himself. He’d just told them the story about how he had managed to get a flag down from the top of a pole once when he was training, right before he go the serum. He’d taken the pins out of the bottom of the pole causing it to crash to the floor where as everyone else had tried to climb it, including Gilmore Hodge. God, what a prick he had been.

“So, the moral of the story is just because it’s the path of least resistance, it doesn’t mean it’s the wrong path.” Steve looked around at the assembled team, smiling to himself as he repeated the words Natasha had once said to him, words he hadn’t agreed with in that circumstance but here, well, they fit.  “Consider each task on its own merit. Decide what your end goal is and then look for the simplest, safest and least strenuous way to achieve it. Conserve your energy for when there’s no other option open to you because that’s the time that you’ll truly need it.”

With that he nodded to Rhodey and moved to the side of the room, folding his arms across his broad chest as he looked at the assembled trainees. They seemed like a good bunch this lot, receptive to his advice and teaching which was an improvement on the lot he’d had a month or so back in Colorado. They’d been a nightmare and when they were awkward it made being away from his girls so much more of a chore. At least when they were like this, it made him feel like it was worthwhile. He took a few more questions, gave a bit more advice before they called it for the day and he headed back to his room to make sure he was packed, ready to head home the next afternoon. It had been three weeks this time, and whilst he’d spoken to Katie and Emmy every night it still didn’t make him feel any better at being away from them, even though he knew it was part and parcel of his job. 

It also wasn’t helping their baby-making plans either.

His phone was vibrating in his pocket and he smiled when he saw who it was. Flopping down on the bed he beamed at Katie.

“Hey sweetheart.”

“Hey handsome.” she smiled, yawning slightly

“What you been up to?”

“Been busy with this Half Way Home proposal.

“How’s it going?”

“Good, Pepper’s giving it the once over before we send it into the Senate. I don’t think they’ll have an issue, I mean we’re not asking for funding but with them behind us it means the sale should go through easier.”

“Sounds like you have it all planned.” He smiled “Bet Natasha is pleased.” “Hmmm” Katie frowned. “She’s flown off again this evening.”

He groaned “Johannesburg?”

“Yeah.” she shrugged “She won’t give up. Says she owes it to Clint to try.”

“She’s on a hiding to nothing.” Steve sighed “I don’t know what she thinks she can do.” “Who knows, but if it makes her feel better who are we to argue. We’d do the same in her position.” And Steve had nothing else he could say on the matter, as he knew she was right. He had done the same, pretty much.

“Can’t want to get home tomorrow.” he changed the subject, smiling. “Three weeks apart isn’t exactly helpful on the whole trying-not-trying front is it?”

“Not really no.” Katie gave a soft laugh

Steve grinned cheekily “Every time I’ve jacked off in the shower I’ve had this horrible, guilty feeling that I could be washing a little me down the-“ “Oh my God!” Katie snorted as Steve laughed loudly, his right hand flying to his chest “You’re disgusting!”

“You love it!” he smirked, and she sighed and looked at him.

“I love you.” she said simply, and he could do nothing but grin stupidly back at the screen.

“Hi Jen!” Katie greeted as she walked up to the coffee counter, Emmy walking behind it like she owned the place, casually heading into the back to find Brooke.

“Hi!” Jen turned to her, “Usual?” “Erm, to be honest with you coffee isn’t what I’m after today.” she said “Had a disgusting hangover yesterday that I’m still recovering from so can I get a tea and one of those Danishes please?”

Jenifer chortled, “Take a seat I’ll bring it over and join you for a bit.” Katie smiled, paid for her drink and food and headed over to the comfy sofas by the window. Sinking into the well-worn leather she pulled out her phone and flicked through a few emails, pleased to see Pepper had proof read their proposal and made a few minor tweaks. She had just fired it off to her secretary to make the changes and forward on when Jennifer sat opposite her, pushing her food and drink over the table. Katie was that hungry she wolfed the pastry down in about four bits, before leaning back, wiping her fingers with a napkin.

“I think sugar and carbs maybe the way forward today” she laughed “I feel better already.”

“Why is it the older you get, the longer hangovers last?” the woman asked and Katie shrugged.

“Gone are the days I could sink shot after shot and still make it out unscathed.” she rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her tea appreciatively “Being an adult sucks.” She spent a few hours at the coffee shop, leaving Emmy there after Jennifer had assured her it was ok for her to stay, before heading into the city to find Steve a gift. This year, four, was either fruit, flowers, linen or silk. Which was a random combination when you thought about it. But she found a really nice grey linen blazer that would suit Steve, and smirking to herself, bought a silk slip that she could wear to bed. Always nice to keep him on his toes as she had said last year.

She picked Emmy up and then stopped on the way home to fuel up the Camero, As she leaned against the side of the car, watching the numbers tick over on the pump, the smell of gasoline filled her nostrils, almost choking her and she was overcome with a wave of nausea and vomited straight onto the floor.

“Fucks sake.” she groaned, as she managed to compose herself, waiting for the feeling to subside. Thankfully Emmy was too engrossed in something on her phone to notice. Eventually, her stomach stopped flipping and she finished, paid and headed back to the Compound, wondering if she was coming down with a bug. But then, as she walked down the corridor with her bags the strong stench of bleach from one of the labs made her once again feel the need to hurl.  

Something clicked in her mind and she paused, suddenly feeling very hot.

“Hey.” Bruce looked at her as he appeared from the lab. “You alright? You look a bit pale.” “Yeah, fine.” she nodded, swallowing “Just remembered, I forgot to grab something. Emmy, can you take these up to the apartment and go straight to Nat? Bruce do you mind just…”

“No, course not.” He smiled, “In fact, I have something to show you Em. Remember that research I was doing into the…”

Katie didn’t stay to hear the rest, Emmy wandered off after Bruce chatting away, whilst she turned back the way she had come and hurried back to the car. 

***** Steve walked back into the apartment and was greeted by a whirl of sandy fur before Katie appeared hurriedly crossing the hallway to throw herself into his arms.

“Missed you.” He smiled, as he bent to give her a kiss.

“I missed you too.” she pouted, her hands fisting into his light blue button down “Three weeks is far too long, I don’t like it.” “I know, sorry baby.” he smiled “Where’s Emmy?”

“Nat’s” Katie said as she turned and headed back to the kitchen “I know it isn’t our anniversary until tomorrow but I wanted get you all to myself right away.”

“Yeah? Got something in mind?” He grinned, wrapping his arms around her from behind, nipping at her neck before he rest his chin on her shoulder.

“Yeah, feeding you.” she chuckled as his stomach gave a loud rumble “Hungry?” “I’m always hungry.” he pouted, his arms still wrapped tightly round her “Doesn’t help that whatever you’ve been baking smells so good.”

“Saffron buns.” She smiled and Steve let out a groan off delight as his stomach rumbled again “And seeing as you’re so keen to get your hands on one, can you get them out of the oven?” she nodded towards it and twisted away from his hold “I’m almost done with the rest of the food.”

Grumbling slightly at the loss of her warmth against his chest, he straightened up and pulled the metal and glass door open before he frowned. A single bun sat on the tray in the middle of the large oven. What was that about?

“Honey, what…” He turned to look at Katie who was stood behind him, biting her lip. He frowned, before he turned back to the bun in the…

Oh. Oh!

Steve spun round that fast he nearly fell over. Katie smiled at him, her eyes shining at the look of surprise on his handsome face.

“You’re - um. You - you’re…?” Steve couldn’t quite form his words. Katie smiled, as he swallowed hard “Katie…”

“Yeah. Although I think the correct term might be ‘we.’” 

“Sweetheart you…” he looked at his wife, not quite able to believe what she was saying “We’re, really having a baby?” “Yeah.” She nodded, sniffing slightly as she reached for him then with both hands, cupping his face in her fingers. “We are. You’re gonna be a daddy, Steve.”

“Shit!” He exclaimed with a laugh “I’m gonna be a daddy!” with that he pulled her into his arms and swung her up in the air, the same way he had done when she’d agreed to marry him, causing her to laugh before he gently brought her down again, her arms sliding around his neck as he set her on her feet, pressing another kiss to her lips.

“How far gone, do you know?” He asked, pulling back an inch. “Not sure. It can’t be that far but I have an appointment with the ob-gyn tomorrow morning. I wanted to make sure everything was okay after, you know…”

Steve glanced down at her stomach and moved his hand towards it, pausing.

“You don’t have to ask.” Katie smiled softly, taking his hand in hers and guiding it onto her stomach. Steve took a deep breath as his fingers splayed out gently across her belly under her palm, his face shining with pure unadulterated emotion as his eyes stayed focused on his hand.

He had never felt so happy or so alive in his life.

*****

A tiny blip. Nothing more than what looked like static brought tears to both their eyes as Dr Kellet pointed to the image.

“Well, Mrs Rogers” she smiled “from this I estimate you’re roughly eight weeks pregnant.” “Eight weeks?” Steve asked, as he did the maths in his head. Eight weeks took them back to the fourth of July, his birthday…

Katie grinned to herself as she felt Steve’s arms slide around her waist and his lips gently brushing on her neck, his stubble scratching at her skin.

“I’m trying to cook you lunch here.” she sighed as his hand worked beneath the waistband of her denim shorts. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers skated into her underwear.

“Want me to stop?” he asked as her head fell back against his shoulder and she bit her lip.

“Didn’t say that.” she muttered as his fingers slipped further into her folds, finding her spot. His other hand slipped up her vest top and splayed on her stomach, pulling her back into him further and she let out a soft squeak as he slipped one finger into her. He continued to work her, she was putty in his hands and eventually when he knew she was close he moved and spun her round, pulling her to him, his arousal pressing into her as he kissed her, hard, his hands cupping her cheeks as he backed her into the wall. Her hands strayed down to the buckle of his belt and she quickly undid it, wasting no time as she slipped her hand into his boxers, grasping him hard. He bucked at the touch and let out a hiss.

“Easy soldier.” she grinned into his mouth as he let out a groan, his hands dropping to her shorts. In a flash she was out of them and her underwear and he lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist, back pressed against the kitchen wall.

“Shut up.” he mumbled, kissing her hard and she laughed into his mouth, a laugh that turned into a gasp as he pushed into her with no warning at all.

“Gonna fuck a baby into you doll.” He growled and her head rolled back, banging slightly on the light yellow painted wall. “Say that again.” she moaned.

He punctuated each word with a hard thrust “I’m…gonna…fuck…a…baby…into…you…” he purred, one hand resting by her head on the wall, the other snaking under her top and pulling down the cups of her bra. He rolled each nipple in turn between his thumb and forefinger leaving her grinding down against him for more friction as she kissed him again, hard, her gasps coming thick and fast as he rutted up, his hips snapping back and forth in a fast and deep rhythm. Steve let out a groan, his tongue sliding against hers sending the familiar red hot pokers of desire straight to his belly. His wife still managed to turn him on as much as the first time they’d ever been intimate together, despite there being what felt like a life time of ups and downs since then. If anything he was convinced that’s what made it better. He knew her body as well as he knew his own, every curve, every dip, every scar, blemish freckle and she knew his, each and every single inch of his skin, his limbs. Her hands grasped at his back, sliding up his t-shirt, nails raking down his skin, the stinging sensation causing him to grunt again as his rhythm picked up slightly, gaining momentum as he could feel himself going. “Come on, baby.” He muttered, his forehead pressed against hers “Wanna see you let go.”

“Stevie.” Her voice was a whisper, as her eyes fluttered closed for a second and he felt her thighs tighten around him, her mouth falling slack for a moment as her head tilted back. He moved the hand that was against the wall to her neck, holding her head in place and when her eyes opened again, those beautiful green orbs locked onto his she gave a low, sultry moan and he felt her walls tighten around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He mumbled as the strands in his stomach began to tighten “I love you, so much.” and with a final few snaps of his hips he came with a loud moan, his head falling to her shoulder, lips latching onto her neck as he thrust through his orgasm, before he stilled, both of them catching their breath.

Their baby had been conceived between the toaster and the fridge.

“So from that you’re estimated due date is the ninth April…” Dr Kellet smiled, tapping at something on her computer and then turning to gently wipe off the gel she had placed on Katie’s stomach. “So, do you have any questions?”

Of course Steve did. He spent a full thirty minutes drilling the woman about all the types of things Katie could and couldn’t do. Dr Kellet smiled, before she answered all of them, and some he hadn’t asked, in particular one about how sex was fine up until the birth if Katie was comfortable, warning him in fact that many pregnant women felt a spike in their libido in their second trimester. This caused Steve to flush and Katie to silently snigger.

“And lastly, I do hate to warn you about this as well but the term morning sickness, its bullshit. Should be called All Day Sickness”

“Tell me about it” Katie rolled her eyes. “Smells are the worst trigger.”

“Yeah, that’s very common.” the Dr Smiled “The good news is it should die down, if not go completely by about twenty weeks, but just keep yourself hydrated and rest up to avoid fatigue.”

“Thanks.” Katie smiled at her, “I’ll bear it in mind.”

As they walked back to the car, Steve’s arm curled round Katie’s shoulder and he pulled her closer, dropping a kiss onto her head. She smiled to herself, leaning into his touch as he gripped the scan photo they had been given with his other hand.

“I still can’t quite believe it.” He shook his head, reaching into his pocket for the car keys. “I know.” Katie’s voice was little more than a whisper. Steve turned to face her, his hands linking at the bottom of her spine “I can’t wait to tell everyone.” “We’re not telling everyone until twelve weeks is up.” she said, shaking her head “Bar Tony, Natasha, and Emmy.”

“Now?” He grinned, and Katie laughed as she snaked her arms round his neck.

“So impatient, Captain Badass.” She grinned as she leaned up to kiss him. “But yeah, let’s pay Tony a visit!”

Steve spent the entire forty-five minute journey grinning like an idiot, chatting about plans for nurseries and all sorts of stuff, he was incandescently excited. Katie simply let him go on, his happiness was infectious although she did at one point have to get him to pull over so she could vomit out of the passenger door.

Steve was out of the car like a shot and round to the other side, crouching down, his hand gently stroking Katie’s flushed cheek.

“You okay?” He asked, his face concerned as she reached for the bottle of water that was in the cup holder.

“Get used to this.” She groaned, laying her head back against the head rest.

As they walked up the driveway to the porch, Pepper spotted them immediately from where she was sat on a chair on the grass, Morgan happily led on her tummy on the tartan blanket. She greeted them as they approached and Morgan let out a loud shriek at the sound of their voices.

“Moo, you’ve gotten so big!” Steve smiled as he swept her up and she beamed back at him.

“Well you haven’t seen her in a few weeks.” Pepper chuckled, as Steve gently pulled faces at the infant, causing her to give him a huge smile. “They grow fast.” “You’re not kidding.” Steve mused and Katie smiled, unable to stop her heart blooming at the thought that he would be doing that soon enough with their own baby.

“Hey guys.” Tony smiled, walking out of the house and dropping onto a seat next to Pepper. “Not that it’s not nice to see you but we weren’t expecting you.” “Yeah, well, we err, have some news that we kinda wanted to tell you in person.” Katie glanced up at Steve as he gently placed Morgan back on the blanket and Katie sat on the wicker couch opposite her brother and Pepper, Steve perching on the arm next to her.

Pepper twigged immediately, smiling at Katie who grinned back.

“What’s the matter?” Tony frowned, “Are you sick? Is something wrong with the business?”

“Oh come on Tony, isn’t it obvious?” Pepper looked at him

“Errr no.” he frowned. “What-” he looked at his sister “-what’s supposed to be obvious?”

Katie glanced at Steve who gave her a grin before he turned and looked at his brother-in-law.

“You’re gonna be an uncle, Tony!” he smiled, dropping an arm round Katie’s shoulders.

Tony stared for a minute and then slapped his knees triumphantly, a huge grin breaking across his face. “You’re kidding me! Really? Really?” He leaned forward, intently scrutinizing Katie’s midsection until she tossed a throw pillow at his head. He dodged it, looked at her for a moment before he jumped up and swept her into an enormous hug. She stood up to greet him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Kiddo, that’s, wow, it’s awesome!” He spluttered.

“Thanks Tony.” She sniffed, stepping back as her brother reached up and cupped her face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Guys, congratulations.” Pepper gave Steve a hug and then turned to Katie when Tony had finally released her, giving the younger woman a squeeze.  

“Wow, Baby America - you gonna dress him in star spangled diapers?” Tony paused, faltering, as he was shaking Steve’s hand. “Or her, or maybe one of each?”

“One of each?” Steve frowned.

“It isn’t twins.” Katie rolled her eyes

“You gonna find out what it is?” Pepper asked.

“I dunno we haven’t discussed it.”

“Wait, they can find out?” Steve frowned “They can find out what it is before it’s born?” Tony looked at Steve “Remind me how long you’ve been defrosted?”

“Tony.” Pepper warned him before she turned to Steve “Yes, Steve they can.” “But you guys didn’t?” He frowned. “We didn’t want to know.”  Tony shrugged, dropping a kiss onto the side of Pepper’s head before he clapped his hands together. “This causes for a celebration, only not you young lady.” He pointed at Katie and she rolled her eyes “Yes, beers.” he continued chunnering away to himself, heading back to the house.

“You two okay to watch Morgan?” Pepper asked gesturing to where Morgan lay on her back, legs wriggling furiously “Just keep an eye on her, anything she can get hold of she’s sticking in her mouth…”

The two of them nodded and sank back into the chairs and Steve dropped a kiss to Katie’s head, his arm curling round her shoulders as she snuggled into him, kicking off her shoes so she could swing her feet up onto the cushion besides her.

“Happy?” He asked.

“Ridiculously” she responded, giving him a soft kiss.

***** Later that night they broke their happy news to Emmy, only she didn’t react the way they had expected.

“So,” she looked down at her hands as her fingers twisted around one another, the way they always did when she was worried, “does this mean I need to pack my bags?” “What?” Katie frowned, “Why would us having a baby mean you need to pack your bags?” “Coz, well, you’ll have your own kid now.” she shrugged “Not like you’ll want me around.” Steve and Katie shared a look and Steve shook his head, dropping to his knees in front of the girl as Katie sat on the arm of the chair she was in.

“Of course we want you around.” Steve looked at the girl “Emmy, you’re part of our family now, and all this means is that our family is getting a bit bigger.”

Emmy looked up at Steve, her eyes shining with tears, before she looked at Katie, and melted into her arms as the woman gave her a hug.

“You have a home with us for as long as you want.” Katie pulled back, smiling “And besides,” she winked, “you’ll be our chief babysitter.”

Later that night, when she was getting changed for bed, Steve couldn’t help but just watch Katie as she moved around the bedroom in her sleep shorts and bra. The fact she was growing his baby just made her all the more beautiful to him, and when he couldn’t stand not touching her anymore, he threw his legs off the bed and moved to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder into the mirror as she finished cleaning her teeth. One hand came to rest on her hip, while his other hand slipped down, palm spread protectively over her bare abdomen as he pressed tender kisses to her cheek and throat.

"I love you,” he whispered softly against her ear.

She leaned back against him, looking at the two - no, three of them in the mirror, her husband’s head bowed against hers, their child beneath his hand.

For once he fell asleep before Katie, and as she lay there, gently stroking the back of his neck she couldn’t help the immense happiness that overwhelmed her. Things were about to change, again, for them. But this time, it was a change they both welcomed.

**** Chapter 43

**Original Posting**

[curlynerd]

Happy Birthday Dean

Dean yawned as he padded down the bunker hallway in socked feet. He wished that was a sign of impending sleep, but unfortunately insomnia plagued him tonight. He hoped a glass of milk and a small snack would help him along.

But the kitchen light was on, and he could hear someone moving around in there. He frowned. Sam went to bed hours ago. Cas too, since he needed his beauty rest now that he was human. Jack was almost certainly engrossed in his newest Minecraft addiction.

So Dean tensed. He thought about going back to his room for a gun, but he knew it was almost certainly one of the other men, probably also searching for a midnight snack. Still, he crept as quietly as he could and peered around the corner, just to be safe.

It was only Cas, standing with his back turned to Dean, an unholy mess on the counter in front of him, hunched over watching something on his phone.

Dean relaxed and smiled. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?” he said as he swaggered into the kitchen. Cas jumped, sending a canister of spices toppling over and spilling on the counter and across his apron. Correction, Dean’s apron. Dean’s grin widened.

“Dean!” Cas whirled around and clutched the counter behind him with his arms spread as wide as possible, like he could block the entire thing with his body. Dean raised an eyebrow. Suspicious. “What are you doing up?”

“A guy can’t grab a bite from his own kitchen?” Dean advanced on him, and Cas pressed up against the counter. Definitely trying to hide something. “Whatcha got going on over here, Julia Child?” Dean tried to lean around Cas, who tilted right there alongside him, but Dean could see flour, butter, brown sugar, and a big bag of apples.

“I’m just making a snack,” Cas huffed. His irritated sulk did nothing to cover up the unmistakable suspicion of his body language, nor the panicked flicker in his bright blue eyes.

“Mighty involved snack for two in the morning,” Dean remarked, undaunted. He kept dancing around Cas until Cas had no choice but to either let him see or shove him away. Cas chose the former, though he rolled his eyes spectacularly. There was a large lump of...well something. It was limp and soggy and had large, visible lumps of butter dotted throughout the flour mess. “Baking?”

Cas folded his arms. His black sleeping shirt was a mess of flour. His dark hair was dusted with white too. Dean bit his lip to fight down his own grin at how tragic and adorable he looked. “I can’t tell you.”

Well that caught Dean’s attention. “Why not?” he challenged, staring Cas down. 

Cas squinted at him and turned his lips down in his own very serious version of a pout. “It’ll ruin the surprise.”

Dean blinked. “Surprise? What--” And then he remembered what tomorrow was. “This for my birthday?”

Cas let out a beleaguered sigh. “You weren’t supposed to find out until morning.”

Warmth spread through Dean’s chest. Cas was baking something for him? He tried to squash down the tickling joy and chuckled. “Cas, buddy, I hate to break it to you, but that’s the worst attempt at a cake I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s going to be pie,” Cas said, his deep voice even heavier than usual with petulant remorse.

“Pie?” Now Dean was interested. He looked down at the pastry blob on the counter. “That’s never going to bake right.”

“Yes. Thank you. I was able to deduce that myself.” Cas turned back to his disaster. “I was trying to find a video to help fix it.”

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. “I think you might have to scrap it and start over.”

Cas shook his head. “Nonsense. I just need to cut in more flour. The YouTube video says so.”

“You gonna trust some mommy blogger over me?”

“Absolutely.”

Ten minutes of bickering and one triumphant “I told you so” from Cas later, and their mostly correct-looking pastry dough was chilling in the fridge. Somehow Dean also wound up with flour all over his chest and pajama bottoms. Cas tried to give him his apron back, but Dean insisted he keep it on. Any opinions on how silly and domestic Cas looked in an apron were wisely kept to himself.

Dean clapped his hands together. A tiny puff cloud of flour ghosted around them. “Alright. Step one done. What next? The apples?” He patted Cas’ shoulder and grinned at the white handprint he left behind. “You peel, I’ll start measuring out the other ingredients.” Dean flashed his most innocent smile, feeling pretty smug that he’d pawned off the least desirable task on Cas. Cas eyed him for only a second, suspicious, before he went to work.

Dean first focused on wiping up the mess of cinnamon Cas had made when Dean came in and startled him. Once that was done he chanced a glance to Cas, who was mangling the hell out of his apple with the paring knife. Dean tisked at him. “Man, what’re you doing? You’re gonna peel off your own skin!” Dean reached over and yanked the knife from Cas’ hand. “Who the hell taught you how to use a blade?”

Cas handed the apple to Dean. “I was created with that knowledge,” he remarked dryly.

“Well we all know Chuck sucked at teaching anything.” Cas rolled his eyes, but Dean caught the tiny smile on his lips at Dean’s antics. Dean grinned as he held the apple and knife in front of him with a flourish. “Like this, man. Don’t slice off half the apple with the peel.” Dean demonstrated while Cas leaned in close to observe him. Dean could feel the warmth of his body practically touching him, distractingly close and smelling like his soap and the cinnamon all over his apron. Dean almost nicked himself. He cleared his throat and hastily shoved his supplies back into Cas’ hands. “You try.”

He only watched for about ten seconds before Dean was back to scolding Cas. “No that’s even worse! Your thumb is too close. Here--” And without thinking about it, Dean shuffled in closer and curled his hand around Cas’ to carefully arrange his grip. “Like this.”

Castiel went very, very still. “Of...Of course, Dean,” he said, but his voice was tense and even deeper than normal, like he was doing everything in his power to keep it steady and sure. Dean looked up at his face, but Cas’ eyes were locked on their hands.

Dean yanked his hand away like it was electrocuted. He tried to cover his tracks by clearing his throat and rubbing them over his thighs. “Anyway. Uh. Yeah. Hold it like that.” 

Something quiet and sad flickered across Cas’ eyes, making Dean’s racing heart drop into his stomach. Dean forced a smile until Cas turned back to his peeling.

The silence in the kitchen was heavy. Memories of Cas’ confession weighed down the air, pressing against Dean and keeping him from saying anything more. His own fears choked him. Fears that Cas didn’t mean what he’d said, not in the way Dean wanted him to. And especially not now that he was human, with a human’s feelings, and a human’s experience and all of the mess and confusion and resentment that came with it.

Besides, Cas didn’t deserve someone broken like Dean. And Dean didn’t deserve someone amazing like Cas.

Because at the very least, Cas deserved someone who could look him in the eye when reminded of the fact that he loved him.

Dean scrubbed at his hair and bit back a sigh.

“If you’re just standing around, you can at least slice these,” Cas said, his voice steady and calm again, slicing through the awkward silence and Dean’s pitiful thoughts with the same ease as he cut through the apple peels now that Dean had shown him how. He held out a naked apple for Dean.

Dean immediately grabbed at the lifeline he was given. “You gonna make me cut my own apples for my own birthday pie, Cas?”

Cas’ gaze was unimpressed. “Yes.” He pressed the apple into Dean’s hand and turned back to his own task. Dean made a face at his serious profile, but did as he was told.

The silence surrounding them shifted gradually, moving from awkward to comfortable as they settled into something familiar, working side-by-side, not needing to say a word to fill the quiet between them.

After the third apple, thinly sliced and placed into a big mixing bowl, Dean chanced a glance at Cas. At this angle he could see wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, a clear sign of his humanity. Underneath them the skin was dark and heavy. He was obviously tired. But his eyes were still as bright as the day Dean met him, now shining with a quiet light of contentment.

Dean didn’t understand it 

How could someone look so happy just standing next to him? How could Cas, a former angel, find peace and purpose in doing something so humble?

Yet here he was, baking Dean a pie in the middle of the freaking night. Using his own two hands to make a nice surprise for his birthday. Dean couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done something like this for him. Maybe never. Even Mary’s pies were store bought.

Dean smiled as warm sunshine settled in his chest. Perhaps it didn’t matter if Dean understood it all, because Cas was happy where he was no matter what Dean thought. 

Cas must have sensed a shift in his posture, because he glanced over to him. “What?” He tilted his head at Dean. Dean shook his head a little and didn’t answer, only let his smile grow as he turned back to the apples. In the corner of his eye, he could see Cas still staring at him, but Cas didn’t press for more, and after a moment he returned to his peeling. When Dean glanced at him again, he was smiling too.

They worked in easy silence until the apples were all peeled and sliced. They bickered again as they made the filling, Cas insisting they follow the recipe to the letter while Dean insisted that no, it needed at least twice as much cinnamon. Dean won that round by playing the birthday card. As he rolled out the pie crust, Cas made a few passive aggressive comments about how following the recipe saved the pastry. And when Dean countered by looking him dead in the eye and adding even more cinnamon to the filling, Cas gifted him with a rare laugh that made Dean’s chest swell with smug pride and golden warmth.

They fell back into easy silence while Cas carefully lined their pie tin with pastry. Dean spooned the filling into the tin, packing in as much as he could. While Cas carefully laid the top crust over it and finished things off, Dean helped himself to the leftover slices of crunchy, spicy, sweetened apples.

“Damn Cas, I think I’ve outdone myself this time,” he said with an impertinent wink as Cas slid the pie into the preheated oven and set their kitchen timer. He held out a bite for Cas. “Try it. It’s awesome.”

“Dean, you’re not supposed to eat raw flour.”

Dean rolled his eyes and held up the fork even higher. “Quit being a baby, baby.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed, but he rose to Dean’s baiting. He wrapped his long fingers around Dean’s hand and maneuvered the bite of apple into his mouth. Dean’s heart skipped a beat as he watched his lips move, watched his tongue flick out to catch a speck of brown sugar. Dean’s pulse jumped into his throat.

“Very good,” Cas said with the patient duty of one who was humoring him. “But it will taste much better when it’s baked.” His hand was still wrapped around Dean’s wrist, but Dean hardly noticed. All he could pay attention to was the soft pink color of Cas’ lips as he smiled gently. The dark circles under his eyes, indicating he should have gone to bed hours ago, but he didn’t. He stayed up half the night to bake Dean a pie. To do something kind. Just for him. No expectation in return, just the desire to give Dean a happy surprise on his birthday.

Dean’s eyes fell back to Cas’ lips. He knew they’d taste like cinnamon.

So Dean didn’t think. He didn’t let his doubts take hold. He didn’t allow his own self-destructive fears stop him. He just acted.

Dean leaned in and kissed Castiel.

The kiss was gentle at first, little more than a soft brush of warm lips. He felt rather than heard Cas’ stunned gasp against his mouth, and Dean kissed him again. Dean half expected Cas to push him back. To demand an explanation. To tell him he was wrong about what Cas wanted or how he felt. 

He also half expected Cas to dive in head first. No plan, not knowing what he was doing, only trusting blindly, the way Cas so often did. Satisfaction rumbled in Dean's chest when Cas picked the latter.

The fork they were holding clattered to the floor as Cas threw his arms around Dean with reckless determination. Dean’s bubbling laugh interrupted their kiss, but only for a moment. He gripped Cas at his waist, using the tie strings of his apron to pull him forward until their bodies were pressed together.

Cas’ lips were cinnamon sweet, his mouth warm and inviting as Dean slipped his tongue inside with a soft sigh. Dean let his hands wander, up Cas’ back, down his thick arms, carding through his hair, and soon Cas did the same. They kissed until the kitchen timer started shrieking at them, reluctantly pulling them apart. Cas’ hair was wild, the flour almost completely brushed out of it by now. His lips were wet and kiss-bruised, their lovely pale pink now dark. Dean knew he wasn’t much better himself. The front of his pajamas were now stained with cinnamon from Cas’ apron. He was almost certain there were floury handprints on his ass.

He beamed at Cas and reached for the oven mitts. “Time for the big reveal.”

The pie was burnt at the edges, imperfect and too full, with filling bubbling out of the slits and leaving sticky syrup all over the top crust. But Dean grinned at it like it was the most beautiful pie he’d ever seen. “Hey, when’s the next state fair?” he joked as he set it on the metal counter to cool and turned the oven off. 

Cas was staring at him with awe and disbelief and so, so much love. It twisted in Dean’s chest, warm and comforting and terrifying in equal measure, and for once Dean didn’t force himself to push those feelings back down. Cas loved him. Wholly, unconditionally, knowing everything that Dean had done, everything Dean had been through. He loved him through all of that, without any expectations beyond what Dean was capable of giving him. 

And at forty-two, Dean was too damn old to keep pretending he didn’t love Cas the same way Cas so clearly loved him.

He stepped in close. Cas raised his hands like he wanted to reach out and touch Dean again, but he hesitated, so Dean settled his hands on Cas’ waist and waited for Cas to rest his hands on the small of his back. “Thanks,” he said quietly. He watched the light in Cas’ eyes soften into something sweet and fond. “For the pie,” he added, the giddiness in his heart making it difficult to stay quiet. He cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s great. It’s…” But Dean didn’t have the words to describe how much it all meant to him. How much Cas meant to him. So he leaned in and kissed Cas again, slow and tender. He smiled when he pulled back, and the grin on Cas’ face made it clear he understood everything Dean couldn’t say.

Dean dragged Cas back to his bedroom, where they continued to miss out on some much needed sleep. Some things were worth a little sleep deprivation. But when Dean woke up on the morning of his birthday with Cas resting his head on his chest, looking soft and peaceful and warm, he decided this was the best part of it all.

The pie didn't make it past noon. Not with Dean insisting that it was his birthday and he could eat whatever he wanted for breakfast. And brunch. And lunch.

Sam complained that he didn't save a slice for Eileen, but that was alright. When she showed up that night for pizza and games, she came bearing a tray of rice krispie treats dotted with birthday candles. She didn't even make it all the way down the stairs before Dean wrapped her in a gleeful bear hug.

[ohh-baekhyun]

Nothing Like Us | 04 - [M]

✨Summary: Baekhyun has the chance to spend three weeks under the same roof as you, and he makes it his sole mission to win your heart.

✨Warning: fluffss, smut, blowjob but i suck, no pun intended.

✨Gif credits: @/exo-stentialism

The next few days flew by in a blur of laughter, banter and sex. Lots and lots of sex. You and Baekhyun fall into an easy routine, like two love birds so wrapped up in each other, each day he can’t wait to get off work to be with you again. It is a pleasant feeling, knowing he has someone to go home to at the end of the day. The smile that you greeted him with made him feel so cherished, he wouldn’t trade that for anything else.

For someone who has been in a relationship and was hurt before, Baekhyun knows he shouldn’t be giving himself away this easily. But one thing about the heart is that, it doesn’t give a flying fuck what the brain thinks. Especially when the woman he is falling in love with makes it so damn easy.

He hadn’t said the three words to you yet, neither has you. But he knows he feels it, so fiercely that he had to mentally tape his mouth to keep the words from spilling. Somehow, he thinks it is better to wait, not because he is playing hard to get, but because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, or worse, pressure you into saying it back out of obligation. If you are falling in love with him too, he wants you to realize that on your own. For now, he’ll take things day by day and pray that you’ll come to that realization soon.

The car pulls to a stop in the driveway of his residence and he kills the engine before glancing back. The entire backseat is filled with shopping bags, and inside are the things he bought just for you. There are clothes, shoes, bags, lingerie and...Christ, he sounds like a psychopath even to himself. He doesn’t even like shopping, but he was at the mall for a lunch meeting this afternoon, and he had this sudden urge to shop, not for himself but for you. If it wasn’t for the fact that he only has two hands, he’s certain he would empty out every shop available. There’s no telling how you will react when you see how crazy he is, he can only find out when he walks through that door.

Carrying the paper bags in both hands, Baekhyun heads to the front door. The housekeeper is exiting the house, and she stops in her tracks when she sees him. Her gaze lands on his fully occupied hands, then she glances up at him with narrowed, judging eyes. Ms Lee has been working here since Baekhyun was a toddler. She has witnessed all of his antiques, but this, she has never seen before.

“I know,” Baekhyun sighs. “It’s crazy.”

She scoffs. “Crazy is to put it mildly, sir...”

“You’re fired.” Baekhyun grunts as he moves past her.

The housekeeper simply smiles and walks away. Baekhyun has fired him once a month or so since he was a little boy. She knows not to take his words seriously.

As Baekhyun steps foot into the foyer, he is welcomed with a warm smell of pastries that flows from the kitchen. He makes his way there, where he finds you standing behind a marble top, brows furrowing in concentration as you carefully draw out a piece of muffin from the baking tray to set it down on an empty plate. He watches as your lips stretch into a pleased smile. Knowing you’ve succeeded this time, his chest swells with pride.

Baekhyun knows you’ve been attempting to bake muffins for him, to which you’ve failed twice. The batter was too watery on the first try, and you’d burned the muffins on the second try. He recalls the defeated look on your face as you struggled not to cry at your failure. He’d tried his best to comfort you as he wondered, why do you have to beat yourself up for such a small failure? Then he remembers how you’ve spent all your life trying to impress your parents just to earn their approval and affection, yet, you’re still abandoned in the end. There, he finally understands. You were probably afraid that he’d leave too.

Sometimes it hurts him to see you like this, but he doesn’t know how to make you believe otherwise. Because, how do you convince someone who has been abandoned by the people who are supposed to love them, not to fear it happening again? In that moment, he realized all he can do is love you, with a deepest hope that it would be enough to heal your wounds.

Baekhyun sets the shopping bags down on the floor and walks over to you. You are too immersed in your task in hand, you didn’t notice his arrival until he slides his arms around you from behind and plants a quick kiss on your temple. You gasp and whip your head around.

“Hi,” He greets, smiling down at you.

Your feature softens in an instant and you smile sweetly back at him. “Hi,” you tiptoe to press a kiss on his cheek before pulling back to stare at him. “You are right,” your smile grows. “I can do many things if I try hard enough.”

He glances down at the baking tray, then you. “I take it the muffins turn out well this time?”

You hum. “I think so.”

He clutches your body tightly against him and gives you a loving kiss on your cheek. “I knew you could do it, baby.”

You pick up a piece, swivel around and hold it up to his mouth. “Try it.”

Baekhyun takes a bite and groans a little too dramatically at the sweet flavor that melts in his tongue.

“That’s the sound you make when we have sex.” You remark. “Is it that good?”

“So fucking good.” He dips his head to take another giant bite and ended up getting chocolate all over his mouth.

You laugh at the overly enthusiastic way he chews the food. “Babe, you got something on your,” you gesture with your free hand for him to bend his head. As soon as he does, you lick his lips, bursting into giggles as he tries to kiss you and smear the chocolate on your lips.

He continues to kiss you, licking and nibbling on your lips as his hands slide under your dress to cup your ass. He gives them a hard squeeze, and his cock throbs at the sound of your moan.

“Let’s go up.” He withdraws his lips from yours. “I need to fuck you.”

You stare down at the bulge in his pants, your lips twitching. “How come you’re horny all the time?”

“Everything you do turns me on.” He says.

Your lips stretch into a coyish smile and he watches as the color suffuses your cheek. Damn if that doesn’t make him harder. He groans. Now, all he can think of is the feel of your tight pussy wrapping around his cock as he fucks you mindless.

“Come on,” He holds you by the wrist and leads you out of the kitchen.

Both of you are moving past the dining table when he stumbles over something and stops. Dropping your gaze, you find a boatload of shopping bags lying on the floor.

You scan through the logo printed on the paperbags, then you turn to him, eyes narrowing. “Do you have a fetish for women’s clothing that I don’t know about?”

“Very funny,” he poses a faux smile. “Those are all for you.”

Your lips fall agape. “Fo-for me?!” You squeak, eyes volleying between the bags and him. “But why? It’s not even my birthday or christmas, or valentine? Why are you buying me presents all of a sudden?”

“I’m your boyfriend.” he reminds. “I don’t need a reason to pamper you.”

“Baekhyun, I..” you stare at the shopping bags again, shaking your head in disbelief. “This is all too much…I can’t–“

He pinches your chin, tilting it up so you are eye to eye with him. “When you agree to be my girlfriend, what’s mine becomes yours too. You need to accept that, because eventually, I’ll want to give you more.”

You sigh and jut your lips. “I don’t have a say in this, do I?”

“When it comes to pampering you, no,” he states firmly. “you don’t.”

“Wow,” you roll your eyes. “How did I get so lucky?” you mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He stares at your lips, so wildly aroused he can’t help but to smash his mouth against yours, kissing you hard. Drawing back, he says, “You can thank me with your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock.”

“Are you done?” Baekhyun calls out from the bedroom.

You are in his walk-in closet, trying out the fourth dress of the night after he made you come three times in the shower.

“Be patient,” You shout back as you tie the string of the lace-up dress.

This dress could pass as a lingerie for how skimpy it looks. You know you’ll never wear this in public. Baekhyun will never let you, too. Although you love the soft pink color and the shimmery material of the fabric, it is so ridiculously revealing that you might as well be naked. Plus, it is hugging your body so tightly you can barely breathe.

You pivot in front of the mirror to take a look at the reflection of your back. There’s barely anything covering your back other than the tied up laces. You wonder what your boyfriend reaction will be.

When you step out of the closet, Baekhyun is seated by the side of the bed. He has changed into his homewear; a white tee and black shorts; simple, yet looking so handsome nonetheless. He is rummaging through a box that you have no idea what the content is. You lean your hips on the door frame, taking your time to admire him before walking over.

Hearing your footsteps, he lifts his gaze. “What’s taking you so–oh fuck,” his lips parted in shock the second he sees you in the dress. His reaction made you snigger. He looks dumbstruck as he sweeps his gaze over your body.

You stand by the bed. “Do you like it?” you ask.

Baekhyun pulls at your wrist to sit you down on his lap. You shift your bum and drape your legs over his thighs to make yourself comfortable. His eyes scan the dress again, “I love it,” he admits as he hooks his forefinger on one of the straps. His eyes shift up to you again. “but you’re not wearing this outside this room.”

You know you’ll eventually comply to him, yet, you still raise your brows in a challenge. “Have you always been this bossy?”

“You like me bossy, or you wouldn’t be here, in my bed.”

You let out a scornful huff. “Now you sound like a cocky bast–ahh!” He pinches your nipple through the dress and hold on. You whimper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Baekhyun, please...my boob!” you beg. He finally releases it with a snigger. “You’re so mean!” You pout, rubbing your breast.

He pecks you on the lips. “Keep being a brat, I might spank you someday.”

“Are you…” You eye him suspiciously. “into that kinky bdsm shit too?”

The corner of his lip curls. “Speaking of kinky,” He swivels around to grab the box he was holding earlier. Your eyes follow his movement. He settles the box on your lap. Finally getting a clearer look at the content, you realize they’re a bunch of sex toys.

You look back at him, half surprised, half wondering, “Where did you get these?”

“I inherited them,” he sounds and looks serious. “from my great grandparents.”

Speechless, your jaw drop and you blink at him. You nearly fall for it until you detect a twitch on his lips, and the mirth in his eyes. You smack him across his chest. “You’re crazy.”

He flicks your forehead to retaliate. “I’m surprised you just figured that out.”

You groan, snatching the box away from his grasp. You dig your hand into the box to rifle through the content. “Why did you buy me sex toys?”

“Have you played with these before?” he asks. You shake your head. He sets the box aside and looks at you with this lazy look in his eyes. A look that means very good things to you. You gulp, anticipating.

“Take off your dress,” He says. “I’ll show you how these things work.”

You slide off his lap, and turn around to give him your back. “Can you help me out?” you ask. You heart races when you feel his warm breath on your back as he unties the laces. The front part of the dress drops to your waist and you pull the skirt down carefully. It is so tight you fear it tearing. A sudden slap on your buttcheek causes you to yelp, and you turn around in an instant. You feel the heat rising on your cheek as he stares at you. “What was that for?” You ask.

“You’re slow as a turtle,” He says. “Come here.”

You are tempted to retort, but that’ll probably earn you another spanking. So you do as he says.

When you’re seated on his lap again, he picks out a cylinder looking object that you assume is a dildo. You examine the toy, then you look at him, gulping nervously. “Are you going to put that inside me?”

His eyes hold concern when he senses your nervousness. He leans in to kiss you sweetly on the lips. “It is not going to hurt, baby.” he assures. “But I need to get you wet first.”

“I’m already…uhm, you know,” you chew on your lower lip, blushing.

He slides his fingers over your slit to test your wetness. Finding you soaked, his eyes flashed with heat and amusement. “You’re wet.”

You shrug, giving him a small smile. “Everything you do turns me on too.”

Baekhyun clicks on the tip of the vibrator to turn it on. The light, buzzing noise occupies the silence. “Spread your legs, baby.” 

You parted your thigh, but as soon as the tip of the vibrator touches your clit, the sensation made you clamp your legs together. He snaps his eyes up, raising his brows in a silent order for you to open. You brace yourself as you slowly part your legs again. And your moaning starts as soon as he plunges the vibrating toy inside your pussy.

He keeps his dark eyes on you as he fucks you leisurely. “You like this, don’t you?” He asks, pumping the vibrator in and out of you. You manage a strangled hum. “Do you want me to go faster?”

“Please…” you beg, breathing heavily.

“Like this?” He starts to move his hand at a rapid speed.

“Y-yes...ah-ahh!” The volume of your moaning gets louder. And that sound seems to encourage Baekhyun to go faster and harder. Your cunt is so wet that the sloppy sound of your juice is filling the entire room. He doesn’t stop even when you are cumming all over the toy.

Three orgasms later, you’re spent and Baekhyun finally stops when he knows you’ve reached your limit. You had your arms around him as you lean your head on his chest, too weak to move. He strokes your hair tenderly and presses a kiss on your head. A smile makes its way to your lips. You close your eyes with a sigh, savouring the affection he is offering you. You love it when he takes care of you like this.

After cuddling you for a while, Baekhyun says, “I’m hard as a rock, baby, it hurts.”

You can hear the pain in his voice. You giggle softly, feeling his hard-on beneath your thigh. “Can I help?”

“Get on your knees, then.” He whispers in your ear.

You unclasp your hands around his shoulder and slides off his lap. Your legs feel wobbly and you can hardly keep yourself up, but the need to pleasure him is stronger. You lower yourself by the bed and kneel in between his spread legs. Glancing up, you wait for his next instruction.

“Take it out,” he says.

Excitement shivers through your body as you pull at the waistband of his shorts. He lifts his hips, ripping his shorts down in one movement. His erection juts up, long, thick and throbbing with veins. You lick your lips, mentally salivating at the sight of his precum.

He weaves his fingers through your hair and grabs the back of your head. “Take me in your mouth, baby.”

Your hand gravitates toward his cock, and your fingers curl around the base. You part your lips and bring the tip into your mouth, tongue swirling around the round flesh to lick off his arousal.

A grunt tears out of him as his palm clamps around your hair. “Stop teasing and suck it.” He orders gruffly.

Baekhyun is a control freak through and through, especially in bed. And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You bring his cock deeper into your mouth and clamp your lips around it. He moans when you start bobbing your head, pushing his hard length in and out of your mouth. Closing your eyes, you revel in the sound he makes.

“Ahh fuuck, just like that...” He groans throatily. “Take it deeper, baby. You’re sucking me so good.”

You thrill at his praise and draw his cock as far as you can into your mouth. The tip touches your throat and you choke at the pressure. Water forms in your eyes but it doesn’t stop you. His pleasure is your pleasure too, you thought. So you tighten the suction of your mouth and bob your head faster. His panting grows heavier and you feel his cock swelling in your mouth. His orgasm is nearing. But he grips your hair in a fist and hold you back. You glance up through your lashes to look at him.

“That’s enough,” he tugs your hair back, letting his cock slips out of your mouth. “Get in bed.”

You’re confused but you follow his order nonetheless. With shaky legs, you rise to your feet and climb into bed. You lay on your back, all naked with your long hair spreading over the mattress.

Baekhyun sets one knee on the side of the bed and stares down at you. “I’m going to cum all over you, baby…” He wraps his fingers around his throbbing cock. “and you’re going to watch me.”

Your heart lurches at his promise. You watch as he starts pumping his hard length with vigor. Beads of sweat form around his forehead. He looks so supremely hot with his jaw clenched, and his teeth biting down on his lip. You feel breathless just by watching him.

It isn’t long until you hear a long, guttural moan rips out of his throat. He jerks, shooting his load onto you. But he isn’t done yet. After muttering a few expletives, he bends forward to position his cock near your breast. His pumps is slowing down steadily. The tip of his cock brushes over your nipple as he spurts the remaining of his cum around your breast. His warm seed trickles down your pink bud, causing goosebumps to rise all over your skin. Your breath hitches.

Baekhyun straighten his back. He seems so mesmerized as he gazes down at you. “I’ve always imagined you like this…” he takes his time to scan every inch of your body. “you look so beautiful with my cum all over you.” He bends down and braces his hands on each side of your shoulder. Then, he leans in to kiss you, long and sweet. “Stay here,” he says as he draws away.

He is leaving you and the bed now.

“Where are you going?” you question, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He stops and bring his head around. “To get my phone,”

“Why do you need your phone?”

“To take pictures of you, pretty.”

Hearing that, you sit up and grab a pillow to cover your front. “I...I don’t think I’m comfortable with that,” You say weakly. His expression changes and your heart drops at the sight of that. Is he dissapointed? God. Through your worry and guilt, you can’t seem to tell what he’s thinking. “I’m sorry.”

His expression is still unreadable as he walks over to join you in bed. He extends his arms and slid them underneath your thigh, hoisting your body up with ease. He settles you on his lap and you’re still hugging the pillow to your body. You eye him apologetically. He frowns. “What are you sorry for?”

“I don’t know...I just feel bad for saying no to you…”

“Don’t be,” he assures. “I’d be an ass for forcing you into doing things you’re not comfortable with.”

You blow away a sigh. “But I ruined the moment...”

“Ruined?” He huffs incredulously. “I get to be with the prettiest woman I've ever seen. I’m lucky. There’s nothing more I could ask for.”

Relief eases the heaviness in your chest. For a while, you can only stare quietly at him, in awe. “You always know all the right things to say.” you smile gratefully. “Thank you.”

Baekhyun lifts a hand to brush his knuckle over your cheek. He seems to be considering something in his head as he reads your expression. Hesitantly, he asks, “Will you tell me what happened?”

Knowing where he’s getting at, you nod. You trust this man with all your heart you don’t even think twice but to tell the truth.

“The guy I dated in middle school. He had a video of me…” your words fade away but Baekhyun gets the idea, so you carry on, “We were together for a while until he started to get abusive. I wanted to end things, but he threatened to spread the video if I break up with him so…”

“Middle school?” he frowns deeply. “Aren’t you underage then?”

Regret fills your eyes with tears and you nod. “I know it’s wrong, but I had been so desperate for love and he is the only person who seemed to notice me,” 

“Fuck,” he presses his lips into a tight line. “How long?” his words came out rough and snappish. “How long were you dating that jerk?” 

“For two years until my dad sent me to Japan,” you chuckle dryly and joke, “Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise afterall.” 

He isn’t laughing, instead his face darkens, and you can feel the rage radiating off of him.

To see someone as easy-going as Baekhyun being this angry should be scary, but it feels liberating instead. Because you know his anger isn’t directed at you. This man cares enough to feel angry for you.

“Baekhyun,” you call out to him. He seems to be lost in his own thoughts. So you lean up to kiss him softly on his lips. That’s when he finally looks at you, blinking. You smile up at him, “What are you thinking about so seriously?”

He grunts. “I’m thinking about the million ways I’m going to hunt this fucker down and murder him for messing with you.”

You smooth your palm over his chest, feeling so much for him your heart nearly burst. His body seems to relax under your touch. “It’s all in the past, honey,” you assure him. “I’m okay now.”

“Did you tell anyone about this?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I can’t, it’s...embarassing.”

His brows pinched together in a frown. “Yet you told me about it...why?”

“Because I trust you,” you answer honestly. 

And deep inside, you know you didn’t just trust him. You are falling in love with him too.

[randomnameless]

Interesting FE16 world-building (?) tidbits, found through food and menus

or i was hungry : the post

Nabateans have no taste, Zanado fruit is described as “inedible” but apparently golden Zanado fruit is rad, so idk. Is it a Zanado fruit specially harvested for human tastes?

Saghert & Cream :  “ A baked confection with Noa fruit cream and a currant reduction, often enjoyed as a dessert at family gatherings.”

Noa fruit --> smthg smthg Noa, and Noa’s crest is apparently making Constance able to grow flowers (or to make plants bloom)? Are Noa fruits specific to Western Adrestia, or are they found everywhere? But since it’s a common dessert enjoyed at “family gatherings” I suppose Noa fruits are kind of common and/or not that expensive. Noa crested people make a lot of fruits and control the production of Noa fruits in the continent? But even if they have a monopoly on Noa fruits they think it’s more profitable to sell them at a rather low price than to treat it as a delicacy?

Sweet Bun Trio : “ Traditional pastries from Faerghus, known for their subtle sweetness. The dough is made with eggs and sugar.”

Important to note : this is made with Noa fruits (lel) and Albinean berries. So, traditionaly, Faerghus traded with Albinea to get fruits to fill their donuts/buns? Otoh, if the taste is rumoured to be subtle, Sylvain apparently doesn’t find it so awesome because he has that infamous “food from my own country sucks”. And yet he still like Faerghus’s sweet buns, so...

Pheasant Roast with Berry Sauce : “ Well-roasted Fodlan pheasant drizzled with a berry reduction sauce”.

Again, made with Albinean berries. Are they sweet or sour? Pheasants are eaten by a majority of nobles, but some commoners like it too, Raph (duh), Mercedes, Cyril and Flayn.

Peach Sorbet : “ A sorbet made with thin slices of magically frozen peach, dusted with bean flour”.

Made with, uh, peaches, and chickpeas (?).

Here comes Fodlan’s magic, in that world, people waste i mean use magic to bake/make funny food. If peaches are “magically frozen” then they musn’t be “naturally frozen” (well...) so this dish wasn’t originally from Faerghus. Maybe it’s an Adrestian delicacy and imperial mages are used, during peaceful times, as hired freezers?

Beast Meat Teppanyaki : “ A dish that tastes like wilderness. Thick slices of meat covered with Noa fruit and grilled on a hotplate”

Here another menu graced by House Nuvelle’s graces

Otoh, “beast meat” like... are they using meat from the various monsters? Or, worse, demonic beasts? But then, given what they used to be... not so odd to note, no nabatean likes this meal

Pickled Rabbit Skewers : “ Hunks of rabbit meat are pickled in bacchus, skewered, and roasted over an open flame to create this flavorful dish”

Finally someone cooking something with wine i mean - The only other mention of bacchus we had in the game was in the description of the Feast in Rhea’s trashy novel, apparently “fine bacchus” comes from Boramas, a territory of the Empire not that far from Enbarr. Given how Faerghus’ climate seems a bit too cold for wine, it must grow in the alliance/empire. So this dish is a southern (well) one?

Daphnel Stew :  “Minced poultry and onions boiled with salt. The simple recipe lets high-quality ingredients speak for themselves.”

We have high-quality ingredients in Daphnel, like Raddest Chicken (tm) and Best Salt (tm)? Or onions, you can’t cook without onions.

Or was Daphnel a great cook back in the day? Idk. Still, the alliance seems to be proud of their local products? First Count Gloucester with his sheep, and now Daphnel and their salt - i mean poultry! No one’s famous for their salt, save for, maybe, the guys from Bergliez with the Kingdom and the Alliance said “thks bye” to Adrestia

Gronder Meat Skewers : “ Fatty hunks of Gronder fox cooked slowly on skewers. The meat is magically aged for a full flavor.”

??? Fodlan people eat foxes? Ingredient list requires “wild game” and onions, but still... We all know how Guinivere’s baby fox would have ended then, or an AU where Kaden pops up in Fodlan.

However, here’s the second instance where Magic is used to alter an ingredient’s flavour. How do they “magically” age meat? Can that spell be used on living things to make them decay? It is a Hel “lite”?

Apparently, Cichol was rumoured to have blessed the Gronder Fields with good harvests, but randoms were tired to eat bread every day so they wanted to eat foxes. Not so oddly enough (?) Nabateans aren’t fond of that dish.

Derdriu-Style Fried Pheasant :  “ Pheasant meat is pounded flat and fried. Can be served as a sort of sandwich, with cheese between two strips of meat.”

Fried chicken comes from the Alliance people, and from Derdriu that is to say, from the Riegans. They created fast food, or KFC’s Double Down.

Edel made a wise choice in attacking them and removing the Riegans from the continent in CF

Interesting to note, Hanneman, Manuela and Seteth are fond of this. You cannot write a modern AU without them ordering something at KFC now, you cannot.

Vegetable Pasta Salad : “Pasta with a blend of fresh vegetables from various regions of Fódlan. This popular dish sells out almost instantly.”

Much more healthy! And also more popular? Everyone loves pasta! And does it mean everyone in Fodlan makes their own version of this dish with their local variants (cabbage in Faerghus?) or there are trading routes in the continent where Faerghus’ cabbage can be easily bought by Dude Von Random in the Empire if he wants to eat that salad?

Onion Gratin Soup :  “ Onions stewed with white trout and baked with a layer of cheese on top. Will warm you up from the inside out.”

The trout. Why the trout. Given how nearly everyone from Faerghus is fond of this dish (Linhardt and Marianne are the only non-kingdom students to like it) I’d say it comes from the North, and I remember Gautier being a famous place for “Gautier Cheese”. Also a dish that warms you from the inside would be conceived in a place where it’s cold? Or it’s some sort of comfort food.

Country-Style Red Turnip Plate :  “ A balanced meal including red turnip and verona stew, red turnip salad, and sautéed red turnip with garlic.”

Mostly appreciated by Imperial students, this meal looks healthy, again. Maybe they have a lot of turnips in the Empire, idk. Cichol mixed beetroots and turnips and thought they could give sugar to the empire with all those beetroots but welp they have a crapton of turnip fields now and you can’t make anything with turnips but those silly humans still found a way to accomodate them?

Vegetable Stir-Fry : “A dish of dried tomatoes, cabbage, chickpeas, and other vegetables, stir-fried with eggs. Nutritious and very filling. “

Not specifically tied to a country. tomatoes would suggest it doesn’t come from Faerghus though. But cabbage? Or it’s some sort of fusion food. Sounds tasty though (unlike the turnip salad)

Grilled Herring : “ Herring caught off the coast of Albinea, shredded and grilled in an earthenware pot with sliced turnips.”

what is wrong with the devs and their love for turnips

This dish uses herring from Albinea, so, unless Fodlanese fishers regularly hang out near a foreign nation’s shores to fish, they must trade. I don’t know if Albinean herring is expensive or if Garreg Mach uses a lot of its budget on Albinean herrings but I suppose there’s at least a main line of supply for this kind of fish.

First you trade fish, next we have exchange students from Albinea

Fish and Bean Soup :  “ A soup made by simmering white trout and chickpeas. A simple yet wholesome dish.”

Only Faerghus students love this meal (and Marianne). It seems plain but if Word of God says it’s wholesome, who am i to criticize?

Fruit and Herring Tart : “ A baked tart with stewed herring and Noa fruit mixed into the batter. Popular in Enbarr, the Imperial Capital.”

To contrast with the previous dish, this pie sounds complicated to make and is, of course, popular in Enbarr. You could make a caricature out of this. Oddly enough, no BE student is fond of this dish. Lorenz is though, previsibly.

Fisherman’s Bounty : “ Freshly-caught fish are cut into chunks and stewed together to make this hearty dish.”

Sponsorised by Indech since it requires a Teutates Loach. Flayn likes it. You only need fish and fish to make this dish which is, uh... well. Dedue’s the only guy to like this.

Fish Sandwich : “A simple dish. Airmid pike is pickled in vinegar and served with cabbage between two slices of bread.“

You average random sandwich, with pickled fish. Petra and Manu are the only non BL people to like this but now that i think about it, since it has cabbage, it must be a dish from Faerghus ? Or Faerghus exports cabbage to the rest of the world, and the rest of the world came up with this idea for a sandwich.

Two-Fish Saute : “Two types of fish are cut into strips and sauteed in butter. This lavish meal hails from Embarr, the Imperial Capital.”

It needs Caledonian Gar and Albinean Herring. Of course it’s lavish, it comes from Embarr. A lot of people are fond of this, Lorenz included, of course. Oddly enough, Leonie likes it too so it musn’t be that expensive?

Bourgeois Pike : “ A gourmet fish dish with Airmid pike, vegetables, and a sprinkle of expensive spices. Popular among nobles.”

It doesn’t come from Enbarr??

It needs a carrot and Airmid Pike. Dedue, Seteth and Manu are the only commoners fond of this dish, but I wonder what are those expensive spices needed. Saffron? Does it even exist in Fodlan? And why is it considered a gourmet dish? The ingredients aren’t that rare.

Calling it now, between Sitri’s resting place, the coffin where Seiros’s supposed to have been laid to rest and the storage room where Rhea does her monthly maintanance for golems, there is a specific room in the Monastery where randoms look after jerky, to make sure it ages properly and doesn’t develop mold or something like that.

Sautéed Jerky : “Jerky aged in the monastery and sautéed for a delightfully salty flavor. A perfect snack to go with your favorite drink.”

Now, Dimitri’s fond of this dish, but since he can’t taste it can it really be said he likes it? OTOH, Hubert likes it too, so our local evil chancelor drinks coffee while munching on chicken jerky. I still don’t understand why chickpeas are needed though.

Spicy Fish and Turnip Stew : “ Spicy stew made with Teutates loach and turnips. The monastery’s unique recipe features spices from Dagda.”

Turnip again

This dish has different local variations, given how the monastery’s one uses spices from Dagda. Is it because Garreg Mach can import spices from Dagda and the other places in Fodlan cannot or aren’t allowed, or because whoever is in charge of the meals in the monastery thought the turnip would taste good with Dagdan spices? Idk. Petra likes it, but Shamir isn’t particulary fond of this dish.

Sweet and Salty Whitefish Sauté : “ Whitefish is coated in spices and sautéed with dried tomatoes to bring out an addictive salty-sweet flavor.”

Dried tomatoes aren’t “sundried tomatoes” so maybe it’s an oversight, or there is a process (magical or just using an over) to dry tomatoes in Fodlan. This dish is exclusively liked by members of the BL house. Teutates is in Faerghus, but given how the climate is harsh, I don’t think tomatoes grow there? Or maybe they had some sort of magical greenhouses?

Super-Spicy Fish Dango : “ A light snack, popular in the Empire. Small, spicy balls of fried dough packed with white trout and dried tomato.”

This is the opposite of a gourmet or a lavish dish, but it is enjoyed in the Empire and not exclusively in Enbarr. Oddly enough, Hanneman is the only Adrestian fond of this. Leonie and Ingrid are fond of it, is it cheap? Given how it’s a snack and popular, I’d say it is.

c’est un acras de truite à la tomate?

Sautéed Pheasant and Eggs : “Thin slices of bird meat and shredded cabbage, mixed with scrambled eggs and sautéed spices. Invention of a certain noble.”

“a certain noble” WHO??

Ferdie’s fond of it, but I can’t see Aegir peeps inventing meals, and given the ingredients used, I cannot pinpoint an origin. It sounds like a snack. Claude is fond of it.

Garreg Mach Meat Pie : “A crispy-brown pie packed with tomatoes, cheese, and tender chunks of meat.” 

... This is totally comfort food, isn’t it?

Fittingly enough, Manuela is fond of it. Maybe she eats those pies when she has a hangover or something. OTOH, if it wasn’t evident enough with the previous recipes, Garreg Mach develops its own gastronomy, different from what we could find in the Alliance, the Kingdom or the Empire. I actually wonder how they are supplied with food, is everything made in the monastery or are they importing stuff from other places in Fodlan? Since they have Dagdan spices, they also import from Dagda or they grow their own brand of Dagdan spices?

Cheesy Verona Stew : “A rich dish consisting of verona and sautéed Teutates loach. These ingredients are boiled and served with two kinds of melted cheese.”

Dimitri is fond of this dish with all the reservations i expressed above. Hanneman is the only Adrestian fond of this dish, but damn, two melted cheeses in a fish dish? Is it a fish fondue or something?

Pickled Seafood and Vegetables : “A Dagdan dish of raw fish and turnips pickled in a vinegar-based seasoning liquid. Rarely eaten in Fodlan.”

It may be rarely eaten in Fodlan but a lot of students and staff members like this dish! Shamir isn’t part of them, but Hubert is. Since it’s pointed out here, raw fish sounds to be something only people in Dagda eat, or at least, Fodlanese randoms do not eat raw fish. So the pickled fish used in the fish sandwich is actually cooked fish? They made pickles from cooked things? Odd.

Gautier Cheese Gratin : “A gratin of bird meat topped with heaps of Gautier cheese, which is famous for its low fat content. It has a unique flavor.”

Low fat content cheese what kind of insanity - this uses a Noa fruit, even if Nuvelle and Gautier are geographically opposed if you look at a Fodlan map. But whoever invented this dish thought it’d be nice to put a Noa fruit in it, so why not. Dimitri’s fond of it, actually can it be that he likes whatever is cooked with cheese?

dimitri is a cheese lover so automatically dimitri = best lord

Cabbage and Herring Stew : “ Cabbage and Albinean herring stewed whole. The fish guts lend this hearty dish a superbly bitter kick.”

Again thanks to Albinean exports, Hubert can eat his bitter stew. Lorenz is fond of it too, just like Flayn, Manu and Hanneman. i don’t have a lot of things to say about this dish

Scrambled Eggs with Vegetables : “ Fried eggs mixed with tomatoes, cabbage, and chickpeas along with other vegetables and legumes. A highly nutritious dish.”

Again with the joke about hangover food, but Manu likes this “highly nutritious” dish. Given how it is enjoyed by various students across Fodlan, I’d say this dish isn’t tied to one region, but is actually eaten everywhere in the continent.

that’s it no more dishes

[thehopefuldandelion]

Not Him

part 3

part 1 and 2 and 3 on ao3. part 1 and 2 and 3 on ff.net.

thanks to all who have supported me on this journey!

*sends kisses and hugs*

also I'm sorry this has taken me weeks. life has been hectic.

***

Peeta

My god. Holy frickin cow. Katniss kissed me. Well, my cheek but still! The burning sensation from her soft kiss is still present. She may have run from me but at least I have a chance with her, the most beautiful goddess there is. I sound like a fuckin’ love sick teenager. 

That fateful day that the stars aligned and she interviewed, I knew the universe was sending me a message. I’ve known Katniss since forever. Those putrid yellow swings’ memory still burns a hole in the back of my mind. The little girl with the red checkered dress and two braids moving with the wind, she was absolutely breathtaking, and, well, she still is. I may have been 5, but hey, the heart wants what it wants.

Graduation, class of 2009. It was sunset, the most vivid sunset I think I’ve ever seen. The sky was painted with indigo, orange, and rose colored pink. Katniss Everdeen, the star of my wet dreams, became more than I ever thought a person could. She not only stole my heart but gained a new title, the girl on fire. The subtle reds and vibrant oranges mixed behind her while she gave her eloquent valedictorian speech. My heart only had room for her and I could barely breath she was just that alluringly, gorgeous. I thought of her as my Katniss even though every interaction with her ended with insults. She loathed me and I wasn't sure why. I’m still confused as to what changed.

I watch her long, wavy raven hair flutter behind her as she runs to her car. I bring my fingers up to touch my cheek, savoring the memory of her soft lips. 

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

***

Katniss

As I drive home, I begin to question my barely there sanity. I-why did I kiss him? Not only is he my boss but I hated him. No, hate not hated. What’s wrong with me? I feel as if everything in my life is changing so fast I can’t see the path in front of me like a car on a foggy morning. My lungs fill with air that can’t seem to release and before I know it, I’m hyperventilating. Blindly, I shove the key in my apartment door, unlock, lock, and sink to my knees with my back against the door. 

I can’t explain these rampant feelings that are blindsiding me. Do I actually like Peeta Mellark? He does cause butterflies to erupt in my stomach and warmth to flow throughout my body when he walks in a room. Our past 2 “dates” awakened my soul more than it has been in years. He was flustered and shy after I kissed his cheek. What could that mean. Does he like me? Wait, he hated it didn't he. God, I’m such a dickhead and I don’t even have one.

As the days pass into weeks and weeks into months, I do my best to avoid Peeta at all costs. He seems to be doing the same which is fine with me. I still have erotic thoughts and memories of that fateful night at the movies but as times moves on, it pushes to the back of my mind. He and I aren’t a thing. Right?

It was Christmas time in Panem. Rosy cheeks and runny noses with melodious laughter fill every coffee shop, street, and home in this little town. Snow banks pile up on the edges of roads. I decided to come home for my Christmas vacation, not that there is really a home to come back for. While the neighbors would hang boughs of holly and red ribboned wreaths with colorful lights, my house was bland. It wasn’t always like this. When my father was alive, there never was a dreary day. Of course that all changed when he passed and my mom became a recluse. She moved away shortly after, but I couldn’t bring myself to sell the house. Memories of sweet hot cocoa and Eskimo kisses flood into my mind. A slice of my heart died with my father.

Shaking those troubled thoughts away, I climb the steps of the rickety wood porch and open the front door. Because I never visit, it has fallen apart, literally. Oh, father I’m so sorry. Roughly all the window panes are broken and rat droppings are scattered around. The kitchen faucet is loose and dust clouds.= every surface. I have my work cut out for me.

I spot some firewood outside and lay it in the hearth, lighting a match and setting the wood ablaze. Warmth. Love. Home. I missed this. The smell of wilderness and smoke waft into nose. I curl up and fall into a deep sleep, rat droppings and all.

Tap. Tap. Tap. I awake to a sharp knock at the door. Peeta? What is he doing here all handsome and muscular. My god, his arms. I want to lick the sweat that glistens on his forehead. 

“Peeta? What are you doing here?” I ask confused and slightly drowsy from sleep.

“Katniss,” Peeta says breathlessly. “I-I can’t keep doing this. Why did you stop speaking to me?”

Taken back by his words, I hesitate before saying, “I thought you hated the kiss, I mean, me.” 

“Hate you, no, never Katniss. I love you, completely and incandescently,” he says while stepping into the house and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

He...loves me? Me? How was I so stupid. Without thinking, I gently press my lips against his. He is hesitant at first but adds pressure to my lips, lightly kissing back. He then wraps his arms around my waist, as I bite his lip, sucking it to relieve pain. He tentatively tangles his tongue with mine causing a moan to bubble up in my throat. We break for air, the tension sizzling between us. His baby blue eyes are darker and filled with lust.

I forcefully latch my lips on his and he pushes me against the now closed door. Through our bruising, loving, tender kisses, I feel an underlying urge for more. To initiate this, I jump into his arms with my legs wrapping around his waist. I hear a “Fuck Katniss” and I groan loudly. 

‘Do’. Kiss. ‘You’. Kiss. ‘Know’. Kiss. ‘How’. Kiss. ‘Long’. Kiss. ‘I’ve’. Kiss. ‘Wanted this,’ Peeta says shakily. He makes his way to the stairs and I point him in the direction of my bedroom. He grins and gently lowers me to the bed. He gently unbuttons my shirt while I push down his jeans.

“Peeta,” I moan excited for what’s about to happen. I can’t believe-

Bang. I sit up looking around me. My hair sticks to my forehead as my whole body is drenched in sweat. Shit. The handle of the sink in the kitchen fell off. The fire is nothing but embers and ashes at this point with the sun streaming though a crack in the curtains. Disorientedly, I walk to my bag and pull out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I am in definite need of a shower. 

I decide to go into town once I’ve showered and changed. A quick glance outside of the kitchen window shows evidence of powdery snow dusting every surface. It’s a winter wonderland, literally. I wonder what Peeta would think of this. He always had an eye for beauty. Thoughts of him brings me back to my dream. It was so realistic and I-I wish it could be real. What am I thinking? Even though it's not exactly right, I don’t regret any of these thoughts. 

***

As I walk around the narrow brick streets, stopping briefly in each store, my stomach lightly grumbles. In the distance, a bakery can be seen. Warm light spills out the clear windows, illuminating the snow in gold. My fingers itch to open the heavy, wood door and feel the heat tingle my cheeks and toes. The aroma of freshly baked pastries and bread waft into my nose, leading me to the door. 

The wooden floor is worn but homely and the countertops have just been cleaned. Surprisingly, the cozy bakery is empty, not a soul can be seen. Eh, their loss. More pastries for me.

I bend down to look at all the mouth watering cookies, mini cakes, and breads. and spot something that I remember from my childhood. When I was younger, my dad would take me to the bakery every Sunday after hunting. He would buy a cheese bun and spilt half of it with me. The curly haired baker’s son would walk from the back with a fresh bun and hand it to me with a shy grin on his face. That all stopped when my father passed and I never saw the baker or his kind son ever again.

A man’s voice shakes me out of that memory.

“Would you like to buy something, miss?”

I stand up slowly and look the man on the eye and say, “Yes, definitely.”

The man is an older gentleman with crinkles around his bright blue eyes when he smiles. His hair is golden with gray mixed in. He is also tall with broad shoulders, he seems like an older version of Peeta almost.

“Can I get 1 cheese bun please?” I ask politely to the man.

“Yes of course, Katniss,”he responds.

“What-wh-how do you know my name?” I reply in a shocked tone.

“Why Katniss, it's me. Peeta’s father.”

“Oh my gosh. Mr. Mellark? It’s been years.”

“Yes indeed it has. I sold this bakery about a decade ago and moved closer to the city to be near Peeta. He helped me open a bakery there, which he owns now, and it is very successful,” he says with pride in his voice. “I moved back to Panem about a year ago and bought this bakery back and it has been my love ever since.”

I nod at this and realize that Peeta works for a huge corporation he started up and owns a bakery. What else can he do?

Mr. Mellark walks to the back, I’m guessing to pick up a fresh cheese bun, and discusses something with someone. I’m slightly craning my ears to hear what is being said when the last person I expected to be here walks out.

Peeta.

Fucking.

Mellark.

“K-Katniss. What are you doing here,” he says, slightly flustered.

My cheeks blush as I remember my erotic dream of last night. Peeta’s hair is unruly as if it has been brushed through by his hands one too many times. He is wearing a tight fitting white shirt with a similarly colored apron around his muscular waist. A bit of flour lines his upper cheek and icing trails down his shirt. He is hot.

“Uh, I decided to come home for Christmas. What about you?”

How ironic is it that the girl who always had something rude to spat out at Peeta, can barely make a comprehensible sentence. 

“Same. So, um, here is your cheese bun,” Peeta replies while handing me the gooey and delicious pastry with a crooked grin.

Oh my God.

Peeta is that boy. The boy with the bread. My boy with the bread.

“Th-tha-thank you,” I stutter out.

I quickly turn on my heel and find a table to eat at. The daisies and flickering candles create a sweet ambiance that distracts me from the weather outside. Speaking of which, the snow is heavily falling, to the point where you can’t see your own hand in front of your face. On top of that, it's dark, the sunset having already set, and I realize that getting home will not be easy.

Shit.

The cheese bun, which was delicious, is gone in a flash and I start towards the door. I push with all my might but realize it won’t open because of the packed snow in front of it. Dang it.

“Katniss, do you need help?” Peeta asks, watching my struggle.

“No, I don’t need help,” I grumble. I then turn back around, back facing Peeta, and push some more.

After a couple more attempts and badly held in giggles from Peeta, I give up and resignedly walk back to the table I had preciously occupied. Damn him.

I come to the conclusion that I will not be leaving this bakery until at least morning. Might as well get prepared for a long night.

Peeta comes towards the table and says, “Seeing as the snow won’t let up any time soon, I guess we are stuck here.” No duh.

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly at this and lay my head on my arms.

“Well, the table can’t be comfortable, Katniss.”

“It’s fine, Peeta. Perfectly okay,” I mumble to him in my sweater. 

“I-I have a loft above the bakery with a bed and bathroom if you want to use it. I don’t mind, honestly,” he rubs the back of his neck while blushing causing me to fluster. Why am I so weird around this man?

“Uh-well, if y-you don’t mind,” I respond while standing up and gathering my stuff.

“Follow me.”

Peeta leads me through what seems a maze of a kitchen in the back and farther into the building until we reach a flight of stairs. 

“Ladies first,” he tells me.

I blush, again, and walk quickly up the stairs. At the top, is a large oak door which I can only guess was from a large tree that soars into the air. Peeta steps around me and unlocks the door, cracking it open. I cautiously peer at him and he nods his head in a manner of telling me to enter.

Whoa. That is my first reaction to the professional kitchen with metal countertops and floor to ceiling window on the south wall. In one corner is a mini office, complete with a desk and chair with stacks of paper, bills I'm guessing, laid on top. The opposite side of the loft holds a worn, blue couch and small tv. Outdoor lights brighten the place and can be found hanging from almost every high surface. The bathroom is directly across from the front door and the spacious bedroom is next to it. Who new a loft could have this much character with its brick walls and worn orange wood floors.

“My father has a house about a mile from here and we rent this place out when I’m not home. It helps during slow times at the bakery and I don’t get down here much so its rented almost all year round. This is home for me, I guess.” Peeta says timidly.

“I’m speechless. This loft is beautiful,” I say in awe.

I drop my belongings and follow Peeta as he gives me a quick tour. 

“Thank you for this, truly,” I address him.

“Of course, Katniss. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he smiles back at me.

“Could I use a toothbrush and tooth paste by chance?”

“Yes, I will go get them for you,” Peeta says as he walks to a small hall closet. “I also have some sweats and a t-shirt you can borrow if you would be more comfortable.”

“U-uh yes. Thank you,” I say quickly, stumbling on my words. To be honest, I hadn’t even thought about changing but Peeta offered so I couldn't refuse.

He returns with clothes and basic toiletries for me to use tonight and I take them and smile shyly.

“I’ll be back.”

He nods his head and walks over to the kitchen, I presume to bake. 

Closing the bathroom door softly, I realize the awkward predicament I am currently stuck in. What does it mean that I’m wearing my boss’ clothes? I wore his shirt before. This isn't that different. What about sleeping arrangements? Surely, he will want to sleep in his bed and I’ll take the couch. Yes, right, that’s perfect.

The shirt’s scent was, well, Peeta. Dill and cinnamon with a hint of detergent wafting to my nose. It was a couple sizes too big and hung off my shoulders. The sweatpants were a different matter altogether. They too, slipped off my body, causing me to tighten the strings. It will have to do. I kinda loved being in his clothes, Peeta’s scent radiating around me and his warmth enveloping me.

Tonight is going to be a long night.

***

Peeta

As soon as I saw Katniss sitting quietly at the wooden table, munching on a cheese bun that I made, I knew I had to talk to her. Through her struggles to open the door and my giggling which wasn't hidden well, I couldn't be more in love with her. I never thought for a second that she would say yes to my proposal of coming upstairs and spending the night. The tinted blush on her cheeks is so adorable causing me to think of things I shouldn't.

I offered her my clothes and didn't even think of how irresistible she might look with them on. Well, shit.

I decided to cook Chicken Alfredo, seeing as she only ate a meager cheese bun and must be starving.

“Thank you again, Peeta,” I turn as I hear her say this, “for the clothes and letting me stay tonight and uh everything else,” she smiles.

God, I love that smile. It’s directed at me too. Can this day get any better?

That’s when I notice my oversized clothes on her slender body. The sight will never fade from my memory. She is sexy and breathtaking. I feel a sense of ownership because she is wearing my clothes. My Katniss. I feel a playful growl wander its way up into my throat and I quickly swallow it down. No need to scare her off, Peeta. Don’t be stupid.

“Y-yeah of course. I don’t mind one bit.”

She hops on the counter next to the stove as if it is an everyday occurrence. “Whatcha cooking? It smells divine,” she asks while her stomach rumbles.

I let out a snort, “Hungry are we?”

“Duh, I may be small but I will never pass up food.”

“Chicken Alfredo. I hope you enjoy it,” I respond. Then, I reach for the wooden spoon and dip it into the soft noodles wrapping them around it. I swerve it towards her mouth, a risky move, I know, and see a look of surprise spread across her elegant face. She opens her mouth slowly and sucks off every noodle playfully causing a twitch in my pants and a hunger in my stomach to form.

Katniss leans her head back and moans in delight from its taste.

“Peeta, this is delicious. Can you cook for me everyday?” she remarks with a glint in her eye.

“You wish,” laughter erupts from deep in my belly. I meant it, though. I would, Katniss, I would cook for you forever if I could. If only she knew.

Later, after dinner has been devoured and dishes are being washed, I hear a slight humming noise. It sounds like a distant memory embedded in my mind. That song, I know it. Katniss is washing dishes and I bump my shoulder against hers.

“That song. I’ve heard it before. What is it?”

“The Valley Song,” she turns the water off and gazes at me softly. Before I can respond she asks a follow up question. “Why did you push me off those yellow swings when we were younger?”

I racked my brain for the situation she was indicating. Oh, that day.

“Long story short, I have-had a slight crush on you and may have been trying to show off with my super strength.” At this, I lift my arms in a front double bicep position, showing off my “strength”. I kiss each bicep and hear a giggle slip out of Katniss. I turn my head and give her an inquisitive look. Neither of us can hold a straight face causing laughter to erupt between us like a volcano.

When she finally can breathe after laughing so terribly much, she responds, “I guess that makes sense, body builder.”

“Yeah right, if only.”

Instead of laughing, she peers at me silently, with an unreadable look on her face.

Later into the night on the couch with almost one season of Ozark under our belts and the popcorn bucket empty, I realize Katniss has dozed off on my shoulder. Her forehead isn't creased like it usually is during the day and that scowl that I have come to love has seamlessly disappeared. A tiny flicker of hope floods my senses. Many nights of Katniss curled up against me, me tucking her in our bed with a peck to her forehead, little feet pattering on the hardwood, maybe even the click of a dog's paws. If only this could come true, I sigh internally.

Resolute to enjoy this moment, I fulfill one of my imaginations. Carefully, wrapping my arms under her knees and her back I walk to the bedroom. She is laid down gently on the bed and I notice her plump red limps. Tiny puffs of hair escape her mouth causing tendrils and wisps of her long locks to float. I couldn’t imagine not loving this woman. She has turned my life upside down, for good.

What would it be like to memorize every facial expression she forms or to hug her large round belly filled with my kin, an Everdeen-Mellark. As I tuck her in, pondering these unrealistic thoughts, she stirs.

“Peeta?” the goddess faintly asks.

“Yes, my lov-Katniss,” I respond, almost slipping up, still overwhelmed by those dreamy thoughts.

She reached for my wrist and wraps her slender hand around it.

“Stay?”she murmurs, drowsily.

There is one, singular answer that can fulfill this question.

“Always,” I tell her.

Wrapping my arms around her in bed and kissing the top of her head lightly I realize something I could never let slip from my memory.

Even if Katniss and I are never what I wish, as long as she is in my life, a part of my heart and soul, I shall not want again. My love, my beauty, my Katniss flower.

***

Katniss

A kiss on the forehead and a warm man next to me. Who knew that would make me feel like I’m home. No, not just any man, Peeta. I couldn’t comprehend loving another man. Oh. My. God. I love him. I don’t know when, I certainly don’t know how, but I just do. A sleepy grin crosses my face as I slip into a soft sleep with the man I love by my side. Home isn't always a place but sometimes a person. People may enter your life unexpectedly and flip it upside down. You may even hate the person but one thing is for sure, forever and always, I’m glad it's him.

***

So that’s it? I can do an epilogue if you want it just let me know. It probably seems rushed but I don’t really care. This has been such a joy to write and I’m so so thankful to each and everyone of you for sticking around to the end. Also, did you enjoy Peeta’s perspective?

-xoxo Clara

[multific]

Soulmates

Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Soulmate AU!

Summary: Soulmates are real. But only men can feel them from the moment they see their partner. Women will only feel the connection when they get kissed by their soulmate.

 You envied men. It was so easy for them, they could just find their soulmate with one simple glance. Meanwhile, you, you had to wait.

It really sucked. And the fact that there were people who used this to get one night stands, disgusting.

You often wondered, why couldn’t both parties feel connection at the same time?

Why did women had to wait?

Gays were probably the luckiest.

Lesbians tried and many succeeded.

It felt like everyone was good at finding their partners, except you.

Every friend of yours found theirs already. Some even had children by now.

And there you were an office worker, alone in front of your desk. You wanted to find happiness, as did everyone else. But you weren’t desperate, there were times when you looked at other and envied them for their happiness, but it was only a natural reaction. You worked your way up in the company while others were having dates and weddings.

You felt like you achieved everything you could in regards to your career. You were one of the most important people in the building, you worked directly with the CEO who respected you in many ways.

Your income increased to the point where you got yourself a rather fine way of living. You bought everything you ever wanted. A house, a pet, designer clothes, after many years of using public transport, you finally had enough of the people and bought yourself a car and many more.

You lived the high life. But you worked for it.

You had a weekend off and decided to go to a nice spa hotel and relax, refresh and have a great time alone, away from work, family, friends and the amount of people that lived in the big city.

The hotel that you choose was in the mountains, had amazing view and the rooms were to die for, with a personal pool to every room, during the winter they had warm water in it, so the guests can use it.

Sounded like the perfect mini-vacation after working so hard.

The only problem was that you had to drive for four hours, up a mountain and the whole road was slippery due to the winter weather.

You drove always very cautiously.

It was your last ten minutes and you’d be finally at the hotel.

You were to cross a small village, turn left then a bit more forward and finally, you’d be there.

Unfortunately, when you stopped to let a pedestrian cross, the car behind you couldn’t stop in time and bumped into you. It was nothing serious since it wasn’t coming fast. Your car started to call the authorities, but you stopped it from doing so. You pulled the handbrake on and after you took a big breath, to calm yourself, you got out of the car.

The guy from the car behind you was already out and expecting the damage. When he noticed you, he stopped for a second then he immediately rushed to you.

“Are you hurt? I’m so sorry Miss, I saw you stop and the road is just bad and I couldn’t.”

“It’s all right. Things like this happen, the important thing is that no one is hurt.” you offered him a small smile.

Was he blushing?

“I’ll give you my insurance, one moment.” he got back to his car to get his details while you waited in the cold. Thank Gucci for those amazing fury warm coats. You got your phone to drive down his details before he came back.

Lucky for you the traffic in the village was very light, so you didn’t have to move the cars and you could speak there.

“Okay, my name is Harrison Osterfield, and my details are…”

“Got it. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’ll give you a call when I get an estimate and then we can figure things out.”

“S-sure. Thank you for not getting mad.”

“I kind of expected it. You know, slippery roads, new car, it was meant to happen. And I just knew that I wouldn’t be able to drive my new car without something happening to it.”

“I’m really really sorry.” he looked very apologetic and the fact that he was cute helped a lot with your calmness.

“I said its fine. We are not hurt, and that’s the most important a bumper can be replaced.”

After that, you took a few pictures and then both of you said your goodbyes.

Other than the minor incident, your weekend was perfect. The hotel was amazing. You had massages and even got yourself a nice manicure-pedicure treatment.

All in all, it was worth it.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about the guy. Harrison.

He had a nice accent as well. He was English and those eyes. But you couldn’t figure out why was he so shy at one moment than in the next so confident.

As you thought about it, he was only shy when he…

looked at you.

You sat up in bed.

“Don’t tell me. Is he my…. No.” You convinced yourself that you just imagined it.

He couldn’t be your soulmate, right?

***

Three days passed, and you finally had your estimate.

When you told about the incident to your boss, she laughed at the situation. But then she told you that she met her husband during a meeting. He accidentally spilled hot coffee on her and he apologized with a date. She got a kiss from him that night, a simple peck on the lips and it was enough. She felt the connection since then.

“Soulmates are interesting Y/N. Especially, how you meet them. Because even if your first impression of them is bad, they will steal your heart with a kiss.”

She also said that she hoped that it is him and you finally found him.

You texted Harrison during your lunch break.

Hey, it’s Y/N. I got the new bumper, I sent a picture of the bill, but you don’t have to worry about it. You seemed genuine and the accident wasn’t truly your fault. You don’t have to pay me back for it.

It only took him about five minutes to reply.

Hi! It’s Harrison, sorry, I’m at work right now. But I cannot leave you with that bill! I’ll pay for it, but I cannot give you it at once, can we make out a plan or something for weekly or monthly payments.

You thought about it for a second, you really didn’t want him to pay it, it’s not like you’d go bankrupt or anything. It just meant that you couldn’t buy the new fridge you wanted this month.

Can we meet somewhere? I’d rather speak in person. When do you finish work? I can get off early so I’ll be able to leave around four.

Maybe this way, you can find out if your assumption was right or not.

Sure! Meet me at…

***

He asked you to meet at a small café shop. It was a very cozy café with flowers and small decorations.

You sat down and soon a waiter came to pick up your order. You read his name tag.

Tom. And he had the same British accent as Harrison.

“Welcome to our shop, my name is Tom, what can I get you?”

“Do you have any specialties?”

“Yes, our cappuccino with vanilla or if you prefer tea, we have a new green tea from Singapore.”

“I’ll take the coffee please.”

“Sure, any dessert to go with it?”

“Yes, please, I’ll leave it up to you. Thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back with your order.”

Tom arrived back with your coffee and a slice of cake in a few minutes.

Harrison said that he would get off of work at five. You checked the time, it was a quarter to five.

You looked around the small café one more time, you noted the counter and all the different cake, cupcakes, and cookies on display, they were all Christmas themed, since it was near. You wished you’d known about the café before, you’d have loved to see the Halloween decorated ones.

You happily ate the delicious cake, but you didn’t have to wait long, as you saw Harrison walk out of the kitchen wearing an apron.

He smiled at you.

“Hi”

“Hi, so you work here!”

“Yes, I’m one of the owners and the pastry chef.”

“Really? Then I must say that this cake is the best I have ever had.”

“Thank you.”

Then an awkward silence came between you two. You went back to drink your coffee.

“So, about your bumper, I have to take responsibility. It was my fault that I bumped into you, I knew the road was slippery and I didn’t keep my distance.”

You offered him a smile.

“It’s fine, really. It wasn’t that bad either, you don’t need to stress it.”

“Yes, I have to! It was my fault! And I saw the bill, don’t tell me it wasn’t bad.”

“You see, I earn enough to afford it, I wouldn’t have bought such a car otherwise…. You know what? How about you pay me back, but not with money!” his eyes suddenly widened and that’s when you realized how bad your words sounded.

“No! No! Don’t think about that. I meant like… Bake me a cake, please. For Christmas. You see, we will have a little party in the office, and I bring the cake every year. I used to make it, but since my promotion, I don’t have much time so I just ordered it from a place, but it wasn’t too good. So, how about you make me a Cake for ten people, some cupcakes and maybe if you have the time a few cookies?”

“That’s…That’s a great idea, but it isn’t the value of the damage I caused.”

“Stop worrying about that! So, give me the goodies, and we are even fine?” you held your pinkie out for him as a promise. He, a bit hesitantly, but agreed in the end.

***

On the day of the party, he said he would deliver the sweets himself, so now you were waiting for him to call so you can pick it up.

But of course, meanwhile, your lovely co-workers were teasing you up and down about him.

“Is he cute?” many asked, and the answer was always, very.

Then, you got his call. You took the elevator and surely enough, he was standing right in front of the building with boxes in his hands.

“Harrison! Hi.” you called when you noticed he was paying more attention to the height of the building then you approaching him.

“Wow, you work here?”

“Yes.” you thought that he just realized how different the two of you were. Him, owning a shot and you working for a huge business, literally.

“I brought you everything you asked for, I’ll help you bring them in.” he said after he was finished admiring the tower, but as he turned his head and looked at you, he noticed that you weren’t wearing your usual clothes. It was a more casual look on you, and he liked it. “You look beautiful,” he said before he can even think.

“Thank you!”

During the elevator ride, silence was between the two of you, with only him and you there, you wondered if it would be fine to ask.

“H-Harrison, can I ask you something?” he looked at you, facing him, you took in his gorgeous sea-blue eyes. You blushed a little.

“Sure.”

“Is-Am I… how should I ask this? Are we- what flavor is the cake?” you couldn’t do it.

“Oh… Chocolate and vanilla.” he looked, disappointed?

The elevator came to a stop.

“OH Y/N’s back! And look she brought someone!”

“Yes, this is Harrison, he made the sweets for us.”

“Good, good. Now, will you stay and celebrate with us, Harrison?”

“I don’t think he wants to, but if you do…it is fine…”

He ended up staying. Thankfully no one mentioned that they knew who he was. Harrison looked like he enjoyed himself.

You didn’t notice the time and when it was time to leave, you offered Harrison a ride, which he took.

So now, you were in the car with the man you thought might be your soulmate, other than that, you barely knew anything about him, but the way he looked at you, you wanted to find out the reason behind it.

“Turn left here. We are nearly there,” he instructed.

“Okay. Oh, you live close to the shop.”

“Yeah, it’s more convenient this way. That’s it with the blue fence. You can stop there.” he pointed at a parking space.”

After you stopped you thought he might get out fast and just forget you, but no, he just sat there, deep in thought. Finally, he decided to speak up.

“You know, I never found it to be fair. This whole soulmate-thing. I always wanted that both men and women would feel the start of the connection at the same. A-and that day, when I ran into you, I just wasn’t expecting it. For it to happen this way.” he let out a laugh, you decided to just stay silent and let him finish. “Leave it to me to find you like this. I was terrified, running into such a car, I thought I will pay with my life. But instead of a thug or some mobster, you got out and smiled. Now I know what that feeling is when others say ‘they just knew’ because I did too. When I saw you… I just knew. You think I’m weird right?” he laughed at himself. He didn’t expect an answer though.

“No. You are not weird. I somehow knew as well. Just the way you’d look at me, it was pretty obvious, but I didn’t want to let myself believe in dreams. But now, you confirmed them for me.” you smiled at him a genuine, sweet smile. He finally looked at you.

“What did you think of me when you first saw me?”

“Honestly?” he gave a nod, yes. “My exact thoughts were ‘Wow, it’s not fair for a man to have such beautiful eyes.’ and then I went to your shop. And I felt like it was just like you. With the flowers and plants. That baby blue wall. The pictures on the wall. Even the dark wood for the display. It was like a piece of you. But we can only be sure if you kiss me.”

He started to lean over and close his eyes. But you stopped him.

“Not here, mister. Maybe bring me on a date, Friday? Sound good? At eight? How about the park near here? They have a really good bar there, the wine and the cocktails just amazing.”

“Yeah, right sorry. I’m the man, I’m supposed to say these things.”

“Who says?”

“Um… masculinity?” you laughed at his answer.

“Right, so drinks there and maybe but only if I truly like you, you can kiss me in front of the pond.”

You looked into his eyes and they were full of determination. He wanted to prove a point and make you like him, even before the soulmate connection.

“Fine by me. Be prepared to be blown away. I’m quite the romantic type.”

“I’m more than ready. Text me.” you said as you kissed him on the cheek.

“I will.”

***

Friday evening came.

It was currently almost midnight and you may or may not be tipsy with Harrison helping you walk straight. The problem? You were a rather horny drunk.

“I told you the wine is gooood.”

“I was. But it was expensive as hell.”

“Yeah, my taste is rather… what’s the word?”

“Fancy?”

“YES! Fancy, like me.”

“Sure is, Love.”

“Oooooh, do that again!”

“Hm?”

“Call me Love again and I will lose my panties right here, right now. With that accent and lipppps and eyes. How can you be real? WAIT are you an alien? Did someone sent you for me?”

“No, Love.” he whispered the last word into your ear, making you shiver in the winter evening.

Suddenly you stopped, but Harrison didn’t notice for a minute. The next thing he knew your hand was inside his jacket’s pocket.

“Where to now?” you asked.

“To the pond. You said I can kiss you there.”

“I said maybe Mr. Gorgeous Eyes.”

“Is there anything else you like about me besides my eye colour?”

“Hmmm…. Lips, jawline. But you are funny, I nearly peed myself in there. I like how much patience and affection you have for others and me. And I also happen to like your butt. OH OH and those biceps….hmmm.” you let out a sigh. “HEY and what about you, what do you like about me? Since it seems like you are already connected to me.”

He started walking again before he answered.

“I love your laugh. Your smile is beautiful it brightens up the room. I love how smooth your hair looks even if I never touched it. And you know. You are so fucking sexy, it drives me wild.”

“Gooood. At least I know Chanel is worth its money.”

“Oh please, even with a paper bag on, you’d look like a Goddess.”

You didn’t even notice that when he stopped this time, it was right by the pond. You blushed a little.

No words were spoken after that. There was no need as he leaned down to your level and captured your lips with his.

It was a simple kiss. Like a looong peck.

And that’s when you felt it. As soon as his soft lips connected with yours, your heart also did with his.

The feelings confused you a little. It was love, passion, lust, affection, and longing at the same time.

When he pulled away all you could do was look into his eyes, the moon and the lights around the park reflected on the surface of the pond which gave his face light. Only a second passed before you pulled him in for more, but this one was different. This one was full of passion. This was a kiss between two souls who had finally became one.

When you ran out of breath you pulled away from him, he gave out a groan of dissatisfaction. You hugged him with your head on his chest.

“So this is how it feels like.”

“Pretty good right?”

“Amazing.”

A few minutes of hugging passed and you became tired.

“Can you take me home?” you asked him.

“Sure, where do you live?” you lifted your hand and pointed at a skyscraper.

“Up there.”

“Very funny, Y/N.”

“I’m not joking! I live THERE!”

“So, you are telling me that you drive an expensive car around, have designer clothes and you live in a penthouse up THERE?”

“Yessss, and I love you.” his heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too. Let me kiss you again.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

And after another hot kiss, you pulled back and started to walk away from him.

“It’s cold, let go home.” you said as you stopped and turned back for him. You put your hands into your pockets and waited for him. When he mimicked your movement and placed his hand into his pockets, you smirked and started to walk.

Harrison became confused, something was in his pocket. He couldn’t help but look at the thing with opened mouth and round eyes.

A thong.

“I told you. Calling me Love without any consequence? I think not.”

He placed the clothing back to his pocket and jogged to catch up to you.

“Love” he whispered into your ear, as you turned your head, he gave you a final kiss.

Soulmates or not, you definitely loved this guy.

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[magnoliawhetstone]

h e a d c a n o n s, pt. 1

( tw: mentions of eating disorder )

When Lia is drunk/ tipsy she likes to act our favorite movie scenes—even if she’s alone.  Most recently was the titanic scene (where she also got her knee suck in the balcony). She can quote all of the legally blonde courtroom scene and definitely knows the mean girls Christmas dance as well.

When Lia bakes, she has this small habit of humming or singing when she does so. Interestingly enough, for how involved baking is, she’d done it for so long she’s relatively good at shutting her brain down for a while when she does it. Or, at least, it takes all her energy to bake instead of overthink. It’s why she stress bakes so frequently and it’s also why she hums/sings when she does it. It’s mindless and she’d be embarrassed if anyone heard it–but she doesn’t always realize she’s doing it.

Surprisingly, while Lia’s favorite book is Pride and Prejudice, her favorite movie is Love Actually. She can quote most of the movie–as she can with most things she loves–and her favorite scene is when Hugh Grant dances to “Jump (For My Love)” by the Pointed Sisters. This is another scene she sometimes recreates when drunk.

Lia is not the biggest fan of Harry Potter. She doesn’t even know what house she’s in (its Ravenclaw but she can’t remember that). She never got into the series, never found it to be that interesting–magic didn’t quench her thirst the way some other books did…

Yes, that’s right. Magnolia Barnes was absolutely a Twi-Hard. You could not pull her away from these books–it was even worse since, at age 18, you’d think she would have had better taste. But no, she was #TeamJacob all the way. And yes, she did go see the movies when they came out. And yes, she did cry at the end. Don’t judge her.

Lia loves watching home renovation shows, though she literally has no reason to watch the show. She’s never had to do a home reno in her life. But she likes to imagine a day when she would–she thinks she’d be quite good at it. Sometimes about being able to use her hands in a meaningful way strikes her as soothing–its why she likes baking so much. She doesn’t have proof she’d be good at it, but she has a feeling she’d be pretty good with her hands if she can make delicate pastries so well.

Lia loves college football. Like absolutely adores it. Big Clemson gal, Tiger Rag is her jam. She remembered spending fall weekends at their Lake Keowee home so they could easily drive over to Clemson and go to a home game. Hates the Gamecocks with a passion. Rivalry weekend was her favorite time of year growing up–it was so full of excitement and energy. In fact, the most heated you might ever see Lia out of an argument is walking a Clemson football game. And yes she knows exactly what’s going on down on the field and if you ask her one more time if she’s sure–she will throw a piece of pie in your face.

Speaking of Clemson, Lia wanted to go there for college–get her degree in English. But she also had high dreams to be the baton twirler on the field–the one who dots the i with whatever family they’re celebrating that day in the pregame ceremony? Yeah, she wanted that. She thought that maybe she could mix the two worlds of hers, her two areas of interest–but no, that was never to be the case.

Lia grew up going to State fairs every summer–but never an amusement or theme park. She has never been to a planetarium, and her first trip to an Aquarium was with Beckett. Her first trip to a Zoo was with Ryder. So sure she’s ridden some rides, but it’s never been like most people have. It’s her dream to go to DisneyWorld one day and somehow, someway, stay in the Cinderella Suite. she’s watched enough youtube videos to know that not one gets to stay there but contest winners and celebrities, but still–a girl can dream.

While her peers took their vacations in Paris, Nice, Monaco and Italy, Lia’s father preferred north–like Amsterdam. Which, to be fair, was really very nice and Lia liked going. She even had a friend, Tess, who she’d hang out with when they would go on holiday as they called it. Tess was cool–she was into collecting model trains and really liked to read also. But then Tess’s parents sent her to boarding school after they had found out that she had been chatting with people online that she shouldn’t have been. Lia thought that sounded awfully harsh and hoped her parents would never do something like that to her. (Oh, irony)

When she’s sick, she doesn’t want chicken noodle soup, she wants wonton soup. Why? She doesn’t know, but she’s never liked chicken noodle soup. She thinks its the mushy carrots and celery. But wonton soup is essentially the same thing, but with a wonton and better flavor. She likes hers with spinach.

If toast is cut diagonal, she can’t eat it. Vertical squad for the win.

Big Bon Appetit fan. The quickest way to make her smile is to make her watch an episode of “one of everything” or “gourmet makes”. she might have a small crush on alex delany but we don’t talk about that.

Lia believe in aliens but not ghosts. She’s not big on conspiracy theories either–but she might be tempted by the stories at Denver Intentional Airport. She just can’t accept that humans are the only living things in the universe. That’s a lot for her–but she doesn’t go actively searching for them. Ghosts, on the other hand–she just never believed in them. Why would anyone want to haunt someone? Seemed like a weird power play to her. And no, despite what some people at the Malnati think, the moon is not made of cheese.

Lia is obsessed with spreadsheets. If you asked her what the dorkiest thing about her was–she’d tell you it was her planner and spreadsheets. She has a spreadsheet for probably every aspect of her life. her planner–which is really a bullet journal–is how she keeps track of things when she can’t get on her computer, but she has one for chores, her books, work, her bucket list, hell–even a bachelorette watch party she had a few years ago. She loves being organized.

Office supplies are her kryptonite. She absolutely loves blank notebooks and pens. She has a favorite pen for different things. Pentel RSVP RT Retractable Ball Point in black for everyday items, Staedleter fine tips felt pens for her bullet journal, sharpie pens for when she wants her notes to stand out, Zebra Mildliner for headers in her bullet journal or giving the pages shape. She is incredible persnickety on who can borrow what pen, and even keeps less important pens in her pencil bag just to lend out. And under very few circumstances will you ever see Magnolia Barnes using a pencil unless she has been required too. She hates the darn things.

Lia doesn’t swear–her mother taught her ladies don’t swear and while she doesn’t believe language as a gatekeeper for femininity anymore, the expectation still holds. So if you do hear her use a curse word, something is very very wrong.

Go to coffee order, you ask? Easy. Grande White Chocolate Peppermint Mocha with Blonde Espresso and Almondmilk and yes whipped cream. Sometimes she’ll get it with Raspberry instead. If its iced, it’s a tall and no whipped cream. However, she can also be bought over with a Venti Iced Guava Tea Lemonade with 8 pumps sweetener.

Lia has seen the Chatworth House–the house used as Pemberly in the Kiera Knightly version of Pride and Prejudice. While its not her all time favorite movie, she sure loves it still and begged her parents to take her one summer. They relented and it was everything she had dreamed of seeing.

It’s well known that Lia cannot dance–she often tells people she can only line dance and Viennese Walz, and the former only happens when she’s tipsy on PBRs.

Lia loves sleeping with windows open because she can’t sleep in silence. The white noise of the city helps relax her and and makes her sleep easier.

However, she must read in silence–any noise will distract her and she gets relatively grumpy if anyone interrupts her reading. She also adores reading by a window. She likes the way the natural lights illuminates the pages.

Words are some of Lia’s favorite things–she thinks they’re magic. So loves the way they sound and likes to think about the way they feel in her mouth and how they roll off the tongue. She does her best to take her time when speaking too–because if words are so important, its better to get them right the first time. (Although perhaps she would learn that getting it right may not always be nearly as important as saying something at all).

(tw: eating disorder) Not many people know this, but after the book incident, Lia has begun to go to therapy. Her counselor, Tonya, has been helping her try to work through what things are Lia and what things are Lia’s mother. They haven’t gotten to the eating disorder conversation yet–and Lia dreads it. because Lia has never used the term out loud–in fact, the only time it was ever spoken was by the doctor the night of the incident. She has never named it and technically never claimed it out loud–though she knows its true in her heart.

Lia hates pickles. Don’t know why, but she thinks they are gross. Also parmesan cheese.

Magnolia loves horses–perhaps not the extend of others, but she had grown up riding them and when she rode them, she always sensed a freedom that was just out of reach at home. Perhaps that was because who was always riding wit her, but she doesn’t like to dive deep into that. It complicates things (that maybe needed to be complicated, just sayin’). Leaving her childhood horse Butternut was like leaving a pet (something the Barnes did not have as Lia grew up). Butternut and her went on a lot of adventures together, usually along side Buttersquash and Jack. It was good squad.

Lia’ favorite dessert is Mrs. Whetstone’s peach cobbler–and she has pour her life’s work into recreating it since she never asked for the recipe before she left. Every time she tries, she feels like she gets a little closer, but its never quite right. But it does remind her of home and its one of those memories she loves dearly. Anyone who asks her, though, what her favorite dessert is, she’ll say cheesecake because nothing even compares in her mind to that cobbler and she doesn’t want something to try to do something that will never reach what she expects. And she does love cheesecake.

Favorite flavor of yogurt? Chobani Raspberry Lemonade. Its only available in the summertime, but boy is it worth the wait.

[dorigvbcorvis]

The French Horn

A Second Season Glee Story

CHAPTER 3: THE SECRETS WE KEEP - FROM OURSELVES IF NECESSARY

The Muse behind this story is Kurt’s French Horn tee-shirt.  Seen here in ‘The Power of Madonna’ it was also worn in ‘Grilled Cheesus’ - My head Canon since seeing Kurt wear the shirt twice is that Kurt had once played the horn. This is a story that addresses why Kurt quit playing

NOTES:

Since originally this chapter had graphic depictions of high school bullying and the use of homophobic slurs I felt that this might be too sensitive and/or could be a trigger for some and for this reason I split the chapter into three pieces CHAPTER 4 will post likely to my Live Journal or possibly A03 

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3: The Secrets We Keep…From Ourselves If Necessary

Kurt felt his world starting to fold in on itself the moment he stepped outside Dr. Thompson’s office. His hand went to his chest as it tightened - Each step he felt his body become increasingly shaky- more clammy, his legs were like lead, and yet chief among these growing concerns for the epicene young man was the fact that the perspiration dripping from his forehead was now leaching product down his face. For him it was the worst; it meant he had to fight like mad the urge to wipe away the whole mess from his eyes with his sleeve of his wool-blend blazer - If he was in his father’s garage in his work coveralls this would be no problem….

But here at Dalton he still needed his uniform one more day as it was midday Thursday. Oh great! he said literally dripping now - He knew he had to find something to wipe the mess away - but he had nothing, not even a pocket square.

Everything was spearheading into a perfect storm and like added water Kurt had come to an icy cold realization that the last time he felt this badly it was just after learning Korofsky had won his appeal and was returning to McKinley. Kurt knew it made little sense to believe Korofski was behind his current malaise - For one the guy would never drive two hours out his way just to seek him out when it was more likely the guy would have just move on to another target. Deep down It was Kurt’s personal hope that somewhere in the whole f***ed up mess that Korofski had just found peace with himself - So where did that put him? 

Stalled…stalled by what?  fear? Then if fear, what was he was afraid of? And just like that he was back to square one trying to figure it all out.

Shit, Kurt uttered finally wiping the mix of sweat and hair product away with the sleeve of his blazer He had to - It had gotten that bad.

As much as fear made sense to Kurt he quickly ruled this out with the reasoning that fear was something he should have had before meeting with Dr. Thompson not afterwards. Yet looking back at Thompson’s closed office door Kurt knew Thompson was the only thing different in his routine - So what was it about him?

Maybe it was it bringing up his mother’s death and because of this having to stay back a year when he was in the third grade…

‘No, no,’ Kurt shook his head: ruling this out. It couldn’t be this. There had been countless times he had shared how he didn’t have a mom - and sure this often bought back heart ache and tears - He could not recall a time this ever make him feel this physically ill.

Kurt’s head started to swim with racing thoughts he didn’t want. If he were at home right about he was sure nothing at all would be stopping him from numbing his thoughts with alcohol – His Aunt Mildred’s variation on a Tom Collins that entailed mixing champagne with gin came to mind. “Except news-flash Kurt,” Kurt made a harsh point to informed himself. “You only just came off probation…Something like getting drunk at Dalton is not just dumb but you’ll surely get yourself put back on probation or worse get yourself expelled.’ This self-admonishing only made things worse and he still wasn’t any closer to knowing what it was exactly that was making him he feel like crap and he was running out of ideas.

The only thing Kurt knew looking at his watch was that the lunch hour had almost slipped away completely without him eating a thing. This revelation made Kurt giggled with a sad laugh - ‘Was is it really that simple? Was this only because he had skipped a meal?’ He of course remembered when he and Mercedes were in The Cheerios and how Mercedes face planted in the middle of the cafeteria’s from not eating. Low blood sugar now seemed plausible and it had a lot of the same symptoms. This was enough to point his feet in the direction of the cafeteria in hopes that this late the dining hall would still be open. Kurt quickened his steps fearing this would indeed be the case.

Just as he expected- Only the cleaning crew was in the hall. Gone was everyone else. He walked past a crew bussing tables with what dishes still remained on his way to the cafeteria itself only to find the cleaning crew had already switch off the heated buffet tables and removed the food trays leaving nothing but lukewarm baths of water. Even the salad bar had been gutted…but what really sucked was The desert case had been completely emptied out he could have totally gone for comfort-food in the wondrous baked pastry form.

“I’m not going to catch a break am I?” It was a loud enough statement for him to start to fume.  That was until one of the headphone wearing cleanup workers stopped and pointed out the three tiered basket display at the end of the counter.

 “Thanks,” Kurt said to the worker

The worker only nodded and rolled his mop bucket out of Kurt’s way

 The worker was right - It hadn’t been cleared out yet. Five weeks of being at Dalton Kurt knew Sandwiches had always been placed in the bottom basket, chips and pretzels in middle basket, and fruit in the top basket. ‘It would have to do,’ He told himself as he rifled through saran wrapped sandwiches Only here too he found his run of bad luck had continued because every last one of them was Ham and Cheese sandwich - Kurt uttered an Ugg tossing back the of the lot he has looked at - He absolutely loathed processed deli ham he found it too salty and that emulsified gelatin sort of grossed him out. If it was to be ham he preferred a slow cooked ham leg that had been properly cloved or pork tenderloin medallions glazed in a sesame ginger sauce and then that had been grilled to perfection …and then he would not ever add cheese.  His stomach growled thinking of food but he didn’t seem to be catching any luck.

He knew it was his own damn fault He should have eaten first and then gone to see Thompson - ‘actually,’ Kurt thought internally correcting himself - ‘He shouldn’t have gone to see Thompson at all - That way he never would have spilled the beans and made himself feel like crap now…Now was that really what was wrong?’

‘Oh crap,’ He knew now. While it bothered him that any additional meeting with Thompson he would end up letting the man know everything - What was really bothering him; the brass tacks of it all, was the risk of his dad finding out all the things he kept from him. It would kill him.  Suddenly Kurt wasn’t hungry anymore he tossed back the bag of sun chips before picking it up again plus an apple from the top basket.  Kurt knew it would be six hours until dinner service.

Kurt quickly departed the food area to find a seat the worker with his mop moved in behind Kurt to mop the floors like they had been only waiting for him to leave.

Kurt tried not to let this too bother him the guy after all pointed out the chips….but the thin irony of it all was feeling like every last thing in the world was eating at him while he went without anything to eat himself.

Kurt was just about to sink his teeth into his apple when he heard Blaine call out for him. And as much as he was secretly crushing hard on the black haired boy with the killer tenor voice the last thing Kurt wanted was for Blaine to see him like this - So exposed, so vulnerable with his heart pounded in his chest like something was terribly-terribly wrong.  Blaine called to Kurt with a tone that was both happy and relieved to see him. “So it’s true -Trent said he saw you in here. I totally looked for you everywhere during lunch.”

“Except where I was,” Kurt blurted, before instantly regretted it. He didn’t know why he said it out loud. “I had to see Dr. Thompson.” Kurt now said, offering up the truth.

The explanation alone gave Blaine pause. He knew Dr. Thompson and how most at Dalton liked the man- It was just as well known how many emerged from his office in tears either because they had lost their scholarship or because they had to see Dr. Thompson in the capacity of the school’s psychologist…given his own bout with the man and how similar Kurt’s situation mirrored his own it was much too likely this was how it was with Kurt now but it wasn’t until Blaine actually looked at Kurt did his happy go lucky demeanor change… “My God, are you alright? - It looks like you’ve been crying “

“It’s nothing,” Kurt said defensively blowing off the question.

Blaine wasn’t about to buy Kurt’s write-off noting how he could “Totally see your eyes”

Caught Kurt was back peddling “What I meant was, I don’t want to talk about it and I kind-of want to be alone right now” this much was true.

Blaine frowns… ”Fine,” he says, after a beat of feeling stunned.  But then he adds “But let me at least tell you why I was looking for you.”

All Kurt had to do was look at Blaine sitting in front of him hazel eyes looking like a lost puppy for him to cave. “Okay - You win. Why were you looking for me?”

“I got comp tickets for my King’s Island gig - Dad called right after our duet in the Commons Room - He has to fly to New York on business so he can’t go.” Blaine sets a King’s Island admissions ticket down on the table and pushed it towards Kurt - It’s yours if you want it” then he adds with a high brow flourish Call it a Thank You for our practice session last night” Blaine returns back to common speech for the details “The plan is Mom is gonna pick me up Friday to drive me there. We’ll probably stay a couple nights in Cincinnati and come back on Sunday”

Kurt silently cursed the rotten timing of how in a heartbeat he would go see Blaine and spending two nights in a hotel with Blaine? …In the same room?  Kurt was kicking himself. “I-I cant,”‘ Kurt said, biting his tongue in protest. “Friday is dinner night - I also have these damn papers my dad needs to sign.”

“What are those?” Blaine asked, suddenly taking notice of the stack of papers sitting on the table next to Kurt’s arm.

“One is for a test I need to take…” Kurt trails off “The others…” Kirk’s voice breaks and wavers as he starts over… “The others are because Thompson thinks I should see someone over what happened”

Blaine was nodding knowingly. “Yeah, he was like that with me last year…But he’s good. He’ll listen…But…you don’t want to hear that do you?” Blaine saw Kurt didn’t seem to be listening.

“It’s not that, not really - It’s complicated - It’s why I have to go home when I so much rather go with you and not have to bothered with this - It’s just horrible timing and rotten luck. And - I am sorry”

Blaine shook his head, Kurt’s apology wasn’t needed - He knew he would have no trouble finding another to go in Kurt’s place. It was that he was just as sorry it wouldn’t be Kurt joining him.. He also heard the hurt in Kurt’s voice so he knew it wasn’t out of personal choice.  It was why he hesitate to go any further talking about Thompson or his King’s Island gig - Instead the first words out of his mouth are only about the test. “Haven’t you taken enough tests? - I mean when I came here I didn’t have it anywhere near as bad as you had it” he looks again at the stack of papers and corrects himself saying: “….still have it”

“That’s because you came here as a sophomore” The voice seemed to come out of nowhere.  Both boys look up to see that Wes was now standing at the table’s edge. Wes was still talking “Kurt came here as a junior, and everybody here knows that’s the year they get you: SATs, Subject Tests, AP Exams….” Kurt’s eyes had widened hearing what still remained. Wes switches to a more personal note with Kurt and asks “Did everything go ok with Dr. Thompson?”

“Yeah, he just wanted me to take some cognitive test” Kurt answered, deliberately stopping short of repeating the bit about Thompson also wanting him to seek counseling..

“Very well. You boys need to finish up here and get to class.” Wes starts to walk away before turning back. Oh, and don’t forget we have a double practice meeting today.”

“Through dinner?” Kurt asks with the kind tone in his voice that would let anybody know he wouldn’t liking the answer if it was to be yes.

Blaine was already jumping to Kurt’s defense. “He’s kidding!” Blaine exclaimed, placing a comradic arm around Kurt’s neck like they both in were in sync while he emphatically added: “We’ll be there!”

Wes raised an eyebrow but he was also a perceptive young man, he knew enough to guess what was behind Kurt’s objection. With a shrug he said. “We’ll order pizza like we always do when our practice cuts through dinner”

It was just enough to make Kurt reply with a simple relieved “Oh?”

“Now you two should really get to class. The Warblers have a reputation to up hold.”

“What kind of test did you say?” Blaine asks wondering if he would be someday be taking the same test.

“It’s called the CogAt - Apparently I was supposed to have already taken it. But I never did. That’s Public Schools for you - gotta love that attention to detail.”

“You’re smart,” Blaine insists like it’s known statement of fact.. “You’ll probably ace it”

“I’m not that smart”

“Yeah, you kind-of are,” Blaine reaffirms with a warm smile that could melt butter. “It’s one of the things I like best about you.”

Kurt manages a halfway smile. He knew there was no ‘there’ yet between them but he loved it when Blaine flirted – It made him believe that one day there could be.

“Well, you heard the man,” Blaine said, standing up.

“Where to?” Kurt asked, also getting up out of his seat and placing his paperwork in his satchel along with his apple and unopened bag of chips.

“I have Algebra” Blaine answered, promptly. “You?”

“World History - I actually think today might be the day I am finally caught up with the class.”

“You’ve been working on that hard enough.”

Kurt pursed his lips - He wasn’t sure if what Blaine said was meant to be a jab or not.

Blaine was already sheepishly offering a correction. “What I meant to say is I hope whatever it is getting you down - I hope it passes”

Kurt drew a hard breath trying to hide his feelings he managed to nod.

The boys left the dining hall not saying much else. They proceeded down two long corridors to the section of Dalton where the classrooms were. Kurt watched Blaine turn down the maths wing “I’ll see you after class,” Blaine said, with one last look back. He then proceeded turning the door knob to his math class and walking in.

As the door closed Kurt suddenly knew he was never going to make it to history… He went straight to the nearest bathroom to throw up the contents of his stomach which under the circumstances wasn’t a whole lot. When he finally had stopped he washed his face. He looked up from the sink, to the mirror mounted above it not at all liking the young man in the mirror staring back at him. Not even a little.

Maybe it was because he was in a restroom - maybe it was because he was dripping with perspiration…or maybe simply after two years it was bound to resurface but standing there looking at himself in the mirror Kurt’s memories came flooding back and covering his face he began to sob.

The pee filled balloons didn’t end with him being chased off the football field - No, That was where it began - It started back up again after the jocks followed him into the same bathroom.

[champagnedreams]

End of Summer

The summer was officially over. The first day of the new year was effectively tomorrow. Unlike most of the students at EHS, Nari lived in Geneva. Because of that, it really was not too hard for her to set up her room and did not need to come to EHS a few days earlier to do so. Not that she had too much stuff to begin with anyway. But that was besides the point. Having already set up her room, Nari decided to spend her last few days of summer with her aunt Valentina, helping her as she usually did at her café, Sternenlicht.

Sternenlicht was Valentina’s café. Valentina had set it up about 15 odd years ago, when Nari was still quite young. Young enough that her adopted mother, Sofia was still in the picture. Nari grew up helping Valentina run the café of her dreams. She had always wanted to run a café, and when she had earned enough, she promptly quit her job at the bank. Valentina had always hated that job and frequently described it as a “soul-sucking profession.” When she ammased enough savings, Valentina bought a small café. It was quite run down when Valentina bought it, but she instantly fell in love with the location. She loved the quiet, cobble-stone street it was located on. She also loved the fact that the café had a small apartment above it, which made it a perfect place for Valentina and a young Nari to live in. Over the course of the years, Nari and Valentina fixed up the café’s interiors and eventually, had a successful café. The café was known for its baked goods and cakes, although they made great coffee as well. Most of their business was during the summer when tourists frequented Geneva. Because of this, Valentina encouraged Sofia to go to EHS when she was offered the scholarship, knowing that she would not be as busy during the rest of the year. And while Nari loved her aunt for sending her to EHS, she still missed Sternenlicht dearly.

Seeing her bus stop approach, Nari quickly snapped out of her thoughts and stood up, walking to the front of the bus. A few seconds later, she stepped off the bus, waving goodbye to the conductor. After doing so, Nari turned around and began to walk down the street. The café was a short walk from the bus stop. Within 10 minutes, Nari would arrive. But as she did, Nari relished the familiar streets of the neighborhood she grew up in- old, Swiss chalet-style buildings, cobble-stone pathways filled with tourists and shopkeepers, bustling storefronts selling everything from flowers to clothes, food, wine, and chocolates. Smiling and waving at familiar faces, Nari reached the café. As soon as she saw the exterior of Sternenlicht, a wide smile broke out across Nari’s lips. The three outdoor cast-iron tables were occupied by groups of young people drinking coffee and eating various baked goods. Inside, all of the café’s tables were occupied. A group of customers were collected by the bakery, curiously browsing the café’s selection of freshly baked breads and cakes. A small line of 3 people patiently stood for their turn by the cashier. Nari’s eyes carefully surveyed the café for her aunt and when she could not see her, Nari knew it was time for her to go back into the kitchen. Nari knew that her aunt would most certainly be found there, and she was right.

Walking back, Nari pushed open the doors to the kitchen and there was her aunt. Valentina stood behind the counter, wearing her apron, her long blonde hair tied up tightly as she kneaded the dough with great concentration. Valentina had not even noticed Nari enter the kitchen. Behind Valentina, a group of 2 chefs worked to make various baked goods- taking out bread and tarts from the oven, icing cakes and pastries, etc. Nari waved at them with a smile before walking over to her aunt, who still had not noticed her. Wanting to take advantage of this, Nari walked as quietly as she could and hovered her palm over the dough her aunt was kneading. For a second, Valentina was stunned. But she quickly recovered and when she did, a smile broke out across her lips as well. Letting out a light laugh, Valentina quickly hugged Nari, careful not to let her dough-covered palms touch Nari’s clothes or hair.

“Hello love, I didn’t know you were coming today,” Valentina greeted.

Nari grinned in response. “I know,” she admitted. “I thought I’d surprise you and see if you needed any help today.”

Valentina smiled in response as she returned to kneading the dough. “Well you certainly did surprise me,” she admitted. “But love, I don’t need any help today. You’ve worked hard enough all summer as it is. It’s your turn to enjoy and relax a bit,” Valentina continued. “Aren’t your friends back yet?” she asked.

Nari shook her head lightly in denial. “Not yet,” she admitted. “I think they’re all coming next week- Kat might come earlier though, but I am not too sure,” she explained.

Valentina nodded as she listened to Nari. “And what about that boy?” she asked cheekily.

Nari rolled her eyes at her aunt’s reaction. “Aunt Val, I already told you, Henri’s just a friend. Besides, I think he went back to Sweden until school starts back up again,” she explained.

Valentina rolled her eyes lightly at Nari. “Sure, he is,” she commented dryly.

“He is!” Nari insisted with a grin. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be against me dating?” she teased.

Valentina rolled her eyes at that. “I should be, but I know I raised you to be smart enough to know what are the bad apples so to speak,” she replied, as she placed the kneaded dough in a bowl.

Nari nodded with a grin. “You sure did,” she admitted.

As a child, Valentina had never been overprotective towards Nari. Nor had she been especially strict. However, Valentina had taught Nari how to read people at a young age. She had taught her how to distinguish between trouble and kind people, and that was one of the most valuable lessons Nari had ever learned. It was because of Valentina that Nari was able to navigate EHS as well as she had done so far. Nari to be honest, was one of the few students at EHS who has not involved in any drama. While a scholarship student, she got on well with almost everyone-those on scholarships like her, and those who weren’t either. She also was excellent at navigating her way out of unnecessary drama and scandal. It was because of this that Nari was really on good terms with almost everyone at EHS.

“Anyway,” Valentina began. “Since you are here, have you eaten?” she asked, as she put away the bowl of dough to rest.

Nari nodded lightly in response. “Yes, I had a fruit on my way here,” she explained as she watched her aunt roll her eyes. “Fruits are snacks not meals,” Valentina retorted quickly, reaching for a freshly baked croissant, fresh from the oven. Removing it delicately from the hot pan, she placed it on a plate, accompanied by some fresh butter and blueberry jam. “Eat,” she ordered Nari as she handed her the plate. Nari nodded in response with a grin. The scent of the freshly baked croissant was addictive.  She could smell the butter in the air. She could see the steam seeping from the baked pastry and the sight of it was almost irresistible to her. Once it cooled a little, Nari carefully picked up the croissant and took a small bite of it- she could hear the crunch of the pastry and could feel the pastry dissolve on her tongue. It was beyond delicious.

“This is so good,” Nari spoke, her eyes closed as she savored the taste of the croissant.

Valentina grinned in response. “Good, I’m glad,” she responded as she watched Nari eat the croissant.

“Tell me when your friends come back. I’ll bring by a basket of croissants and cakes for them,” she offered as Nari nodded. “Luca would legitimately love you for that,” Nari commented between bites of croissants. Valentina laughed lightly at that.

“Do you want another one?” Valentina asked as Nari shook her head lightly in denial. “No,” she admitted. “This is enough for now,” she added as she moved to tie her hair back. Carefully looking around the room, Nari walked to pick up her apron hanging from the wall. Tying it, she turned to her aunt. “So, what do you need me to do today?” she asked.

Valentina rolled her eyes lightly at her niece. “Love, I said take the day off. You don’t need to help me today- Christopher and John are here,” she explained, motioning to the two chefs in the kitchen who grinned at Nari. Nari, grinned at them in return too. “I know,” she admitted turning to face her aunt. “But I want to, you know how much I love baking,” she added as Valentina nodded with a light laugh. “I certainly do,” she agreed. Nari nodded in response with a grin. “So, let me help you,” she began. “It’s not like I have anything else particularly pressing to do- none of my friends are here anyway,” she admitted.

Valentina nodded as she heard Nari. “Fine,” she responded. “Do you want to help me with the tarts then?” she asked. Nari nodded excitedly with a wide grin. “of course!” she admitted enthusiastically. “What tarts by the way?” she asked.

Valentina grinned at her niece’s enthusiasm and gestured to a tray of strawberry tarts which were to be placed in the display case next. “We just got the freshest strawberries, so I thought I’d make strawberry tarts and a vanilla-strawberry cake,” Valentina explained. Nari nodded excitedly. “That sounds amazing!” she admitted. Valentina laughed at Nari’s response lightly. “It is,” she admitted.

“So, do you want to do the tart or the cake” Valentina asked. “I can do the tarts and help you with the cake when I’m done,” Nari responded. Valentina nodded at Nari’s response. “Alright,” she replied with a smile.

A few moments later, Nari was busy measuring ingredients for the strawberry tart filling, while Valentina began shaping more breads from the dough, she had previously kneaded. And just like that, Nari’s last day of summer was spent at her favorite place doing exactly what she loved the most- baking at Sternenlicht with her aunt Valentina.

[cookingbadfoodgood]

blackberry hand pies

What up youtube its ya boii erika here to blast flavor into your brainspace!!!! Also I made pies.

One of the cool things about fucking off to the middle of nowhere is that in the wilderness food just grows places sometimes, which is dope. Boyf and I went blackberry picking like two kitchen maids determined to increase their station by finding the sweetest blackberry brambles on the Estate and it was way too hot and pointy but we got a shit ton of blackberries.

I dont own a pie tin and I was NOT going to go to the store so I made hand pies instead. I also dont know what the difference between a hand pie and a turnover is, but in my heart a turnover is flaky, which means puff pastry, and after the Croissant Incident of 2012 theres no fuckin way I'm making puff pastry when it's over 80 degrees. So: hand pies. I used this recipe which was very nice. I skipped the part with spreading the butter and folding and refrigerating because I'm impatient but it probably would have been flakier if I had done it. As it was the crust was really good, I've never used sour cream in crust before and I'm never going back, it was super flavorful.

Hell yeah! Look at those little shits! Getting delicious!!

Hell yeah hell yeah

Sorry the pics suck btw I took these before I decided to make a blog so they were taken just to brag to my friends about having pie. I'm not a "photographer" with "skill" or a "camera" but I have two eyeballs and a cell phone so hopefully the next ones will be better lol.

Anyway I always overstuff everything so these all leaked out once I baked them. My advice would be not to put this much in. But also filling good so... it's up to you. I'm going to continue being a monster and you can too!

The end!!!!!!! They didnt come out too shabby if I say so myself. I experimented with an egg wash which I have clearly never done before and the color is much nicer. If only I had used some sort of brush instead of my fingers. I have a brush. I just didnt want to wash it. So. Another pro tip from me: maybe just use the brush?

They tasted the same to me! Idk if it's supposed to affect the flavor at all. The only difference to me was the color and it may have been ever so slightly crispier. Boyf said they were MUCH crispier but I couldnt really tell, personally.

Overall I think they came out pretty well! They were fully baked, which was cool because I definitely overstuffed them. I really liked the crust. I found a couple of different recipes that called for store bought crust and I'm sure that would be way easier, but since we went full Little House on the Prairie for this one I wanted to make the dough from scratch. I dont regret it either!! It was *chefs kiss* super good crust.

Unfortch the dogs ate a bunch of them and for some reason my boyfriend thought that instead of the dogs doing this:

That it was in fact, me, his human girlfriend. With hands and thumbs and a capacity for rational thought. I asked a few other people and they all also thought that I would do this so I guess that tells you everything you need to know about me.

Until next time, nerds!

[thediaryofaudreysaxton]

September 24th, 2022

I cut my own hair again. 

The act itself is always so disgusting and ravenous. The thick chomping sound as my pink child’s scissors slice sideways, then vertical, into my mousy brown locks. Me, dead in the eyes, grabbing at random tufts with my fast-moving hands that are both quivering and damp. My cuts are always much shorter than I intend, as evenness is never achieved in the beginning if at all. 

The first time I cut my own hair I was in college.

Four times a week I served bagels and bubble tea at Milky Way Tea and Pastry. We were two blocks west of campus and the café was a converted garage made of painted white brick. I found the place sad and sweet and therefore full of romance. My boss Kyhunghee would scream and scold me in Korean for reasons varying in severity like being late or leaving the place unlocked overnight. Kyunghee’s mouth went wider than a cartoon snake’s when she was stern or stressed. I was the only student employed who wasn’t Korean. All the girls said Kyunghee was scary. I loved watching her long mouth when she was pissed at me, or her alive black eyes as she growled, stomped her feet, then pointed at my untied shoe and tangled hair. It was a privilege watching someone so passionate in their frustrations, direct fierce anger at me and not get hurt one bit. I had no idea what she was yelling but I knew she was displeased. Korean sounded like getting hit by uncooked alphabet pasta coming out of a tennis ball machine, absurd and stingy. She was immersive theatre and this was not a reprimand. Despite her frustrations towards my lack of aptitude, Kyunghee liked me because I was pretty and white, and always in a good mood. Putting on a show, I was a ham for them. When business was slow, I would drop to the ground like a deflated puppet, writhing in pain as I accused a coworker of pushing me to the ground. “Workers’ comp!” I’d shout. I would pretend to sob when we ran out of lettuce and stroke tomatoes goodbye before I cut them open. Every quarter of the hour, I liked to dance.  

 I worked mostly mornings, arriving at 6AM to put frozen bagels on a baking sheet the size of the screen door in my childhood home. I dipped their top half in hot water before a quick dip in poppyseed, everything, and salt. As a kid I liked to follow my mom around because she was tall, and people liked her. I also liked to stand in front of the mirror practicing shifting emotions. My mother adored me but also adored herself, as well as had to combat her irregular and common mood swings, so frequently I was told to get the fuck off her leg and go outside and play for fucks sake can she have one moment of peace god dammit. My favorite part about her at that age was watching her slap her slender and exposed legs when a neighbor or a family friend spoke. This is how you get people to like you, I noted, you exaggerate and hurt yourself.

Pushing through the screen door to our backyard, I often found myself pulling at the base of thick clumps of grass hoping to upheave their ivory roots along with the blades. I liked to play squatted down over a stump in our backyard, pinching wet mud and talking to myself.

“You’re going here today, we will have fun” I said to the clods of dirt before I smashed them onto the stump’s growth ring. “Here we go, hold on tight friend man”.

 Standing in front of the mirror in my 4-bedroom apartment I am 20 years old. I have not watered my plant for one week and today after work I found a debit card on the ground and without hesitating, scooped the blue plastic up and stuffed the card into my hoodie’s front pocket. I bought a kid’s meal at Qdoba with the stolen card before throwing the uneaten meal, as well as the card, into the trash near the library. Inside the library I had a cliff bar for dinner and looked for hot guys, planting myself near the spiral staircase on the second floor. I wrote about how The California Boy broke up with me again 5 days ago, but I had gone over there last night and sucked his dick before he made me go on top. I had felt full and stupid, rocking back and forth up there. I closed my laptop and left for my apartment, believing both everyone was watching me, and I was completely invisible, as they reeled at how unnoticeable I was.

 It was a Friday night. I had never cut my own hair before but when I looked into my own eyes, I realized I was attempting to put mascara on while brushing my teeth. I didn’t know how to slow down but I knew I wanted to look different.

Today was similar, except I’m better at cutting it now. 

[legojacques]

Jack likes to show his affection through small gifts, Zimbits, 2.2K, (Or, alternatively titled: Jack Zimmermann is like a cat with a dead bird or a crow with something shiny when he likes someone.)

---

“These are for you,” Jack said as he unceremoniously dumped the contents of his coat pockets onto the kitchen counter.

Bitty, who’d had his mug halfway to his mouth, brought it back down again. “Uh, okay?” he said as he stared at the array of packets Jack has just scattered. “You brought me honey?” He looked up at Jack in earnest confusion.

“Yes,” Jack said simply.

“Why?”

“They were there,” Jack replied with no change in his expression. Bitty wasn’t sure if this was a new joke of the week that he hadn’t caught on yet.

“Okay?”

“You said you needed honey yesterday.”

“Oh!” Bitty exclaimed as he finally realized that this was a thoughtful gift from Jack.

Bitty had needed honey for his tea last night, but after searching through the kitchen and interviewing some guilty Haus residents, it was discovered that Ransom and Holster had eaten what was left in the bottle that Bitty kept at the back of the one of the cupboards. Now, Jack was bringing him some. He suppressed a small giggle at the image of Jack stealing all the free condiments he could fit in his pockets from the dining hall.

“Thank you,” Bitty said with a small smile, as he gathered them into a small pile.

When he glanced up again, Jack’s eyes were soft. “You’re welcome.”

---

“How do you not have real gloves?”

“These are real gloves!” Bitty argued as he stretched a hand to wiggle his fingers. Beside him, Jack snorted.

“Those barely warrant as gloves. The wind goes right through ‘em.”

“Yeah, but I also have my coffee to keep my hands warm,” Bitty said. He grinned cheekily up at Jack as he wrapped both hands around his cardboard cup lovingly. Today was latte day, which was a special treat he only got once a week since he and Jack started getting coffee regularly after their early morning checking practices.

“That coffee will be mostly cold and your fingers will be icicles by the time we get back to the Haus,” Jack pointed out.

“Chirp, chirp, chirp, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack sighed and stopped walking, forcing Bitty to stop too. “Hold this,” he instructed as he passed Bitty his cup (black coffee because he refused to indulge in sugar and cream even his caffeine).

“Uh,” Bitty started, but Jack was already taking off his own gloves and holding them out to Bitty. “What?”

“Take them,” Jack said. “You clearly need them.”

“What about you?”

“I have more than one pair of good gloves, trust me,” Jack said as he plucked the coffee cups from Bitty’s grasp.

They were already warm from Jack’s hands when Bitty slipped the gloves on. His own hands had been cold, but he’d been unwilling to admit that aloud to Jack. They were a bit too big for him, but there was an extra, fleece lined layer on the inside that really did keep his hands warm.

“Better?” Jack asked.

Bitty looked up, unable to help the bright smile spreading on his face. “Much better,” he said.

“Good,” Jack said softly, a smile spreading on his own face.

---

Bitty woke up with an uncomfortable jerk into consciousness as a burst of panic filled him. It was dark in the kitchen and as he groped for his phone in the dark, Bitty felt something soft slither down from his shoulders. He grabbed at it, and it took him longer than it should have to realize that someone had draped a blanket over him when he’d been passed out on the kitchen table.

The time on the microwave indicated it was some time after midnight and that Bitty had been asleep for nearly an hour. He groaned as he rubbed his eyes and cursed himself for leaving his paper until the night before it was due. Bitty had deliberately gone to work in the kitchen to avoid the temptation of going to sleep, but it appeared he’d passed out on the kitchen table anyways.

He got up to flick on the switch, squinting painfully at the sudden flood of bright light. The blanket on the chair was a familiar plaid pattern that Bitty recognized. It usually lay across the foot of Jack’s bed.

There was a strange flutter in Bitty’s chest that he was too tired to analyze, but he did make a note to save Jack an extra piece of pie tomorrow to thank him. He folded up the blanket and collected his books and computer to head back upstairs. However, as he passed by Jack’s room, dim light spilled out from underneath the crack of his door.

Bitty debated going back to his own room and just talking to Jack in the morning, but since Jack was still clearly awake, he knocked lightly on the door. He heard rustling from the other side before Jack opened the door. His shirt was askew, like he’d been shirtless and had quickly thrown it on just seconds ago. Bitty could feel himself turn pink at the thought, but he mustered up a smile to cover up any lingering embarrassment.

“I wanted to bring this back,” he said, passing the blanket over.  “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Jack said. There was a moment of awkwardness where Bitty wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure what. Thankfully, Jack saved him from actually having to come up with anything. “Were you, uh, finishing homework?”

“Yeah,” Bitty admitted sheepishly. “I should have started it before tonight.”

“Are you done?”

“Kind of. Well, technically, I am, but I still have to read through it and probably make a few edits before I hand it in tomorrow.” He tried to stifle a yawn, but it came out despite his best efforts.

Jack frowned. “Do you want me to look it over?”

“Huh?”

“I can proofread it tonight. I can’t sleep anyways.”

“Okay,” Bitty agreed, feeling relieved. He held out his laptop, but Jack stepped back instead.

“Come in,” he said.

“Oh,”Bitty said in surprise, but he was too tired to argue much. “Okay.”

Jack sat at his desk while Bitty perched on the edge of the bed. The sheets felt cool and smooth under his fingertips, and Bitty was suddenly struck by a wave of exhaustion. He didn’t remember laying down on the bed, but the next thing he knew, it was already morning with the sunlight pouring in from the window.

Bitty twisted around, confused and disoriented, until he realized that he was curled up in Jack’s blankets. Jack was nowhere in sight, and Bitty felt a pang of guilt for falling asleep. He grabbed his laptop and hurried back to his room.

Clicking through the edits and comments that Jack had made from the previous night, Bitty finished the paper in record time, and even submitted it hours before it was due. It was still early and the rest of the Haus was quiet as Bitty decided to skip his morning class in favor of crawling back into his bed for a few more hours of sleep.

It wasn’t long before the slam of the front door downstairs startled him from the drowsy slide into unconsciousness. A few moments later, there was a loud and an insistent knocking on his bedroom door. Bitty groaned and got up to open this door to find Jack standing on the other side holding two coffee cups from Annie’s. He wordlessly held one of them out to Bitty who gratefully accepted.

“You probably shouldn’t go back to sleep now that you’re up. Don’t want to mess up your sleep schedule, eh?”

Maybe it was the combination of sleep deprivation and Jack’s easy grin, but Bitty had the sudden urge to reach up on his tiptoes and kiss him. Bitty sucked in a deep breath at the thought, and bit his lip to keep himself from doing anything stupid.

“Thanks, Jack,” he finally settled on.

“Anytime,” Jack replied, his smile unwavering.

---

“You bought me butter?”

“You said you needed butter.” Jack stuffed his hands in his pocket with a little shrug.

“No, I said I needed a ride to the store to get butter.” Bitty glanced down at the plastic bag again. “Did you buy every stick of butter in the store?”

“There was a sale,” Jack muttered even though they both knew that the butter never went on sale at the Stop n Shop. “And American butter sticks are so small,” he added sadly.

“Not everything is bigger and better in Canada,” Bitty scoffed, but then stopped short when he realized how it sounded. “I mean--”

“You sure?” Jack chirped with a laugh.

“That’s not what I meant, ,” Bitty said even though he could feel himself flushing.

“Sure, Bittle,” he said with a twinkle of amusement.

“For that, Mr. Zimmermann, you can stay and help me bake.”

Jack laughed again and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I’ve never baked before.”

“It’s easy,” Bitty said, already pulling the flour and measuring cups out of the cupboards. “I’ll teach you.”

Baking with Jack was more fun than Bitty had expected, despite Jack’s hesitation as he tried to drape the pieces of dough over the top of the pie in an attempt to create something of a crisscross pattern.

“Need a hand there?” Bitty asked teasingly.

Jack’s eyes darted to Bitty for a fraction of a second before he went back to his laser concentration. When he finally finished the top, he stood back to dust his hands while still glaring at the pie like it had offended him personally. “I don’t know why you trusted me with that. It looks terrible,” he said.

“Nah, it’s got character,” Bitty said cheerfully as he popped the pie into the oven with the others. “Besides, it’ll taste better because you made it.” When he straightened up, Jack was staring at Bitty intently.

“I--” Jack started before pausing for a second. “I can’t wait.”

Something about the timbre of Jack’s voice made Bitty shiver, and his hands tightened on the dishrag he was holding. Bitty turned around to busy himself with wiping the counter, unable to trust himself to speak.

That heart-thumping feeling was back as Bitty realized belatedly that he was so screwed.

---

Bitty had his music playing in the background and he was humming along to it when he heard the front door of the Haus opening and closing. A moment later, Jack appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with his backpack slung casually over one shoulder. “You made pain au chocolat?” he asked, eyeing the pastries.

“Hey Jack,” Bitty said. “Just in time. Want one?”

“Sure,” Jack said. He dropped his backpack on the floor and moved over by the counter.

Bitty could feel Jack’s body heat against his back when he came up behind Bitty and reached over him to grab a plate from the cupboard. It disappeared too soon though when Jack stepped back and Bitty had to pretend he hadn’t had a moment where he wished he could lean back against Jack. “One or two?”

“One’s good,” Jack replied. “No pies today?”

“I can bake more than just pies, you know. I’m not a one-trick pony.”

Jack chuckled before he took a bite. A flake of golden pastry caught in the corner of his lip, and Bitty was helpless to look away when Jack’s tongue flicked out to lick at it. He forced himself to take a deep breath before he did anything stupid.

“This is really good,” Jack finally said. He looked at it thoughtfully. “So, why pain au chocolat?” Jack asked.

Bitty gave a half-hearted laugh. “Your dad might have been tweeting pictures of desserts, and I wanted to try making it myself,” he admitted. “It was actually not as difficult as I had expected.”

“There’s a bakery near my parents house. Dad loves that place. We used to get bread and pastries from there all the time,” Jack explained, his eyes softening as he stared at the half eaten dessert.

“Mine are better though, right?” Bitty teased, shaking Jack out his thoughts.

Jack cracked a smile. “Much better.” He finished the last bite of it and dropped the plate into the sink. “Thanks for that. It was really good.”

“Well, let me know if there’s anything else I can make. It’s the least I can do.”

“Why? For what?”

“You know, everything,” Bitty said, looking away. “Helping me with checking practice, the gloves and the honey, and not to mention the giant bag of butter.”

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome,” Jack replied slowly. He put his hands in his pockets, and then after a pause, he quietly added, “I just want you to be happy.”

“Oh,” Bitty said simply as he stared up at Jack. Something snapped in Bitty, and before he knew it, he was striding forward to wrap his arms around Jack’s neck and pulling him down to kiss him. Jack made a noise of surprise at first, but then pulled Bitty closer. For an indescribable moment, the rest of the world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of them.

When Bitty finally leaned back, he could feel himself grinning goofily, a smile that Jack mirrored. “You make me happy, Jack” he confessed.

“Bitty,” Jack whispered. “I--” he started, trying to find the right words. Finally, he said, “You make me happy too,” before kissing him again.

---

(The problem with prompts is that I tend to stray from the original prompt and they grow into bigger sizes than anticipated.)

(Also, a huge shout out to my discord chat peeps for being amazing cheerleaders!)