#banana pancake split stack

[kyufessions]

cinnamon banana pancakes

synopsis: you (attempt to) make breakfast in bed for your boyfriend, keeho

pairings: boyfriend! keeho x g.n. reader

genre: domestic fluff

word count: 0.6k

warning(s): mentions of food

a/n: clingy boyfriend keeho 💔 in a good way though of course

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois

no one loved physical touch more than your boyfriend. you’re both out running errands together? he’s there to hold your hand and rub shapes into the back of it and go about your day. you wake up randomly in the middle of the night? there he is with his arms wrapped securely around you like a sloth. you wake up early one morning and decide to surprise him by cooking breakfast for you both? well, surprise ruined. because as soon as he woke up and didn’t feel you in his arms, his eyes widened with worry as he scurried to his feet and shuffled around the small apartment looking for you. luckily he didn’t have to go far as he smelled the cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee coming from the kitchen, his feet following the smell that eventually lead to you.

for a moment he admired you from afar from the door frame as he quietly leaned against it with his arms at his sides. the sunday morning sun shone through the halfway pulled curtains, the rays illuminating your frame as you flipped over another pancake. although you had just woken up not long ago, he still loved every inch of your being. from the messy hair you always woke up with, to the old hoodie of his you stole months ago that you refuse to give back. he never used the word perfect until he met you.

just as the last pancake fell onto the large stack, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. if you hadn’t already known who it was, you definitely would’ve jumped in place and probably started swinging the spatula around in defense. instead you just nuzzled into his chest, placing your hand on top of his and enjoying the warmth his body provided you on the brisk autumn morning.

“good morning baby,” his sleepy voice whispered as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek, resting his head on your shoulder as he rocked you both side to side slowly. “what’s all this?” you felt his lips peck your shoulder quickly before squishing his cheek on your shoulder blade, his arms squeezing you a bit tighter for comfort.

“i woke up early this morning and decided to make us breakfast.” you replied, turning your head to place a kiss to the top of his. “i was going to serve it to you in bed, but you woke up before i could do so.”

a faint chuckle was heard from him as you turned around to face him, his body standing up straight to look at you face to face for the first time today. “thank you, baby. it’s the thought that counts.” you watch as he lazily cups your face in his hands and places a kiss on your forehead. “i could still enjoy this in bed though, but only if you join me.”

you nod in agreement with a smile playing around your lips, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away and beginning to prepare your plates. as you turn around, you hear a grumble from keeho. turning around with a dramatic pout, you send him a curious facial expression. “your morning breath…” he trails, an obvious smirk being held back.

“yours isn’t any better either, yoon.” you snicker, rolling your eyes and continuing to add the bacon onto the plate with the pancakes.

back in the bedroom, you both sat up right enjoying cinnamon and banana pancakes with your matching mugs of coffee as an episode of That’s So Raven played on the television. of course keeho’s head laid on your shoulder, not wanting to be detached from you for even a split second. but you didn’t mind it, you enjoyed his touch. matter of face, it made you feel safe- it made you feel like you were finally home.

[quacheta]

So a few months ago, there was at least one (1) person who got permission to, and started, the project of bookbinding AmevelloBlue's The Ghost in the Shell. And when they tried to print it, it was like 700-800 pages. Which is... a lot.

So I figured, since (1) I also love Ghost in the Shell, (2) I do typesetting semi-professionally, and (3) why the heckers not, I could probably get it down to a more reasonable size.

And I did. And then AmevelloBlue gave me permission to share it here, so.

The Drive Folder With All the Files.

File-specific information below. :)

(Please, for the love of Donnie's banana pancakes, read it. I am trying to answer as many technical questions in advance as I can, so people don't get overwhelmed or confused or frustrated.)

(But also it is a LOT of information, so if you need clarification please ask. This is for to be fun! Not scary!)

There are three parts.

GitS.p8: This is the straight PDF export, done in pages and not spreads. That means each page is its own page (a spread has 2+ to a page) and the pages are in order. If you want a pretty PDF to read on a device, this is what you want. If you want to run it through your own imposition software, this is also what you want.

GitS.p8_typeset: This is the imposition. That means the pages have been rearranged into signatures and spreads for bookbinding. There are 16 pages, or 8 spreads, or 4 sheets of paper (printed double-sided) to each signature. Each signature gets stacked, folded into a booklet, and then stacked on top of the next signature for sewing the book block. THIS IS THE WHOLE BOOK. If you want ONE file to send to the printer, in one straight run, this is what you want.

signatures (folder): These are INDIVIDUAL SIGNATURES. That means each signature is a separate file. If you want to do a test print of a single signature, this is what you want. If you want to run different signatures through different printers, this is what you want. If you want to do this piecemeal for any other reason, this is what you want.

(The last three signatures are three sheets of paper, not four. This is for the sake of balancing page count against structural integrity in the bound book.)

Why would you want different printers, you ask?

Because color printing is expensive. And I used color in the typeset.

The entire thing is designed to still be readable (and pretty!) in a regular, black-and-white printer. Because I wanted this to be accessible to everyone, not just people who can afford color printing. But if you want to split it, and send the signatures-with-colored-bits to a color printer, and save money by NOT sending the whole book, these are the signatures with colored bits:

0, 5, 7, 11, 13, 14, 25, 26, 28, 35

And if that's too many pages still, here are the signatures with the most important colored bits (i.e., the title pages and the illustrations):

0, 7, 35

All of the files are PDFs. All of them, specifically, are PDF/x-1a(2003), which means the color profile is CMYK only and all the fonts are embedded. So nothing should go screwy-whompus when you download it or send it to the printer.

TRIM SIZE: the pages are 5x7.5. This is (1) to allow printing on letter-sized paper more easily, and (2) to also allow for trimming of the book block without screwing over the margins. The imposition and the signature files have trimming / cutting guides (the little lines) for your convenience.

There are 36 signatures total, or 560-something pages (less than 200 sheets of paper, before folding, if printed double-sided). This is still a big book. Big enough that you will need to know about spine swell, and possible rounding and backing, if you decide to do the binding. Please keep that in mind as you plan your project.

EPUB: some people like to convert PDF book files to ePUBs for eBook reading. Due to how I designed the typeset, this is not going to be pretty if you try it with these. I am currently in the final stages of making the eBook for GitS, and will upload the ePUB to the drive folder as soon as it's done. It will not have the pretty background / border illustrations of the print file, but it will be neat and tidy and include the pretty title pages.

I... think that's everything?

[butmakeitgayblog]

How does elbow patches celebrate her lovely gentleman Sal's birthday?

Well she doesn't really know his exact birthday because he was just a lil disabled runt dropped off in a box on the rescue's doorstep after hours 😕. The vet guesstimated that he was only a couple weeks old, if that, when they got him in late January, so Lexa just decides to use New Year's Eve/Day as his birthday to keep it nice and simple. That way if she has a few people over he gets all the attention and scratches he could ever desire, and if she just stays home, then she'll grab him a little dog safe cake from a bakery to match whatever snacks she grabs for herself and they bum it, flaked out on the couch together watching trashy tv. In the morning they'll split some banana oat pancakes (Lexa, 2 normal sized. Sal, silver dollar full stack.) Always a good day 😎🥂

[toomuchbreakfast]

I may have gone a little overboard at Stack & Still in London. My companion and I split pesto egg pancakes, spiced pear pancakes and coffee-cookie butter pancakes. I also got oreo-banana pancakes and shakshuka pancakes that my companion wanted no part of.

Result: Failure. I couldn’t quite finish my shakshuka cakes.

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 21

Faith

“Okay, so, how is this gonna work?” Kate asked, swirling her straw inside her tall glass of skim milk. 

The three of us sat in a booth inside a twenty-four hour diner in West Hollywood, atop brown leather seats jammed into the back corner of the main dining room. Overhead lights buzzed above us, casting their hot glow downwards on our intrepid trio. The blues stylings of Blind Blake hummed from the speaker, while the aromas of potatoes frying and meat grilling and pastries baking all filled the air. We all split a plate of onion rings while we waited for our entrees to arrive, taking turns dipping them in a small bowl of ketchup. I sipped my orange juice and Zeke skimmed his finger over the rim on his glass of sprite. “How do you mean?” I asked after swallowing a mouthful of OJ. 

“I mean… Well, I guess I just mean I’ve never been in a real relationship before, let alone one where there’s three people total. Zeke and I have only been a couple for a short while so far and now we’re adding you and I guess I just don’t really know what all this entails.”

“She raises a good point,” Zeke said. He sat next to her while I faced the two of them, putting his arm around her. I tried to ignore the green sparks shooting through my chest, tried to make sure they didn’t ignite a verdant blaze of hideous jealousy. I had no reason to be jealous- I’d literally kissed both of them less than a half hour ago. 

“Yeah, she does,” I said. “Still, does it have to be that different from how things are right now? Zeke, you and I have been best friends for a while anyway, and a couple is basically just a pair of best friends who have a romantic and/or sexual component to that dynamic.”

“That’s true,” Zeke said, idly scratching at the beard stubble sprouting on his chin. 

“And she does have the most relationship experience between the three of us,” Kate said. 

“That’s a scary prospect,” I said. 

“That doesn’t fill us with confidence, babe,” Zeke said. 

Babe. 

He called me… 

He called me babe.

HE CALLED ME BABE!!!!!!!

I squirmed in my seat, putting my hands under my chin as I wiggled back and forth and smiled. “Heeheehee,” I giggled. 

“I think she likes that, babe,” Kate said.

“I’m inclined to agree, babe,” Zeke said. 

“This is getting a little confusing though, babe,” Kate said, smirking. “It’s kinda what I’m talking about- if all three of us are occupying the same space and we’re all calling each other babe, which babe is the babe to whom we’re referring.”

“That could get a little confusing, yeah,” I said. Then I winked at her. “Babe.”

Those big blue doe eyes went wide as she blushed and smiled. “I mean… That certainly helps.”

Zeke snort-laughed. “Okay, back on topic: I can kinda see a broader issue happening here with one of us feeling like a third-wheel if two of us spend more time one-on-one then with all three of us. And since Faith and I live together, that feels like it will probably happen at some point.”

“The last thing I want is for Kate to feel neglected,” I said. 

“I mean hey, that’s not something I want either,” Kate said wryly before chomping down on another onion ring.

The waiter, a short and stocky black man with braids tied back into a man-bun and a nametag that read ‘Jerome’, came over with our meals: a stack of banana chocolate chip pancakes with a side of ham and cooked golden apples for Kate, a pastrami reuben on rye with a side of potato salad for Zeke, and an avocado melt on whole wheat with a side of coleslaw for me. “Here y’all are. Anything else I can get for you?”

“We’re good for now, though we might want some milkshakes by the end of the night,” Zeke said. 

“Or just one, with three straws,” Kate said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I cocked (heh) a smile. “I like the way you think, Katie.”

“Hmmm. I like it when you call me that,” she replied. 

Jerome left us to our food, and we all got so busy chowing down we let the conversation go silent for a few minutes. After we’d sated our initial hunger and let ourselves slow down, however, I said what was really on my mind: “it does raise the question, though: we’re gonna have to find ways for all three of us to be together a lot if we want to avoid any of us feeling jealous or neglected. Like, I’m not gonna lie, I wish I was sitting on that side of the booth with one of you instead of being here on my own.”

“Then come over and sit with us,” Kate shrugged. 

“Kate, she’s not gonna fit,” Zeke said. 

“Exactly, and I’m worried about that becoming a metaphor for this throuple-”

“Oh God, that is what we are, aren’t we?” Kate said. 

“I prefer ‘polycule’ personally,” Zeke said. “If we’re serious about this.”

“I am if y’all are,” Kate said. 

I nodded in agreement. “We should set up some ground rules: for every one-on-one date that a permutation of the three of us goes on, we have to go on a three-person date.”

“I like that,” Kate said, cutting up her ham and mixing it in with the syrupy pancakes before taking a large bite. 

“I do too, but what exactly constitutes a date?” Zeke said. “Again, Faith and I live together and we hang out watching TV basically every night unless I’m going on a date with Kate. Does that count?”

“I don’t really think so, no,” I said. 

“Okay, but Kate, be honest, would you get jealous about that? Me and Faith watching movies without you?”

Kate shook her head while chewing her food. She swallowed, then said, “No, that’s just hanging at home.”

“Okay, but what if Faith and I started banging?” Zeke said. 

I had the misfortune of swallowing a bite of my own sandwich when he said that, and nearly started choking before forcing the food down. “Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we, Underhill?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “... Fair enough, but like… It’s been on my mind. And I know you well enough to know that it’s been on yours as well. Kate and I have already talked about how we’re not quite ready for that yet-”

Kate put her palm flat across Zeke’s face. “Babe. Babe, we’re in public.”

“... Right, sorry. Forgot that.”

“Thank God this place is almost empty,” I said with a nervous chuckle, looking around to make sure none of the three old couples scattered throughout the diner were gawking at us degenerate youngins. Blind Blake gave way to Dolly Parton, ironically begging Jolene not to steal her man. Heh, I was pretty sure I’d figured out the work around to that particular conundrum. “But, uh, yeah, I’ll admit, there is that aspect to this particular equation. You and I have known each other a while, and I’ve been on HRT long enough that I’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with my body. And since we live together, we certainly have ease of access-”

“Yeah you do,” Kate said, brows raised and grin downright shit-eating. 

I started laughing in spite of myself. “Damn, Katie, you’re BAD.”

“You’re surprised?” Zeke deadpanned. 

“I really shouldn’t be,” I admitted. 

“Indeed.”

“Okay, seriously tho- you two are further along in all this stuff then I am,” Kate said.

“Are we? You and Zeke have been together longer,” I said.

“You and Zeke have known each other longer,” Kate retorted. 

“And you two have been the most desperate to bang each other the longest,” Zeke said. 

“What?!” Kate and I said in tandem. 

“Oh, c’mon, don’t deny it,” Zeke said. “We’re already here, in a polycule, don’t act like this is new or anything.”

“It is new,” Kate said. She looked at me. “Right?”

“I…,” I began, quickly trailing off. Then I thought back, to all the times Calloway had annoyed me over the past year, and wondered if there was anything more to that than poor social skills. “Actually, he might be onto something.”

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” Kate said. 

“It’s okay, we can work on that,” I said, squeezing her hand.

She blushed. “Sounds good. Also, for what it’s worth, I don’t mind if you two want to start getting intimate with each other. I’m not ready for it yet, but I hopefully will be soon. And there’s no reason for me not to let you two get a head start.”

So many images clouded my mind at that moment. SOOOO MANY. “I… Okay. Zeke, what do you think?”

“I think… I’m open to it. But, circling back a little, how about this,” Zeke said. “A date counts as such if it involves two or more of us going out and doing something together. This can include going to hang out with Katie at her place, and her at our place, but not us two at our own place. Does that sound good?”

“I’m cool with it,” Kate said. 

“Me too,” I nodded. 

“And we’re agreed that for every two-person date there needs to be a three-of-us date that week?” I asked, finishing off my sandwich. 

“Absolutely,” Zeke said, inhaling his last bite of potato salad. 

“We should also have a group chat,” Kate said, swallowing a large quantity of pancake. 

“Oh, good idea,” I said, whipping out my phone and cobbling one together. I dubbed it ‘Faith’s favorite people.’

“Awww,” Kate said. 

“Very cute,” Zeke said. “Relatedly: one last question.”

“Yes?” Kate and I both asked. 

“Does this count as one of our ‘all three of us’ dates?” Zeke asked. 

“I think so,” I said with a wide smile. 

“So do I,” Kate said. 

“In that case, a toast,” Zeke said, raising his glass. “To us. And to new beginnings.”

“Cheers!” I said, clinking my glass.

“Cheers!” Kate said. 

Jerome came back, with a chocolate malt and three straws on a tray. He set it on our table. “Figured this was where the evening was headed. Did I assume correctly?”

“You did indeed, my good man, you did indeed,” I said. 

I reached over to the center and sucked on the straw, the two faces of the people I cared about more than anything came very, very close to me while they did the same thing. We all drank together, not stopping until all three of us were wincing from brain freeze and laughing together through the pain. Kate’s laughter came in time with the final notes of ‘Jolene’, and Zeke held both of our hands as we reveled in each other’s company. 

I could get used to this. 

***

Later that night, after we’d dropped Kate off at home, Zeke and I made our way back to our place and walked up to our apartment, hand in hand. He smelled so damn good, musky and virile, and his massive hands felt amazing wrapped around my small, calloused ones. He was so much bigger than me, and I’d always been short, but around him, I felt… Delicate. Around him, I felt like me, and I wanted to savor that feeling as much as possible. I wanted to make each second I spent with him count, to make up for the wasted years I’d spent trying to avoid taking responsibility for my feelings. I wanted that with Kate, too, but I’d wanted it with Zeke for longer, and I wanted him to know how much I cared about him. 

Besides, I wasn’t tired yet- locking down a relationship with two hotties tends to give you an adrenaline rush, as it turns out. 

“Nightcap?” I asked him as he closed and locked the door. 

“I… Think I meant it, when I said I don’t wanna drink anymore,” Zeke said with a nervous laugh. “My mom is… Very clearly an alcoholic, and I don’t wanna go down that road.”

“Zeke, hey, you’re nothing like her,” I said, my heart sawing itself in half at his words and his downcast expression. He couldn’t possibly still think he was like his parents. He had to know how amazing he was. 

“I know, I just… The risk seems high to me, still,” he said. “I wanna be better than her. And him. Both for myself… And for you and Kate.”

The smile crept onto my face in spite of the sorrow behind the situation. I went to him, cupped his cheeks in my hands. His stubble had already grown thicker- by morning, the beginnings of a beard would already be manifesting. He was so rough and hairy and hard; I was used to girls, soft and smooth and elegant. This was different: this was a man, built differently than me, wired differently than me. It had taken me a few months to really accept that I liked the differences, liked the way he towered over me, liked the way he leapt to my aid without hesitation, liked the way he wanted to be my knight in shining armor. But now that I had, and I knew that I could have it both ways… It was as if I’d unlocked some hidden part of myself, long neglected and shoved into a corner in the back of my mind. I was a woman, yes; but moreover, at that moment, I knew I was one of HIS women. And I loved being that. 

Guess it was up to me to show him how much I loved it. Challenge accepted. 

“Hey,” I said, standing up on my tip-toes, leaning against his chest, stroking his cheek. “You’re already more than enough for both of us. So don’t ever compare yourself to your idiot parents, yeah?”

“You really mean that?” he said, his nose touching mine, our foreheads pressing together, his heartbeat thundering as I leaned on him. 

“I really, really do,” I said, my mouth getting closer to his. 

Our lips met, and it was different from our first kiss- that had been exploratory, tentative, nervous. We’d both been shaking when it happened, terrified of the idea that the aftermath might not be as good as the anticipation. 

Now we knew we didn’t have that problem. His stubble tickled my face, making me giggle as my tongue entered his mouth and explored the inside. My hands dug into his hair and rubbed his scalp as he pushed forward and pinned me against the wall, hands running down my shoulders and settling on my hips. My knee popped and I pushed back, kissing his neck and his cheek, my hands running over his hard, muscular chest. 

He gripped my hips tightly and lifted me up, and I settled into his arms as my forehead pressed against his and my tongue once again found its way down his throat. “Bedroom?” I said in a hungry whisper. 

“Are you sure?” he said, kissing me up and down my arm. 

“Only if you are,” I purred. 

“That… That would be a nightcap more up my alley,” he said. “We’ll have to tell Katie about this, though.”

“That’s fine with me,” I said, pulling off his shirt and witnessing the glory of his six pack abs and toned pectorals, digging my hands into his modest garden of dark chest hair, nibbling his shoulder lightly. Arousal burned like a wildfire through every inch of me, desperate to consume everything. “And she said she was fine with it.”

“Okay,” he said, a downright wicked smile on his face, mischief in his eyes. He bridal-carried me into his room.

“Throw me onto the bed,” I pleaded. I was small and delicate, and I was in his massive hands and strong arms. I wanted to be reminded of just how much he could do to me. 

“Throw you?!” he said, aghast. 

I giggled. Oh, Zeke. Ever the gentleman. “Okay, toss me lightly. Is that better?”

He laughed, and carefully tossed me onto his mattress. Then he jumped on as well, kicking off his shoes and pinning me down by my wrists. He loomed above me, a massive tower of masculine desire and intention. “I’ve dreamt of this moment. Literally dreamt of it.”

“Honestly, same,” I said, looking up into him, desperate to relinquish all control and give myself over to him, mind and body- ESPECIALLY body. “Guess dreams really do come true.”

“Evidently, yes,” he said, tugging the dress down from my shoulders and carefully folding it before placing it on the floor. It was honestly the sweetest little thing he could have done, and it very definitely DID SOMETHING for me. “Now then: shall we begin, oh captain my captain?”

“Yes please,” I said as I unzipped his jeans and pulled them down. 

A very long, very involved, very sweaty night proceeded from there.

***

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", and the entirety of "A Dream of Summer Rain," by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

If that's too steep for you but you'd still like to support my work, consider making a one-time donation via Ko-Fi:

[asksam]

Groaning, Sam rolled over and shoved his face harder into the pillow. He wanted to continue to lay in bed, but it took him a minute to realize he wasn’t in bed. The blond lifted his head and blinked, looking around the room. It was then that the past twenty-four hours rushed to his mind and he sat up. He glanced at his bed, mouth opening and closing a little as he saw the body in it. He quietly got his phone from where he’d left it charging last night, switching it with Kitty’s so it charged too. Sam glanced at the clock and sighed, it was definitely too early, but he knew he should go check on his roommate after last night’s fiasco. Plus, he should probably investigate to see if the fridge was stocked so he could make breakfast for them.

Being sure to stay quiet, he got up and left, closing the door softly behind him. Kurt was still sleeping soundly and thankfully, Brett was too. Sam had to do a double take, not used to the sight of his roommate without his signature long hair. With a sigh, he went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of ibuprofens with two glasses of water. Sam left one of the glasses and some pills for Brett in his room near the bed and did the same for Kitty. He went back to the kitchen after, taking time to glance through the fridge and cabinets. He debated for a few minutes and then got to work, grabbing things from both places. Once everything was set out, Sam washed his hands and started making breakfast. He ended up making two large stacks of pancake, covering one and saving it while he split the other onto two plates. He then gathered up fruit, cutting it up and using the strawberries and bananas to make a little happy face on one of the stacks. He set that one on a tray and put a cover on it, never really thankful for them and all of Kurt’s extra touches around the house until that moment.

For himself, he made some eggs and bacon to go along with his pancakes. He set some aside just in case Kitty wasn’t feeling too sick and would want some. If anything, he knew Brett would eat it if she didn’t. He wasn’t sure what else she would want to drink, deciding to wait to ask her as he brought out maple syrup and butter in case she wanted some. He checked the time and figured it might be late enough now that she wouldn’t kill him for waking her up, at least he hoped. He got the tray and carefully carried it to his room. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but he was relieved to see her already awake. "Hey,” he laughed, shaking his head. “No puking, don’t worry. You don’t feel like puking now, do you? ‘Cause I made you breakfast and there’s some water right there with a couple of ibuprofens if you're feeling hungover.”

When she woke up, Kitty didn't open her eyes for a while. Firstly, the light streaming into the room was bright enough from where she could see it behind her eyelids, she definitely didn't need to open them and get the full effect. She hadn't gotten so drunk to black out last night, but she'd definitely had more than normal, and that mixed with the joint she had shared with Brett made this a wholly new next-day experience for her. Embarrassment tinged her mind, and she cringed at the now-blurry memory of being picked up and thrown over someone's shoulder and being carried out of the party. Not exactly the poised, enviable ending to the night that she was envisioning.

Her hands brushed over the unfamiliar fabric of what she was wearing and she frowned, trying to get a feel for what it was. Definitely not the satin pyjamas she usually wore. Slowly, she grabbed the blanket that lay over her and pulled it up over her head, allowing herself to slowly open her eyes and examine the shirt in the filtered light. It was white with red writing across the front, and it took her a moment to read what it said; "McKinley Arts Synchronised Swim Team". Her mind raced, trying to piece together what exactly had happened to get her into this shirt, and she groaned as it dawned on her. Sam Evans. Sam had rescued her from the party and apparently brought her back to his place to sleep off the alcohol. Suddenly, her embarrassment doubled. Calling what she felt towards Sam a 'crush' was so deeply middle school that it made her cringe, but the attraction was definitely there. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her in the state that she had been in last night.

Taking a deep breath, she braced herself before pulling back the blanket, blinking a few times as she struggled to adjust to the light. Her gaze wandered around the room, only confirming her suspicions, and when her eyes fell on the pile of pillows and blankets on the floor, the embarrassment heightened, mixed with a softer feeling that she was wholly unprepared for. He had slept on the floor. He had let her sleep in his double bed and had taken a spot on the floor. Okay, she wasn't going to give him so many brownie points for that, it was the only respectable thing for him to do, but even so... it was nice.

She jumped slightly as she heard the bedroom door open, and turned her head to see him enter, and she brought a hand up to her forehead. "Please tell me I didn't puke on you last night."

[the-iceni-bitch]

Lazy Sunday

Pairing: dilf!Steve Rogers x tattoo artist!fem reader

Words: ~1.2k

Summary: You and Steve enjoy a morning at home, and you convince him to try something new.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (f receiving oral sex, beard kink, hair pulling kink, slight daddy kink), domestic fluff, cute toddler and dog, these two being all soft and in love, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: So, this just popped into my head and I wrote the whole thing in an hour. I cannot even tell you how much I love these two, and with the holidays coming up we’re gonna get so much stupid fluff over the next few months, I hope you’re ready!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You bit the pillow hard when Steve swirled his tongue over your clit again, your thighs tightening around his head while every muscle in your body quivered with bliss.

He grinned against you when he heard your muffled whine, giving one of your tits a good snack and laughing a little when you started kicking your heels against his back as another orgasm ripped through you. You sucked in air when he ripped the pillow off your face as he crawled back up your body, purring when he buried his face in your neck and rubbed his stubble covered cheek along your throat.

“God, I love Sunday mornings.” He hummed as he pressed gentle kisses over the column of your throat, his arms winding around you as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Fuck, I gotta wake up the kiddo. Should we make breakfast or go out?”

“I know Sar’s been wanting to try that pumpkin pancake recipe we found.” You beamed at him when he rested his forehead against yours, tangling your legs with his as he stretched his body over yours.

“Staying in then.” He gave you a peck on the lips before untangling himself from you with reluctance, grinning at you over his shoulder when you gave him a seat on the ass. “Gimme a couple minutes to wash up and then we can get her.”

“I’ve got it.” You grabbed some leggings and one of Steve’s college sweatshirts from your designated drawer, pulling them on and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading into the hall. “Take your time, I think I can handle breakfast.”

Steve just grinned after you when you closer the door to the bedroom behind you, his heart feeling unbelievably full and warm as he thought about just how goddamn perfect you were.

Then he walked into the kitchen when he was done, and his knees almost buckled. Sarah was standing on a chair beside you and covered in flour as you worked on flipping the pancakes that were on the griddle, Molly trying to shove her head in between the counter and the toddler to try to steal a treat. She started giggling when you bent to nibble on her nose, slapping at you playfully until you pulled back with a wide grin. You hadn’t even noticed him yet.

“What d’you think, bug?” Fuck, he loved that she let you call her that, usually she’d only allow it from him. “Chocolate chips or bananas?”

“Both!” Sarah squealed when you pressed a kiss to the top of her head, hefting the bag of chocolate chips and thrusting it at you.

“Both?! Ok.” You grinned when she wrapped her chubby little arms around you in a bear hug, popping a piece of banana in her mouth when she opened it expectantly.

“What are my two best girls up to?” Steve’s face split in a grin when Sarah let out a surprised squeal, you just giving him a quick wink as you started dishing up the pancakes.

“Daddy!” She let you help her off the chair and toddled towards him, laughing when he tossed her into the air before settling her on his hip as Molly loped after her and accepted Steve ruffling her ears.

“You make all these, bug?” Steve got her settled in her booster seat and strapped her in, grabbing the plate you handed him and working at cutting them up after he made sure she got a good look at the smiley face you had made on top of the stack.

“Yeah.” She started shoveling pieces into her mouth once Steve finished cutting them up, making happy little noises as she ate. “Y/N helped. Daddy, eat!”

“I will, don’t worry.” He kissed her forehead before moving to the counter to get his own pancakes, resting his hand against the small of your back as he leaned close and nuzzled into your hair. “Were you a big help, doll?”

“Such a big help, Daddy.” You beamed when he groaned at you calling him that, turning your head to meet his eyes as he cleared his throat to try to collect himself. “You like that, huh?”

“Maybe.” He growled low in your ear so only you could hear him, pressing his body into yours and moaning when your hand trailed over his side. “Dirty girl.”

“Eeeewwwww!” Sarah scrunched up her face with disgust when Steve pressed his lips to yours, shaking her head when you disconnected and started moving to sit at the table with her. “No kissing.”

“Sorry, bug.” Steve grinned at her when you sat down, stealing a piece of banana off her plate and laughing at her indignant huff.

“You shaved.” You pouted a little when Steve turned back to you once Sarah settled back into her breakfast, taking a bite of pancake and rubbing his cheek as he leaned into your touch.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to have to use the clippers before work tomorrow.” He kissed your palm then turned to face you, chewing his lip as he saw you slightly petulant expression. “Is that a problem?”

“Not really.” You crossed your legs and shrugged a little as he gazed at you, batting your eyes at him and biting your lip teasingly. “Just, it feels really good during certain… activities.”

“Oh?” He had noticed you being more prone to almost suffocating him as he developed some scruff, but he hadn’t even thought about why that might be. “You like a little bit of a burn, doll?”

“I think I do.” You murmured when he leaned closer to you as the dog distracted Sarah, his hand squeezing your thigh and almost making you moan as you thought about things. “Maybe grow your hair out a little too, something I can grab onto for extra leverage.”

“Ahem, yeah, yeah I can definitely do that.” Steve turned back to Sarah when she babbled at him, grinning when you wound your fingers through his and leaned on his shoulder. “What d’you think, bug? Should I grow a beard?”

“Yeah!” She clapped excitedly at the announcement, Molly barking along when she saw how happy her friend was as you and Steve laughed softly. “Santa Daddy!”

“You think so?” Steve laughed harder when she nodded enthusiastically, turning to you and almost guffawing when he got a look at the very intrigued expression on your face. “Seriously?”

“Don’t judge me, Steven!” You slapped his shoulder when he bent to give you a playful kiss on the cheek, muttering to yourself under your breath as you started eating your breakfast again. “Like it’s my fault you’d be a sexy as fuck Santa.”

[lovelybarnes]

dad- l. laufeyson

pairings: loki laufeyson x doctor!mom!reader, mentions of tony stark, natasha romanoff, steve rogers, oc, and thor odinson warnings: a child, y/n is a mom, dad!loki who is probably a little ooc but i hope that’s okay, y/n is a doctor but there’s no real detail, it’s just alluded to, mentions of an absent father, mentions of adoption about: requested! They’re dating and she has a toddler from a previous relationship that ended badly. Loki treats the baby like she’s his own and brings her to the compound once in a while to show off ‘his’ baby. The little one adores Loki and started calling him dada, making the soft side of him comes out. And also the very protective side. He eventually asks reader if he can officially adopt her to be the father figure. Since reader never put down the fathers name on the birth certificate, they put Loki’s down. a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i hope you liked this!!

tiny fingers splayed your cheeks wake you up, wet lips pressing continuously on your nose as familiar laughter rings in your ear. your nose scrunches, prying your eyes open to meet the mirror image of them in front of you. at the grin that splits daisy’s face, a smile sneaks up on your lips, too, “hey honey,” you say quietly, brushing away a strand of hair that falls in her eyes as your daughter’s warm hands hold your face.

“hi mama,” daisy replies, snuggling into your side, “pancake day,” she informs happily, a chubby finger reaching to trace the slope of your nose.

you tilt your head at her, raising an eyebrow, “really? who says?”

daisy doesn’t get a chance to reply, the crack to your door widening when loki steps through it, balancing a large plate stacked with pancakes and fruits in one hand. “loki!” daisy cheers, sitting up to reach for the food. you sit up, too, cocking your head at your boyfriend as you observe the platter.

“you made food?” you ask, eyes scanning the little cubes of cut-up strawberries and bananas before looking back up at him in pleasant surprise.

loki ducks his chin, “you were asleep. and today is pancake day. i simply could not disappoint daisy,” he explains, letting daisy take a piece of banana to shove in her mouth.

you gently run your fingers through her hair, a soft smile tugging at your lips, “hey, dais, let’s go eat at the table and watch some cartoons, hm?” at the sound of cartoons, she nods quickly, bouncing off of the bed to tug at loki to follow her, the god not making a peep when her grubby hands leave a smear of banana on his wrist. you watch as they head to the kitchen, listening when loki turns on the television and flips it to her favorite show without her needing to tell him. you take a second to remind yourself that the god in your house, sneaking homemade whipped cream--because store-bought whipped cream is not fit for her--to your daughter, is the same god who, not too long ago, physically recoiled at the mere mention of midgardians. you stand when you hear daisy’s voice calling you over when you take too long to follow, peeking around the corner to see loki cutting her chocolate chip pancakes into little squares. “any left for me?” you ask, your body burning hot when loki turns to look at you, a twinkle in his clear sea glass eyes.

“good morning, darling,” he greets, his lips kissing your cheek when you come closer to him, an arm wrapping around your waist. “pancake?” he offers, showing you a plate with two perfectly shaped pancakes, whipped cream piled high just the way you liked it and berries surrounding it in the way you always tried to do but were never able to. you pecked his lips, smiling against him when you heard your daughter protest loudly.

“what are we watching today?” you ask her, fingers taming the mess of bedhead that sits atop her head. she turns to the television after shoving pancake into her mouth, pointing at the image, “clifford,” she says simply. you sit next to her, exhaling, “that’s a good one.” daisy nods, “i want a dog,” she states after a second, “like clifford.”

you glance at loki, “finding a big red dog is going to be a little hard, sweetie--”

“i’m sure there’s one in asgard, if not, there must be one somewhere else,” loki shrugs, squinting at the show, “i’ll find one. worry not.”

you shake your head, chuckling, “maybe a normal-sized dog, daisy.” daisy pouts but nods.

the sounds from the television are the only ones for a few moments until you speak up, “oh, i completely forgot, i have to go meet with some big shot hospital reps for almost the whole day today, do you mind taking care of daisy?” you ask loki, an apologetic look on your face.

“of course not, she can accompany me to the compound today,” loki reasons, not missing the excited look that crosses daisy’s face.

you brighten, “that’s a great idea!” you turn to your daughter, who has smeared red on her cheek and a strawberry in her fingers, you huff a laugh, wiping it away with one of your fingers, “what do you think, dais? wanna go visit the other avengers with loki?”

she nods immediately, hurrying to swallow the fruit in her mouth before turning to loki, “can i wear your cape again?” she asks enthusiastically, patting wildly at your arm, “loki lets me use his cape!”

your eyebrow raises as you look at loki, “does he, now? i thought no one could even touch it?” you tease, appreciating the pale blush that takes over the snow of his cheeks as he shrugs, clearing his throat.

“there are always exceptions to rules,” he states.

-

“i love you,” you say, pressing a kiss into daisy’s hair, she parrots the phrase back to you, leaning further into loki’s arms when you pull away. “i love you,” you continue, kissing loki’s lips, “thank you again,” you whisper, feeling him chuckle against you.

“it is my pleasure,” loki assures before kissing you again. you pull away after a second, smacking your lips on daisy’s forehead as another goodbye.

“i’ll be back later, have fun, okay?” you request before finally walking out the door to head to work. you don’t see daisy’s pout as she lays her head on loki’s shoulder, balling her hand in his shirt. a soft smile tugs at loki’s lips, looking down at her to ask her if she’d like to go to the compound now.

a little while after she nods at his, he finds himself clicking her seatbelt in, making sure she’s safe in her booster seat before he begins to drive. he knows he could easily go there with a flick of his hand, but the travel makes daisy nervous, and, besides, she prefers to ride in the car with him, singing along to the playlist of the songs loki found himself liking in midgard.

daisy squeals when loki pulls into the driveway of the compound, jumping out of the car when he unbuckles her to hurry loki up. she pulls at his pant leg, growing more excited by the minute when she sees the red white and blue of steve’s shield flying behind the compound. “i do not understand why you like that thing so much. so boring,” loki grumbles, grabbing her hand and opening the door.

“ah, there she is!” thor’s voice booms nearly the minute loki and daisy step in, daisy’s grin grows wide, looking back at loki before running to thor. “uncle!” she squeals, oblivious to the way loki freezes when she says the simple word. thor carries her in his arms, holding her up like simba.

“my favorite niece! i brought the hammer for you today!” thor exclaims, sitting her down on one of his arms before holding his other hand out. loki looks to the side, realizing his brother is calling for the hammer with his daughter in his arms, quickly stepping over to him to take her away just as said hammer flies into his open hand. he twirls it, before handing it to daisy in loki’s arms, still keeping a hold on it as she wraps her small fingers around the hammer.

“brother…” loki hisses quietly, refusing to upset the little girl in his arms but wanting nothing more than to knock some common sense into his brother. “i would like to remind you to not do that while daisy is near you.”

daisy barely looks up at her name, too entranced with the intricate carvings in the hammer, “oh, she’ll be fine,” thor shrugs, clapping loki hard on the back, “i am very careful, brother.”

loki purses his lips, “yes, i remember how careful you are.”

“hey! reindeer games and little grey!” tony cheers from around the corner, natasha catching his words from the kitchen and heading for loki. loki can spot the captain in the hallway. “haven’t seen you in a while, kid,” tony tells daisy, ruffling up her hair, “thought you ditched us.”

loki rolls his eyes, concentrating on daisy, who reaches for the electric blue in tony’s chest, murmuring “pretty.”

“isn’t it?” tony brags, tapping a nail on his arc reactor, “built it myself. you want one?” daisy agrees enthusiastically, but loki makes sure to send tony a glare that tells him if he even dares. loki will finish the job in new york.

“how’s the doc?” natasha asks, coming cilently from the kitchen with a bag in her hand.

“y/n is good, she’s at the hospital right now.”

“hey, dais,” natasha starts, her green eyes sparkling, “you remember the toys you wanted from the mall last time we went?” daisy nods. natasha holds up the bag in her arms, “you wanna go see what’s in the bag?”

daisy’s eyes go wide, and she turns to loki, “can i dad? please?”

loki chokes down the uncharactersitic lump in his throat so he can nod, putting daisy down so she can grab natasha’s hand. when they’re out of hearing range, steve raises an eyebrow at loki, “‘dad’? that’s a big one.”

“yes,” loki clear his throat, “she had never called me that before.”

the other men exchange looks, before thor claps loki on the back with a beamng grin, “congratulations.” loki has never felt luckier.

-

it’s a few hours later, when you’re back at home, exhausted and sprawled on the couch next to loki with daisy sleeping on your and loki’s lap. “how was your day?” you ask quietly so you don’t disturb daisy.

“as excellent as a day with the avengers can be. i took daisy to the compound, everyone adored her, natasha spoiled her…” loki trails off, the clear cut reminder of the events of that day bright and new in his mind, “she called me dad,” loki finishes, allowing himself to look into the deep nooks and crannie of his brain that urges him to tell you what he’s been thinking about for far too long. there’s a second of silence.

“she’s never said to you that before,” you finally say softly. loki shakes his head, “she’s slipped up before, though. sometimes she calls you papa when she talks about you.” loki turns to you, searching your features for a lie he won’t find. “you are her father, loki. you’re way more of a father than her biological dad ever has been. you’re her dad, she loves you.” there’s more silence, the question you’re implying hanging in the air, waiting to be grasped and asked.

“would you adopt her?--” you grasp.

“i would like to adopt daisy--” he grasps.

you stare at each other before quiet laughter bubbles from your mouth, a nod tilting your chin, “you know, i never put her biological father’s name in her birth certificate.”

“we could go tomorrow,” loki offers, admiring the beaming smile that brightens your tired face.

“we should,” you agree, staring at loki for a few more moments before connecting your lips, looking down at daisy and brushing away some strands from her face when you pull away. you nod, meeting loki’s eyes again, “tomorrow.”

[callmegkiddo]

My Masterlist

Keys:

Fluff = ☁️ (it’s a cloud if you can’t see it)

Headcannons/HC’s = ✉ (it’s an envelope if you can’t see it)

Angst = 🌪 (It’s a thunder cloud if you can’t see it)

Lemon = ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) <it's a lenny face if you can't see it>

Platonic = ✿ (It's a flower if you can't see it)

Romantic = ♡ (It's a heart if you can't see it)

OC Lore:

- Burning Tower 🌪

- Scars of the Past 🌪 ✿

- I Found A Family ☁️ 🌪 ✿

- Split 0.02 Pt1  ✿ 🌪

- Split 0.02 Pt2 ✿ 🌪

- Give Them A Peace Of Mind ✿ 🌪 ☁️

Wish Dragon:

- Pocket HC’s ✉ ♡/✿

- LongZhu romantic HC’s  ♡  ✉ ☁️

- Pocket HC’s anon request  ☁️ ✉ ✿/♡

- Pockets x Secretary! reader  ☁️ ♡

- Pockets x S/o who found a wish dragon ☁️  ✉ ♡🌪 

- Pockets with an S/o that has secret powers  ♡ 🌪 ☁️ ✉

- Give. Me. The. Teapot (Pockets x reader with magical teapot)  ♡ 🌪

Meet The Robinsons:

- Laszlo HC’s ✉

- Lazlo romantic HC’s ✉ ♡

RE8:

- Dangerous (Heisenberg x Reader) ♡

Anime:

Assassination classroom:

- What art work? (Korosensei x Reader) ♡

BNHA:

- Only... Rice?? (Aizawa x reader)  ☁️ ♡

- My kitten (Aizawa x Kitten! reader)  ☁️ ♡ ✉

- Their eyes are up here (Aizawa x reader)  ☁️ ♡ ✉  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- MY WINGS  ☁️ ♡

AOT:

-  Gunther Schultz romantic HC’s  ☁️ ♡ ✉

TMNT:

- Did you just shave it off?! (Rocksteady getting revenge)  ✿ ☁️

- Chill! (father children relationship)  ☁️ ✿ 🌪

Transformers:

- Leave it to me! (Breakdown and Knockout) ☁️ 🌪 ✿(?)

- Happy(late) Halloween! ☁️ ✿

- Doctor on Break  ☁️ ✿

- What if Cody died? 🌪 ✉

- My short stack (2015! Underbite x short reader)  ☁️♡

- Dating Underbite would be...  ☁️ ♡ ✉

Dreamworks:

- (Shrek 4) Pied Piper x Violinist! reader ☁️ ✿ ✉

- (Shrek 4) Pied Piper NSFW Alphabet  ☁️ ♡ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ✉

- (Shrek 4) A Witches curse Pied Piper x dying reader  ☁️ 🌪 ♡

- (Shrek 4) Domestic love with the Piper  ☁️ ✿ ✉

Disney:

- Goofy movie Tank and Bradley general dating HC’s  ☁️ ♡ ✉

Slashers:

- Care for you (Brahms x Nanny! reader) ☁️ ♡

FNAF:

- My Darling Melody~ (Human! DJMM x Security Guard! reader)  ♡ ☁️

H&H:

- Let us be at peace (Sophia and Henry reunite) 🌪 ✉

FNF:

- Pansexual love! (Ruv, Whitty, Sarv and Agoti) ✉ ♡

TF2:

- Baking accidents (Pyro, Scout, Spy, and Engineer)  ✿ ☁️

- Reader confessing to the Mercs by gifting their favourites foods  ♡ ✉

Markiplier Cinematic Universe:

- Actor x short and aggressive reader  ☁️ 🌪 ♡ ✉

- Rest for me (Black Goo mixing with Glitter Darkstache)  ♡ ☁️

- Pancakes (Doves with Pink Bows Yanceford/Barfstache)  ♡ ☁️

- A Dance With The Blue (Diplomatic Partners/Cracks in the Shadows DAmien and DArkiplier)  ♡ ☁️

- Captain Magnum x Male First Mate! reader ☁️ ♡

- Wall Drawings with Celine/Dark, G, and SiC!  ☁️ ✿

- Vaccinations with Heehoo! (Heehoo x reader?)  ☁️ ✿? ♡?

Ghost BC:

- Allergy season, and a revelations (Bananas with Flirty Articles (Aether x Terzo x Kai)  ☁️ ♡

- Banana Sundaes and Freezing Fingers (Bananas with Flirty Articles (Aether x Terzo x Kai)  ☁️ ♡

- Confessional Dinner Dates (Bananas with Flirty Articles (Aether x Terzo x Kai)  ☁️ ♡

[sohannabarberaesque]

Over an early-morning breakfast in the foggy pre-dawn somewhere in the Sasquatch regions of the Pacific Northwest

[Mise en scene: Some second-rate diner which Duncan Hines, in his time, would barely have recommended.]

HUSTLE, per the CB Bears, over a quite substantial stack of pancakes: Boys, I have to acknowledge where I've seen Scooby-Doo and crew expose your typical "Sasquatch" or "Bigfoot" type to be but some low-rate scammer in a gorilla costume trying to scare some back-country half wits out of house and home!

BOOGIE, also with the CB Bears, and also going through pancakes wholesale: Obviously not Magilla Gorilla, for all we know!

[As if struck by impulse, along comes to the section of counter where the CB Bears are taking brekkie no less than--]

MAGILLA GORILLA, slightly impatient, as if having to match wits with Mr. Peebles back at the pet shop: Did somebody happen to mention my name just now in the context of a certain Sasquatch?!

HUSTLE, stunned at the presence: Uh--Magilla?!

MAGILLA GORILLA, trying not to test his patience: You were expecting a certain Bingo from The Banana Splits?

BUMP, himself of the CB Bears as well: We didn't exactly know you were up in our neck of the woods; after all, we were checking out possible Sasquatch sightings when we came in to have breakfast.

MAGILLA GORILLA: So that explains your garbage truck--

HUSTLE, seeking to correct Magilla: I believe you're referring to the Perfume Wagon, our base of operations mobile--

[Suddenly, the attention of the diner's patrons is attracted to a loud "thud" from the parking lot of what turns out being said Perfume Wagon collapsing.]

--uh, that WAS the Perfume Wagon--

BUMP, somewhat unnerved: Here we go again ...

*************

@warnerbrosentertainment @theweekenddigest @restroom @screamingtoosoftly @thylordshipofbutts @wackology @straights-world @thebigdingle @mysteriouslystrangeyeti @jellystone-enjoyer @cottoncandy-wannabe @themineralyoucrave @xdiver71 @nighttimehound @warnerbros-blog1

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Okay so Sooga can't cook. But can Master Kohga cook? And would he try to teach Sooga, for a bit of domestic fluff goodness??

Imma make this as fluffy as I can for you, anon! I’m gonna be SUPER busy, so some asks will probably be on the back burner. Having said that, Imma dip into these when I can because you guys have SUCH good ideas?? 

Also It’s not that Sooga can’t cook, he just can’t cook WELL. Stuff is always off with his cooking. Too salty, too sweet, undercooked, SOMETHING. Kohga is picky so he notices. Either way, let’s GO!

“Urbosa! Get over here!”

Kohga (as well as the champions) had been spending all day together in the kitchen (upon prompting from Zelda), and Kohga had more or less commanded the cooking area. When Kohga wasn’t busy killing people or sleeping, he was being a rather pleasant company to have around. He started off by making drinks, and Sooga offered to help. Which was apparently a bit of a mistake. Urbosa sighed as she left the table, and walked behind the counter. Kohga motioned to two cups.

“You try one, and tell me which one has alcohol in it.”

Urbosa tried one, then another, lightly shaking her head.

“One on the left? Right one tastes just like juice.”

Kohga motioned wildly to the cups, as if they made a scientific discovery.

“Ha! See, that’s the thing! BOTH do! Somehow!”

“I...don’t put enough alcohol, that’s the hint I’m getting.”

“No matter how many times I shove MY dick in THAT ass, he makes drinks like a FUCKING virgin! You know what, get a fucking apron on, I’m teaching you how to be competent in the kitchen. You can’t JUST have a top notch cock, you dumbshit.”

Kohga turned around to get them both an apron, and Urbosa chuckled at his puzzled reaction.

“Hey, he does have a point. Everyone should learn how to cook. Besides, him being this upset just means he really loves you.”

“Don’t you DARE make me out to be mushy, Urbosa!”

Kohga walked back up to them, throwing a pink apron at Sooga’s face. Urbosa chuckled as Kohga put his own on. It was clear she was right, but the relationship was still new to him, so he was still in denial of his feelings. Urbosa grabbed one of the drinks (Kohga’s, obviously), and shrugged.

“I’ll just be taking this then, carry on love birds.”

Kohga lifted a finger to retort, before Urbosa turned around and joined Daruk back at the table. Kohga waved her off, muttering something under his breath. Sooga couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re just charming, Master Kohga.”

“Save the sweet for the cooking, tits mcgee.”

Kohga patted his left tit, before going to the sink and washing his hands, Sooga following suit.

“So? What will we be making?”

“Good question. What do you WANT to make?”

“Hmm...what’s something YOU like?”

“Kiss ass.”

Kohga chuckled, drying his hands with a towel. Sooga honestly just lived for Kohga, and it was terribly sweet of him.

“Alright, let’s do crepes with fried bananas.”

Sooga nodded, more than confident enough to prove himself. Kohga dug into the cabinets to grab everything (with help from Sooga. Tall bastard), before Kohga put two bowls in front of them.

“Now, follow me. We’re gonna add a cup of the tabantha flour. Then, a tablespoon of sugar.”

“I always thought it was a cup of both.”

“No wonder you always burn those fuckers- that much sugar burns it, you dumbshit. Now, not everyone does this, but they SHOULD. Add some salt, help balance out. If you think a food doesn’t need SOME salt, you’re wrong.”

Sooga nodded along, carefully listening and following his instructions, as if this was a training session. 

“How did you learn all this?”

“Mom taught me. She loved cooking, but she worked hard, so sometimes she was too tired to cook. When I got older, I ended up doing the cooking around the house. You only get better the more you do it. Except YOUR drinks, you’re hopeless.”

“Like my love for you.”

“Iean down, imma smack you upside the head.”

Sooga chuckled, watching his little master grumble to himself. Kohga took out another bowl, and added milk, as well as an egg.

“Now. You mix the wet and the dry together.”

“Why not just do it all together to begin with?”

“Lumps, you get lots of ‘em if you do that.”

Sooga nodded, watching as Kohga mixed the ingredients in their separate bowls. Sooga could watch Kohga cook all day, if he let him. Sooga copied Kohga as they mixed the dry and wet together, whisking it till it was nice and liquidy.

“It’s supposed to be this liquidy?”

“Yeah, any thicker and it’s a pancake. Now, we’re gonna put this in the fridge for as long as we can, get some flavor out of it.”

“What do we do while we wait?”

Sooga took the bowls, and put them in the fridge, just in time to catch Kohga grabbing bananas and putting them on a cutting board.

“We prep everything else. This should be easy for you. I need you to cut all these in little squares. And listen to me while I show you what I’m doing, but be careful.”

“Afraid I’ll cut myself?”

Sooga grinned as he peeled the bananas, starting to cut. One thing Sooga was VERY good at in the kitchen, was cutting. Always clean, always uniform. Kohga dug into the bag of sugar that he had at his side, and tossed a bit towards Sooga’s apron. Wasteful? A bit, but Sooga’s dumb smile was getting on his nerves.

“If you don’t, at this point I will. Now, I’m gonna throw some butter in this pan, and we’re gonna add the bananas here soon as you’re done. This, and some whipped cream, is gonna be our filling.”

“Doesn’t it burn if it’s hot?”

“If you actually know how it works, no.”

Sooga was careful not to cut himself as he watched Kohga throw butter, sugar, and some spices onto the pan. He watched as the sugar browned slightly, and Kohga motioned for Sooga to pour the fruit in. Once it was inside, Kohga handed him the spatula.

“Now, keep mixing it. Don’t change the temp, don’t let it sit.”

Sooga watched as Kohga grabbed a bag of acorns and chickaloo tree nuts. He cracked them surprisingly effortlessly in his hands, quickly and efficiently separating the shells from the insides. Sooga found it hard to pay attention to the pan, and his Master’s hands. How did hands so soft and lovely make such hard work look so easy?

“Is that going in the batter?”

“No, with the bananas. Adds some crunch, and a little bit of sweet.”

Kohga’s arm pushed against him as he added the nuts to the pan, motioning for Sooga to keep going. 

“Now, this is just how I like it, but we’re gonna add a swig of apple juice. Adds a BIT of tart, because this is going to be sweet as hell. Especially since we’re gonna add a touch of rum, to taste.”

“...Master Kohga?”

“Don’t tell me I lost you already, big guy.”

“Just in your eyes, Master Kohga.”

Kohga looked up at him, and reached his hand up, pushing him away a bit.

“You are SO mushy. No wonder you can’t cook right, you’re too busy ogling me all damn day.”

“You make it quite hard to focus.”

He chuckled. He kept mixing, as he was instructed. Kohga added butter to the pan, shaking his head at Sooga’s stupidity. He was just, such a lovestruck idiot. Once the butter started to lightly bubble, Kohga dug into the fridge, bringing out the batter.

“Okay, let’s start the important part. You can turn that off, cover it with the pot lid. I’m gonna let you do the first one. Three tablespoons into the pan.”

Kohga gave him the proper pouring tool, and Sooga obeyed. He was about to ask what to do next, when Kohga held onto his hand, helping him turn the pan. Sooga could chuckle like a lovesick fool right now, honestly. He really did have nice, soft hands, and Sooga wanted to hold them forever.

“Tilt to get it everywhere. Nice and slow, get it everywhere. Three minutes, then flip. Anymore and it’s like eating a damn ear. Speaking of ears, are you listening?”

“To every word, Master Kohga. Every single, solitary word.”

Kohga turned to look at him, finally seeing why he sounded more stupid than usual. He was SWOONING. Literally looking at him, and SWOONING like an idiot. Kohga scoffed, flipping the crepe for him.

“Alright, then listen to this. See how it’s got a nice, brown crust? We want it kinda crispy.”

Kohga let Sooga ogle him for three minutes, before finally taking it out of the pan, setting it onto a table.

“Taste it.”

“You?”

“W-no, the crepe you dingbat!”

Even Kohga had to chuckle at that. It’s why Kohga never let his ass watch him cook, it was just. All of this. They split the crepe, and Sooga nodded.

“You’re truly wonderful, Master Kohga. It’s lovely.”

“Good. Now, you’re turn, all by yourself.”

Kohga was going to step back, but Sooga’s puppy dog eyes kept him standing right there. Sooga added the batter to the pan, carefully turning the mixture till it coated the whole pan. He waited the three minutes, before flipping it. Kohga nodded in approval.

“Good crust, good crust. Keep it going.”

And that’s exactly what he did. Kohga sat there, watching his Sooga make crepe after crepe, and Kohga couldn’t help but chuckle. He was constantly asking if it was okay, constantly peering over him for approval. Honestly, if Kohga told this man to get him a piece of the moon, Sooga wouldn’t hesitate to reach for the stars. Soon enough, there wasn’t any mix left, in turn, leaving quite a stack of crepes. Kohga flipped through the stack, nodding.

“Better. Though some are a bit darker than others. We’ll work on that. Now, best part.”

Kohga placed one on the plate, added a hefty dollop of cream and honey, then folded it into a nice triangle like shape. Sooga watched him carefully, clearly wanting it to be perfect. Kohga folded another with cream and honey, then another. His usual was three at a time, but he might just have more (to support Sooga of course). He topped it off with the banana mixture, and dusted it with powdered sugar, just to make it look good. Sooga followed his stead, though he didn’t do it so cleanly. Folding it was hard for him apparently, causing him to get whipped cream all over his fingers, and even on his mask. It was a sloppy plate, but it was Sooga’s plate. Kohga shook his head once he saw the state of Sooga.

“For the love of- get over here, idiot.”

Kohga grabbed a hold of his face, wiping the cream off of his mask. Sooga sat there, letting him do so with such loving eyes. It was totally gross, in a sweet way.

“Master Kohga?”

“If the question is ‘am I an idiot’, then absolutely.”

Sooga chuckled, lightly shaking his head.

“I just...thank you. I enjoy listening to you when you teach. You love what you do, and there’s something so absolutely beautiful about that.”

“Yeah yeah...well. I like teaching you. You’re eager to learn.”

“I’m eager for YOU, Master Kohga.”

“Well geez Sooga, I know I’m pretty sweet, but-”

Before Kohga could finish his retort, Sooga suddenly lifted him off the floor, lifting their masks up a bit, and kissing him, right in his gorgeous lips. Was it a bit much, nearly throwing Kohga onto the counter and leering over him to kiss him? Absolutely, but neither seemed to care in the slightest. Just for a minute, they were there in an embrace, as sweet as sweet could be. Totally ignoring the table of people just a few feet away. Daruk lightly coughed, trying to ignore the fact that Sooga’s tight grip on his Master’s ass was smearing whipped cream everywhere.

“I...don’t think we’re gonna be eatin’ anything any time soon.”

[naceisonthecase]

Alya’s Christmas Miracle

Hello, @giorgiaink​! I was your Fitzsimmons Secret Santa. I hope you enjoy this little fic. It’s only the first part, but with my last semester of University and Christmas I’ve been quite busy. I’ll post the next part (hopefully!) soon. I hope you like it. 

                                                          ------

Prompt: fluff or angst with an happy ending or something introspective

Summary: Two years after the Decimation no one is really in the Christmas spirit. Alya Fitzsimmons makes it her mission to bring some holiday joy to Perthshire. 

Note: This is not beta-ed. All mistakes are mine. 

                                                           ------

The early morning sun shone through the lightly falling snow casting a wintery glow through the window of the Perthshire cottage as the people inside began their day. Jemma was in the kitchen, cooking. Fitz was sitting at the breakfast nook, reading an article on his tablet. And, Alya was in the lounge. She was laying on her stomach, her legs wiggling in the air, and an entire box of crayons scattered around her as she concentrated hard on the roll of paper stretched before her. Every so often she’d tap the bottom part of the crayon against her lip in thought before scribbling another addition to her list. She had just finished and, propping her elbows on the hardwood, was proudly examining her handiwork when Jemma called from the kitchen.

“Alya, breakfast is ready!”

The five-year-old sprung to her feet. “Coming!” She announced, leaving her paper amongst the crayons, and scampered into the kitchen instantly enveloped by the smells of cooking. She climbed up onto the cushioned bench of the breakfast nook.

“You’re favourite breakfast.” Jemma announced, coming over to the breakfast nook with a plate in hand and a jug of syrup in the other. “Banana pancakes.” She placed the plate stacked with already pre-cut pancakes in front of her daughter and put the jug of syrup in the center of the table where a saucer of milk and sugar were already laid out.

“With chocolate chips?” Alya quipped up with enthusiastic hope.

“Only a bit.” Jemma answered. She pressed a quick kiss to the top of the little girl’s head. “Don’t want you jumping off the walls causing shenanigans.” She finished then returned to the kitchen for the rest of the breakfast necessities. Alya quickly positioned herself onto her knees in order to reach for the jug, pouring an overly generous helping of the sugary goodness over her breakfast and dug happily in. Jemma soon returned with her and Fitz’s breakfast.

“Fitz, I told you no screens at the table.” She said, placing the breakfast things in front of him  and refilled his mug of tea, but Fitz didn’t look up from the article detailing the devastating events. Instead, he was rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.

Alya lowered her fork to her plate, and turned to watch her father. She noticed his jaw was clenched and his  “Daddy, what’s wrong?” She asked. “Is it about the people that disappeared two years ago?”

Fitz lowered his tablet, and Jemma paused in the middle of prepping her cup of tea. “Oh, sweet girl,” Jemma said, “you don’t need to worry about that.”

“I’m not worried, I have a plan.”The little girl bit back a smile as she jumped up from the bench and hurried back into the lounge. “We can fix this together. Just like always.”

Jemma and Fitz shared a look.

Alya had always been an inquisitive child, always asking questions and probing for stories about her parents adventures, but they both agreed to keep her out of that as  much as possible. The less she knew the better. And, considering her unconventional upbringing they were looking forward to introducing her to the wide world and building their own adventures away from the dangers of SHIELD. That was before they had returned to the original timeline and realized that half the world’s population had vanished into thin air. For Alya there were more people around than she ever dreamed existed, but for her parents everywhere they turned they saw the aftermath of The Decimation (or The Blip --- as some preferred) as the reports had deemed it. All the people that had lost someone special, not knowing if they were going to return. The two were fully aware of how that felt.

Alya returned, the piece of paper clutched in her little hand. “It’s not quite finished,” she said, handing it over to her mother. On the top, scribbled in large blue crayoned letters it read:

Underneath, a short list was written out and Jemma naturally tilted the page towards Fitz so he could read through it with her, as she’d done multiple times with a scientific report in the past.

“It’s a lovely idea.” Jemma said.

“I know.” Alya said, gleefully. She began shoveling the rest of her pancakes into her mouth as fast as she could. She washed it down with a cup of milk, and stood again from the bench. “We need to start right away if we want to fit everything in.” Alya added, standing on tiptoes to reach across the table for her empty plate and cup. Once in her grasp she skipped off to discard it in the sink. Fitz then picked up the paper to give it a closer read through.

“Fitz, I know what you’re thinking.” Jemma began, tilting her head slightly towards Fitz, watching him press his thumb to his lip in thought. “It won’t bring anyone back. But, she just wants a Christmas like the ones in her story books.”Jemma laid her hand on top of his, giving it an encouraging squeeze, and smiled. “Maybe it will do us all a little good.”

“She’s so your daughter.” Fitz said mockingly, dropping the sheet back down to the table

“But she’s your splitting image.” Jemma replied as the towheaded girl bounded back to the nook.

“Come here Monkey.” Fitz said, all traces of his grimness gone. He picked Alya up and placed her on his lap.“As soon as you’re all washed up and dressed,” he said, wetting his thumb with the tip of his tongue, wiping away some syrup which had dribbled onto her chin as she ate, “we can-“, he consulted the list (as if he hadn’t been looking at it a second earlier), “-bake Nana’s biscuits”, his mouth instantly beginning to water.

Alya nodded, scrambling off her father’s lap and rushing out of the room.

Jemma smirked. She knew that Fitz could never say no to their daughter, no matter how much of a Scrooge he was when it came to the holiday’s. He’d picked up his fork, and was already chewing away at his breakfast when he noticed Jemma’s look.

“What?” He questioned around the pancakes in his mouth.

Jemma’s smirk deepened but she didn’t utter a word, simply biting off a mouthful of pancake from her own fork.

[goddess-complex]

why is there not breakfast ice cream? not like diet health froyo, but like. why is ice cream not a breakfast food option? ice cream has a decent amount of protein, calories and fat. lots of yogurts and cereal and juices have a comparable amount of added sugar. it can be loaded with any kind of fruit, peanut butter, chocolate, jam, nuts, etc. its so easy to eat, even when youre not hungry or if your stomach is acting up. its as easy as eating a depression meal of spoonfuls of peanut butter, but less sad and less nauseating. why is it socially acceptable for me to wake up and eat a pack of poptarts, or a stack of pancakes drenched in syrup, but not a banana split sundae? we are prisoners of our lack of imagination. i am no longer denying myself the decadence i deserve

[chubbievegan]

Happy Pancake Day! Here's the recipe to my extra large / sharing blueberry and banana split pancake: Batter - dry: 1 & 1/4 cups plain flour 1/2 tsp baking powder & bicarbonate soda & cinnamon 1/4 tsp salt 1 tbsp sugar Batter - wet: 1/2 a mashed small banana 1 & 1/4 cups soya milk 2 tbsp melted vegan butter 1/2 tbsp vanilla extract 1 cup Bluberries Method: 1 - preheat oven to 180°C 2 - mix all dry ingredients in a bowl; 3 - mix all wet ingredients in a separate bowl, minus the bluberries; 4 - add wet ingredients to dry ingredient bowl and whisk until smooth, then mix in the blueberries; 5 - melt some more vegan butter in a large frying pan and add all the batter* - cook on a medium high heat until loosens from the edges; 6 - prep a baking tray with greaseproof paper / silicone baking mat; 7 - slide pancake onto tray and bake for another 10mins until the top is cooked. *Alternatively you could make a stack of around 6-8 smaller pancakes with this mixture. Toppings: - 1.5 sliced bananas; - Ben & Jerry's Vegan Peanut Cookie icecream; - Food Heaven Whipped Cream; - Homemade choclate fudge sauce (see previous post for recipe); - chopped hazelnuts; - a Jammie Doger, plus more fresh blueberries around the side. Hope you enjoy it! #meatfree #eggfree #dairyfree #whatveganseat #veganfood #plantbased #plantbaseddiet #food #veganforlife #foodporn #veganfortheanimals #crueltyfree #vegetarian #instafood #vegansofig #veglife #veganinspo #lgbt #lgbtq🌈 #lgbthistorymonth #pancakeday #pancake #veganpancake #bananasplit #pancakes🥞 https://www.instagram.com/p/CLWS_44p-ES/?igshid=1odb004spmee7

[batfamquotes]

dick grayson: okay, what did you eat today?

tim drake: not much. I had jumbalaya, one double-stacker, a strawberry milkshake, a mega chicken ceasar salad, a quiche casserole, a club on sourdough, potato wedges, a 12 oz medium rare, a salmon fillet, a raspberry sponge cake, onion rings, hush puppies, lasagna, a stack of butter wheat pancakes, pandesal, a bread bowl of creamed spinach, roasted asparagus, a banana split, and a molten fudge chocolate cake with chocolate sprinkles.

damian wayne: drake, don't take this the wrong way, but HOW THE HELL ARE YOU NOT FAT?

duke thomas: it's probably because he exercises so much.

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

Out Of The Woods (2/?)

This multi chap fic has been one that I've wanted to write for a while. I'm hoping to connect a few loose ends, since my series is getting closer to the end. Don't worry, I still got a couple of fics left in me. I'd love to thank @xerxezra whose conversations with me are always inspirational. I'd also like to thank @dorkydisappointment whose writing got my creative juice flowing and @hoodoo12 who continues to inspire me all the time.

Reference to the crystal necklace a can be found in my fic The Language Of Flowers and to safety measures in Sentimental Reasons. And finally, references to the woman in Ricks journal is from What You Found Amongst The Pages. I know, that was shameless self promotion ;P

If you haven't read part 1, then heres a link (Read Chapter 1)

In this fic the reader tries to uncover the mystery of the artist behind Zeta-7s portrait.

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

Chapter 2: The Girl Who Loved Him Before

You couldn't sleep. It wasn't so much the bed, which was much harder than the one you had back home, but your thoughts. Ugh, why couldn't you just turn your brain off? If you could, then maybe you wouldn't be up at 2 in the morning questioning your life choices; that or it was because you were in an unfamiliar place.

You thought of taking out your laptop to type out the draft for a new story idea you had, or to take another sedative, but you decided that maybe you could read one of the magazines you saw on the coffee table instead. Carefully, you cracked the door to your room open, checked to see if the coast was clear before you tiptoed towards the living room. Next to the couch, was a rustic coffee table created out of an old tree trunk; on it were coasters made from a young pine. Next to the pile of coasters were old science fiction magazines; all of them older than yourself. And since you couldn't find the book you saw earlier, you picked up the stack and slipped back into your room.

Just like you did when you were a kid, you hid under the duvet with a flashlight. Each magazine was in its own sleeve, and you shuffled through them until you found a hand full you liked. The one with Gort on the cover had original stories that had been sent in by fans; your favorite being The Day The Earth Stood Stupefied, which was a story about how Gort and Klaatu managed to control the masses with charisma and Rock n Roll. Another one had a series of stories which revolved around a lonely dendrologist, who alienated everyone he knew in his pursuit of knowledge; whose increased disdain for humans had led him to madness; a marriage to the forest, and whose offspring walked the earth, searching for their place in the world. The other magazines turned out to be comic books, laced with outdated tropes and humorous ads for sea monkeys and x-ray goggles. Though, the one that interested you most was the small booklet for a funeral home.

Strange, why would this be here?

You pulled the covers down, glanced at the door just to make sure it wouldn't open before you hid again, and flipped through the booklet. From different burial arrangements to simple and ornate caskets, you assumed that either he helped with a burial or had planned one. Poor man. You placed it back in the middle of the stack where you had found it and returned the lot of it to its original place. Maybe trying to write might help quiet your brain after all.

____________________

You woke up; the cause being from the sounds which came from outside. Slipping your feet into some slippers, you stepped out of your bedroom, finding that Rick was neither in his room, kitchen, or living room. The noises got louder and seemed to be coming from the back of the house. So feeling brave, because you could totally take care of yourself, you grabbed the silly dancing moose statue from the dining table which doubled as a banana holder and stepped outside, only to find Rick pause; his ax lifted above his head, with raised brow perplexed as to what you were doing before returning to his task. “Oh, you're chopping wood.”

Log after log, he split them into smaller pieces. You had never seen him chop wood, but at the rate and diligence in which he was, made you wonder if he had cybernetic enhancements like other Ricks did; it certainly would explain a few things. When you realized that you were still holding the statue, you could only giggle at your silliness and set it down beside you as you took a seat on the porch steps; not only relieved there wasn't an intruder but pleasantly surprised by this display of masculinity. “Rick, why are you chopping wood? It's not to impress me, is it? Cause if it is, it's totally working.”

Leaning the ax against the stump, he pulled off his sweater, having warmed up from the exertion, using it to wipe his sweaty face. The t-shirt that was underneath his sweater clung to him, outlining the shape of his lean torso. Wow. “There's n-no central heating and there's going to be a cold front t-t-t-tonight. I um - I wanted to make sure there would be enough firewood.”

“Well, nothing warm hands and a pillow fort couldn't solve. Right?”

“Hohoho, n-no. Though it would be nice if that's all it - it took.”

Goodness, did you love what you were seeing, regretful that you didn't have your phone to take a pic. If he was more confident, then he'd certainly be the death of you, strolling over with a confident swagger but it didn't matter. You were so lucky to have him; dorky and all. “Rick, could you come here for a moment? I want to show you something.”

By now, you'd think he'd catch on to your mischief, but even so, he obeyed; how cute. He walked towards you, unassuming, and you stood and waited for him to be close enough so that you could lean over and kiss him. He squirmed when you did this because he was all sweaty and wanted to be all nice and clean before making any attempts of being affectionate, but you wrapped your arms around him and held him tight, determined not to let him go. “I got you, Ricky.”

“Gosh, but I'm - I-I-I shouldn't. I'm all sweaty.”

“It's okay,” you cooed, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. “I kinda like it. Besides, everyone sweats. It's only natural, and if we didn't we'd die, right? So calm down my little manly man. I'm not grossed out.”

It took him a few seconds to let this sink in.“Is there anything y-you don't like?” he wondered; neither reciprocating nor initiating.

“I don't like mosquito bites, but what does that have to do with anything? I really like you. That's what matters.”

“Th-that's - thank you. I appreciate it.”

You pressed your nose right into his hair, breathing in the scent which was naturally his intermingling with that of the forest. You knew this made him nervous, but you adored the way he smelled, especially right now; as though he'd been birthed from the ashes of pine. “You're welcome. Have you been rolling around in pine needles?” you giggled, picking out a stray leaf. “Or have you been hugging trees again? If you aren't, then maybe I should encourage it.”

“No,” he answered matter of factly. “it's um - it's from the wood. Th-they produce chemicals called terpenes, which give them their special, distinctive scent.”

“Oh Rick, when are you going to understand when I'm flirting with you?”

Scratching the back of his neck, he mumbled sheepishly. “Gee, I-I-I don't - I'm sorry.”

Reluctantly you let go, deciding that you should let him be before you had a chance to get any other mischievous ideas. “Aw, don't be sorry. You still have plenty of time to understand me. Until then, how about I make us some breakfast. Banana pancakes sound good?”

Smiling warmly down at you, he nodded. “It s-sure does.”

_______________

After breakfast, Rick informed you that he needed to go somewhere, and you were ready to go along but he confessed. “I-I-I have to get some supplies to do a couple of repairs. I've been so busy lately that I didn't realize that there were still a-a few things t-t-to do around here before I can relax. I should be back this afternoon.”

“Rick, it sounds like you're leaving me here.”

Giving your hand a squeeze, he admitted. “I am, though only because I want to return as soon as possible. I want t-to spend as much time with you as I can. I mean, I'm going t-t-to be making repairs after I return, but in other words…..”

“You're busy,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away so you could put away the dishes. “and you wanted to take care of your errands without distractions. Fine, it's whatever. I'll be here I guess.”

The mismatched dishes were an odd contrast in comparison to the many other decorations about the place, and you were relieved by this, but annoyed that you weren't tall enough to put away the mixing bowl in its respective place on the top shelf. Seeing this, chair legs scraped against the floor, creaking in complaint as Zeta-7 crossed the room; gently removing it from your hands and putting it away. If he wasn't so darn sweet, you might actually manage to stay upset at him. “Thanks.”

Studying you, he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I'm s-s-so sorry princess. I promise I'll make it up to you.”

You knew he would for he always did and you followed him outside towards the car. Opening the driver's side door, he stood there, fiddling with the keychains, glancing at you, at the keys, then back at you. “It won't be long. Y-y-y-y-you know where I put the freeze ray, and where the switch for the security system is.”

“Yeah,” you answered, tugging lightly on the chain about your neck, revealing the lovely crystal you carried with you always. “and I still have the crystal necklace that I only have to squeeze to be transported to the safe room just in case.”

“Th-that's good. And the Meeseeks box is in the closet. I um - they'll help if you need them.”

“Got it. I guess I'll see you later then. Drive safely.”

You turned around to head back, having heard the car door close, thinking he was ready to go, but to your surprise, he spun you around and pulled you in for a kiss. Undemanding, he sought forgiveness on your lips, supporting you as you melted into him. When he pulled away a few seconds later, he softened. “Please don't be mad a-at me. I couldn't bear it if y-you were.”

“I'm not. Annoyed maybe, but not mad. I just wish you would've told me earlier. “ you admitted in your girlish voice. “It's nice to know these things. I had plans for us to go apple picking and thought we'd bake some apple pies together. I was really looking forward to it.”

Pressing a kiss on your temple, he sighed. “Gosh, th-that sounds perfect, but it's going to have to wait. I shouldn't neglect the repairs or else one of us c-could get hurt. I hope y-you understand.”

“I do. It's a good thing you're the responsible one. Someone has to be. Just, promise you'll be safe okay?”

“I-I will. Be careful on the front porch and inside the laundry room. There are a-a few old boards that have to be replaced.”

“Okay.”

Brushing a lock of hair away from your face, he nodded. “Bye, m-mi corazón.”

Leaning into his touch, you softened. “Return soon.”

“I will.”

You pulled away so that he would go, for he would never deliberately leave until he knew everything was alright. And when you couldn't see the car anymore, you stepped back into the house, avoiding the loose boards he had mentioned. Honestly, you didn't enjoy the idea of being left alone, especially in the middle of nowhere, but it did give you the time you needed to explore the place.

_____________

You glanced at the painting again, wishing it would talk back to you. What secrets did it hold? And why Rick, your Rick and not anyone else? Did they know there were others, or were they only acquainted with yours? Ugh, this was frustrating.

You sat back for a while, thinking of what you knew; Zeta-7 wasn't the type to pose for pictures let alone a painting, so this might've been done by memory. If it was done in the afternoon light, anytime after 4 would've been comfortable if it was done outside, but what if the lighting was symbolic as to timing and not so much literal? Oh, what did you know, except that you really hoped he wasn't holding a torch for her; if he was, it'd probably kill you.

However, since you were here, you decided to check out the other paintings. There were a few that you realized also weren't signed and done in a similar style. There was one of a Morpho butterfly, eating a ripe banana. Then there was one of a half-eaten picnic and a cake covered in bees. The one next to it was of a labcoat draped over a chair and a forgotten candy wrapper lying on the floor. And the last one on this wall was of a diseased blue rose bush.

How odd. The familiarity of these subjects and scenes filled you with a warm nostalgia of past adventures. Was it possible that their story was similar to yours? Of course, everyone had their story, and if your assumptions were correct, then all these unsigned pieces were by her as well as these memories that she portrayed; funny and uncanny that they should like Morphos, blue roses, picnics, and Rick just like you. The only difference is that you weren't an artist, but then while they were, they didn't think so either.

Maybe you could almost forgive this person because they had good taste in both men and painting subjects. Then again, maybe not.

____________

Unlike the movies, the basement was well furnished and pleasant. There was a couch, a bunch of boxes stacked in the closet, and a wall of books; as could be expected from a prolific reader. You tested the couch for comfort, finding that it was way better than the bed in your room. Getting up, you perused the shelves, happy to find all your favorites as well as a couple from your wishlist; lucky you.

Picking up a leather-bound copy of Persuasion, you laid back on the couch, fluffing up the old, but clean pillows. In your hands was a well-loved copy, possibly read more times than your own. The reasons this particular Jane Austen classic held much appeal was extensive, but the main ones were because it was a story waiting, of misunderstanding, forgiveness, and reconciliation. You always got lost in the old-fashioned customs and words and it never failed to move you. However, what moved you this time when you cracked opened the book were not elegant sayings or humorous witticisms but the photographs.

Used as bookmarks, there were several Polaroids of Rick; of him dancing in an ugly sweater; of him cooking; of him playing the ukulele; of him standing as his figure was filtered amongst spring blooms; of his hands full of sunflower seeds; and of a yard full of sunflowers. You stared at these photos, dumbfounded at the similarities between the subjects and your favorite things. This book and photos must've been from her too and Ricks age in these photos matched that of the painting. Damn it.

It couldn't be true, but even inside the cover, there was a small note from Zeta-7 explaining why he gifted this book; signed with love. No, none of it could be true. However, photographs didn't lie and it meant you weren't all that special. Not caring if you stained the beginning pages with your tears, your chest ached with regret and you couldn't breathe. All this time, when your wonderful Zeta-7 paid special attention to what you loved, claiming to love only you, never wanting to lose you had turned out to be a cruel game and a lie; you being beaten by the girl who loved him before; someone who was way better than you.

TBC