#granted there are rules in each of the eggs like blue means go get your beverage and hydrate and stuff like that

[hannahhasafact]

Dude today I went to an adult Easter egg hunt and then when I got home I watched a campy ass movie inspired by From Dusk Til Dawn featuring drag queens and it was fucking great

Being an adult is fucking awesome man this was a fun ass Easter

[quietmyfearswith]

tied to you ; deliveryman!august walker x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count —3,953  words

summary — in which august walker delivers grocery and somehow that delivers him straight to the love of his life

warnings —curse words, mentions of stalking, mentions of mean people, fluff??? 

pairing — august walker x fem!reader

a/n —feedback for this fic or any of my works is appreciated,, hope everyone is doing fine and staying safe ❤️

tagging —​ @iloveshawnieboi @la-cey​ @melancholyy-hill​ @beck07990​ @pedropcl​

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

“Fuck’s sake why am I doing this?” August groaned out as he walked down the aisle of the dry foods section of the grocery; Benji who was filling up the cart as he checked off all the grocery list of the customer answered his rhetorical question, “Well this is what you get for going against your father’s wish of accepting the CIA position that was being offered to you.”

He hit the back of his coworker’s neck as he pushed the cart as he followed him to the dairy section of the grocery, “I didn’t mean that, idiot! I meant why am I helping you out do these groceries when my job is to deliver them.”

Enjoying the sight of a whiny hulk of man groan about how he didn’t fancy picking out salted butter. “Well what’s the difference with picking out the items to you delivering them?” Glaring at the shorter man, he grabbed the carton of eggs that was indicated on the list. “For starters, I won’t have to deal with these sticky products.”

“Lucky for you we’re done with all those four orders,” Benji marked the orders as complete on the tablet as he pushed the cart towards the delivery area. August sighed out in relief, thankful that he didn’t have to deal with the sticky product labels — preferring to deliver the goods once they were wrapped in paper bags.

As he was loading up his delivery vehicle, August was softly humming as slid one of the last few crates in the back of the van. “‘Tis the last of them, Benji?” He shut the back of the van and received a nod from his closest friend from work. “And after that you’re free to go after delivering all of these.”

Pumping his fist slightly, he eagerly made his way to the driver’s seat and sighed out loud, “Last hour, Walker,” He lightly tapped the steering wheel as he glared at the road ahead of him, “One more hour and you’re done for the day.”

Turning on the radio, he hummed along to the familiar song that he once heard back in his years of highschool. The first household he had delivered to was a decent enough household — the mother was polite though her kids were a bit of jokesters who crowded their parent for Oreos yet were disappointed to find none; luckily however their other mother arrived with their desired snacks.

An elderly man was the second customer whom he delivered too; he was kind enough to give him some of the crocheted beanies he’s been making as a way to pass time. It was a pleasant combination of the colors blue, grey, and white — reminding him of his favorite winter jacket that his father had gifted him back then. Even though the sun was shining bright while the wind danced gently as it prodded his thick skin, he put the beanie on just as he was bidding adieu to the elder — it wasn’t just for show, but it also served as a wonderful reminder of the times he spent with his father.

As he knocked on the third door of the house he was supposed to deliver to, he was taken aback when a lousy man nearly spitted on his face as he clunkily greeted him. Another thing that rubbed him of the wrong way was how he brashfully dismissed him and quickly escorted him out of his house once he brought all of his groceries in himself.

“Last one for the day, Walker,” He chanted as he parked in front of the last house he was supposed to deliver to. After setting the car in park, he looked around to take in the surroundings as he drew his eyebrows together with slightly pursed lips, “Never been around this part of the neighborhood before.”

Hopping off the van, he headed to the back of the van and grabbed two of the paper bags and headed to the front door. His pointed elbow expertly rang the doorbell and stood still as he waited for the customer to open it. Truthfully, August wasn’t sure who or what was he expecting to greet him — but it certainly wasn’t a beautiful woman who was dressed with a pair of sweats and an oversized sweater.

“Oh! My groceries,” She smiled as she took the bags out of his grip and placed them by the floor near her coat hanger; after doing so she looked up at him so gently and sincerely that it helped snap him out of his dazed state, “There’s three more bags in the van; hold on and let me go get them all.”

“Don’t be silly, let me come and help you!” As he was heading to the parked car, she trailed behind him and tried to initiate a conversation, “So sorry about having so many groceries by the way. I just moved here and well, may have bought one too many items; but I just wanted to make sure I had a full stock for things.”

Once they both were faced with the remaining grocery bags, August handed her the one that weighed the least — relishing on how soft her skin was as they briefly grazed against each other — and carried the two that were leaning on the heavier side. “Don’t apologize for that, ‘m just doing my job and making sure your groceries get to you safely.”

“Does that involve you handing me the lighter bag?” She scrunched up her nose to him — and he thought that it was the most adorable expression he has ever seen on any living thing — and he shook his head and let out a soft laugh, “No it’s not that, just don’t a pretty woman like you stressing and lifting these kind of items.”

“So is that where you come in? You come in to save me and act as my knight in shining armor?” Y/N cut him off as she guided him to the dining room, she pointed to the table after she placed the bags down, “You can set those down over there.”

He nodded as he mimicked her actions, “Well I’m not sure that’s how I want to be known by you; how about I start off being known as your friend?” Surprised with how he responded, he covered him up his surprise with a boyish smile, “I can deal with that, I am bound to meet new people anyway,” She held out her hand and offered her name to him and took his soft hand in his rougher one, “I’m August, and welcome to the neighbourhood.”

Once their hands unclasped, Y/N then cleared her throat as she smiled at him, “Can I offer you a drink? Being out and about must have tired you out.” Her concern over his well-being was touching but her statement had him bulging his eyes as he remembered how technically he still was working, “Oh shit I need to get back so Luther can take the van out for his shift!”

She giggled at his panicked state and led him out the door, “It was very nice meeting you, August.” He looked at her with gloomy eyes as he apologized, “I’m sorry to cut our conversation short; but I promise to stick around longer next time.”

“Guess that means I’m gonna have to order something again next week huh?” Was her cheeky reply to him as she waved him off one final time.

“Benji! We can see the customer’s name once they place in an order, right?”

Pausing his movements halfway through his drinking of the hot chocolate he prepared, Benji suspiciously raised an eyebrow at his coworker, “Yeah we do; why’d you ask? You gonna stalk one of our customers?” His genuine concern of what his friend’s intentions were masked behind a nervous chuckle; but he was astonished to see faint traces of a blush appear on his cheek.

“Nothing like that, you moron!” August was quick to defend himself as he grabbed the tablet that was on the break table and scrolled through the application of the grocery store they were working for — each grocer had been assigned a certain amount of customers and from there they will be fulfilling their orders . His eyes lit up when he saw her name included in the list who ordered; he looked up at the top right of the screen, “Break’s over, Benj, let’s get back to work.”

As Benji threw the cup he drank on earlier in the trash as he craned his neck at his friend, “Why are you heading over to the aisles? Luther came in today and he’ll help me out with the grocery picking.”

“Let Luther pair up with Etahn, then we both can go together,” Came August’s reply as he carried the tablet on his way out of the break room. Holding a hand in his broad chest to stop him from coming out as Benji looked at him suspiciously, “What is up with you? Last week you were bitching about how you hated picking up peppers and now you're as giddy as Jack and Jill before they fell down after getting their water.”

Huffing out loud at his friend who wouldn’t budge and accept his mumbling response; with a sigh, August then had no choice but to vaguely share his encounter with a customer, “I met a girl the previous week as I was delivering groceries, and I saw her name in the list,” He gestured with his hands to try and divert the attention from his blundering state, “Just wanna make sure her groceries are filled up correctly.”

Rarely seeing his friend smile and be all giddy, he decided to tease him as they both carried on with their duty of picking out the products, “Look at the big bad wolf becoming such a softie for his crush huh? Who knew a girl was all it takes to get you to smile!”

Despite shooting daggers in Benji’s back as he picked up a bag of spinach, he was internally agreeing with what he said. After picking up everything that was on the list for their customers, August decided to pick up a bunch of fresh flowers for Y/N — he paid for it of course, it would be a dick move on his part if he were to charge it on her for it would thus spoil his surprise.

Similar to the last time, he decided to deliver to Y/N’s house last — in hopes that would grant him more time to bond with her. As he carried two bags while he rang her doorbell, he nervously shifted his weight between the heels and toes of his feet; but his nervousness eased away once the door opened to reveal her smiling face, “Fancy seeing you here, stranger.”

A wink accompanied her greeting as she removed her arm from the doorway, “These all the bags for today?” She immediately took the two bags that her arms were on his bulging ones; he held up a finger, “There’s one more! Can I bring it inside?”

She nodded as she tilted her head towards the kitchen, “I’ll leave the door open and you can head inside okay?” Nodding to her, he skipped over to the van to grab the last bag containing her groceries while the other hand carried the bouquet of sunflowers he picked out for her. Idiot, what if she’s allergic to flowers? He scolded himself as he entered through her front door.

As he entered inside her home once again, seeing her move around her kitchen as she began to organize her produce in their proper cupboards when he nervously declared his arrival, “Hey, here’s the last batch of your orders,” He slid the the bags on the dining table then held out the arrangement of the flowers to her surprised face, “And these are for you, lovely.”

Grabbing it from him, she smiled at him as she teased him, “Does this come with an extra charge?” Laughing at her antics, he tickled her sides and shook his head, “No mam! This one’s on the house.”

“Well thank you so much! Sunflowers are a beautiful symbol for hope,” Placing the flowers by the sink, she grabbed for the vase her next door neighbour gifted her with when she first moved in, “Any particular reason why you gave me flowers? Hope I didn’t miss the memo for any important event.”

Something about seeing her place the flowers delicately in the vase and fill it up with water filled his chest with joy; once again she shook his head, “No particular reason, just felt like giving a pretty girl something pretty too.”

“What a flirt you are!” She lightly hit his arm after placing the vase in the center of her table, “By the way, can I get you something to drink or eat?”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m good,” August assured her as he began helping her unpack the items she had ordered; unfortunately for him, the bag he was emptying was filled with hygiene and feminine products she ordered. Noticing what products he was left with, she quickly shoved the vegetable on the fridge as she came to him and removed the items from his hold, “Oh no no, don’t worry about those. I can clean those up.”

Opening his mouth to retort, he was about to assure that it wasn’t in any means awkward for him but she was already walking away with that bag and placing it in her bathroom, “Is this standard procedure by the way? Delivery drivers come into houses to help keep the groceries?”

“No it isn’t actually,” He shouted out so she could hear him even if they weren’t in the same area, “I only do so for the customers I wish to get to know you better.”

Coming back from the bathroom she then squinted her eyes at him as she crossed her arms while leaning against the doorframe, “And what am I? The fifth customer you’ve been intrigued with?” Walking to her with a smirk as he bopped her nose, “Luckily for me, you’re the first and I’m hoping you’ll be the last one too.”

Feeling her heart speed up at what he said paired with the sincere look he had on his face. Wanting to test the waters with how comfortable she was around him, “May I?” A hand gently hovered near her cheek; when granted the consent through a gentle nod, his palm lifted her chin gently as his thumb gently smoothed over the skin of her cheek lovingly. Smiling at each other, they silently took in each other’s beautiful features. As they were inching closer, their lips almost touching, until they were interrupted by the ringing of August’s phone.

Biting his lip as he groaned out and fished his phone out from his pocket as he muttered a quick apology to her as he checked the screen of his device, “I’m sorry about this, lovely. I have to go back to the grocery — they need me back there.”

Despite being disappointed with how he had to leave, she understandingly nodded and smiled at him, “Maybe next time try reaching out to me outside of your working hours?”

“I will, I promise,” He kissed her cheek and winked at her one last time before waving goodbye to her, “See you soon, lovely.”

She didn’t place an order for the following week — at first he thought that perhaps she did order, but not during his shift or perhaps while he was having his day off — but according to Benji who had access to seeing the entire history of orders, she didn’t place an order.

“Maybe she got sick of your face,” Benji teased as he placed the bag of spinach on the cart that the larger man was pushing down the aisle. “Way to help my self-confidence, Benji,” He grunted out as he got the bag of tomatoes that his coworker pointed out that was needed by their customer.

“I’m just worried that maybe something bad happened to her?” The thought had him worried and his friend didn’t read the memo that maybe he needed an uplifting message and not to contribute to his downward spiral of worry, “Well it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it right, Walker?”

He was almost gonna shove him off when Benji held up his hands and clarified what he meant, “You know her address, so what’s stopping you from dropping by her place to check if she’s doing well?” That made him pause for a bit, that thought never crossed his mind — but now that his coworker brought it up, he feared that it might come off as rude and stalker-ish.

“Wouldn’t she think of me as a creep just for knocking on her door?” His hands were starting to feel clammy as he pushed the grocery cart and began to list out the different ways his suggestion could go wrong; but all his friend could really have to say with a shrug was, “Guess there’s only way to find that out then, right?”

Standing in front of her front door, he was now cursing out at himself for following Benji’s advice. Wedged between his right underarm were the stems of the another bouquet of sunflowers he picked out for her while his left arm carried a paper bag-filled of chocolates, chips, and some cookies. If he recalled correctly, the items he briefly got to unpack for her were filled of feminine products that were useful for one had their period.

After ringing the doorbell, the door opened a few seconds to reveal Y/N who had messy hair and a tank top and a pair of sweatshorts, “Oh, August! Hi, how are you?” At the end of her greeting, her face wrinkled up in pain as she clutched her stomach, “I’m doing fine but I take it you’re not doing well?”

She nodded and frowned, “I’m sorry but it’s just been a rough few days; I don’t think now is a good time to have guests, I really am sorry.” Having a guest — despite the current one she has was someone whom she wanted to get to know better — while she was going through shark week might turn out for the worse due to her hormones and mood swings getting in the way of her interacting with them.

“Not to sound creepy or anything,” He said but thought that that’s how must come off as he continued, “But I figured that you might be going through something since I got a quick glimpse of your groceries the last time you ordered, so I hoped to bring you comfort with some flowers,” He handed her the fresh bouquet with a nervous grin, “And some comfort food,” He gestured to the paper bag and handed it over to her.

When she took the bag from him, she snuck a peek to see that it contained her favorite snacks and smiled warmly at him, “August, this is so adorable, thank you! Would you want to come in?” Stepping aside when he nodded yes, he smiled at her and closed the door behind him. “Wanna help me pig out everything you’ve given me?”

Following her to the couch, he laughed as they both sat down; opening the package of her favorite chocolate, she then turned to him, “Wait, are you working right now?”

“Nope,” He popped the sound of the letter p as he shrugged off his jacket and placed it on top of the arm of the couch, “I decided to drop by your place, and this time not during my shift, and see if you wanted some company?”

“Oh? And what would happen if I said no to you?” She grinned at him as she took another bite of the chocolate bar, “Then I’d be extremely disappointed but understand why — some of us just need space.”

Though understanding was practically the bare minimum, she had to give it to him for not being a dick. “You’re something else you know?” She said after swallowing down the tasty chocolate, “Charming and just the right kind of mysterious, I like it.”

“To be honest, I was hoping you would be soon liking me.”

Smiling wide at his admission, she then trailed her fingers along her hand, “And incredibly straightforward too; see you are just full of surprises huh?” They both laughed and he felt himself let loose and enjoyed how they both were bonding.

“It might be the wrong time, but maybe I can take you out on a date sometime?” That question could make or break it for what their relationship would entail, but he decided to stand by it.

“Instead of going out sometime, how ‘bout we have one right now?” She suggested, “You already brought some snacks, we can order in and watch some movies or shows too if you’d like?”

Unfortunately for him he could feel his cheeks redden, “And aren’t you a bold one too? And yes, I would love that idea.”

They then ordered food through a delivery app and decided to start an action movie; and wanting for some sort of comfort, she then moved to lean on August’s arm not before asking, “May I?” Nodding, he then draped an arm over her shoulders which allowed her to lay the side of her head across his chest.

Feeling the heat radiating off of him somehow reduced the discomfort she was feeling whereas August loved the feel of her skin against his, “I’m sorry this is how our first date goes,” She spoke suddenly when she looked up to him and smiled, “Hopefully you’ll warrant me worthy enough for a second one?”

Chuckling to himself, he shook his head, “You have no idea just how whipped I am for you huh?” Bopping his nose with her finger, he then answered her, “I think that maybe you can guarantee one by, I don’t know,” He shrugs his shoulders as he pretends to think for a few seconds, “Perhaps a kiss? Only if you’re fine with it though.”

“That simple?” Came her immediate response as she moved to sit on his lap, with her hands rubbing his stumbled cheeks. Leaning over to him, she smiled as she connected her lips with his; his hands pulled her closer to his body by dragging her by the hips. Their opened mouths became the venue for their intermingling tongues. Hands were clawing and feeling out every inch of them that they could reach.

Biting his bottom lip, she broke away from the intense kiss with a smirk, “Will that give me a second date with you, August?” The way she batted her eyelashes at him sweetly contradicted the way she sultrily said it and made him chuckle as he winked, “Even without the kiss, I was gonna give you another shot anyway.”

The doorbell once again rang and Y/N stood up and told her she was gonna go get the food; when she walked back to the living area with their food in hand, she handed August his order while she began eating hers, “We kinda did the whole thing backwards huh?” The grocery store worker then tilted his head to the side as he was curious with what she meant which prompted her to explain, “We made out first before having dinner and watching a movie!”

“Maybe so,” He said after swallowing down a portion of his meal, “But I’m not complaining since all of these led me to being with you.”

[hawksugarbaby]

Deku x reader- Minecraft millionaire

Fluff

A/N: I use Xbox so these are Xbox controlls but feel free to change them as you see fit

Izuku sat on his bed flicking his eye's from the facetime with you to the screen in front of him continuously holding the right trigger on his controller and chewing his lip. "Wait what level do you find diamonds?" he asked glancing at his coordinates in the corner and you jumped around the world trying to escape a creeper "Fuck i'm gonna die! i'm gonna die! please NO!" you yelped and decided it was time to dig a hole in the ground and block it off. "Sorry, what did you ask?" you look at the phone propped up against your laptop and chuckle at Izuku's face scrunched up in concentration "uh, what level do you find diamonds" he repeated not taking his eye off the screen filled with grey stone blocks and dot's of black for coal. "12 to 14, usually 13 is like the best place"

You answered uncovering the hole you had dug in just as a creeper passed over you and fell into your 3 by 1 grave. "NOOO!" you screeched as the green mob flashed white and you tried to jump out of the inescapable hole for a final moments peace but to no avail. The unmistakable sound of a muffled explosion and the respawn screen, lighting your face up red and you let out a fake cry. "Did you die?" he asked despite the obvious answer. "Yeahh" you answered with a heavy sigh and respawned at home, grabbing a spare wooden sword and jumping over to the spot of your death. If nothing else you'd get a lot of dirt?

Izuku muttered about hitting his head off every block and you snickered "I mean at least you learned your lesson about digging straight down" he huffed and flailed his arms creating a cold air around him "it wasn't my fault no one told me I shouldn't dig straight down!" he had a point, yes, but still you had presumed that even he would know such a basic rule "I know, I know" you say nearing the site of the explosion and start sprinting ignoring the band of mobs chasing you.

"HOW IS MY STUFF STILL HERE. IT WAS LITERALLY NEXT TO ME?!" you yelped in surprise but ran around the area gathering your stuff and spammed the Y button, automatically gearing up and switched your sword to your hotbar along with your enchanted pickaxe and cooked chicken.

"Maybe the minecraft gods granted you... something?" Izuku laughed and popped out of his mine running to his furnace and dropping in a stack of Iron. "(y/n) I hear you need some cobblestone" Izuku said running to your house across from his and down the basement to your storage area. You groaned begrudgingly trying to fend off an army of spiders who had made it a personal goal of theirs to off you. "Izuku please don't contribute to the cobble chest. I'm begging you. I don't need more cobble" you whined sprinting away with 5x more Xp than you originally had. "Do you have lapiz?" you asked raking through his chests to find the blue material.

Izuku opened the chest almost full with cobble and finished it off with 12 more stacks, leaving one or himself. The green achievement bar popped up at the bottom of the screen "Chestful of cobblestone" and you clicked your tongue pushing your hands together like a prayer in front of your mouth "IZUKU. I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD I'M GOING TO BURN YOUR COBBLE. STOP GIVING ME COBBLE, THAT GOES FOR ALL THE REST OF THE BOYS TOO!" your shouting could be heard throughout the dorm and some of the other minecraft players snickered to themselves.

Anytime, they had a stack or so of cobble, they would put it in one of your chests and it became a running joke for them to go "Hey (y/n) I heard you needed more cobble" and shove it in the chest despite your begging them not to. You had 3 chests of cobble but never got the achievement because you had burned the first 2 chestfulls before they could finish it off.

"Yes I have lapiz just give me a sec" he answered after your threat and jumped over to you. Meeting in front of your pumpkin farm you were jumping on. "If you fall you're gonna trample your crops" he said and you shrugged "that's what I have a diamond hoe for duh" you say in a bragging way as if having a diamond hoe of all things really just showed your wealth. You jumped off the pumpkin successfully not landing on your crops and spun around in front of Izuku as he threw lapiz at you "Is this what it's like to be a stripper" you chuckled and Izuku snorted at your joke. "Okay that's enough" you say, stopping him from throwing anymore and bouncing off to your enchantment table.

"I can't believe you had 4 extra diamonds and you made an enchantment table and a hoe" he sighed grabbing all the iron from his furnace and spinning to the crafting table to make a new pickaxe and a bucket for milk. He was determined to make a cake just as much as getting diamonds but there was a lack of cows due to bakugo's anger issues when he was in the server. "What would you even have done with them!?" "I COULD HAVE BOOTS (y/n)!" he shouted back and you purse your lips. He could have had boots...

"Okay well I'm sorry I'm rich and have full diamonds" you shrug and he looked up from his controller looking straight forward pinching the bridge of his nose "your a bitch" he laughed and started back down his mineshaft complaining about the steps hitting his head again. "You love me really" you chuckle and he rolls his eyes with a smile "yeah I know" you glance at the facetime and smile, 8 hours, 29 minutes 43 seconds you'd been on a call just playing minecraft in the server you ran for "the lads" as it had been dubbed.

"OOH IZUKU I JUST GOT FORTUNE 3 ON MY DIAMOND PICKAXE!" you exclaim, celebrating by jumping up and down. "Sweet! You're gonna have endless coal!" he laughed and you punched the air excitedly "so much Xp!" "we have an Xp farm" he retaliated and you pouted "Let me be exited" you whined and he awed "sorryyy" he said dragging it out for effect and you huffed "better be."

Izuku's inventory quickly filled with cobble, coal, and iron again, the occasional redstone for Xp and fuck gold, gold sucks. He stumbled into a cave, a platform of stone and on each side was a pool of lava. But Izuku's eyes lit up and he gasped "OH MY GOD!" he shouted digging through the wall to get to the prize. "WHAT!" you shouted back, busy breeding the chickens and throwing eggs in the overcrowded pen. "Sorry but some of you guys have gotta go" you muttered brandishing your iron sword, specifically named "the chicken killer" since you didn't want to waste your diamond sword on chickens. "DIAMONDS!" he shouted back building a platform around the edge of the lave he could walk on and building under the diamonds for safety.

"OH OH MY GOD WAIT THERE AND I'LL MINE THEM FOR YOU!" you say abandoning the chickens and jumping over to his house again. "wait why. This is my moment I've literally never found diamonds and you're gonna take them from me" he asked looking at the phone, your face twisted with concentration. "Because I have fortune 3 and I can make 8 diamonds like 24" you said. "can I mine these ones and tell you when I find more instead I want to mine my own first diamonds." you stopped at the entrance jumping up and down in frustration "okay fine"

As Izuku ventured further into the cave earning probably half a new chest worth of cobble he shouted for you. "I found more diamonds." you immediately sprang into life holding the left stick to go down quicker. "Okay yeah this is really inconvenient" you agreed about bumping your head on the way down and landed at his shaft. "Uhh which way am I going" you asked. "Left" he said. You followed the trail of torches and Izuku's name tag that got bigger the closer you were eventually running into the same square as him. "Move back I can't see" you instructed and he scooted backwards.

You swung the enchanted pickaxe collecting the aqua gems and throwing them at izuku. "That's like 20 something," you said, shrugging at the phone and running off back home. "That was 28" he said running after you to finally make his full iron armor and tools "I have 33 in total" he grabbed sticks from his unorganised chests that you despised and for the first time, made diamond armor in minecraft.

"Oh my god he's wearing BLUE! It doesn't match your colour scheme" you cried shielding your eyes and looking away. "Sorry (y/n) let me just dye my diamonds green real quick" he said, throwing an emerald at you and you feigned shock. "A MIRACLE. TRULY"

"Okay I wanna enchant it" he said following you to the enchantment table. "We do have those enchanted books if you want something specific?" you said but he shook his head "nah i'm doing it old fashioned" he said standing at the enchantment table and taking his time going through, enchanting each item with its purple iridescence.

"What did you get?" you asked, jumping around him excitedly and he hovered over each item. "Respiration on the helmet, projectile protection and unbreaking, wait I got unbreaking as well?" he asked looking at you through the facetime "it does that sometimes" you shrugged and he raised his eyebrows and hummed with the newfound knowledge. "Those on chestplate, protection on the jeans-" "leggings" "whatever, and feather falling on the boots" he said putting all his armor back on and going over his tools "efficiency on the pickaxe, efficiency on the axe, unbreaking on the hoe, unbreaking on the shovel, and fire aspect on the sword" he said stabbing a chicken that immediately went up in flames. "Roast chicken for life!" you cheered.

"Okay you have your full diamond now come to the nether" you said standing in the swirling portal and Izuku whined. "Literally what for!" he asked standing next to you despite his disinterest and the loading screen popped up. "For that Xp, gotta get that nether quartz" you said jumping to a clump of nether quartz and letting the green spheres fall on you watching the bar go up. "(y/n) What's the bridge for?" he asked walking over to the bridge ignoring the magma slime jumping toward you.

"What bri- AGH FUCK NO NO YOU CUBE FUCKING BITCH THINK YOU CAN JUMP ON ME LIKE I'M SOME WHORE WHO DO YOU THINK I AM" (A real thing i've said playing minecraft with my friends) he turned around just as the magma divided into 4 then each of those into another 4 until there were none. "Don't go on that bridge you will absolutely die" you warned and he backed up onto the bridge anyway. You were surprised he even made it halfway before a ghast needed to tell him his place and shoot him right into the neon orange below. "YOUR FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT"

Bonus content

Kaminari, bakugo, and kirishima all joined the call loading up minecraft not expecting to get an earful of your abuse to Izuku who was crying into his controller "I FUCKING TOLD YOU NOT TO GO ON THE BRIDGE BECAUSE A GHAST WOULD KNOCK YOU OFF BUT WHAT DID YOU DO. GO ON THE BRIDGE. I LITERALLY JUST GOT YOU THOSE DIAMONDS ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME YOU BROCCOLI. I WASTED MY FORTUNE BUFF ON YOU."

You loved him really. But you would never be taking him to the nether again.

A/n: What is your relationship with Izuku here? That's for you to decide. Also these are all things that have happened to me while in minecraft with my friends.

[whisker-biscuit]

Home Is Where The Hedgehog Is

Fandom: Sonic Movie (2020)

Rating: G

Summary: Living with Donut Lord and Pretzel Lady is super fun, even if there are dumb rules he has to follow sometimes. Sonic is going to hold onto it with everything he has.

The first in a one-shot collection of a hyperactive hedgehog trying his best to fit in with his newfound family, and two humans who want him to know he doesn't need to try at all.

MAJOR spoilers for the Sonic Movie!

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Living in a house was much different than living in a cave.

For starters, the draft wasn’t nearly as bad, even when Sonic forgot to close the attic window at night. And now he had an actual, honest-to-goodness bed to burrow into when it really was that cold. Came with a blanket and pillow too, deluxe model!

The other thing that was different was the company, Tom and Maddie and Tom’s so-called “best friend”. Maybe he should have mentioned that one first, but hey, a hedgehog could only focus on so many new changes at one time.

Speaking of changes, a personal alarm clock wasn’t something he was expecting this morning.

“Good morning, Sonic!” Maddie’s head poked up past the attic trapdoor.

“Mmph…” The teen mumbled, curling into a tighter ball under the covers like it would make him invisible.

The woman hoisted herself up from the ladder and made her way to his side. “Come on, you promised you’d go to bed early tonight, so you can’t be complaining now. It’s time for breakfast, up and at ‘em.”

“Food?” A pair of ears perked out from the quill ball. Sonic’s head popped up soon after. “What kind of food?”

“Guess you’ll have to get up to find out, won’t you?” She winked at him and ruffled the fur on his forehead, then started heading back to the ladder.

There was a whoosh of wind and the pitter-patter of impossibly fast feet against the wooden floor, and suddenly Maddie was all alone in the attic.

“Come on slowpoke, I’m hungry!” Sonic called up to her from the hallway before he zoomed into the kitchen, sliding to a halt just in time to avoid crashing into the kitchen island. Tom was busy loading up three plates with eggs and bacon. He didn’t even flinch at the boy’s arrival.

“Morning, Sonic. What took you so long?” The man raised an eyebrow with a bit of a smirk as his comment made the hedgehog pout.

“It’s not my fault, you guys didn’t even wake me up! Ooh, is that my plate?”

“Ah, not yet,” Tom grabbed the offending plate and held it up out of Sonic’s reach. “Go wash your hands first.”

“But Tooooom…”

“You heard me the first time.”

“Ugh, fine. Why you hafta be such a stickler for rules? You were more fun on the road trip.”

“That’s because –” the man blinked and the teen was no longer there. He sighed good-naturedly as Maddie arrived looking just as frazzled.

“Day one,” she said with a smile and a slight giggle. Her arms found their way around his waist as he scraped grease off the skillet. “This might take some getting used to.”

“You’re telling me.” He tilted his head back to sneak a quick kiss to her cheek. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Me neither.” The woman hummed against him. A breeze picked up.

“Hey, if you wanted to do lovey-dovey couple things you coulda just said that.” Sonic sat at the table with his arms folded, kicking his legs out and giving them a scrunched up look like he couldn’t decide whether to be grossed out or resigned.

Maddie laughed and gave her husband another kiss, then released him from her hold to help carry their food. Tom shook his head, giving the boy a look. His response was a smirk and eyes too large to be innocent.

“Okay smart aleck, I expect to see that plate clean before you even think of excusing yourself from this table.”

By the way Sonic was eyeing the food laid out in front of him, it didn’t seem like a hard task.

Through breakfast, the three of them ate and chatted together like they had been doing it for years. There were a few mishaps – Sonic had a very bad habit of talking with his mouth full, and accidentally ratted Tom out when the man tried to sneak some bacon to the dog – but the energy didn’t wane at all. It wasn’t until Maddie pulled Sonic over to help her with the dishes that things started to quiet down. Tom, having made breakfast this time and contractually not required to help this time, went to change into his uniform.

The woman was making small talk as she washed the food off and handed each item to the teen to place in the dishwasher, and he’d occasionally interject with comments or questions. Just as they finished, however, Maddie noticed as she dried off her hands that Sonic had stopped talking entirely and was just staring at the hand towel she’d given him.

“Something on your mind?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I mean no, it’s fine.” He was quick to toss the towel on the counter and rubbed the back of his head. “I just realized that I’ve never done this before.”

“Washing dishes?”

“That too but…all of it, I guess. It’s kinda weird. You guys have this whole routine thing going on and that’s cool, but for me it feels…. I dunno, more important? It’s dumb.”

He was starting to fidget in place, obviously wanting to say or do something else but not sure how to bring it up. Maddie frowned a little in thought and crouched so she was at the hedgehog’s level.

“Do you mean eating breakfast? Or – ah.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “You know, having company in everyday things is nice. I used to take it for granted.”

Sonic looked at her sharply. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Tom and I married not long before I started vet school. We had been so used to being around each other for every little thing that it felt like they weren’t ‘special’ anymore. I think that’s how it can get for a lot of people, honestly. But when I started school, we didn’t see each other nearly as often. I was gone all day for classes, and he had to pick up a second job to help make ends meet, which usually meant evening shifts. We barely had the chance to even sit down for a decent meal together, most days.”

The teen’s expression was opening up into something more vulnerable. “Was it hard?”

“Very hard. We still loved each other, so not being able to just be together without work or school in the way made it hard sometimes. But it was because we loved each other that those times we could just sit back and relax became so much more precious. It’s been a while since those days, but I try not to forget the feeling.”

She reached out and took his hand, making sure to keep steady eye contact. He was stock-still.

“It’s alright to find joy in doing things with people, even if they’re simple things like eating breakfast or doing chores. No one’s going to think it’s strange that you’re loving it. Especially not me or Tom. Okay?”

Sonic was staring at their connected hands. There was a barrier around his emotions in that moment that looked very close to crumbling. With a quiet sniff and a nod, he gave her a huge grin.

“Okay.”

Tom’s voice from the other room broke the moment.

“Why’d it get quiet all of a sudden? You two aren’t planning my untimely demise right now, are you?”

“You bet your badge we are!” The hedgehog called back, already settling into his more common mischievous persona. He made a motion to zip away, then stopped to give Maddie a tight hug first. She almost lost her balance from the impact but returned it anyway.

“Thanks, Maddie.”

“Always, kiddo.”

A blur, a whoosh, and he was gone.

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A/N: I'm back on my Sonic kick from forever ago, and there's no obvious end in sight. I love the found family trope, I love that it happened in the movie, and I love that Sonic is allowed to express real negative emotions (screw you Sega, do our blue boy justice). Have no idea how many of these I'm going to do nor how long they might get, nor do I know if they’ll all stay rated G. We’ll see.

[prolestariwrites]

The Wish [1]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC  Rating: General  Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

A/N: Hooray for a new story! This story takes place sometime between DMC4 and DMC5. Thank you to @solynacea for reading and lending her OC for this fic. If you’re read Promise Me Forever you might recognize Lir, but she is completely different in this fic, so I hope you like it! I’ll be publishing about every week since I’m mostly finished. Your comments are always appreciated, and you can check this out on AO3 and FFNet too!

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Chapter 1: Be Careful What You Wish For

“Nero!” Dante’s voice echoes down the hallway as he peers through the rush of demons, swinging Rebellion as best as he is able as he scans for him. “You good?”

“Need help already?” The kid sounds nearby, but down a ways, and Dante snorts at the smart-aleck response. He bites back a response, remembering what it was like to be nineteen and feel invincible, to have power and stamina and enjoy the rush of killing demons.

It’s different now that he is older, the moves as familiar as breathing, the enemies mundane as paint drying. Meeting Nero and getting to know the kid, training him, especially with his suspicions all but confirmed, has breathed new life into the legendary devil hunter: but it’s still just a regular Friday night, clearing out another warehouse that houses another cell of demons for another client that’s just going to bitch about the holes left in the walls.

Dante continues pushing forward, slicing off arms and heads as he goes. There has to be a queen mother up ahead; no way this many slipped through a portal, these babies were bred. Maybe getting to the big bad will be interesting, and then he and Nero can stop before going into Fortuna to get a drink or six. Maybe he’ll even let Dante crash on the couch, now that he and Kyrie have set up in a house in town and have the room.

The drone of Red Queen suddenly cuts off, the lack of white noise catching his attention. “Nero?” he calls again, but this time instead of a snarky comment two shots ring out in response, followed by the entire building shaking as a roar goes up from inside. “Nero!” Dante shouts, slicing as he doubles his speed, actually trying now so he can find the kid and find out why the hell he needed his gun in such close quarters. Either he forgot one of Dante’s rules for demon hunting (“don’t shoot a gun in a tight space, dumbass”) or he’s in trouble.

Turns out it’s trouble—well, sort of. They are on the third floor, having been going methodically through each level to clear it out, and when Dante skids to a stop in the central part where the elevators are, he finds them gone. Instead, there is a huge hole where the elevators used to be, the concrete and iron in a heap below them where it had collapsed.

He looks up to see Nero on the other side of the giant hole, wiping his brow with his forearm. “You okay, kid?” Dante calls over.

“Yeah,” Nero shouts with a bit of a laugh. “I got them corralled but I guess the weight was too much. Just managed to jump out of the way.”

Dante shakes his head. “Stay there and I’ll come get you.”

“Nah, I got this. There’s gotta be a set of fire stairs at the end.” Nero points Red Queen towards the dark hallway behind him. “Let’s make sure that was the last of them. I’ll meet you at the bottom.”

“Yeah.” Dante sighs as he watches Nero go, and then looks around at where the floor and elevators had broken from the supports and given way. No way the weight made this happen; you could probably park a semi in here and it would hold. The building is structurally sound, supposed to be anyway, and it would take more than a few dozen demons to knock a hole in it. No, something made the floor collapse, and his gaze goes upwards, wondering where the queen bee could be hiding.

Dante doubles back and finds his staircase, taking the steps two at a time upwards. The hallways are eerily empty after the deluge in the bottom floors, and he stalks carefully through, checking each office. The damn place has a thousand places to hide, so there is no telling where the big bad could be.

On the top floor, lucky number seven, he hits the jackpot. The second he steps out from the stairwell Ebony and Ivory are drawn as he picks his way through the nest that covers the walls and floor and even ceiling. The emergency lights give a weird glow to everything, but his demon eyes can see clearly in the dim light as he listens carefully for movement.

He finds the demon in the corner office, thinking it has good taste and laughing at his own joke. At first he doesn’t see the queen, but a shift in the air catches his eye and he fires both guns into the dark, smiling at the sound of bullets making their impact.

With a wail it emerges from the shadow, clutching its chest. “What did you do that for?” the demon yells.

“Eviction notice, numbnuts,” he says. “Time to head back to wherever the fuck you came from.”

“I can’t,” the demon argues. “I have my eggs to hatch, my babies to look after—”

“Babies?” Dante chuckles, scratching his head as he places his other hand on his hip. “Sorry, I think I killed all of ‘em.”

The demon snarls. But instead of threatening him, Dante is surprised when it asks, “What do you want?”

“What?” he blinks.

“What do you want? To leave me alone?”

Dante huffs. “Don’t work like that, sweetheart.”

The demon moves closer and he aims his guns again. It starts to unfold itself from its spot, and Dante’s eyebrows go up to see it’s probably almost seventeen feet tall, completely squished into the office. “My name is Veguaniel,” it says. “I am the demon of fortune.”

“Good for you.”

“How much do you want?” the demon asks. “How much are you being paid to kill me? I can double it. Triple it even.”

“Are you serious?” he groans. “I don’t do this for the money.”

The demon looks him up and down. “That’s obvious.”

“Watch it.” He points the guns at its head, and the demon shrinks back a bit.

“I want to pay you! I can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams! You’d never have to slaughter the innocents like me again!” Dante snorts as it tilts its head. “You can’t possibly like doing this.”

He cocks the hammer on each gun. “Not about liking it. About paying the bills.”

The demon gives an annoyed huff. “This is what I’m saying. I can make you rich. I can buy you whatever you want. There’s got to be something you’d rather be doing than this. Would you like a mansion? A yacht? How about a palace?”

Dante chuckles to himself, but admits it’s almost tempting. Suppose this demon has some fortune granting power? He tries to think of himself as some fancy millionaire and fails. To be honest, all he would really want is a nice house and a nicer bike. Maybe work on engines, build things? Meet a pretty girl with a sharp wit and killer smile and settle down, like Nero and Kyrie have.

“This is stupid,” he says. “Not gonna happen.”

“So why do you do it?” it asks. “There must be something a god of fortune can give you for one tiny, little favor.”

Dante growls under his breath, his patience out. “I’m a devil hunter because I’ve been hunted by demons my whole life,” he snaps. “Ever since you fuckers came down on my house when I was a kid, killed my family, and then made my life miserable. Getting paid is just a bonus.”

“Hmmm.” A tentacle slithers out and taps on the demon’s cheek, as if it is thinking. “Did that make you sad?”

“What?”

“Did losing your family and all that make you sad?”

“What the hell? Of course it did!” Dante snaps. “But I don’t see why—”

“So you wouldn’t be a demon hunter if they hadn’t died, is that it?” The demon’s voice trails off, and Dante frowns. “I can grant you a fortune that has nothing to do with money. Would you like your family back?”

He grits his teeth, anger starting to bubble. “Shut the hell up.”

The demon bares its teeth in a grotesque smile. “Done.”

The floor gives way, and Dante shouts as he falls, firing upwards. He gets a glance of the demon waving to him just moments before he lands headfirst on the concrete and the world goes black.

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The squeak of the shower turning on wakes him. Dante opens his eyes and immediately regrets it, pain piercing his temples like an ice pick to the brain. “Damn it,” he sighs, reaching up to rub his forehead.

The ceiling is white, not the faded yellow of his place, so he figures he must be at Nero’s. Damn, did the kid have to find him and save his ass? He’ll never live this down, and as he stretches his stiff limbs he sighs and closes his eyes again.

He remembers the warehouse and the demons, and Nero getting separated. Then he had found the head at the top of the building and it had… asked him about his family? Dante frowns, pressing the heel of his hand against his eyes. Demons are getting fucking weirder by the day.

He enjoys the few minutes of quiet until the shower turns off. Dante sighs, moving to roll over and sit up. Either Nero or Kyrie are in there, so he figures he’ll go downstairs and give them privacy, but when he sits up he notices two things. First, he’s in just his boxers, which is weird because that means Nero undressed him. Also, he doesn’t own boxers, preferring to let his junk ride free, knowing the ladies liked how it looked in tight denim.

Second, their bedroom is way different than it was. He’s been there a few times but he helped Nero paint the house and their bedroom was definitely green. Dante remembers this because Nero had bitched about the color to him because he couldn’t to Kyrie. But the bedroom is now a soft shade of blue, and he wonders if the kid finally confessed that the color sage reminded him of puke.

The door to the bathroom opens and a woman walks out wrapped in a towel. He blinks when it’s immediately obvious it is not Kyrie: this one is shorter, slimmer, her platinum hair almost white like his and falling in a trendy bob style at her shoulders. The woman takes no notice of him, moving to a set of drawers and opening the top one.

“Uh, excuse me?” Dante says.

The woman looks over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Who are you?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes. “Har har, very funny.” She goes back to pulling out clothes and says, “I know I said I’d never work on a Saturday, but Jenny’s kid is sick and I didn’t have the heart to make her come in. But I promise it’s only a half shift, and I’ll be home by two.”

That doesn’t answer his question at all, but before he can point that out she drops the towel. Dante spins quickly, his heart pounding as he yanks the sheet up over his lap, hissing, “What are you doing?”

“I told you, I’m covering for Jenny. It’ll be easy enough for a Saturday. It’s a nice day out, nobody goes to the library when it’s sunny.” Dante peeks over to see her thankfully wearing a bra and panties, which he stares at for a moment before remembering he shouldn’t be staring. He looks down at his own lack of clothes and frowns, wondering if it’s her house he slept in. Does that mean they had sex? Maybe he and Nero made it to the bar after all and he got lucky?

Not bad, he thinks as he looks back to where she is shimmying on a pair of jeans. She’s cute enough at least, gorgeous even, although he wishes he could remember her name. “Hey, uh—”

“Don’t forget to be ready by five,” she says, rolling on deodorant. Then she glances over at him and frowns. “You okay?”

“No. Yes. Sorry, five?”

Dante frowns and she laughs. “Yes. Reservations are at five-thirty and you know if we’re a minute late your brother will start complaining.”

That gets his attention, and Dante feels the blood drain from his face. “My… brother?”

“Yes. It’s your parents’ anniversary. Remember?” Dressed now, she runs a brush through her hair as she sighs. “Please tell me you didn’t forget. This has been planned for weeks.”

Dante jumps up and stalks towards her, pulling the brush from her hand and grabbing her elbow to turn her. She only comes up to about his shoulders, and his expression goes menacing as he glares down at her surprised one. “What do you know about my parents?”

“Dante, what in the world? What is wrong with you?” The concern in her voice tempers him a bit, and she pulls her arm away to press a palm to his cheek. She examines his eyes closely as she asks, “Are you feeling okay? Did you hit your head or something? You look strange.”

“I…” I fell, he wants to say, but she brushes his jaw gently. “Why don’t you take it easy today? You’ll have the whole house to yourself. Get some coffee and just relax, and when I get home we’ll see how you feel, okay?”

Did losing your family and all that make you sad? Where did that come from? “What about my parents?” he asks again harshly.

She takes a steady breath. “It’s the thirteenth. Their fiftieth wedding anniversary. We’re all going out to dinner to celebrate.” Then she rubs his arm gently, and it’s then that he notices the band on her ring finger. His eyes go wide, and startled, he looks at his own left hand, where a matching gold band sits on his fourth finger.

His blood is pounding in his ears so loudly he barely hears her goodbye. “Just stay home and relax,” she says, and when she reaches up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek it pulls Dante back to the present.

He watches her walk through the room and grab her purse just as she reaches the door. Then he is left blinking as the door shuts, the sound of his raging heartbeat still thundering in his ears.

[supersecretsanderssides]

Hello My Old Heart (One-shot)

Ships: Logicality  Summary: What better protection is there than a high tower? Word Count: 4776 Accompanying Song: Hello My Old Heart, The Oh Hellos Warnings: Very brief mention of drugs, some swearing, and Deceit (trying his best to be helpful) AN: Logicality angst! Get your logicality angst here! Happy ending guaranteed! Betaed by @gayatthedancingdragon  AO3

The tower was built up brick by brick, every day growing taller and more secure. It seemed to be far away from everything else, though one need only walk through a little door by the kitchen to get to the hill it sat atop.

It was Logan’s idea.

Which you may find surprising, but when Patton fell to his knees and wept like he’d never wept before, Logan was the only one who could come with anything that even remotely smelled like a solution.

And when Patton screamed and cried that he was done- so unbelievably fed up- with himself and with others and with feelings (oh, how they all grew to loath the word), Logan’s idea didn’t sound as far fetched as it had when he first proposed it.

So Roman built a door and a hill behind it and they started to work.

Brick.

By brick.

By brick.

By brick.

By brick.

By brick.

They built a spiral staircase to the door at the very, very top and once Patton was behind it, they locked it tight.

Logan kept the key on a chain the others didn’t know he wore around his neck.

When they reached the bottom of the staircase, they locked the door there, too and that key joined the first. Finally, they sealed the door by the kitchen and bolted it. This key Logan put in a little key dish on top of the refrigerator.

And that was that.

At first, Logan was firm that no one open any of the doors, but when Virgil came to him in the dead of night a week after the keys were put up to say that Roman’s work was suffering because of the lack of enthusiasm and emotion in the mind space, Logan finally caved. If only a little.

“Why didn’t he come to tell me this himself?”

“He was afraid of sounding too… needy, I guess?” Virgil tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie and shrugged. “Don’t shoot me,” he said. “I’m just the messenger.”

Logan brought it up at breakfast, a cold and quiet affair with lukewarm eggs and burnt bacon, the next morning. Roman spun his spoon around in his cereal mindlessly and shrugged.

“I can’t… I can’t name it exactly, but I… I need his… input, I guess, on what I do. He’s, like, the why behind the what. Does that make sense?”

“I believe so,” Logan said. “However, I must advise against going to see him. I realize that things are and have been different, and they will continue to be, but we need to adapt to this… for lack of a better word- inconvenience in order to protect Patton from harm. I fear that if you visit him, it will endanger both your ability to function without him and his safety.”

“But our work is going to suffer! There’s no- no- no reason behind doing the things we do without him. Surely a short visit won’t do too much harm?”

“It’s kinda like drugs,” Virgil said.

“I beg your pardon? I am not a drug addict.”

“Oh, no,” Logan said, “I see what you mean. Wean ourselves off his presence little by little, rather than just cutting him out completely. I would have likened it to a child being weaned off their parent’s milk, but I suppose the idea was still there with the drug comparison.”

“Thanks…?”

“So, does this mean I can go?” Roman asked hopefully. “I can see him?”

Logan hadn’t planned on letting anyone see Patton. He rationalized that it would be detrimental to let anyone in the mindscape get hung up on their Heart’s absence, but he’d forgotten that the others felt much more than he did. It would be more difficult for them to let this go and as much as it irritated him, Logan found himself granting both Roman and Virgil permission to see Patton once a week. Separately. Never for more than an hour. Never to take anything more that their current project and a small pre-approved gift. No saving hours to add them up.

The two took advantage of their time every week without fail for six weeks.

Logan didn’t take advantage of the hours he didn’t give himself because he didn’t need them. Both he and Patton could complete their primary objectives without each other. He didn’t need Patton to be content and Patton didn’t need him to visit.

He still kept the keys on the chain around his neck that nobody knew about.

Deceit was in his room often for unknown reasons. He made himself very comfortable, lounging on Logan’s bed, reading Logan’s books, and generally disturbing Logan’s stuff. But he wouldn’t leave, so Logan kind of just accepted his presence and ignored it to the best of his ability.

It still bothered him, though.

Deceit visited Patton when he felt like it. Logan didn’t mind because “when he felt like it” tended to end up working out with everybody else’s visiting hour rules. He never took two consecutive weeks and never took a pre-approved gift. Or un-approved gift, for that matter.

Six weeks after the first visit, Logan decided to wean a little bit. Two weeks between visits. One hour. Projects and pre-approved gifts. No consecutive weeks.

Whereas the difference in Roman and Virgil’s behavior was vaguely noticeable before the switch, their attitudes and auras quickly became more melancholy and sad after it.

“No,” Deceit told him one night as Logan faced his computer, tapping away at the keyboard. “They’re more apathetic. You’ve noticed. They care less and less every day.”

Logan couldn’t decide whether or not he was telling the truth.

In the seven weeks that Logan had curled up in his bed at an ungodly hour without Patton telling him to get some rest, he had fallen asleep with his fingers wrapped tightly around the keys at his chest. He had fallen asleep watching the pale blue glow of his alarm clock take a new shape and walk towards him. He had fallen asleep to feeling the imaginary fingers of his air vents pulling at the ends of his hair.

In the seven weeks that the Mind had been without his Heart, Logan did not visit Patton.

He claimed not to miss him and not to need him. I’m sure you no longer wonder why Deceit sat in the periphery of his vision so often.

If you ever found yourself wondering it at all.

As time went on, the permitted visits got fewer and farther between. They were shortened. Forty-five minutes. Thirty. Twenty. Fifteen.

Roman and Virgil stopped coming back from their visits as happy as they once had. And though Logan denied it to himself and the snake camped out in his room, he, in the very back of his mind where the things he didn’t think lived and died, worried that their despondency had something very much to do with a travail of Patton’s.

But speaking of foul, legless creatures, Deceit had, in recent weeks, taken up near permanent residence in Logan’s room, making himself a… mattress? out of pillows and blankets of unknown origin in the corner of Logan’s bedroom by the door. Logan tripped on it every time he walked in.

Mattress wasn’t the right word… Far from it, but for some reason… for some reason Logan couldn’t think of the word he did want to use.

The other two didn’t notice Deceit. Logan supposed that might be part of his natural “charms” and recalled several instances when the stupid hat had been exchanged for a pair of glasses or a crown and cited it as his evidence.

God above, what was that word?

“He’d know it,” Deceit said, calmly picking scales off his hand and dropping them onto Logan’s carpet. “If you ever bothered to go see him, you’d know it, too.” Since moving into Logan’s room, he had become far too at ease with calling out Logan’s every bluff and misstep.

“There is nothing he could or would do to remedy this vernacular situation,” Logan said, shoving a trash bin in Deceit’s direction with his foot. “I do not need to visit him. I don’t need him and he doesn’t need my imposition, anyway.”

Scales continued to fall to the floor, despite the bin half a foot away. “What- exactly- is he doing up there that would be hindered by your ‘imposition’?”

“He’s safer up there without us-”

“You didn’t answer the question. Answer the question.”

“I-”

“Never mind, stop, you’re already wrong.” Deceit sat up straight and fixed Logan with a hard look. “He’s not doing anything. You’re running around with keys hanging around your neck, saying you’re doing all of this to protect him. And you’re lying.”

“How… How did you know about…?”

“The keys? Logic, I’ve been with you every waking hour since you locked him up, whether you realized it or not. It wasn’t hard to figure out.” He sat back again, crossing his arms and his legs. “I understand your wanting to protect him- that’s literally my basic purpose, I get it- but this isn’t the way to go about it. He’s wasting away up in that tower and you’re suffering down here. Hell! We’re all suffering down here!”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” Logan snapped. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re Deceit. You’re lies. You don’t know anything about- about why he’s there or how he agreed to all of this or how well we’re doing without him or why I need him away somewhere safe where he can’t get hurt because I-” Logan slammed his mouth shut and glared at the floor.

The most emotion he’d felt in months welled up in his throat.

“And then there was the crux of the issue,” Deceit said simply, returning to his molting. “Believe me, don’t believe me. See if I care. But let me ask you this. Why do you think I set up camp here? I trust you’re smart enough to know what the truth is. Aren’t you, Logic?”

Logan didn’t respond.

Logan didn’t think.

Logan barely let himself breathe.

“Yes,” Deceit said finally. “I think you are.”

And then he disappeared, leaving Logan alone with the thoughts he wasn’t thinking and the emotions he wasn’t feeling and breath he wasn’t breathing.

The crux of the issue? He asked himself. Yes, he knew exactly what the crux of the issue was. Why here? Yes, he knew that, too. In his heart, he knew everything. Everything he needed to know. Too bad his heart was locked away.

He wrapped his fingers around the keys, trying to feel for the little bit of comfortable familiarity he was trying not to let himself miss. A wave of emotion hit him full force in the hand and dragged through his body, bringing him to his knees and bringing him to tears before disappearing completely.

Logan, in his locked away heart, knew what that meant.

Fortunately, it seemed his mind was finally starting to understand it, too.

He could only hope it wasn’t too late.

He waited until Deceit was sleeping in his- what was the goddamn word?- bed-thing, before creeping out of his room and tip-toeing to Virgil’s.

“Logan? What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you. Is now a bad time?”

“I- I mean, no-”

“Great.” Logan brushed past him into the room and sat down on the bed.

“Logan, what’s-”

“Virgil, what is your primary purpose? As an entity- a ‘side’?”

“Well, I mean, I’m Anxiety…” Virgil pulled at his hoodie sleeves but Logan noticed, with increasing concern, that it was more out of habit than being truly anxious about something.

“Yes, you are, of course. But what is the primary purpose for the existence of ‘anxiety’?”

“It’s- I’m, like, a protective thing, I guess?”

Logan sat on his hands, tensely waiting for Virgil to contradict what Deceit had said and what he had meant by it. Hoping- hoping to god above- that Virgil would inadvertently tell him that he hadn’t messed up as badly as he was starting to believe he had. “And what are you protecting? What needs to be protected like this?”

“I don’t- Logan, it’s the middle of the night-”

“Virgil. Please.” Please, please, please, please.

“I- uh- well, I’m… I’m protecting Thomas, I guess? His heart?”

Logan’s entire world shattered. No, no, no, no, no- But! There was still hope. Such a small sliver of hope. Logan clung to it and asked his final question. “And Deceit? What’s his primary purpose here? The same specifics. Please.”

Virgil huffed and put his hands on his hips. “I don’t know. I guess he’s… he’s kind of a protective… thing, too. Protects Thomas. Protectects his heart.”

Logan could’ve wept. He probably should have. And he probably could have. If only there were tears to spare since Patton went away. “What have I done…?” He pulled his hands from under his ass, fell backwards on the bed, and covered his eyes, trying to block it all out. Trying to make everything go away. Trying to fix everything without looking.

“Logan?” Virgil asked. His monotone voice grated on Logan’s ears. Virgil was supposed to care! He was supposed to be worried! Of all the people to worry, it was supposed to be Virgil! “Logan? What’s going on?”

He sat straight up. “I need to fix this.”

“Wha-? Fix what?”

He fell to his feet and rushed the door. “Thank you, Virgil, this has been most helpful. Goodnight.”

“Logan, where are you-?”

He pushed open the door and pulled the keys off of his chest. “I’m going to fix this.” He slammed Virgil’s door closed and sprinted to the kitchen, fumbling with his keys all the while.

If Deceit was telling the truth about his purpose, he was telling the truth about the crux of the issue and why he chose Logan and that meant the little bit of Logan’s mind that had been yelling at him this whole time should have been given a megaphone a hell of a lot sooner.

He needed to fix this.

He thought he heard Deceit chuckle as he blew through the door by the kitchen, stopping only to snatch the keys from their bowl on top of the refrigerator.

He raced his thoughts up the hill and collapsed against the cold, unfeeling wooden door at the bottom of the tower.

Logan might have then understood the idea of “do or die.”

He took the stairs three at a time and when he crashed through the door at the top of the stairs, he found Patton at the little window, staring out at the nothingness beyond the tower.

Logan dropped his keys to the ground and tried to remember how to breathe, panic and exhaustion welling up in his throat. Patton turned at the sound and Logan pitched forward, pulling his Heart into a tight and awkward hug.

It was like hugging an old marble statue, cold and hard and decidedly not Patton. He pulled away, frightened.

“Logan,” Patton said in a horribly detached way, blinking slowly. “Hello.”

“Patton, I- Well, I-“

“You haven’t come to visit me in… in forever. Why?”

“Patton, I’ll explain later, please just-“

Patton turned away slowly, pacing the room. “At first, I missed you. I missed you more than Roman and Virgil and Dorian all combined.” He looked up and smiled and empty smile. “Silly, isn’t it?”

“No, I missed-“

“But then I remembered the lesson I was supposed to be learning here. The lesson you wanted to teach me. Don’t feel, just be. So I stopped missing you. When the others came, I stopped asking about you and if you were coming. I stopped caring if you were going to come back at all. In my mind, I practically killed you.”

Logan’s tie was too tight around his neck, and the air in this top tower room was hot and stifling. It took shape and closed around his mouth and nose, suffocating him slowly, slowly, slowly.

“Patton-”

“So, now I don’t care that you’re here,” Patton said simply. He sounded as close to proud as his dead tone would allow. He stopped and looked out the window, vacant and empty. “I think I’ve learned my lesson. If you can come up here and if I can not care, then I must’ve learned my lesson.”

Through the choking air and sickening fear, Logan wondered why he was more important to forget.

“Why did you come, Logan?”

“I- I came to… to take you home. You don’t belong here. We’re done with this place.”

Patton tipped his head. “Because I learned my lesson?”

“No-”

“Because, while I agree that it has been learned, I don’t think I’m ready to go back.”

“No- What?” He would have thought Patton would want to come home. “Why?”

“Because there are still… incidents.

“Incidents?”

“Incidents of... emotion.”

It was said like a curse. Like a sick thing. Like a taboo. Like the unfortunate excrement on the sole of your shoe. Like the crusted bugs on an old windshield. Like the way Logan had once said it.

Emotion.

Logan was going to be sick.

“We- we need that, Patton. We need your emotions back. Desperately.”

“You most certainly do not.”

“What? Of course we do! We need you back because Roman and Virgil are grey and Deceit’s been- been- been molting all over my bedroom and nobody smiles anymore and the flowers on the kitchen table up and died! We need you back.”

“Flowers die, Logan,” Patton bit. And if Logan hadn’t flinched so hard he might have heard the anger. “Do you know who taught me that? You did. So, you, of all people, should understand why I cannot come back.”

“Flowers die, but beauty doesn’t have to!” Logan all but screamed. “You know who taught me that? You! You!”

“And you know what you taught me? Feeling makes us weak! Feeling makes us fragile!”

“No! No, you’re wrong! I was wrong! Feeling makes us! That’s it! To feel is to be and to be is to feel! You know who taught me that, Patton? You! You did! And you were right! We all feel and we all need to feel. I see that now.”

“Why? Why are you so insistent on being right? Please, god, just tell me why you can’t let me be like this!”

“Why? Why?! Because this isn’t the way you are! Because I fed you misinformation and mistruths and I need to tell you the right things! Because I did all the wrong things and I’m trying to make it right! Because I love you. And that’s the crux of the issue, Patton: I love you. And keeping you safe is my number one priority, despite doing so going against my every protocol.

“But I don’t love this you. This isn’t you. You are kind and compassionate and you care so deeply about everyone and everything and you make me deny logic- myself- in pursuit of making you smile! A mind is nothing without its heart. Why, Patton? Because I need you. The real you. The you I love. Please. Please, come back to me.”

Patton’s face broke in half, ten thousand different emotions filling his eyes in rapid succession. They leaked out as shining tears and slipped down Patton’s cheek. “You do?” His smile was wide and hopeful and just a little bit sad.

Logan took a hard step back and stared at the ground with his knuckles between his teeth. “Yes,” he said finally, his voice slow and broken and unbelievably sad.

Patton took three small steps forward and laid a gentle hand to Logan’s cheek, letting it fall down to catch on bruised and bitten knuckles. He dragged each finger slowly away from Logan’s frightened mouth.

Logan took another firm step backwards, breaking away from his heart’s touch.

“Logan?” Patton asked, all innocence and care again. Logan was briefly curious about what made Patton’s transition back into emotion so quick. “What’s wrong...?”

“Patton- I... I can’t.”

“But... But you said you loved me? I don’t... I don’t understand. If you love me and... and I love you in return...”

Logan’s throat constricted. “You shouldn’t.”

“Pardon?”

“Love me. You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t love me.”

“But if you love me, don’t you want-“

“I love you, Patton,” Logan said with authoritative finality. “More than anything, I love you. But loving someone and deserving them are two very different concepts to reconcile. I love you, Patton. But deserve you, I do not.”

His bright freckled nose twitched with thinly veiled anger. “And why not?” He asked. “Why the hell not?”

“Because I have been unbelievably cruel to you. I have mislead you and belittled you and hurt you in every way imaginable. And I don’t know if I could stop. I would keep misleading and belittling and hurting. I could never make you as happy as you ought to be. Because loving me is the worst decision you could possibly make.”

“Whoever said I made good decisions?”

“Patton-”

“Logan, sweet Maria! Please, shut your trap! I’m the heart- making good decisions isn’t what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to feel- you’ve been telling me so for the past ten minutes! Do you know what I feel?”

“Patton,” Logan tried weakly.

“Be quiet, that was a rhetorical question!” He pressed his hands together behind his back, rocked back and forth on his toes, and looked out the window. “I feel love,” he said simply. “I feel so much love that sometimes, it hurts real bad.” He laughed quietly. “I guess that’s why we’re here, huh?

“But the love… it’s worth all the pain that might come with it. If nothing else, I think we can say we learned that today. I did, anyway.” He turned back, took Logan’s hand, and guided him to the window. The hill beneath them, which had been baren and grey, had begun to spring up flowers of every color imaginable. The moon and the stars had broken free of the cloudy sky and red rays of the new morning’s sunlight were creeping over the horizon.

It took Logan’s breath away.

“Sure,” Patton said. “A lot of things in life hurt, but that’s the way it’s supposed to be, isn’t it? Nobody can be happy all the time. And if you were, the whole… roller coaster of life would just plateau and you wouldn’t even know you were happy. Get it?”

“I think…” Logan squeezed Patton’s hand gently, nervous somehow. “I… I still do not deserve you Patton. You haven’t… proven me wrong.”

“Yes I did.”

“I don’t-”

“Logan, just be quiet, okay, honeybee?”

“Right…”

“I did prove you wrong. Life and love are a lot alike. Nothing is perfect or even good all the time, but it’s okay because you work through it as best you can. Because it’s worth it. For life, you get to see this-” he gestured out the little window as the sun truly broke over the horizon, covering the hill in light and warmth. “And for love… for love, you get someone to hold your hand through anything, take your side on anything, and stay by you no matter what.”

He tore his eyes away from the sunrise and Logan looked at Patton. Really looked at him. Looked at how the light caught in his eyes and set them aflame. Looked at how his freckles fell in the patterns of constellations like Circinus. Looked at how his wild curls

“Do you know why I missed you the most?” Patton asked, still staring out at the sunrise. “Why I was nearly glad you didn’t come to visit?”

Logan did not know. He wasn’t sure he wanted to anymore.

“Because you’re the one who makes me feel the most. I love the others, of course I do. But you make me feel… so much. And it’s not always happy, but anger and sadness and every other emotion you could think of are all part of love.” He finally looked away from the sunrise, holding Logan’s hand tightly as the bright sunshine made them nothing but silhouettes against the orange sky. “I love you, Logan. Differently than I do the others. I love you. And maybe you think you don’t deserve me- and maybe you don’t. But I want you. And everything that comes with you. Do you want me?”

Logan stared.

His face was hot, his head was fuzzy, his hands were clammy, and his knees were weak.

“I want… Patton, I want to hold your hand through anything, take your side on anything, and stay by you no matter what. I want to learn to deserve you, because I don’t. Not right now. Maybe not ever. But I want to try. And I want you. More than anything.”

Patton’s smile was soft and knowing and warm as he held their hands up between their chests. “You’ve always been a quick learner, honeybee.”

And then Logan stopped thinking and, acting purley on impulse, put his free hand to Patton’s splatter-painted cheek and kissed him.

The ground shook beneath the tower and stones began to fall away. They crashed to the ground and crumbled to dust. The petals of each and every flower turned aerial and the little plants soared away like multi-colored helicopters into the sky. The sun grew brighter and brighter on the horizon, its light blinding and white.

Logan and Patton didn’t notice any of this. They were too wrapped up in each other and the way this new thing between them to even begin to care about the world around them as it crumbled. It was only them. Just them. And that was all it needed to be. Everything Logan needed, Patton could provide. Everything Patton wanted, Logan would give.

Emotions rolled through both of them as they returned to Patton with such an intensity that Logan nearly cried. So many different kinds of pain, joy, sadness, and love shot through him all at once, but Logan held on tight to Patton. They had promised it to each other- neither of them had to go through anything alone. They remembered together the smell of chocolate chip cookies, the heartbreak of failure, the warmth of movie nights, the joy of togetherness, the pain of loss, and finally that the word Logan had been looking for all this time was pillow-nest.

When they broke apart from each other, they were in the kitchen. Every emotion and memory they had experienced stained their cheeks and dripped off their noses, but they were both grinning like fools. Logan dragged his hands through Patton’s hair because he could and was rewarded with a smile and a small purring sound that he immediately fell in love with. It sounded awkward against the harsh silence of the kitchen, but that didn’t seem to matter much.

Logan was so happy, he could barely breathe.

He pulled Patton tight against his chest and held him there, trying to memorize the feeling of the moment. Everything, from the humming of the refrigerator to the way Patton curled his fingers into Logan’s shirt, was important to remember.

“Thank you,” Patton said suddenly to Logan’s collar bone.

“What for?” Logan asked.

Patton buried himself further into the hug with a sleepy sigh. “You saved me, Lo-lo. Thank you.” He looked up with tired eyes and smiled.

Logan smiled back, then scooped him up into his arms before walking out of the kitchen. “Come on, beautiful. You need to sleep.”

Patton giggled into his shoulder. “You think I’m beautiful?” He asked.

“No,” Logan said, opening the door to Patton’s bedroom. “I know you are.”

Patton hummed happily and Logan leaned over to lay him on the bed’s soft blankets. He readjusted the pillows twice before kneeling at the foot of the bed to untie and remove Patton’s shoes. When he looked up again, Patton had an adoring look on his face.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

Patton shook his head and smiled. “No reason.” He held out his hands, motioning for Logan to come closer. “Stay with me, okay?”

There was no way for him to refuse. He took off his own shoes and laid down next to Patton, pressing a few gentle kisses to his neck and putting an arm around his waist. “I love you, my heart.”

Patton curled against him. “I love you, too, honeybee.”

Logan was on the edge of sleep when Patton spoke again. “Logan?”

“Hm?”

“You can stop thinking you don’t deserve me now. You deserve the universe.”

[storywool]

Happy Birthday, Cap

Request:  Hey! Can you do Steve Rogers x reader? They fight, argue and tease each other, but secretly in love in love with each other and then one day somethaang happens and it slips?

A/N: So, I kind of went overboard with this one. It was too much fun writing not to go overboard, though. Let me know what you think!! 

Word Count: 5,621 

It comes once a year, like all holidays do, but this one has a different style. For instance, Christmas is usually characterized by family, love, warmth, and presents. Halloween is characterized by costumes, candy, and the things that lurk in the night. Valentine’s Day is characterized by love, candy, and happiness.

But the fourth of July, aka America’s Independence Day, is characterized by alcohol, grilling, and fireworks. Its energy is chaotic and wild, and takes no prisoners. Even if you’re not American, you celebrate the fourth of July, and if it’s ironic celebration, no one really cares.

Y/n was the latter type of person. She was American, born and raised, but didn’t honestly celebrate the fourth of July with pride. The America she lived in was nothing like the America the founding fathers wanted with they signed the Declaration of Independence back in 1776. The America she knew was tyrannical, evil, and spiteful. The America she knew cared more about its corporations rather than its people, and hundreds of thousands of Americans didn’t even have the resources to celebrate this day. How could they afford fireworks, food, beer, and all the other things associated with the fourth of July when they couldn’t even afford a roof over their head?

Though Y/n felt this way, she did still celebrate the fourth of July. She just kept the heavy chip on her shoulder as a reminder that she’s celebrating what America could have been, not what it currently is. Plus, it was Steve’s birthday, his 100th birthday at that. That was something she would celebrate wholeheartedly. Sam and Y/n worked all night decorating the common room with decorations. The most notable decoration was a piñata of an eagle wearing Uncle Sam’s hat. Y/n found it at a party store and just had to get it. They filled it with red, white, and blue themed candies. They also got loads of streamers, balloons, and a ‘pin the shield on Captain America’ game. She knew Steve would kill her for that one, but it was too good to pass up.

At nine AM that day, most of the compound (Y/n, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, and Natasha) dressed to the nine’s in America themed gear, grabbed noise makers and a speaker, and barged into Steve’s room blasting “Team America”. Y/n, Wanda, and Nat jumped up on Steve’s bed and blew the noise makers in his face until he had no option other than to wake up. When he was mostly awake, they sang “Happy Birthday” at the top of their lungs.

“Hey do you remember that one time I punched Hitler in the face?” Tired Steve asked.

“It’s not like you let us forget it.” Y/n replied as she took a seat on his bed.

“That’s because I want to remind all of you what I’ll do to people who piss me off.” He sighed and pulled the covers over his head. Y/n rolled her eyes and yanked the covers down so he would have to look at her.

“I guess you’re just gonna have to punch me in the face then because I’m not leaving until you get out of bed.” She grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him up to a sitting position.

“Come on Grandpa, it’s not every day you turn 100!” Bucky cheered. Steve traded an ‘eat-shit-and-die’ look with Bucky before sharing that look with Y/n. She just smiled at him, loving the misery she was putting him through.

“Says the guy who is older than me.”

Bucky scoffed, “By one year asshole.”

“Steve, come on. We’ve got lots planned for today!” Y/n pleaded.

Steve groaned loudly before throwing the covers off of himself and exposing his bare chest and boxer shorts. Y/n took a few extra moments to admire his chest and muscles, which were deliciously defined. The group cheered sarcastically as he sluggishly got out of bed.

“Can I have some privacy to get dressed?” Steve asked.

“I guess we can make that happen.” Y/n responded and jumped up from her spot. The group filed out the door, but Steve asked Y/n to stay back for a second. She really didn’t want to just because she knew she’d end up staring at his chest too long.

“Yeah, what’s up?” She tried to sound nonchalant.

Steve grabbed a t-shirt from his closet and threw it on over his head quickly. Y/n involuntarily sighed, letting go of a breath that she didn’t realize she was holding. “What embarrassing things have you planned for today?” He only partially smiled.

Y/n scoffed and crossed her arms. “I’m offended! When have I ever purposely embarrassed you?”

“Every time we go to the grocery store you try to embarrass me.”

“Well maybe they shouldn’t play such funky 80’s music. If they didn’t play that music, I wouldn’t dance in the aisle.”

“That’s a damn lie and you know it.” Steve laughed. Y/n smiled and blushed slightly.

“You also just make it so easy.” Y/n leaned against his dresser. They always bickered like this, ever since Y/n joined the Avengers. It was usually fun, sometimes even flirty, but Y/n and Steve were known to get into an argument every now and then. They often had the same points of views on issues, but they had different ways of going about it. Steve just did whatever he felt like doing, while Y/n paid a little bit more attention to the rules. “Plus,” she added, “You know how I feel about birthdays. I gotta go all out.”  

At least he should know how she felt about birthdays. She loved them and loved celebrating them. Life was something to be celebrated, and the day you came into this world should be part of that celebration. There didn’t have to be a big party or lots of presents; as long as you have your friends and loved ones, that’s all you needed.

But a big party definitely helped, especially when you’re Captain America and your birthday is Independence Day. This was New York City, home of Elise Island, so the city tended to go all out with the fireworks and celebrations. Y/n knew that Steve didn’t like fireworks because the noise reminded him of the war, so she thought a party would help to distract him from everything else. At least that was the plan.

“Yes, I do, but you still haven’t answered my question.” Steve said as he tied his shoes.

“Don’t you want to be surprised?”

“Y/n, I hate surprises.”

“No you don’t. You just hate the bad ones. Now come on.” She reached out for his hands, and he placed his in hers hesitantly. She pulled him up from the bed so he was standing and towering over her. God, he was so tall, she thought as she very obviously stared at his plump lips. She had thought about kissing those lips so many times.

Y/n, focus, she told herself.

They exited the bedroom and walked straight into the decorated common room. Steve’s first and only reaction was him rolling his eyes and sighing. “What’s all this?” He asked rhetorically.

“We were just getting ready for tonight.” Nat replied.

He turned to Y/n, “Um, what?”

“Your party, duh.” Y/n answered matter-of-factly. “Big day, lots of stuff planned, remember?”

They all headed to the dining room where they had a delicious breakfast prepared by the onsite chefs. They had eggs, bacon, waffles, and lots of other decadent delights. Once satisfied and full, Y/n clapped her hands, excited to get the attention of the group.

“Okay, so as we all know, we’re celebrating Steve’s 100th birthday today. Not many people make it to 100 and get to look the way he does.” Y/n and Steve traded a small grin, “And as much fun as birthdays are, they’re also reminders that life is short for most people who aren’t genetically modified super soldiers.” Steve and Bucky raised their glasses to each other, which earned a laugh from everyone at the table. “And because life is so short, we- and I mean Bucky and myself- decided that today, you should embrace life’s brevity.” Bucky turned around to a table behind him and grabbed a piece of paper that he handed to Y/n. It read ‘bucket list’ in big, messy handwriting that belonged to none other than Steve Rogers. Y/n turned the paper to face the group.

“Where did you find that?” Steve questioned with a smile on his face. He hadn’t seen that list in forever.

“I was going through some stuff a while back and found it in a box in the back of my closet.” Bucky said. He was also smiling.

“God, I think I made this my senior year?”

“Yep, on prom night after your date ditched you and we decided to get drunk at a park instead.” The two old timers laughed at the memory. Y/n couldn’t help but smile and giggle with them. She loved seeing this side of them. It was so un-Avengers like.

“Buck went on and crossed out anything you’ve already done, like win a metal of armor or,” she pointed to one of the lines and chuckled, “fly in an airplane, and crossed out things that aren’t relevant, like meeting FDR. Anyways, today, Steven Grant Rogers, you are going to complete your bucket list. Well, as much as we can complete before your party at eight.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, Dixie Chick serious.” Y/n said. Steve only understood the Pitch Perfect reference because Y/n forced him to watch it on several occasions. Even though he wasn’t a fan, he liked spending the time with Y/n. She was such a touchy person that they’d almost always end up cuddling in some way, shape, or form on the couch, especially if one of them fell asleep. Honestly, if it weren’t for Y/n, Steve would still be very poorly versed in modern pop culture.

She handed the list to Steve, “Pick which one you want to do first.” He scanned the list, looking for something that stood out to him. He didn’t know which item he wanted to do the most, so he did what any indecisive adult does: he placed the paper on the table, closed his eyes, circled his finger around the paper, and placed his finger on a random spot. He opened his eyes to find his finger on item ten: get a tattoo.

“The finger has spoken.” Y/n joked.

“What’s it saying?” Sam asked.

Steve cleared his throat and dramatically read it. There wasn’t a member in the group that wasn’t super excited. The fossil known as Steve Rogers was going to get a tattoo today.

“Do you even know what you’d get?” Bucky questioned.

Steve chuckled, “Actually no.”

“You could add a layer of excitement and let someone pick it for you.” Nat suggested. Steve mulled the idea over in his head; it would be exciting and spontaneous, both things Steve was notorious for.

“I don’t trust any of you to pick something that will be on my body permanently.”

“Eenie meenie minie mo it.” Y/n recommended.

“Well seeing as you’re the only person at this table with a tattoo, I guess I’d trust your judgment the most.” Steve said, motioning to Y/n. Her face transformed into one of shock. She was certain he would have asked Bucky to pick it out for him, seeing as they were best friends.  

“Wait, you don’t want your best friend since high school to pick it for you?” She asked.

“I know nothing about tattoos, especially tattoos in this day and age. You’re the man for this job, Y/n.” Bucky replied. Y/n sighed at the heavy load on her shoulders. She had to pick the perfect first tattoo for Steve.

“Are you okay with that?” Steve asked.

“Oh, definitely. Just give me…an hour to think of something and draw it up.” She got up from the table but turned back to the group before she left, “I can’t go to a tattoo shop and not get one, so Steve, since I’m picking one for you, you have to pick one for me.”

Steve tried his best to hide a smile that was creeping onto his face, but he wasn’t doing a good job. Honestly, he was kind of flattered that Y/n wanted him to pick a tattoo for her. It didn’t help that he was helplessly in love with Y/n, either. To Steve, deciding a tattoo for her was an intimate and personal thing. Y/n was a thoughtful person and deserved a thoughtful tattoo.

“Aye, aye captain.” Steve said.

After their allotted hour passed, Steve and Y/n jumped into the car to head to a shop outside of Manhattan. The others decided not to come so they wouldn’t overcrowd the shop. The shop was owned by one of Y/n’s college friends, so she had been there before and knew it wouldn’t take long. It was also the only place open on a holiday.

To add even more excitement to the experience, Y/n and Steve decided they weren’t going to show each other what they picked out. It took a lot of trust, but Y/n trusted Steve more than anyone else. She knew he wouldn’t pick something she wouldn’t like.

“Is that Y/n Y/L/n?” A guy at the front desk with huge gauges in his ears and sleeves of tattoos on both of his arms asked when the pair walked in.

“Live and in the flesh.” She said as she ran over to give him a hug. “How’ve you been Nic?”

“Eh, can’t complain, just working mostly. What about you?”

“Good, good. Yeah, I actually got recruited to the Avengers about a year ago.”

“No shit, that’s awesome! Always knew you’d go far with that brain of yours.” Nic grinned from ear to ear. Y/n was a genius in school, and though she wasn’t technically a superhero, she was an incredibly useful asset to the Avengers team. Tony recruited her after hearing her graduate school thesis defense on using magnetic waves as intergalactic communication. Tony thought this was important after Thor and Bruce disappeared for months. Her research ended up being crucial for a lot of the work Stark Industries was doing.  

“Yeah and this is my partner in crime!” Y/n gestured to Steve.

Nic looked starstruck as his brain processed who was in front of him, “Holy shit, you’re Captain America!” Nic stuck his hand out and Steve shook it hesitantly. He didn’t really want to be nice to someone who appeared to be flirting with Y/n, but this was also the man who was going to permanently paint his skin.

“Pleasure.” Steve said coyly.

“Steve’s actually here to get a tattoo.” Y/n told Nic, breaking the awkward interaction between Nic and Steve.

“Righteous! What are you wanting to get?”

“We actually picked out tattoos for each other, and we want it to be a surprise.” Steve said.

With that, Y/n offered to go first since she knew what the experience would be like and apparently, her tattoo wouldn’t take as long as Steve’s would. Y/n let Steve pick out the spot too, and he picked her inner bicep on her right arm. Steve put a blindfold over her eyes too so she wouldn’t be able to take a peek at it.  

“Alright, you ready?” Nic asked.

“Born ready.”

The engine of the tattoo gun hummed deliciously, sending chills up Y/n’s spine. The things people said about getting tattoos were true: once you get one, you can’t stop. It was less painful than it was irritating, but was worth it in the end. Your body is a temple and you should be able to decorate it the way you want. That’s why Y/n had so many tattoos (she had nine and this would be her tenth).

After about thirty minutes, Nic wiped the tattoo one more time. “Okie dokie, you’re done! Go look.” Y/n took off her blindfold and practically ran to the mirror, Steve right on her heels. It was a triangle with a black and white mountain landscape inside the triangle. In between two of the mountain peaks was a rising sun with cute little sun rays coming off of it. There were trees lining the bottom of the mountains with delicate flowers underneath some of the trees. Y/n audibly gasped when she saw it.

Instantly, she knew why Steve picked this tattoo. Y/n very rarely went on missions with the Avengers because, unlike Tony, she didn’t have a super suit. However, one time, they had a mission in Wakanda and needed all hands on deck. Y/n worked in the lab with King T’Challa’s sister, Shuri, on some new technology. During this trip, they had a little downtime, and Y/n really wanted to explore since she had never been to Wakanda. Steve and Y/n went on an expedition to the mountains and they hiked to the highest peak. They had some dinner and a bottle of wine while the sunset; it was absolutely breathtaking and romantic. It was also the first time Y/n realized she was in love with Steve, and the first time Steve realized the same about Y/n.

“Oh my god, I love it.” She whispered breathlessly. Words couldn’t even being to describe the love she felt. She turned from the mirror and threw her arms over Steve’s neck. His hands wrapped around her waist and held on tight- just the way Y/n liked it.

“Thank you.” She whispered in his ear. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to.

Nic finished cleaning up the mess he made during Y/n’s session and called Steve over to the chair. Steve let Y/n pick the location too, and since it was his first tattoo, she picked somewhere that wouldn’t be super obvious- his right shoulder.

Steve’s tattoo took almost an hour once all the shading and line work was said and done. Steve didn’t feel any pain but could tell with a simple glance that his skin was bright red. He jumped up and jogged to the mirror. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw the work of art forever etched into his skin. It was done in the traditional style, which was very common back during World War II, and he knew that’s why Y/n picked that style. The tattoo itself was an orange and red phoenix that was surrounded by a white ribbon that read “still I rise”.

The quote came from Steve’s favorite poem, “Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou. He first read it shortly after coming out of the ice, when he was catching up on things he missed. After meeting Y/n, who was very involved with civil rights issues, he gave the poem another read, and he realized the importance of it, not just for black people but for women as well. No, Steve was not a black person or a woman, but he grew up poor and sickly, was bullied his whole life, and was an orphan. He understood some of the struggles people could face. That poem resonated with him.

Adding the quote with the phoenix, the symbol of rebirth, was surreal for him. He knew that the phoenix was supposed to symbolize his return from the ice, to emphasize his resilience. The phoenix gave the quote even more personal meaning; like a phoenix from the ashes, still he’ll rise. Also, the traditional style was one of his favorites, and one of his best friends drew the tattoo.  

He was at a loss for words. It was everything he had expected and more. It was pretty badass, too, which was essential for America’s favorite superhero.

“You like?” Y/n asked at Steve’s unusual quietness. He turned from the mirror to face Y/n; their eyes made contact and it seemed like the world around them completely disappeared. It was just them, sharing this unintended intimate moment.

“It’s amazing. Thank you.” He said in an almost sultry voice. Chills ran up and down Y/n’s spine, and she did her best to conceal the shiver. It didn’t really go unnoticed by Steve.

A loud noise behind them pulled them from their weird trance. The noise was just Nic cleaning up and he accidentally dropped something. Y/n and Steve awkwardly paid and made their way back to the compound. Y/n stared at her saran-wrapped arm the whole ride home. She couldn’t get over how good it looked and how well it matched her aesthetic.

“You really do like it, right?” Y/n questioned, filling the silence in the car.

“No I hate it. I already scheduled an appointment to get it removed.” Steve traded a glance with Y/n. She laughed sarcastically.

After arriving home and showing the rest of the group their new tattoos, the group decided to tackle another bucket list item. This time, everyone could participate, since item fifteen- ride every ride at Coney Island- was something everyone could do. Coney Island had expanded a lot since Steve’s last go around on a rollercoaster there, so there would be plenty of fun to be had. They even bought express passes when they got there so they didn’t have to wait in the crazy long lines that holidays usually brought to Coney Island.

Y/n knew being back here would be weird for Steve and Bucky, since the last time they were here was back when Bucky went into the army. If it was bothering them though, they made no indication of such. The group was thankful for this because they could all have fun. Even the crowds were having fun seeing these large, built men and women trying to fit in the little rollercoaster carts.

The best part of Coney Island though was the photo booth that was set up near the food vendors. Y/n loved those things and excitedly tugged on Steve’s sleeve like a child when she saw it. “Can we do it, please?!” She begged. He tried to act like he didn’t want to do it, but Y/n knew he was just as excited as she was.

The photo booth was too small to fit anyone other than Steve and Y/n in it, but the others said they were fine with not being in the pictures. They climbed in the booth and Steve fed the machine a dollar, giving them no time to prepare the pictures. In the first one, Y/n slugged her arm around Steve’s neck and pulled him into a side hug while making whatever weird face she could. The second picture was of Y/n with her arm still around Steve, but she did bunny ears behind his head. The third picture was the funniest by far because when Y/n was removing her arm, she accidentally punched Steve in the face right when the camera clicked. They were laughing too hard to do anything for the last one.

When they saw the pictures though, Y/n knew instantly that the last one was her favorite. Her eyes were closed because she was laughing so hard, but Steve was staring at her with this look in his eyes, like he had never seen anything so beautiful. Y/n looked at the picture and saw love in Steve’s eyes. Of course, she didn’t say anything to Steve about it for fear of making things awkward. She was content, for the moment, with the fact that she knew what the look was about.

They stayed at the park until about six, when Y/n suggested they head back to the compound to get ready for the party. They packed into cars, drove to the Avengers compound, and went to their separate rooms. Y/n took a shower, making sure to wash her tattoo well, and dressed in a casual, but cute outfit. She knew she’d be doing a lot of dancing, plus no one dresses nicely for a fourth of July party. She put on a nice, loose navy top, denim shorts, and brown sandals. After dressing, she put a little bit of makeup and blow dried her hair. It was almost 7:30 by the time she was done.

When she was finished getting ready, she went out to the common room to finish setting up. Since they put up most of the decorations earlier, it was quick and easy. They just had to set up the food table and take the cake out to thaw. They also got coolers filled with alcohol ready.

Steve came out not too much later, dressed in a gray v-neck and dark blue jeans. The shirt was cut just right, so anyone looked at him would see a good bit of his defined chest, and his jeans hugged him in all the right places. His hair was still messy and wet from his shower, and Y/n could tell he touched up his beard a bit. Y/n had one thought when she saw him: snack. He was looking so delicious she just wanted to grab a fork and dig in.

“Is anyone home?” Steve waved his hand in front of Y/n’s face. Apparently, she had zoned out while she was thinking about all the things she’d do to Steve if she could.

“What?” She shook her head to bring her back to reality- and sanity.

“Do you need help?”

She glanced at the time on her phone. It was about ten minutes until eight, which is when people were supposed to show up. All the Avengers were there already, as was some none Avengers like Scott Lang, Maria Hill, and Sharon Carter. Y/n was wary about inviting Sharon since Steve had a weird history with her, but he said that they both agreed to just be friends. Y/n hoped things wouldn’t get awkward between the two tonight.

At eight o’clock sharp, people started to file into the large room. The walls vibrated from all the noise and the temperature in the room seemed to skyrocket. Never before had this many people occupied this room, and none of the Avengers really knew how to feel about it. It was exciting, but weird. Thankfully, the alcohol was flowing and for most of them, that was a good thing. Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky couldn’t get drunk, but that didn’t mean the others couldn’t have some fun.

Y/n was feeling a pretty good buzz by about nine o’clock. The sun had set completely by that point, and firework shows all around the city were starting. Most of the party guests had moved on to the deck- except for one. Y/n found Steve resting on the balcony outside of his room, which was away from everyone else.

“Why is the birthday boy not at his own party?” She asked when she found him. He jumped, not expecting someone to walk up behind him.

“Jesus, Y/n, you scared me.”

She apologized as she took the seat next to him. “What are you doing out here? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Hiding from you.” He said jokingly. “No, I just needed a minute. Lots of people.”

“Oh I know right. I did not expect this many people to say yes.” She took a swig of her drink Sam made for her; he called it “the Capsicle” and boy was it strong. She handed the cup to Steve but he shook his head no. “Suit yourself.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a little bit just watching the fireworks explode all over the city. Steve was the first person to break the silence, “You know, I used to love fireworks. I used to act like they were a little birthday present for me.”

“Dude, you’re the human embodiment of America. These fireworks are for America, so in some ways, they are for you.”

“It’s not the same anymore. Maybe I’m just an old man, but they’re too loud nowadays…reminds me of bombs.”

“So why are you out here alone then?”

“I’m not alone now am I?”

“No one’s ever truly alone, especially you Steve. You have an army of people behind you that would do anything for you. That includes distracting you from things you don’t like. Why do you think I threw you this party?” Y/n said sincerely. She would genuinely do anything for him. She knew only a handful of others that she would do just about anything for. The great thing was she knew Steve would do the same for her in a heartbeat.

Steve looked at her, waiting for her answer. She rolled her eyes, “I knew you didn’t like fireworks, so I threw a huge party with all these people hoping it would distract you. But then you had to come out here and be all mope-y and brooding…defeats the purpose.”

Steve stared at her, similar to the way he looked at her during their photo booth shoot. She had the biggest heart of anyone he knew; she was so compassionate, empathetic, and loving. She always found the positives in life, even when the whole world around her was dark.

“Thank you for the party…actually for everything.” Steve said so quietly that the moment turned from friendly to intimate. Steve was being sincere and he needed Y/n to know that. “You’ve completely changed my life since Stark recruited you, and I know the others feel the same.”

Y/n was touched but found it hard to believe. “You’re just saying that.”

Steve angled his body so he was facing Y/n directly; Y/n mimicked his body language unconsciously. “No, I mean it. Y/n, you keep us human. You help to remind us, to remind me, that there is still good out there. Every moment, no matter how terrible, has something positive about it. Stark has said multiple times that Stark Industries and the Avengers would not be where they are today if it weren’t for the work you’re doing. And he’s not just talkin’ about work in the lab. You’ve changed every one of us in some way. Stark’s nicer, Bucky smiles more because of your dumb jokes, Wanda’s more sociable-”

Y/n cut him off, “And you? What could I possibly change about you?” She had to know since his opinion of here was the one she cared about most.

Steve stared into her eyes. He knew what he wanted to say, but didn’t know if now was the time. If Y/n has taught her anything though, it was that life is short. ‘Embrace life’s brevity’ was what she said early. She was right- Steve needed to embrace life’s brevity. He never knew if he was going to get another tomorrow, or even another tomorrow with her.  

The words ran off his tongue, like these were the words he was always meant to say, “You’ve helped me fall helplessly in love with you…not that that was hard to begin with.”

Y/n was dumbfounded. Out of all the ways she imagined tonight to go down, Steve admitting he was in love with her was not one of them.

“What?” She said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/n, I’m in love with you, and I have been since I met you. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin things, and because things are just so great the way they are, but I can’t deny myself the simple pleasure of admitting my feelings to my best girl.”

Y/n blushed a hundred shades of red and felt tears sting her eyes. She couldn’t believe that he was being sincere. Captain America was in love with her- a nerd from upstate New York with a bad temper and the coordination of a baby deer. Steve Rogers, in all his 6’0” glory, was in love with her. It just didn’t make sense. Yes, she was completely head over heels for him, but for him to feel the same way felt foreign.

Y/n was sure she was dreaming, but even if it was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up anytime soon.  

Steve was taken aback by her silence. He was sure she felt the same way; all the signs were there. He was starting to grow embarrassed at the thought of him emptying his heart out to someone who didn’t feel the same way.

He opened his mouth to say something, but in a moment of pure courage (and maybe with some help from the alcohol), Y/n crossed the space between them. She took Steve’s face between her hands and brought his lips to hers, crashing them together in a kiss that knocked the wind from her lungs. On instinct, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her onto his lap while her hands found their way around his neck and into his hair.

The stolen kiss tasted like salt but felt sweet as chocolate. It was passionate, fervent, and delicious, but also delicate. It felt like worlds were colliding in the kiss. Neither one of them really wanted to pull away but had to once breathing became more difficult.

“I love you, too.” Y/n whispered lovingly after a few moments had passed. She cupped his face gently and stared longingly into his eyes. Oh, how she had waited for this moment. She pulled him into another, calmer kiss. She smiled a playful grin, “Come on, time to open your present.”

She climbed off his lap and pulled him up by his hand. “Oh really? What is it?”

“It’s less of a what, and more of a who.” She replied seductively. Steve was no longer fighting her grip and let her drag him into his bedroom.

“Happy birthday, Cap.” She whispered before they became consumed with lust, with each other’s bodies. They found their way between the silk sheets and for a moment, everything was exactly as it should be: pure and raw and full of love.

Tagged: @mickeyimagines

[tayzamxlfoy]

Bless you ~ Draco Malfoy.

So I’m feeling incredibly flippin ill as I have an awful cold and a headache ughhh I feel like death so I mean, Draco come cuddle me.

Potions was going to be the death of you. You felt like death anyway, even without the flipping asphodel roots and stuff you had to study.

The library was one of your favourite places of the castle, just so peaceful and quiet and full of books that you poured over basically every day. Today, however, the only thing you really felt like pouring over was your bed.

The early spring sunlight shone in light gold rays across the shelves through the paned and dewy windows, your heavy eyes lazily watched the little freckles of dust dance around in the light. You would have gazed and admired the beauty of it had your head not had about ten different kinds of filibusters fireworks ablaze inside of it. It made you dizzy.

You gazed reproachfully, for maybe the fifth time, at the book that lay in front of you. Professor Snape had set you a two foot parchment homework to do on the Draught of Living Death. And I guess maybe you thought that if you glared hard enough, the pages would melt and you wouldn’t have to do the dreaded thing.

Your head pounded as your eyes ran over the same words several times, unable to take them in.

The Draught of Living Death brings upon its drinker a very powerful sleep that could last indefinitely...

Merlin I’d like some of that right now. You chuckled a little as you shook your head, letting your hair fall from its safety behind your ear. You felt like you could sleep forever. Every muscle ached like each limb was being pulled by a menacing grindylow in every direction.

Your tired eyes fell once again upon the book that your mind was running so anxiously from. You let out a little sigh. To be honest, you didn’t really give a Merlin’s sweaty armpit that you needed to add the powdered root of asphodel after the infusion of wormwood and stir clockwise two times.

You ran your fingers through your hair as you felt more pangs of pain run through your head making you sway, you sneezed and groaned as your sinuses felt like they were going to explode.

You heard a laugh, familiar, but slightly different, from across the room. You gazed to the right and watched the four approaching slytherins saunter to your table. Ugh, this is just what I need.

“Bless you,” a graceful voice granted, quite beautiful in the two words that flowed so effortlessly out of his mouth.

Your eyes flew up in a little surprised as they met the stunning blue ones of the silver boy in front of you.

“Sorry??” You asked, confusion tickles your mind as you raised an eyebrow a little. Is the Slytherin Prince blessing me??

“That’s the usual response to a sneeze isn’t it??” He smirked as he sat opposite me, though the smirk didn’t have the usual malicious manner about it. It was crooked and cheeky, adorning his pale face.

You smiled as much as you could without your whole face aching and sighed a tired laugh, “um I suppose??”

This boy was a bit of an arse, actually, Draco Malfoy was a huge arse. He was a bully, to most people, and especially to your best friends, he’d snarled a nasty comment to you countless times when you were walking with Harry or Ron or Hermione around the grounds. Though no matter how awful he was, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t find him pretty gorgeous. He was stunning, in a mysterious and dark way, there was something about his manner that you didn’t quite understand, you didn’t think anyone did.

Lately he’d seemed to have become more cautious, not around Harry on his own, but others, he seemed to be scared of something, worried somehow. You could not work him out. Though no matter how crappy he was, there was something about him that didnt quite meet the eye, however you had no flippin idea what it was.

“Go on guys I’ll meet you down there,” the silver boy nodded his followers off, Crabbe and Goyle going eagerly, no doubt for the food served for lunch, and Pansy going reluctantly and with a jealous scowl as she eyed you judgementally.

Draco gave her a defiant smile, as if he enjoyed seeing her like that. You internally shook your head, he is so pretentious.

“Did the Slytherin Prince just bless me??” You asked with a laugh and a slight mockery to your voice, you watched his nose crinkle a little at the title and then be elegantly replaced by his usual smirk.

“Why couldnt he??”

“Isn’t that against court rules or something??” you sighed with a little laugh and swayed unbalanced on your chair as the dull ache increased in your head.

His melodic laugh sounded quietly and he looked down at the potions book in front of you, accompanied by the parchment bearing three words.

“You look thrilled by it,” the stated, resting is cheek on his fist as he sat to the table, it took a moment to get what he was talking about, damn your head was fuzzy, “the potions.”

You smiled a little and nodded, “it sucks,” is all you could let out, wincing a tiny bit at the movement.

“You look like you’ve taken some, are you feeling okay??” As you met his eyes an unfamiliar flash of concern shone through the icy blue, making your heart jump a little.

“Erm...yeah I’ll be oka...,” you sighed and swayed a little as you felt your eyes drooping.

“Woah,” you felt a pair of hands hold your sides as you realised slowly he must have rushed round the table to catch you, “you really aren’t okay.”

You felt his arms round yours as he held you up, crap this is slightly embarrassing, “I guess not,” you laughed and tried to get up but you swayed and he had to get up and hold you steady again, his hands on your waist. Your skin tingled where he touched you, though you were wearing your school jumper. Merlin’s beard. You sighed at your sudden incompetence to function as a normal human being. And it had to be here didn’t it, two corridors away from your dorm and helpless in the arms of Draco Malfoy. Brilliant.

Though suddenly, you felt yourself slightly glad that he was there, and not just because you would of hit the floor if he wasn’t, you somehow felt more at ease.

“We need to lay you down,” he laughed at your seemingly drunken state and you sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you groaned and laughed embarrassedly.

“It’s fine, if I get all your diseases though it’s your fault.” He smirked and you looked up into his eyes and realised with a shock how close you were standing, his hands still resting comfortably on your waist. You found yourself quite liking them there, and not just because if they weren’t you’d probably topple over like a top heavy bottle of butterbeer. Pink rose up your cheeks as he watched you and smiled.

Maybe I am drunk.

“Come on,” he turned you round slightly and kept his arm around your waist as he walked you towards the corridor out of the library.

“Where are we going??”

“Somewhere where you aren’t going to fall and crack your skull like a dragon egg,” he laughed and you gave up inquiring and let him lead you along the school.

The two of you walked (well, you kinda stumbled as your head panged and your muscles cramped underneath you) in silence for a few minutes as he lead you through the corridors.

“Are you sure you’re not drunk??” He asked and smirked at your expression.

“Of course I’m not Draco, why would I be drunk at ten o’clock in the morning??” You laughed and he raised his eyebrows.

“I don’t know, rough night??” It wasn’t really a question, he began to slow as you obviously reached where you were going.

You felt the illness run through you and your head reeled, I need to get to bed.

“Are you going to leave me here??” You whined as you eyed the portrait that let you into the Gryffindor common room, you heard with slight surprise a little disappointment and despair as you asked him, you wanted to stay with him a bit longer.

There’s something seriously wrong with me.

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital wing??” He asked, his expression one of concern.

Why is he caring so much??

You shrugged it off, you decided you quite liked nice Draco.

“No, no,” you assured, “I don’t want to be stuck in there for hours,” you looked at the portrait and then back at the silver haired boy standing in front of you, “could you...”

He smirked a little, “are you asking me to take you to bed y/n??”

You laughed, though it was painful, and shook your head, “yes, but not in that way.” He is such an arse.

“If you say so,” he smirked and replaced his arm around your waist and helped you through the portrait hole.

The worn scarlet curtains and furniture of the cosy common room were an immediate comfort for you, you sighed and walked towards the stairs, Draco having let go of you and looking around the room. You turned back to him with tired eyes and raised your eyebrows a little.

“I’ve never been in here before.”

“Never much need to hang out with crappy Gryffindors,” you smiled lazily but with a tiny bit of reproach in your voice as you watched him.

He met your eyes and you saw a little remorse in the icy blue. He didn’t say anything though, just followed you up the stairs.

The dorm was empty, thank Merlin, no noise to amplify your headache. You sat on your bed and sighed placing your hand on your forehead, you couldn’t tell how hot it was.

Draco froze a little as he walked in, it was strange, he almost looked a little awkward as his features hid the tiny bit of caution in his eyes. He immediately replaced the doubt he had with a smirk as you moved over on your bed a little so he could sit next to you.

“Let me,” he mumbled quietly as he rose his hand up and touched his fingertips lightly to your forehead. Your eyes didn’t leave his as he did, the icy blue of them was cold, but up close you could see they were refreshing. Like an icy cold river waiting to be splashed over your skin on a hot day. As you watched, your eyes ran along his features, he was beautiful. His nose was straight but a slight curve outwards at the bridge, the cheekbones that bordered his cheeks were perfectly prominent and his dark eyelashes contrasted with his white hair that hung a little over his ivory forehead. You wanted to reach up and run your fingers gently along his cheek. It was a moment before you realised he was watching you. Your cheeks grew warm as he smiled, a slightly smug but almost loving smile. Crap. He didn’t say anything just moved over a little bit.

“Get in then,” he motioned to the bed behind you and smirked. Why did he have to be so gorgeous??

You were reminded quickly of your aching muscles as you moved to bring the covers just over your legs, you winced a little as your head pounded.

You lay back a little, the top of your back and your head resting on the head board.

“Draco??”

“Hmm??”

“Do you think you could...” you smiled a little and sighed, your eyebrows furrowed at the pain you felt.

“What, darling??” The smirk returned.

The name sent shivers through you, oh stop it.

“Stay here.”

You slid over a little so there was space for him to lay on the bed if he wanted. You just didn’t want him to leave, he helped the pain.

“Why??” You could tell he was teasing.

“You don’t have to,” you smiled a little, closing your eyes and slid down in the bed comfortably.

There was a silence until you felt the bed move a little as you felt him lay next to you. You smiled to yourself and could almost sense his own smirk from next to you watching you.

You found yourself prefering no one else with you, not your friends, just Draco, you smiled.

You opened your eyes and looked at him, the predicted smirk obviously on his face. He moved towards you a little and placed his pale fingers on your face, softly and slowly tucking your hair behind your ear.

Moving a little closer to him, your head was nearly touching his chest as you lay together, somehow his presence made the aching less painful, the cold less prominent. You smiled as you shut your eyes with a relaxed sigh.

This didn’t feel so strange anymore.

The warmth and sense of comfort engulfed you and the dark fresh scent that came from his skin was infatuating, you smiled and felt yourself relax into his arms.

You felt the smirk in his voice, “you’re welcome.”

The last thing that you felt as the dull aching in your head drifted you off to sleep, in the warmth of his arms, was the cold feeling of his lips softly touching your forehead.

Ahhhhh!! I find this so cute, and I’m feeling like death rn so I just soo needed this. I hope you loved it :) I used Gryffindor but really it doesn’t matter, could be any ;)) just change it to suit you :) let me know if you loved it ;) ily x

[overdrivels]

The Way to a Heart (2)

You all underestimate how much I love this character. I also want to thank @dickbutt-writes-again for listening to me freak out so patiently, and giving such concise advice. It’s really helpful.

<<Chapter 1

Your day starts whenever your customers demand it, whether it be seven in the evening for Reinhardt's warm milk or three in the afternoon for Ana's 'tea parties'. The three main meals of the day are also ad-hoc as the agents are always coming in and out of the base at unpredictable times, work through their mealtimes, and (perhaps the worst offense of all) just plain refuse to eat.

Your day ended whenever all agents have retired for the day (or night); those days are few and far between. It wouldn't do to be unavailable when an agent is going hungry, so the time in between orders are filled with other tasks: cleaning, prep work, checking inventory, attending and scheduling remote meetings, planning menus, updating ledgers, maintaining the kitchen tools, etc. The days of twenty chefs in the kitchen at its peak hours (six at its lowest), everyone with a specific responsibility, are long gone.

Sleep came in the form of naps that pass in a blink. A proper night’s rest was impossible with agents like McCree, who is constantly haunted by nightmares and seek the companionship of alcohol to keep them at bay, and Agent D.Va, who refuses to sleep at an appropriate time and wanders often into the cafeteria in search of a late night snack (and some interesting, albeit one-sided, conversations).

Mornings, however quick they come, bring about the need to double check inventory to ensure that no one has come into the kitchen and filched anything. While Athena keeps the place under close watch while you sleep and will alert you of any intruders, she's not omnipotent.

You bite your lip as you go through the numbers, slipping in and out of the walk-in freezer, counting up near-empty containers, meticulously labeled in blue tape and sorted by category.

It shouldn't surprise you so much since the growth of the organization would naturally come with the growth of appetites, but whenever Agent Hanzo orders, the food supplies deplete rapidly. At first, you had chalked it up to malnutrition from being on the run for so long and not having a proper meal, but it is beginning to wear on your limited resources. It’s lucky he’s not at the base often, having to get shipped off with other agents for various missions. (Though, the demands for seconds never fails to make you smile and your heart swell—nothing is better than to know your customers have a healthy appetite and enjoy your cooking.) Between him, Agent Zarya, Agent Reinhardt, and Agent Roadhog, it’s impossible to predict just how much food you’d need without over-ordering.

"Athena. Stats, please."

From one of the screens high above the kitchen, once (and still is) used to show the incoming orders, the statistics of how many calories each agent has burned and a rough estimate of how much they consumed (and lost) within the past twenty-four hours are posted for your scrutiny.

You thin your lips and pace the kitchen, tapping the notepad in your hand. Agent Soldier: 76 has been at the top of the charts lately, and returning his food only half-finished and cold hours later. (It’s painful in more ways than one when you have to scrape off the crusted remains; it makes sleep even more difficult to come by). There's also the matter of Agent Symmetra's dietary restrictions; Agent Mei’s lactose intolerance; Agent D.Va’s preference for spicy food; Agent Reinhardt’s health; the list goes on and on.

As disappointing as it is, it's also a blessing that some agents do not require food (like Agent Zenyatta, who politely passes by your window with a gentle greeting and a friendly wave that you would return shyly. Agent Winston, on the other hand, refuses to eat much beyond peanut butter related delectables and takes the combined effort of Athena and yourself to convince him to eat something different.

You flip through your list again, already mentally trying to piece together a menu for today's meals and snacks from the limited ingredients. There’s always an abundance of rice, so you may have to stick with that again. Maybe some congee for breakfast with some shredded ginger on top (extra ginger for Agent Solider: 76 to open up his appetite). That could help with the rationing, but it’s not necessarily something that all agents would enjoy. Maybe oatmeal should also be given as an option today. But then it’d require toppings that you don’t have.

You turn a page, pursing your lips.

Perhaps the flour reserved specifically for Captain Amari's cookies may have to find its way into everyone else's food. (It's a secret stash of ingredients specially ordered for the woman's afternoon tea gatherings. You took great joy in watching these sessions from the screens in your kitchen, oven still hot and kettle at the ready in case more provisions were needed. You had watched friendships forged over the buttery, crumbly treats, and several relationships mended from a single cup of tea.)

You shake your head of the thought. No, you could never do that to her. The old Head Chef would have your head (but not before Captain Amari did).

Perhaps from another source...

Your sigh echoes in the cavernous kitchen.

The notepad is placed onto an empty counter, and you roll up your sleeves.

It's four days until the next shipment, almost all agents are present. Running out to buy more ingredients is plausible, but risky, and funds were being allocated elsewhere at the moment. If you’re careful and creative enough, you can stretch the current inventory over these remaining days. 

And the health and well-being of the agents always came first.

You'll make this work somehow.

Two days have passed.

You chew some mint leaves, the soothing taste counteracts the slow burning in your stomach that is slowly crawling up into your chest that you steadfastly ignore.

‘Captain Amari prefers this without sauce and a lemon wedge,’ you remind yourself as you finish plating the fish. You reach into the garnish counter with shaky fingers and place the citrus slice beside the well-seasoned, pan-roasted sea bass fillet with blistered asparagus and grape tomatoes. Two slices of thick bread (no butter), her tea (dark like the night with mint), and her appetizers are at the ready on the tray.

You deliver it to the window where the woman waits—you didn’t even have to ring the bell.

The woman slides the tray over to the side, leaning in and down onto the counter. "Have you eaten yet?"

The insides of your stomach prickles and aches at the question, and you have to resist the urge to press down on it. Captain Amari is far too sharp for a woman of her years.

You thread your fingers together to disguise the trembling.

A thick french accent rises from your memories, sharp and loud, "Chefs do not eat until their customers have eaten." It echoes in your mind, stabbing itself into your stomach repeatedly.

"I will," you lie. "After, after I have served everyone." The paltry numbers of today's inventory flashes through your head.

She huffs, disbelieving. "In that case, I will not be having my cookies today."

"You...won't?"

Your mind betrays you and immediately begins concocting recipes that could make use of the eggs, flour, butter, and sugar that the sniper's cookies normally call for. Tortillas, pancakes, velouté sauce, pretzels, soufflés--the possibilities stream in like a torrent at the behest of your aching stomach. It's enough to make you salvate just a bit.

"No, I believe I've had my fill for now."

Integrity shocks your mind out of its gluttonous stupor of handmade pasta, puff pastry, vol-au-vent, and pierogi, and you slap your hands against the counter in alarm.

"Are the, the cookies no longer to your satisfaction? Do they require adjustment? Too much sugar? Too little sugar? Should I change the flour?"

She chuckles, one bony hand resting firmly atop yours. You jerk back, but her grip is too strong. She leans down and pokes her head through the window to peer at you with her single eye. You lean back and look away--her gaze is too sharp, she can likely see the weariness beneath your eyes and the crackling of your lips. You run your tongue over them self-consciously.

“Feed yourself,” she chides firmly, wagging a finger. “Do not make me come in there.”

It is against the rules for non-kitchen staff to enter this sanctuary, but even so, you took her threat to heart. “Yes, madame.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

"Close the kitchen for an hour, and eat." Without giving you any room for argument, she picks up her tray and walks away, the tail of her jacket flowing behind her.

The quiet holds you for a moment before you look up at the screen. It's blank, but the clock is nearing noon. Closing the kitchen now would mean that the agents would have to wait until you're finished, and that wouldn't do. Maybe you could get by with chewing on some more mint until after lunch is served.

You suddenly grab your midsection when the fire in your stomach flares up angrily as if to protest your decisions, dry coughs disappearing into the sleeve of your elbow. It takes a few moments for you to compose yourself, but by then, your vision is swimming with dots of blues, greens, and whites.

Maybe you should heed Captain Amari's wisdom, after all.

When Ana comes for her afternoon tea, before you hand off her order, you ask again, “Arre you absolutely certain you would not like to have your cookies, Cap--Agent Ana?”

Granted, it would take half an hour to make them at this point, but the nagging in your mind remains.

"I'm very sure," she assures you. “Have you eaten yet?”

Embers still burn in your stomach, but it's bearable--not worth a mention.

“I have, thank you."

It’s the spare heads, fins, and tails of the seabass you have served everyone made into a broth over some leftover rice, but was still a meal that placated your stomach. (You had decided to save the ingredients Captain Amari so generously offered for another occasion—maybe make her some aish baladi—Egyptian bread. It’s not your strong point, but it was something you were willing to attempt for her.)

"Good. You must keep yourself in good health, we are counting on you.” 

“Yes, madame.” 

She scoffs, muttering something fond under her breath as she hefts the tray. "Now, I don’t suppose you could join us today?"

It’s not the first time she’s asked you to join her for tea. But what if someone orders and you're not there to receive it? What if they see you sitting around, joking, laughing, and making merry with the other agents while they stand at the terminal, waiting?

Your hands fly to your face and you inhale sharply. No, that won't do. Eating with your customers is something you can’t do. A chef does not eat before or during their customer’s meal times without someone there to cover.

“Thank you for the offer, but—I couldn’t.”

The older Amari hums contemplatively. "We'll get you to join us one day."

“Please enjoy your tea,” you say, pretending that her comment was just kind teasing and not a threat.

“Where are the cookies?” is the immediate reaction from Hanzo, who has started to become a regular member of these little get-togethers. 

"Why, is that all this old woman is good for? Are the cookies the only reason you keep me company?”

“I--no, you are mistaken.” Hanzo looks away, crossing his arms tightly against himself. 

“I’m just teasing,” she says warmly, placing the tray of cups and kettle on the table. Hanzo grunts, acknowledging the sentiment, but still indignant.

"Oh, let me." Mei is quick to lay out the cups and pour the tea while Ana takes her rightful seat. Hanzo looks irked that he would not be having Ana’s specialty cookies today, but a quick pat from the senior sniper on his arm changes that.

"Don't pout. We'll have some next time."  

"I do not pout. Do not be ridiculous."

She gives him a smug look over the rim of her cup that he tries to pointedly ignore with a loud slurp of his tea and winces at the taste--just a little too dark, doused far too heavily in sugar and mint.

From the kitchen, you stifle a laugh behind your hand as you watch Hanzo's reaction from the screens where the orders normally appear, jotting down in your notepad to make up for this lack of cookies, and that Agent Hanzo dislikes Koshary tea. 

Chapter 3>>

[easyfoodnetwork]

Dispatches From Food Service Workers Across the U.S.: ‘I’m Trying Not to Panic’

Shutterstock/Kondor83

Restaurant employees from Kentucky, North Dakota, New York, Oregon, and Minnesota share their stories

Last week, President Trump formed the Economic Revival Industry Group, a collection of 200 experts and industry leaders to inform the (possibly ill-advised) campaign to re-open the economy. The group, focused on restaurants, included numerous chain CEOs and celebrity chef-owners like Wolfgang Puck and Thomas Keller. And though the latter could hardly be expected to advocate for the needs of restaurant owners whose restaurants don’t have Michelin stars, there is another group notably absent from the committee: restaurant workers.

Independent restaurant owners are struggling with the realities and uncertainties of life in a pandemic, whether it’s having to lay off employees or trying to keep people paid as the business pivots to take-out only. But for your average food service worker — servers, bartenders, line cooks, and baristas — there is even less support. Restaurant employees made up 60 percent of the jobs lost in March. Twenty-two million people filed for unemployment in the past four weeks, leaving unemployment websites overwhelmed. The Paycheck Protection Program, which offers federal loans in exchange for keeping employees on payroll, is out of money. All this adds up to millions of food service workers being left without a paycheck.

Despite Trump’s plans, no one knows what the restaurant industry is going to look like on the other side of the pandemic. And so workers wait, hoping their restaurants will reopen, hoping they or their coworkers will be rehired, hoping there will be a workplace to come back to. As chains and fine-dining chefs are the only ones with access to the White House, it’s important to remember their experiences do not represent the restaurant industry as a whole. Whether or not restaurant workers, not merely restaurateurs, feel supported will be the true test of any government program’s success. With that in mind, we spoke to five restaurant workers across the country on what they’re experiencing right now. These are stories in their own words, edited lightly for clarity.

Gregg Adams, line cook at J Harrods, Louisville, Kentucky

The chef and I are the only kitchen staff left of four full-time and two part-timers. He takes a salary, I am on reduced hours, which means less money to repair the house and cars, much less save anything. Since this began we have been steadily losing customers. Our food isn’t geared for takeout, though we changed the menu some. Also, we made a lot of our money through drinks. Initially, the state only allowed the sale of closed alcohol containers, and some restaurants started selling flight bottles and half pints with soda or cup mixer on the side. Within a week, open alcohol sales were allowed rather than just packaged liquor, but it was too late for those who followed the rules.

I’m hanging in there, but I’m lucky. Not much has changed for me and my family. My wife is on medical disability with fixed income and doesn’t leave the house much. My teenager already practiced social distancing. My 26-year-old is working 60 hours a week at a local coffee chain. My 25-year-old works for UPS. I’m blessed to have employment. I know three other cooks and two chefs who are unemployed. But I can’t plan anything for anything now. I’m wondering about my concert tickets and my child’s education if my older children will get sick, and what my options are in general. I’m trying to not panic.

Massoud Violette-Sheikh, sous chef at the Heights, Ithaca, New York

I am 23 years old and have been working in the industry for five years, starting as a dishwasher at the Heights. My start in the industry was mainly out of necessity — dishwashing offered good hours and the possibility of upward mobility in the restaurant. But the work ethic and our local food community was contagious; I wouldn’t want to be in any other industry, even in these times. I rose to sous this past year. In an area where we are financially dependent on Ithaca College and Cornell as our main contributors to economic stimulation, this has train-wrecked the local economy.

At the Heights, all staff with the exception of our chef de cuisine have been temporarily let go. I think the post-pandemic dining landscape is going to be entirely different — staff cuts, wage cuts, and mandatory seating reduction will absolutely affect how we are able to eat. Even the most luxurious restaurants will have to cut back on menus, garnishes, and available reservations. I’m hopeful that diners will come out in droves after restaurants open up, but realistically that’s not likely. The social habits that we develop will linger. I spend a lot of time talking with my close friends and coworkers. Everyone just wants to be back in the kitchen — to be back home. As an individual I’m grateful for private grants such as the Restaurant Employee Relief Fund — programs like that are going to be our saviors. But our primary concern is how long our local independent restaurants, farms, and purveyors will be able to stay open. The debt to equity ratio in our industry is very high, and I expect to see places sink into irreversible debt. I hope customers will be patient as we get back on our feet; without their support, all that will be left is Chili’s and McDonald’s.

Marlena Chaboudy, cook at A Frame Bar & Grill, Westhope, North Dakota

Busy season is the beginning of spring through the end of summer. We are situated on Lake Metigoshe, and when the snow melts people start moving in their boats and readying their docks to enjoy their summer. We were all gearing up for that when the spread of the virus hit hard and hours were cut. Our place was then shut down for dine-in service and we tried to stay positive. I found out the secret was really not to make eye contact, because if I saw one of us start to tear up, it opened the floodgates for me.

I’m behind in rent, my vehicle is in need of a few repairs. I had planned on moving closer to work — I live about 40 miles away — and found a place, but will have to come by money for the utility and house deposits and rent in order to do so. My fiancé and I live together, and he also works at the A-Frame as a dishwasher. He has filed for unemployment but has a limited work history and hasn’t paid in enough in the quarters to draw unemployment. And he won’t get the one-sum stimulus check either, and that’s going to hurt. Living in a rural community, you can’t count on anything for relief. You can’t count on the small town store to get a delivery truck, or go to the store the same day and be able to buy a roll of toilet paper or a dozen eggs. I can’t guarantee that my internet will be functional much less my phone service, and trying to even access the unemployment website can take all day. You go to the gas station for a treat and you never know if they are open because if they haven’t had enough business that day to justify keeping the lights on, or paying an employee to sit there, they close early.

I don’t think the aid the government is giving is enough. Not at all! It’s getting bad everywhere. The people in the foodservice industry are the “blue collar” workers that everyone forgets about. We are not paid as much as the blue collar norm and making ends meet isn’t looking possible for most.

Rae Bullinger, former front of house at Rise Bagels, Minneapolis

We closed our dining room around March 16th, but kept our online and takeout phone ordering systems the same. After closing the dining room, it was fairly slow that first week, but we kept advertising the online and pick-up ordering and by the weekend our system just couldn’t keep up. On my weekend shift, we were so overwhelmed with online orders overnight that we actually had to turn the first customers away, because we were still trying to catch up with the online orders. The next day is when the owners decided to temporarily close. Before coronavirus, we had a good sense of how many bagels we needed each day of the week to fill our normal amount of orders. Once we started advertising more about online and phone ordering mid-March, our demand shifted to a point we couldn’t have predicted.

Before I started my job at Rise Bagel, I was a graduate student in the psychology field. I had to take a leave of absence in October due to an inpatient stay for my mental health, and decided to put school on pause and pursue a new career in food sustainability. I thought getting my foot in the door at a local restaurant that focuses on local, organic ingredients and sustainable practices would provide me with some great insight. The job finally gave me a sense of purpose and control when I hadn’t had that in a long time. However, when we suddenly had to close, it was like my sense of purpose also disappeared. My job was the one thing that kept me feeling certain about my future. Uncertainty about my future at Rise has led to an increase in my anxiety around leaving school and my future career. I have many fears of having to start all over again, and it’s hard to stay motivated when I can’t gain restaurant experience from my home.

Here in Minnesota, individual unemployment benefits are only given if you had made $3,000 or more before unemployment. Because I was in graduate school and had only been at my job at Rise for a few months, I did not meet this requirement and will not be receiving any unemployment benefits. For those making minimum wage (aka many of those in the food service industry), prerequisites like this may have some major impacts. I’m incredibly thankful to be living at home during this time with great support, but I couldn’t imagine being in a more dire situation and then denied benefits based on something I may not have had control over. I’m really glad something is being done for small business owners, but what really matters is what happens after this. A restaurant will only survive if better legislation is passed and people continue to visit even after social distancing orders are lifted. The attention and support food service employees and places are getting right now is amazing, but systematic change needs to occur for them to continue to survive.

Ashton Long, bartender, Portland, Oregon

We were all in an especially odd situation because we had just all been through training and had opened the restaurant, Bar King, to the public Monday, March 9th. Our restaurant closed down to the public on March 15th and began only providing takeout orders. Luckily, right now it is looking like we’ll be opening back up and all have our jobs back, but when? I don’t think anyone has even a clue. And that is terrifying.

My partner and I moved here in early January of this year. Luckily, he works from home, but I set out to find a job as soon as I got here, and even with my experience and my resume, it took me nearly two months to find something because of how competitive the service industry staffing is in Portland. I exhausted nearly all of my savings and threw all of my faith into the fact that I’d find a job when I got here, and then I worked for literally two weeks and then lost my job. I don’t remember a time in my life where I didn’t have two jobs and work anywhere from 40 to 70 hours a week, so having this much free time, and on such an incredibly STRICT budget of one income, has been extremely challenging to fill.

While I think the stimulus money is great, and quite literally a life saver for many — including me — unemployment has been a literal shit show and a nightmare to deal with. I still have yet to see any benefits or correspondence from either Michigan or Oregon to figure out what I need to do in this situation where I lived and worked in Michigan last year and Oregon now. While I do understand that having 2.2 MILLION people sign up for unemployment in the last month is overwhelming, if it weren’t for the stimulus check and my partner, I could very well be on my way back to Michigan right now to live with family. And as a 25-year-old who has never had to consider an option like that because I’ve always had work and savings, that is a horrifying and scary scenario.

If you’re a food service worker, Eater wants to hear your story. Please fill out this survey.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3cz9Lic https://ift.tt/2KmWSfe

Shutterstock/Kondor83

Restaurant employees from Kentucky, North Dakota, New York, Oregon, and Minnesota share their stories

Last week, President Trump formed the Economic Revival Industry Group, a collection of 200 experts and industry leaders to inform the (possibly ill-advised) campaign to re-open the economy. The group, focused on restaurants, included numerous chain CEOs and celebrity chef-owners like Wolfgang Puck and Thomas Keller. And though the latter could hardly be expected to advocate for the needs of restaurant owners whose restaurants don’t have Michelin stars, there is another group notably absent from the committee: restaurant workers.

Independent restaurant owners are struggling with the realities and uncertainties of life in a pandemic, whether it’s having to lay off employees or trying to keep people paid as the business pivots to take-out only. But for your average food service worker — servers, bartenders, line cooks, and baristas — there is even less support. Restaurant employees made up 60 percent of the jobs lost in March. Twenty-two million people filed for unemployment in the past four weeks, leaving unemployment websites overwhelmed. The Paycheck Protection Program, which offers federal loans in exchange for keeping employees on payroll, is out of money. All this adds up to millions of food service workers being left without a paycheck.

Despite Trump’s plans, no one knows what the restaurant industry is going to look like on the other side of the pandemic. And so workers wait, hoping their restaurants will reopen, hoping they or their coworkers will be rehired, hoping there will be a workplace to come back to. As chains and fine-dining chefs are the only ones with access to the White House, it’s important to remember their experiences do not represent the restaurant industry as a whole. Whether or not restaurant workers, not merely restaurateurs, feel supported will be the true test of any government program’s success. With that in mind, we spoke to five restaurant workers across the country on what they’re experiencing right now. These are stories in their own words, edited lightly for clarity.

Gregg Adams, line cook at J Harrods, Louisville, Kentucky

The chef and I are the only kitchen staff left of four full-time and two part-timers. He takes a salary, I am on reduced hours, which means less money to repair the house and cars, much less save anything. Since this began we have been steadily losing customers. Our food isn’t geared for takeout, though we changed the menu some. Also, we made a lot of our money through drinks. Initially, the state only allowed the sale of closed alcohol containers, and some restaurants started selling flight bottles and half pints with soda or cup mixer on the side. Within a week, open alcohol sales were allowed rather than just packaged liquor, but it was too late for those who followed the rules.

I’m hanging in there, but I’m lucky. Not much has changed for me and my family. My wife is on medical disability with fixed income and doesn’t leave the house much. My teenager already practiced social distancing. My 26-year-old is working 60 hours a week at a local coffee chain. My 25-year-old works for UPS. I’m blessed to have employment. I know three other cooks and two chefs who are unemployed. But I can’t plan anything for anything now. I’m wondering about my concert tickets and my child’s education if my older children will get sick, and what my options are in general. I’m trying to not panic.

Massoud Violette-Sheikh, sous chef at the Heights, Ithaca, New York

I am 23 years old and have been working in the industry for five years, starting as a dishwasher at the Heights. My start in the industry was mainly out of necessity — dishwashing offered good hours and the possibility of upward mobility in the restaurant. But the work ethic and our local food community was contagious; I wouldn’t want to be in any other industry, even in these times. I rose to sous this past year. In an area where we are financially dependent on Ithaca College and Cornell as our main contributors to economic stimulation, this has train-wrecked the local economy.

At the Heights, all staff with the exception of our chef de cuisine have been temporarily let go. I think the post-pandemic dining landscape is going to be entirely different — staff cuts, wage cuts, and mandatory seating reduction will absolutely affect how we are able to eat. Even the most luxurious restaurants will have to cut back on menus, garnishes, and available reservations. I’m hopeful that diners will come out in droves after restaurants open up, but realistically that’s not likely. The social habits that we develop will linger. I spend a lot of time talking with my close friends and coworkers. Everyone just wants to be back in the kitchen — to be back home. As an individual I’m grateful for private grants such as the Restaurant Employee Relief Fund — programs like that are going to be our saviors. But our primary concern is how long our local independent restaurants, farms, and purveyors will be able to stay open. The debt to equity ratio in our industry is very high, and I expect to see places sink into irreversible debt. I hope customers will be patient as we get back on our feet; without their support, all that will be left is Chili’s and McDonald’s.

Marlena Chaboudy, cook at A Frame Bar & Grill, Westhope, North Dakota

Busy season is the beginning of spring through the end of summer. We are situated on Lake Metigoshe, and when the snow melts people start moving in their boats and readying their docks to enjoy their summer. We were all gearing up for that when the spread of the virus hit hard and hours were cut. Our place was then shut down for dine-in service and we tried to stay positive. I found out the secret was really not to make eye contact, because if I saw one of us start to tear up, it opened the floodgates for me.

I’m behind in rent, my vehicle is in need of a few repairs. I had planned on moving closer to work — I live about 40 miles away — and found a place, but will have to come by money for the utility and house deposits and rent in order to do so. My fiancé and I live together, and he also works at the A-Frame as a dishwasher. He has filed for unemployment but has a limited work history and hasn’t paid in enough in the quarters to draw unemployment. And he won’t get the one-sum stimulus check either, and that’s going to hurt. Living in a rural community, you can’t count on anything for relief. You can’t count on the small town store to get a delivery truck, or go to the store the same day and be able to buy a roll of toilet paper or a dozen eggs. I can’t guarantee that my internet will be functional much less my phone service, and trying to even access the unemployment website can take all day. You go to the gas station for a treat and you never know if they are open because if they haven’t had enough business that day to justify keeping the lights on, or paying an employee to sit there, they close early.

I don’t think the aid the government is giving is enough. Not at all! It’s getting bad everywhere. The people in the foodservice industry are the “blue collar” workers that everyone forgets about. We are not paid as much as the blue collar norm and making ends meet isn’t looking possible for most.

Rae Bullinger, former front of house at Rise Bagels, Minneapolis

We closed our dining room around March 16th, but kept our online and takeout phone ordering systems the same. After closing the dining room, it was fairly slow that first week, but we kept advertising the online and pick-up ordering and by the weekend our system just couldn’t keep up. On my weekend shift, we were so overwhelmed with online orders overnight that we actually had to turn the first customers away, because we were still trying to catch up with the online orders. The next day is when the owners decided to temporarily close. Before coronavirus, we had a good sense of how many bagels we needed each day of the week to fill our normal amount of orders. Once we started advertising more about online and phone ordering mid-March, our demand shifted to a point we couldn’t have predicted.

Before I started my job at Rise Bagel, I was a graduate student in the psychology field. I had to take a leave of absence in October due to an inpatient stay for my mental health, and decided to put school on pause and pursue a new career in food sustainability. I thought getting my foot in the door at a local restaurant that focuses on local, organic ingredients and sustainable practices would provide me with some great insight. The job finally gave me a sense of purpose and control when I hadn’t had that in a long time. However, when we suddenly had to close, it was like my sense of purpose also disappeared. My job was the one thing that kept me feeling certain about my future. Uncertainty about my future at Rise has led to an increase in my anxiety around leaving school and my future career. I have many fears of having to start all over again, and it’s hard to stay motivated when I can’t gain restaurant experience from my home.

Here in Minnesota, individual unemployment benefits are only given if you had made $3,000 or more before unemployment. Because I was in graduate school and had only been at my job at Rise for a few months, I did not meet this requirement and will not be receiving any unemployment benefits. For those making minimum wage (aka many of those in the food service industry), prerequisites like this may have some major impacts. I’m incredibly thankful to be living at home during this time with great support, but I couldn’t imagine being in a more dire situation and then denied benefits based on something I may not have had control over. I’m really glad something is being done for small business owners, but what really matters is what happens after this. A restaurant will only survive if better legislation is passed and people continue to visit even after social distancing orders are lifted. The attention and support food service employees and places are getting right now is amazing, but systematic change needs to occur for them to continue to survive.

Ashton Long, bartender, Portland, Oregon

We were all in an especially odd situation because we had just all been through training and had opened the restaurant, Bar King, to the public Monday, March 9th. Our restaurant closed down to the public on March 15th and began only providing takeout orders. Luckily, right now it is looking like we’ll be opening back up and all have our jobs back, but when? I don’t think anyone has even a clue. And that is terrifying.

My partner and I moved here in early January of this year. Luckily, he works from home, but I set out to find a job as soon as I got here, and even with my experience and my resume, it took me nearly two months to find something because of how competitive the service industry staffing is in Portland. I exhausted nearly all of my savings and threw all of my faith into the fact that I’d find a job when I got here, and then I worked for literally two weeks and then lost my job. I don’t remember a time in my life where I didn’t have two jobs and work anywhere from 40 to 70 hours a week, so having this much free time, and on such an incredibly STRICT budget of one income, has been extremely challenging to fill.

While I think the stimulus money is great, and quite literally a life saver for many — including me — unemployment has been a literal shit show and a nightmare to deal with. I still have yet to see any benefits or correspondence from either Michigan or Oregon to figure out what I need to do in this situation where I lived and worked in Michigan last year and Oregon now. While I do understand that having 2.2 MILLION people sign up for unemployment in the last month is overwhelming, if it weren’t for the stimulus check and my partner, I could very well be on my way back to Michigan right now to live with family. And as a 25-year-old who has never had to consider an option like that because I’ve always had work and savings, that is a horrifying and scary scenario.

If you’re a food service worker, Eater wants to hear your story. Please fill out this survey.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3cz9Lic via Blogger https://ift.tt/2xPCMrm

[wittypenguin]

What Have We Learned?

Things we now understand after watching 25 hours and 46 minutes of kaijû weirdness (not including re-watching most films to get details and then comparing my notes vs IMDb’s quotes, plus trivia entires, and then composing reviews to clarify in my own mind what’s going on in the ‘plot’ and various other things). Realistically, we’re looking at a devotion of 48–50 non-contiguous hours of viewing and mental attention to movies featuring guys wearing big rubber suits.

Throughout the entire experience, I’ve watched courtesy of the above entry in the Criterion Collection (Spine #1000) which I got on sale but would have gladly paid full price, had I known just how much pleasure I’ve got from seeing these. Watching the extras on Disc 8, I can see just how much work went into the cleaning-up of the images to make them nearly free of scratches and flaws. Honestly, it’s like night and day when you see the flat colour and hail-like scratches on the frames after watching them in pristine condition for all those hours.

I’ve only watched with the Japanese dialogue and English sub-titles, unless the only option I had was English; as was the case with King Kong vs Godzilla. After hearing the audio for so many Japanese films now — plus Yôjinbô, Tsubaki Sanjûrô, Rashômon, and Shichinin no samurai — it’s tempting to start learning some Japanese. There’s a whole bunch of sounds and groups of words which I’m starting to recognize but do not actually know what they mean per se. The subtleties of hai are something I am certainly starting to get already. I know nothing of actual Japanese characters, however, so while I might recognize the “Hepburn Roman Characterization” of Shichinin no Samurai, the notion of learning an entirely new alphabet so as to also recognize 七人の侍 seems a trifle more daunting. From a distance, the idea of learning Japanese from kaijū films seems cool and fun and an intriguing challenge; but once one gets in up to one’s waist, the notion undoubtedly has much more heavy lifting than being able to point at a hillside and scream “あなたが実行する必要がありますか、巨大なハゲタカがあなたを食べるでしょう！” (or “Anata ga jikkō suru hitsuyō ga arimasu ka, kyodaina hagetaka ga anata o taberudeshou!” if you prefer).

That said, I noticed a heck of a lot of ‘borrowed words’ from English in the films! The following list is not complete, but it’s most of them.

Borrowed words

helicopter

Engine (as in ‘I am having trouble with the engine of my plane’)

Typhoon (although we may have borrowed from them)

handlebag (handbag)

zero (the numeral)

drums (as in oil drums)

Geiger Counter

Remote Control

Oxygen Destroyer

Stop! (as an order to a vehicle)

Blue Mountain (some variety of coffee)

gas (as in a vapour)

Space Titanium

Radar

Maser (as in ‘Maser Cannon’)

Driver (as in ‘screwdriver’)

OK

Thank you (this may have been used in the same way we would use the French, however)

Titanosaurus Controller

Piano (granted, we would call a koto by its name, so not too surprising) 

Musical saw (ibid)

tower (as in Tokyo Tower)

action (as in ‘action films’)

microphone

orchestra

prescore (as in ‘music composed before the score is created’)

Screen (as in ‘movie screen’)

camera

happy ending (as in a story element)

Producers (the film role)

story (as a script element)

scenario (ibid)

Other things we can learn by watching these films

Less useful, but the following things can be approached as ‘rules’ to an extent. They should not be considered to be set in stone by any stretch of the imagination, however. There are a large number of times that the films contradict themselves when considering one film after another, and sometimes even within the same scene. After all, when people saw the Giant Octopus in King Kong vs Godzilla, a number of fans cried out for ‘more octopus,’ and so Honda-sensei obliged with an octopus the next kaijû film he did, which was set in the mountains, a location where octopuses are considered ‘rare.’

Anyway, with that veeeeeery flexible matter in mind, here are things I’ve noticed can/will invariably happen:

Japanese harbours are surrounded by refinery equipment prone to attract kaijû for the destruction of

Everything will burn, no matter what it may be made of (which may actually be true)

If it can’t burn, it may burn anyway

If it really can’t burn, then it’ll probably explode or fall on people or both

People will always be in the way of the monster

Railways attract monsters like honey does bees

Ships within 5 miles of any monster will be swept up by a storm and be driven towards them, then either zapped or smashed, with no reason other than the monster feels like it

Aliens will always attack, and so will subterranean peoples

Monsters can be made to defend humans from other monsters, but only if you’re willing to make it a sport for them

When all else fails and you still haven’t got the help of your chosen kaijû, sing at it

It is pointless to fire missiles at a monster, but it is important to do so as it is the expected thing

All aliens hide their ugly forms (and all aliens are ugly)

Co-operation to solve a common problem — and all problems worth solving are common — is the only way forward. Compassion and love will see you through. 

People are flexible and play many roles

At one point I was trying to keep track of actors who appeared multiple times in these films, so as to create some sort of bananas story about how one person had ancestors who appeared in Kurosawa-sensei’s films, and then their descendent appeared in theses daft films, but they only were one person in the Godzilla Universe… If I had actually kept track of everyone I would go insane. I have no doubt someone, somewhere, has a spreadsheet with this information in it. I do not want it, please do not send it to me.

However, here are two actors whose credits boggle the mind when looked at:

Takashi Shimura (chronological according to the setting of the stories)

Woodcutter - Rashômon set in… 15xx…? (1950)

Rōnin Kambei Shimada - Seven Samurai set in 1586 (1954)

Information Bureau Director Hiroshi Shimomura - Japan’s Longest Day about the very last day of WWII in Japan (1967) 

Chief Detective Sato - Stray Dog (1949)

Palaeontologist Dr. Kyohei Yamane - Gojira (1954)

Palaeontologist Dr. Kyohei Yamane - Godzilla Raids Again (1955)

Newspaper Editor - Mothra (1961)

Psychiatrist Dr. Tsukamoto - Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster (1964)

Akihiko Hirata (eye-patch wearing man)

Dr. Daisuke Serizawa, slayer of kaijû - Godzilla (1954)

Chief Detective Okita - Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster

Captain Yamoto - Ebirah, Horror of the Deep (1966)

Environmental researcher Fujisaki - Son of Godzilla (1967)

Professor Hideto Miyajima - Godzilla vs Mechagodzilla (1974)

Dr. Shinzô Mafune - Terror of Mechagodzilla (1975)

Don’t forget that the last two of Hirata-san’s appearances over-lap each other’s time line, are direct contradictions of character, and they were possibly done within a few months of each other. Imagine Harrison Ford showing up in The Rise of Skywalker as some ancient fry cook who dispenses poisoned blue milk to the followers of the Rebellion. 

Now the following one is my favourite character actor in Japanese film. I’m positive this list is incomplete, as he did little appearances is seemingly any film Toho produced from 1950 through to his death in the mid-’70s. Once you get to know his face and the way he moves, he sticks out a mile, no matter how much make-up or weird wardrobe you cover him with. He’s fabulous and had the kind of career I once would have killed for.

Ikio Sawamura 

Constable Hansuke - Yôjinbô (1961)

Elderly Slave - Godzilla vs. The Sea Monster 

Priest blessing egg - Mothra vs Godzilla (1964)

Honest Fisherman - Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster (1964)

Elderly Slave on Devil’s Island - Ebirah, Horror of the Deep (1966)

Fisherman #1 - Furankenshutain no kaijû: Sanda tai Gaira 

Witch Doctor - King Kong vs. Godzilla

There are a bunch more but his final appearance was in Terror of Mechagodzilla (1975) as Mafune's Silent Butler. He passed away a few months after filming was complete but before it was released.

In conclusion…

All in all, I have had more fun watching all of this lunacy than one probably should. I’ve really been impressed with the storytelling, acting, and the model work (especially in the 1960s). I am probably going to watch most of them again at least once more before I put this aside and begin watching some other series off films with which I’ll become obsessed.

[lilacmoon83]

Dreaming Out Loud

Ships: Snowing, Rumbelle, Swan Believer, eventual Swanfire, and a delightful Golden Mad Charming BroT3. :)

Dreaming Out Loud

Chapter 9: Injustice

David stirred early the next morning, just before dawn. No matter what the circumstances, he was always going to be an early riser. He looked down and smiled at the sight of Mary cuddled against him. He dropped a kiss on her raven haired head and she made the sweetest sound, the same sound she always made when he used to kiss her awake in the mornings. She stirred and lifted her head, smiling shyly at him.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Morning beautiful,” he replied, as they got up and gently untangled from each other.

“I guess we fell asleep,” she mentioned.

“Yeah...Emma must have covered us with a blanket,” he guessed.

“It’s early...I think I’ll make breakfast,” she said, as she kissed him quickly. He smiled and Wilby whined at the door.

“I’m going to take Wilby out and then I’ll be back,” he called. She smiled and watched him go with a dreamy smile on her face.

While Wilby did his business outside by the tree, David picked up a copy of the Storybrooke Mirror that rested on the stoop. Damon’s picture was on the front and it seemed Sidney Glass had wasted no time exploiting the story to make headlines. He clutched the paper, as he read the story. It mentioned Damon’s attack on Mary, but almost made it seem like Mary’s frequent rebuking had instigated it. The reporter didn’t come right out and say it, but he could read between the lines. The reporter was implying Mary was to blame for the whole thing, no doubt at Regina’s request. He didn’t want Mary reading this trash, but he knew if she didn’t see it now, she’d find out later that day and it might be worse. He rolled up the paper and followed Wilby back up the stairs to Mary’s apartment. By that time, Emma was up, nursing a cup of coffee and not looking awake yet. He allowed himself a small smile. Emma was not a morning person. Mary was making eggs and he quietly slipped the paper down next to his daughter.

“Let me guess, Glass wrote some biased crap,” Emma muttered.

“Yeah...any idea who he might be?” David whispered. Emma turned the paper over and pointed to his picture on the back. David examined the face and knew he looked familiar.

“Any idea?” she asked.

“He looks familiar...I’m just not sure I can place him,” he replied.

“I’ll ask Henry...he has most of this figured out,” she said. He smiled at the mention of his grandson. He couldn’t wait to get to know the boy more.

Mary set plates down at the table with eggs and bacon.

“Thanks Mare...smells great,” Emma said, as they sat down.

“Is that the morning paper?” she asked.

“Uh...yeah, but you know same old crap,” the blonde replied.

“Yeah, nothing interesting,” David added. She cocked her head to the side, looking between them both.

“I appreciate you both trying to protect me, but I’ve lived in this town a long time. Whatever story Sidney Glass spun is sure to put Damon in a better light than me,” she said, kind of enjoying their surprised looks.

It was curious, as their mouths both hung open and she found amusing that they both looked almost exactly alike in that moment. She smirked and sat down, as she took the paper and read the article. She started biting her lip about half way through it and then looked up at their expectant faces.

“It’s not as bad as I thought. Damon can get away with a lot. He may own a sleazy club, but he’s on the City Council and pours a lot of money into this town,” she reasoned.

“I don’t care who the hell he is. He’s not getting away with what he did to you,” Emma said.

“She’s right...he’s in jail and he’s not getting out,” David agreed. Mary smiled thinly. She loved them both, but she was preparing herself for the reality that Damon would probably be walking free by lunchtime.

~*~

After breakfast, David kissed Mary goodbye for the day, promising to see her after work. He returned to Jefferson’s, endured his ribbing about not coming home, while he fed Wilby, and then hurried upstairs for a quick shower.

“So last night…” Jefferson prompted, as David poured some coffee in the travel mug Jefferson had given him.

“It’s not what you think. I just fell asleep on her couch,” he said.

“Too bad…” Jefferson commented.

“She went through a lot last night. That bastard attacked her and she’s convinced he’ll be walking free soon,” David said angrily.

“I hate it, but she’s probably right. The District Attorney will probably decide to drop the case and Regina will back him,” Jefferson warned.

“District Attorney?” David asked.

“He’s a lawyer and decides what cases to charge and which ones not to. Now in a normal town, there’s no question. They’d take this seriously that a teacher was attacked in her own classroom. But this is Storybrooke and it’s run by Regina and her cronies,” Jefferson tried to explain.

“Is this District Attorney anyone I know?” he asked. Jefferson sighed.

“Here he goes by Albert Spencer,” he replied.

“And back in our land?” David asked impatiently. Jefferson stared at him wearily.

“Just tell me,” David pleaded.

“King George,” Jefferson revealed. David clenched his fists and his blue eyes turned to ice.

“Tell me you’re joking,” he said.

“Believe me...I wish I was. This is the reality of the curse. Villains have wealth and power here. And heroes...they’re miserable and have had what they love most taken away,” he said solemnly and David knew the other man was talking about his child.

“This happiness you’ve brought to Mary...the Queen won’t let it stand. She’ll make her pay,” he warned.

“Like hell...I’ll fight her. I don’t care about her power. Emma and I will fight her...and Emma, she’s the Savior. She’ll win,” David refuted.

“Believe me...I hope you’re right. It’s just hard to keep hope in a place like this. At least no one else remembers why they’re miserable. That’s almost better, I think,” he mentioned.

“Regina’s not going to win...Emma will,” he assured, as he stood at the door.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, as he headed off to the animal shelter with Wilby in tow. He just hoped Emma would keep him in the loop of what was going on at the station.

~*~

Persephone and Ariel arrived on the deserted shores of Storybrooke, Maine. She gazed at the town both with trepidation and anxiousness. To finally gaze upon her daughter in person, face to face, brought a myriad of emotions for the embattled Goddess. But more so, she wondered how Snow would react once her memories were returned and she learned the truth. She imagined it would take her daughter time to come around to her or perhaps she would understand, being that she herself was forced to give her daughter up. Emma might have reacted much to the same to Snow and Charming, but thankfully since she stepped in and had the dreamscape created for them, Emma was far more prepared to accept her destiny. She would embrace her parents with open arms when their memories were restored and she only hoped for much the same from Snow.

She recalled the days of watching her daughter from afar and her struggles to survive against the Queen’s wrath. She remembered practically begging Morpheus to help and the dreamscape had been the result. Being here now brought it all rushing back…

~*~

The years continued to pass and the hardship for Snow did not lessen. But her daughter grew from a typical royal into a fierce warrior, bandit princess of the likes which none had seen. She was extraordinary and Persephone marveled at all of it.

Persephone had the great pleasure and heartache of watching Snow find her true love in the shepherd, now turned prince. She watched them find each other and lose each other constantly in their war to stay alive against Queen Regina and the vengeful King George.

She rejoiced when her daughter’s true love awoke her from the sleeping curse and they were married before all. But that’s when her joy faded. Queen Regina’s declaration that she would cast the Dark Curse, the darkest piece of magic in all the lands, nearly sent Persephone into a panic.

If her daughter was sent to the Land Without Magic, Persephone would not be able to see her anymore or look after her. That’s when she implored her Mother to help protect Snow and her family. That had led them back to Morpheus’ Temple, just as Queen Regina crushed her own father’s heart.

Persephone watched her daughter cry out in pain, as she gave birth to her own daughter. Her own child that would be ripped from her as well.

“Please Morpheus...there must be something you can do!” Persephone pleaded.

“You know I cannot stop the Dark Curse. Not even Zeus can do that,” he chided.

“I know...but if they are in the Land Without Magic, my ability to see them will be even more limited! There must be something we can do! There must!” she pleaded. He sighed.

“There is the option of a dream world,” Demeter suggested. He looked at her incredulously.

“You want me to create a dreamscape for Snow White and her family? Do you know how many rules that breaks?” he hissed. Demeter rolled her eyes.

“I’ll never understand your preoccupation with duty and rules. Hell, Zeus himself has broken every single one of his own rules! You can do this! Emma can know her parents, if only in her dreams,” Demeter pleaded.

“This is highly unorthodox,” he lamented.

“Emma’s life will be hard. Being the Savior doesn’t mean she should have to endure all this on her own. If she has Snow and Charming to guide her, think about the positive effect it will have. The Dark Curse must be undone by her. Why not give her every weapon we can!” Demeter reasoned. Morpheus sighed.

“I will grant this, if for no other reason, than the Dark Curse is an abomination and I guess good could use a little extra help this time,” he said. Demeter smirked.

“And you like Snow,” the goddess mused, as she watched Morpheus’ dust sweep over Snow, Charming, and Emma, just before the chaos ensued.

Persephone could only watch, helpless, as Charming put his daughter in the wardrobe, only to be cut down seconds later. She feared for her daughter’s true love, but Mother ensured that his lifeline would not be cut on this night. It cut her deeply to watch Snow sob over her beloved, fearing that she had lost him forever and raged as the Evil Queen got what she wanted.

She sunk to her knees as the entire Kingdom disappeared, ripped away to a Land Without Magic to lives where she had no idea if they would be safe.

“It will be all right, darling. Emma is the Savior, she will break the curse. And when the final battle begins, you can finally reveal yourself to Snow,” Demeter said.

“How can you be sure?” Persephone asked.

“Athena has foreseen it. Emma may save her parents and her Kingdom. But Snow will save you from Hades’ trappings,” Demeter assured.

“There may be a complication,” Artemis said, as she appeared.

“What is it?” Persephone implored.

“Deimos...he was swept up in the curse,” she revealed. Demeter clenched her teeth.

“Hades…” she hissed.

“Oh Gods...then he knows. He’s found out who my daughter is! How did he find out?” Persephone cried, as Artemis put a hand on her shoulder.

“How...I do not know. He may have, but Hades cannot interfere anymore in this land than we can. In this place, all but Regina do not know who they are anymore. No doubt that Deimos is still a horrid being, but I have hope that without his memories, Snow will be safe,” Artemis assured.

“Safe? She’s cursed! She’s lost her daughter and her husband! My granddaughter is alone, because Cora was jealous of how beloved my Snow is and molded Regina into her image. If Cora had been able to manage it, she would have taken my daughter’s Throne for herself!” Persephone raged.

“If not for Eva telling her secret, she would have done just that,” Demeter commented.

Persephone snorted.

“I don’t blame Eva one bit. Cora is evil to her very core. I swear...when someone finally sends her to the Underworld, I will make sure it is not pleasant for her,” Persephone growled.

“Vengeance is not your way, darling,” Demeter soothed.

“Maybe not...but I will see that woman gets what she deserves. She has destroyed her own daughter’s life and has tried to destroy my daughter’s as well. It will not go unpunished,” Persephone stated. And Demeter couldn’t disagree. Persephone sighed.

Twenty eight years...that was usually a drop in the bucket for a God. But for Persephone, it would truly be an eternity…

~*~

And it had seemed like an eternity. Not being able to gaze upon her little snowdrop had been soul crushing, particularly during her allotted time in the Underworld. Seeing her daughter, even though her viewing pond, had been her only respite when in Hades clutches. Shortly before the curse, Hades had fallen for a wicked witch from the land of Oz. It had given hope that perhaps Hades would release her from her bindings to him. Unfortunately for her, the witch had ultimately rejected Hades and he had returned even more harsh and cold than before. His indifference changed to interest in her again, much to her chagrin. He had regained a firmer hand on her and demanded she perform her wifely duties. She refused every time, but that did not stop him. He forced her to do what he wanted and took from her what she had never given to him, much like he had in the beginning. To be free of him was liberating. She knew he would be furious, but with no access to the Land Without Magic, she was out of his reach for now.

“This is a strange land. Do you know where we should go?” Ariel asked.

“Fortunately, I have done my research on this land and had enough sense to conjure some useable currency. We’ll start by finding an inn and getting a couple of rooms,” Persephone said.

~*~

“I can’t believe this! You can’t let this happen!” Emma screamed, as she followed him into his office and slammed the door shut. Damon Tromera was no doubt smirking smugly in his cell, for he knew he would be free soon.

“It’s out of my hands, Emma,” Graham said regrettably.

“That’s bull! He attacked Mary Margaret! He’s stalking her! This is her life we’re talking about!” Emma yelled.

“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped back and she recoiled slightly. He took a deep breath.

“My hands are tied. The district attorney has dropped the charges and the Mayor has ordered his release,” he said.

“You know this is wrong. We have Mary Margaret’s statement! And David’s!” Emma replied.

“And since David stopped the attack before anything physical happened, it’s a case of he said she said,” he said regrettably.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Emma exploded.

“I’m sorry Emma, you know I am,” he pleaded.

“So...because Damon didn’t get the chance to hit her, there’s suddenly no case?” she exclaimed.

“Basically. And if I press to charge Damon on assaulting David, then I’ll have to arrest David for assault as well since they were both fighting,” Graham replied.

“This is crap! What happens if he gets Mary alone again? What if he beats her or God forbid rapes her?! What then? I suppose it will be her fault then too!” Emma screamed.

“Dammit Emma...you know I hate this as much as you do!” he retorted.

“Really? You hate it so much, but not when it comes to sleeping with the enemy, right?!” she blurted out.

“That’s not fair,” he growled. She glowered at him.

“No...what’s not fair is that my mo...best friend,” she said, catching herself.

“My best friend has to look over her shoulder every minute of her day, because this town’s leadership is so corrupt that they will protect a piece of trash like Damon Tromera over the sweetest person I’ve ever met!” Emma said, completely losing her temper.

“I’ve already drawn up a restraining order for Mary,” he tried to soothe, but Emma only snorted.

“Oh yeah...cause a restraining order is really going to stop a guy like that,” Emma said, as she grabbed her keys.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To the source of all this,” she retorted. He sighed and followed her out.

“My, my deputy...such a fiery temper, though I’ll admit I find that attractive in a woman,” Damon goaded. Emma approached the bars, glaring murderously at him.

“I’m going to say this once, you piece of shit. You stay the hell away from Mary Margaret,” she growled. But he only smirked smugly, as she stormed out.

“Well Sheriff...I believe there is no need to keep me in here any longer,” Damon said. Graham glared at him.

“The papers haven’t arrived yet so you’ll stay in there until they do,” Graham refuted. But the smug bastard just smirked again. He would be walking free soon enough.

~*~

David went into Gold’s pawn shop through the back entrance with Wilby that afternoon. They thought it best for both him and Jefferson to use the concealed entrance, since it was clear that Regina might be watching all of them.

“Hello David,” Belle greeted, as she worked on cataloging some of the miscellaneous items they had in the back.

“Belle...it’s good to see you,” he said, as Wilby went right up to the woman, who grinned.

“Well hello to you too,” she said, as she knelt down to pet the dog.

“And Wilby says hello too,” David said.

“Oh he’s gorgeous. Mr. Gold mentioned you adopted a dog,” she said.

“Yeah...Wilby and I just clicked. I see you’re staying busy,” he mentioned.

“I am and I’ll soon be even busier. I haven’t told anyone yet, but Mr. Gold gave me the most wonderful gift this morning,” she gushed. He smiled.

“Well...don’t keep me in suspense,” he prompted.

“Well...as you know, I don’t really have any memories, but I do know that I love books. When I asked him a couple days ago if the town had a library, he said it had been closed for years,” he said sadly.

“I dropped the subject, figuring that maybe the high school would let me check out some books, but they had the sorriest book collection I’d ever seen! I mean, what kind of school doesn’t have decent books?” she rattled on. He smiled.

“Probably one where the students never move on and learn anything anyway,” he thought silently. He still couldn’t figure out how this town was Regina’s happy ending, other than her daily goal of making Mary Margaret’s life hell. How she could be happy making people miserable was beyond him.

“Well...I’m pretty new at all this stuff too. I have some memories of who I am, but we’re kind in the same boat in a way. I’m pretty clueless when it comes to how this world works, but Emma did tell me about this thing called the Internet. She said you can get anything from there. Maybe they have books,” he suggested. She smirked.

“Perhaps...but I might not need to, because Mr. Gold gave me these this morning,” she said.

“Keys?” he asked.

“To the library! He bought me the library! Can you believe it?” she exclaimed. He chuckled.

“That’s quite a gesture. Congratulations...I think you’ll make an excellent librarian,” he said.

“Thanks. I have a lot of work to do. The place is a dusty mess, but somehow Mr. Gold got Regina to give me a budget and everything, so I’ll have to try this Internet thing and order more books,” she replied.

“Well...let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” he said.

“There might be something,” she replied.

“Name it,” he said.

“Well, the state of the high school library got me thinking. I bet the elementary school’s library is just as pitiful. I was wondering maybe if you’d talk to Mary Margaret. Reading is so important, especially at the age of her students. Do you think she’d be up for bringing them on a field trip to the library when it opens?” Belle asked. He grinned.

“I can’t speak for her, but I have a feeling she’ll love the idea. I’ll tell her about it,” he said.

“Thanks David. If you’re looking for Mr. Gold, he and Mr. Jefferson are in the front of the shop,” she said.

“Thanks. Good luck with the library,” he called, as he headed to the front of the shop.

~*~

Emma stormed into Regina’s office and slammed the door behind her.

“Miss Swan...I know you have no tact, but at least knock before you barge into my office,” Regina snapped. But Emma ignored her.

“Why the hell would you order Damon Tromera’s release after what he did?” Emma shouted. Regina gave her a cool stare.

“Because that whole altercation was a simple misunderstanding,” Regina replied.

“Misunderstanding? You can’t be serious! He attacked Mary Margaret!” Emma exclaimed.

“So she says,” Regina retorted.

“He would have done God knows what to her if David hadn’t gotten there when he did. And this then trashy article all but implies that Mary Margaret was asking for it!” Emma screamed, as she tossed the paper down on the desk.

“Maybe she was,” Regina leered.

“I don’t believe you! As a woman, how could you defend a would be rapist?! Does your hatred for Mary Margaret go so deep that you actually wish for something like that to happen to her? To the sweetest person I’ve ever met?” Emma demanded to know.

“Mary Margaret is anything but sweet and innocent. Don’t let her little act fool you. Anything bad that happens to her, I assure you, she deserves it,” Regina snapped. Emma looked at her in disbelief.

“How the hell did you get like this?” Emma asked, though she knew the story her parents had told her. Still...it was hard to believe this woman had ever been the kind, gentle woman that her mother described when she first met Regina.

“I’m very busy, Miss Swan, so kindly get out,” Regina snapped. Emma glared at her.

“I don’t know how yet, but if Damon Tromera comes near Mary Margaret again or David for that matter, I’ll find a way to make the charges stick,” Emma promised.

“Why do you care about those two idiots so much, Miss Swan?” Regina questioned suspiciously.

“They’re my friends,” Emma said automatically. But Regina wasn’t letting that pass as an answer this time. There was more here and she wanted to know what it was. Fortunately, Sidney was busy digging through Emma Swan’s past.

“If you ask me, Miss Blanchard has brought this on herself. For years, she rejected Mr. Tromera and then immediately jumps in bed with a coma patient. No one can blame him for feeling slighted,” Regina reasoned.

“I don’t care if he’s slighted or insulted! He better never try to put his hands on her again!” Emma shot back.

“If you’re quite done, Miss Swan. I have a lot of work to do. Get out and while you’re at it, stay away from my son. Don’t think I don’t know about your “secret meetings” at his castle,” she snapped. Emma snorted.

“Figures you’d have your lapdog reporter following me,” Emma commented.

“He is my son, Miss Swan,” Regina snapped.

“You know, the tighter your grip on him, the faster he’ll slip through your grasp,” Emma warned, as she left without another word. Regina slammed her pen down and picked up the phone.

“What did you find?” she demanded to know.

“I just finished going through everything I could find. I’m not a hacker though. I can’t get the sealed records from social services,” Sidney reported. Perhaps she needed to employ another avenue with this. She needed those records unsealed.

“Fine...I need to get rid of this woman and those two idiots,” she muttered, as she slammed the receiver down.

“I need to know all your secrets, Emma Swan,” she hissed, as she felt a shudder in the ground beneath her that seemed to reverberate through the whole town. Emma Swan’s secrets would have to wait.

“What the hell was that…” she uttered, as she picked up the phone.

“Sheriff…” Graham answered.

“Did you feel that shudder?” she asked, as another one rumbled through the ground.

“Yes...I’m heading out to check it out now,” Graham replied. Regina hung up the phone and gazed pensively out the window. She had lost control so quickly and it made her wonder if she had ever really had control at all. This was Rumpelstiltskin’s curse, after all. He had planned this. He had never intended to let her win and was content to let her be made a fool of. She angrily threw a glass and shattered the mirror on the wall.

“This won’t stand. I’ll make you pay too, Rumpelstiltskin,” she growled, as an idea formed in her mind and she smirked evilly. It would have to wait for now, but that would just make it that much sweeter when she enacted her revenge...

[pinkrabbitpro]

Title: Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid Summary: Cat Grant gives birth link at AO3 or read it behind the cut below.

Outside the DEO, it’s a very unspectacular day. Pleasant weather, sun shining, nobody invading or blowing anything up, making it a pleasant change from the previous day. Which is a good thing because inside the DEO is a completely different story. All hell is breaking loose there as doctors and nurses rush from point to point, checking monitors and outputs and requesting drugs.

Mostly for themselves.

After all, they’re working mostly in the dark and more than a few shins have been busted.

“AIEEEEEFFFFFUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!”

And then there’s the screaming, shrieking really, loud—the decibel level enough to make a few people wonder about ear drum damage—and very profane to the point that ‘fuck’ is actually one of the more polite words heard. The DEO is staffed by professionals, many of them former military, special forces, and law enforcement, people who historically know their way around salty language.

At least one is eventually reduced to tears by the sheer rawness of what’s shouted.

“Just breathe,” Kara Danvers says and quickly starts demonstrating the breathing learned in hours of classes only to pull to a strangled halt as a hand clamps down on hers with a strength that would have anyone else screaming in agony. Even she winces as the next round of screams breaks forth.

“WE ARE NEVER HAVING SEX AGAIN!!!”

Cat Grant is having a baby. A hybrid. Kara’s child. And while she’s spent most of the pregnancy awash in hormones that have left her vacillating between horny-as-hell and kitteny-sweet, at that precise moment—not so much.

Actually, there are ravening beasts from the dankest pits of hell with more sweetness in them than Cat suffering through labor. She wants this baby. She loves this baby. And she really, really wants this baby out of her. Any delay in that process is not well received.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Kara whispers as she tenderly rubs Cat’s back. Super hearing lets her track the Cat’s and the baby’s heartbeats more efficiently than any of the monitors and she can hear them both, strong and steady.“You’re doing great.”

Standing next to the doctor in charge, Alex Danvers glances over at her sister as Cat responds. It’s not a pretty sight.

“I mean it!” Cat roars. ”You are never getting near me with your Kryptonian Vaginal Super Sperm™ ever again!”

Alex seriously considers fainting at that point. Seriously. Fainting. Dead. Away. Because this whole process has taught her far more about certain aspects of her sister’s private life than she ever wanted to know. Ever. Because she’s had to be intimately involved. She’s the one who figured out the mystery of Cat’s pregnancy when all hell was on the verge of breaking loose the first time because Kara panicked, thinking Cat had cheated and Cat panicked because she hadn’t.

Alex is the one who figured out that Kryptonian women don’t have ova—eggs—but rather cell clusters which, on Krypton met, mated and dated other cell clusters, on a very rare occasion during sex, but more often under the direction of a complicated computer system. Then after the mating and dating when they were all cuddled up and getting to know each other, the cell clusters worked together to build themselves a protective outer membrane, before settling down for some hardcore cellular division.

On Earth it went a little differently. The cell cluster encountered one of these newfangled Earth-type egg thingies, decided it quite liked this bit of innovation, moved in and one u-haul later, they were down to the serious business of babymaking.

Exactly how that meet and greet came about is one those things Alex sincerely wishes she didn’t know.

But she does since she’s the one tasked with tracking Cat’s pregnancy and setting the birth protocols. She been careful to consider what light does for Kara and what it might do for her baby when it’s being brought into the world by a very human female. Probably nothing will happen, but with a possible light powered, super baby on the way, and a very human, very slightly built mother pushing fifty, Alex has opted for caution. Which means the best doctors, as little light as possible and her presence in a situation where she really doesn’t want to know some things.

“Just keep breathing,” Kara soothes, still rubbing Cat’s back gently. “And I don’t have sperm,” she adds, her easy-going mien slipping just a little. “I have...whatever it’s called, but it’s not sperm.” Winn’s jokes have left her a little sensitive on that front.

“I’m pregnant, aren’t I?” Cat demands at ear-piercing decibels. “By that goddamned demon sex toy of yours.”

Alex moans, wavers on her feet, and adds the invention of brain bleach to her to-do list.

“I want that damned dildo from hell burned!” Cat shrieks. Her jaw clamps tight as she fights a scream and buries her face in Kara’s shoulder. “Can you even kill Kryptonian Super Sperm or is it as invulnerable as the rest of you?” she demands, her voice nowhere near muffled enough for the comfort of anyone in the room. Or any of the neighboring rooms either. “Is it still out there even now waiting to impregnate some innocent passer-by?”

“You were hardly innocent...or passing by,” Kara points out even as she snuggles Cat protectively close and looks toward her sister, her eyes showing her fear. Any jokes or sarcasm aside, Cat and this baby are everything to her.

“They’re okay,” Alex assures her. “Vitals are good, no distress.”

“The hell there’s no distress,” Cat growls.

“Shhhh, you’re safe,” Kara soothes, still rubbing and feeling hopelessly helpless since she can’t do anything else.

“I love you,” Cat mumbles into Kara’s shoulder when the latest contraction eases. She settles a hand on her belly, feeling the ripple of muscle and the shape of their baby. “I know I’m yelling and I’m sorry and I love you both so much.” She sniffs at a sudden flow of tears, her hormones all over the map.

“I know,” Kara soothes and feels Cat’s other hand clamp down again as a fresh wave of pain hits and she snarls a fresh profanity. “Just breathe through it,” she encourages, petting pale hair tenderly and demonstrating the breathing pattern again in effort to get her through it. “You can do this.”

“Fuuuuuck,” Cat exhales in time with Kara’s slow breathing exercises. “Which is something we will not be doing anymore!” She gasps sharply, then pushes into Kara’s hold, her voice dropping to a whimper as the pain abates a little. “Hurts.” “I know.” Kara presses a soft kiss to her love’s temple, then turns a look toward Alex that shows her fear.

“You’re doing great,” her sister assures them both. “We’re in the home stretch.”

“Do not use the word stretch around me!” Cat shouts, then cringes under the force of another wave. “And you,” she glares at Kara, “plan on lots of celibacy!”

“Okay,” Kara murmurs and cuddles her lover.

“I mean it!”

“I know,” Kara says mildly, though she’s sure Cat doesn’t really. She quickly goes back to encouraging Cat to do the breathing exercises.

It takes another hour, then Baby Zor-El-Danvers-Grant enters the world and immediately giggles happily, ready for a new adventure.

“She’s definitely yours,” Alex drawls as she grins at her sister. A few quick medical procedures and she’s handed over for the ceremonial counting of fingers and toes. All are present and quickly accounted for.

Cat’s almost too exhausted to complain that it’s not fair for her to see her last considering she did most of the work of bringing her into this world. Almost.

So finally a tiny, wriggling form is settled into Cat’s arms. She’s pink, with a bit of blonde hair and already staring at the world through amazingly focused blue eyes.

Cat falls in love instantly, possibly faster than instantly if such a thing is possible, and given this baby has two mommies, one of whom can fly, don’t rule it out. “She’s worth it,” she whispers very softly and doesn’t even complain when Alex turns on the same sun lamps Kara uses for healing, just slips on sunglasses and smiles at Kara. “So worth it.”

Baby names are still under discussion as Cat has allowed a Kryptonian name would be acceptable, while simultaneously nixing anything Astra related. Not due to any remaining anger over the occasional attempt to take over the world so much as an absolute rule that, “You will not name my child anything that begins with ass. She has to go to school one day and I won’t saddle her with any of the nicknames that will result.”

“She’s beautiful,” Kara whispers, settling into place behind Cat and wrapping her arms around both of them. It’s hard to tell who looks more tired, her or Cat. “She looks like you,” she murmurs as she kisses Cat’s hair.

“She looks like a baby,” Cat scoffs, though she leans in to peer more closely at her daughter. “The most perfect baby ever, I’ll grant. Well, girl baby. Carter was the most perfect boy baby.” She peers more closely. “And if she looks like anyone, it’s you.” She tips her head to one side, smiling as the baby does likewise, though she adds a giggle for good measure. “She giggles. I don’t giggle.”

“I can make you giggle,” Kara disagrees and leans in close to whisper in Cat’s ear.

She earns a glare and a quick slap on the hand for her temerity. “That’s how we got in this position in the first place,” she chastises, though she’s smiling and no slappage follows when Kara whispers a few suggestions in her ear.

Alex fights a wave of nausea. Apparently the no-sex-ever-again rule will not be holding. Pity. Super anti-nausea meds get added to the to-do list right after brain bleach. “I’ll...uh...go let everyone know we’ve got a new member of the family,” she quickly interrupts. “That’ll give you two a few minutes alone.” And her a chance to grab some Maalox. “Maybe more than a few depending on how hard it is to get J’onn out from under headphones.” Like her, he learned things he didn’t want to know. Unlike her, he had the option of hiding. She directs a meaningful look Kara’s way, then slips out.

Happy, comfortable, and heavily medicated, Cat sinks back into Kara’s arms, trusting the younger woman to keep her safe. “She’s amazing,” she mumbles sleepily, unable to take her eyes from the tiny figure cuddled in her arms.

“So are you,” Kara sighs and smiles down at the woman in her arms.

Dark blonde brows rise as Cat casts a doubtful look Kara’s way. “I made a grown Martian cry.”

“Did it make the pain more bearable?” Kara knows her too well.

“A little,” Cat admits with a smirk.

She earns a chuckle and a soft kiss, then Kara reaches into a pocket and retrieves a small box. Opened, it reveals a pair of rings, the bands cast in ornate gold twists unlike anything Cat has ever seen.

“I was going to do this sooner, but what with alien attacks and Clark going a little wacko and...well...you know what all happened.” She casts a tender gaze on their child. “Then pumpkin here decided to come early and...well...I wasn’t sure of your answer there for a little while.”

Cat just stares.

“On Krypton these would be bracelets, but I figured on Earth, rings would be more appropriate...”

Cat blinks, still staring.

“And the jeweler did a really beautiful job keeping the basic design, just smaller,” Kara continues increasingly slowly, Cat’s silence leaving her uncertain. “They’re wedding rings,” she feels the need to explain at last.

Cat manages a stiff nod. There are tears in her eyes and she has to swallow hard against the tightness in her throat to have any prayer of speaking.

Kara, meanwhile, is beginning to panic. She’d thought the answer was foregone, but suddenly she’s having doubts. “I...uh...it’s—”

“Yes,” Cat says before she can utter another syllable. She considers pointing out she has four unsuccessful marriages under her belt, is mercurial and rude on her best day, and has a temper that can literally make grown men cry, but one thing she not, is stupid. “God, yes.”

It takes a moment for the answer to sink in, but finally it does and Kara beams. They’re still kissing when Alex returns with her mother, Carter, and J’onn in tow.

Eliza is over the moon over her first grandchild even if she still looks a little askance where Cat is concerned.

Carter takes one look and a second Grant heart is captured, though he’s almost scared to touch for fear of damaging this tiny creature that is his new sister. He sits on the bed next to his mother and cautiously plays fingertag, smiling when she quickly catches on to the game.

J’onn frowns and hangs back. He is family for Alex and Kara, but he’s uncertain about his place in this story, and slightly afraid of this strange woman with whom Kara has chosen to share her life. He’s a creature of rigid control and absolute calm.

She is not.

So when she looks at him and clears her throat, he freezes, wondering what fresh hell may be coming.

“Sorry for...y’know...earlier,” she mumbles without specifying any more than that. Best some things never get repeated. “I don’t handle pain well.”

He nods stiffly.

“We’d like you to be her godfather,” Kara inserts into the moment, smiling at his surprise. “She couldn’t have better,” she adds.

He’s surprised when Cat nods her agreement. “Kara has told me how much you’ve helped her.” They share a look. “And we’d be grateful.” After all, given her parents, she’s likely to get in some trouble along the way.

He draws closer, studying mother and child. The baby in her arms is tinier than any Martian child, and even as a Kryptonian hybrid, likely weaker, but she is his family. On Mars, no adult would show a false face to a newborn of any import. Tradition holds that if a baby sees a true face, they will always know family no matter how they appear, so he shifts, no longer showing his borrowed human face. He suddenly understands his unofficial, almost-daughter’s love for this woman when she shows no surprise or revulsion and simply tips the baby in her arms his way with no shyness or uncertainty.

“This is your Uncle J’onn,” she tells the baby. “Which is apparently more complicated to spell than it sounds like, but that’s okay.” She shrugs. “Most people don’t understand apostrophes, and he’s otherwise a very good man.”

Kara grins broadly and adds. “And you can always trust him.”

He reaches out, and while the tiny hands that grab for his fingers in no way replace his lost children, some of the void that still remains is filled. Later, he will deny it, but his voice is thick and ragged when he simply says, “Thank you. She’ll always have my protection.”

Then Cat is tired and slightly rude as she shoos them out with the excuse the baby needs her rest. In reality, the baby is giggly and adores the crowd and it is her mamas who need the sleep.

Alex offers to dim the lights, but Cat waves her off. “You said it’s good for her,” she mumbles and pulls a sleep mask on, then snuggles into Kara’s protective arms. She’s asleep in moments.

Later there will be more visitors and well wishes and even a few presents. Winn brings a specially designed laptop marked, ‘Baby’s First Computer’ while James appears with book of hand designed coupons for photography lessons and help choosing a first camera. Vasquez’ gift is immediately confiscated and removed to a high security weapons locker. Olivia sends letters written with an eye to getting baby Zor-El-Danvers-Grant into the very best preschool, grade school, high school, and universities (undergraduate, post graduate, and doctoral), and an IOU for updated versions once she has a name. Clark sends a baby sized supersuit and a note complaining that they’re now available at Walmart and he gets no licensing fees. Lois sends birth control pills and note that simply says, ‘Haha’.

And Alastra Elmyra (though her family privately spells it El Mayarah) Hope Zor-El-Danvers-Grant (Danvers-Grant to non-family) gets two adoring parents and a family almost as extended as her name.

And they all live happily.

Well, until Zod shows up.

[bulgarianmermaid]

There are places you know you will miss from the first moment you set your eyes on them. Those places feel like home without you even having thought of visiting them let alone living there before. Deep into the Caucasus Mountains, where Georgia ends and Russia begins, at the top of Cross Pass outside Gudauri, you can still find high mountain peaks, desolate roads, rugged landscape, and unexplored wilderness that make my heart sing. High up there, where >5000m peaks kiss the bright blue sky and most people lose their breath, that is where I get found. The wilderness speaks directly to my soul, it calls my wild heart, it urges me to explore. It calms me down, I sleep without a single worry, nothing matters and all our “modern” concerns seem like “first world problems”.

The real Georgia in winter is cold and snowy, rough around the edges, wild and untamable, high in altitude and strong in liquor content. Just how I like my destinations (and my men) ❤ A few places in the American West had such a profound effect on me, an effect so strong I didn’t want to leave, let alone go back to the city. The Caucasus Mountains remind me of the San Juans in Southwest Colorado high up Red Mountain Pass from Ouray to Silverton – a place where I camped without a tent at 12000ft elevation and that experience was the best birthday present I could have ever asked for ❤

Gudauri is the largest ski resort in Georgia hidden deep in the Caucasus Mountains on Georgia Military Road almost all the way to the Russian border. Gudauri Ski Resort‘s base is at >2000m, its highest chair lift reaches 3200m, so with a vertical drop top to bottom on a ski run 1200m, it will surely make your legs shake 🙂 All 75km of groomed ski runs in Gudauri sit above tree line facing the sun and grant you the view of a lifetime every single chair ride. In terms of snow conditions, terrain quality, lift services and variety of ski runs, Gudauri can rival any ski resort in the Alps and the Rockies. Gudauri just added 4 new chair lifts this season and opened a whole new valley on the back side (Kobi) to off piste skiing and riding. Yet you can still have the whole resort to yourself and ski right behind the snow cat on empty slopes during the week.

Since I was in Gudauri for 2 weeks with IntotheWild.bg, we could choose what to do each day depending on the conditions and we rode off piste every time we got a foot of new snow. On the days when Ullr didn’t deliver overnight freshies, we basked in the sun and rode soft groomers. Because when you go to the Caucasus Mountains you get equally spoiled by fresh snow and freshly groomed slopes! Gudauri Ski Resort offers 3 valleys with lift serviced terrain for off piste skiing/riding. In addition, there are multiple backcountry and ski touring routes if you are willing to take a hike for an hour or two and earn your turns.

PC: @intothewild.bg

PC: Veselin Dochev

On our days off from skiing (2 in total for two weeks), we checked the Russian baths in Gudauri (Tsar Bani) for an authentic experience at the highest steam baths in the world and took a shuttle to the village of Kazbegi to visit Rooms Hotel for its signature view which overlooks Mt Kazbeg and Gergeti Trinity Church from the balcony. Only later did I find that Mt Kazbeg (>5000m = >16000ft) is a dormant volcano, no wonder I fell in love with it at first sight!

In Gudauri I recommend staying at Quadrum Hotel (under $100 for a double room, breakfast with a view included). Brand new and built only with natural materials in simple and modern Scandinavian style, it offers a spa and swimming pool, as well as daily yoga classes to meet all your post-skiing / hiking needs and soothe your sore muscles. There is a bar and restaurant on site as well where you can grab dinner as you’ll be exhausted after a day of skiing and unwilling to look for a place to eat down the road in town at night.

  In Kazbegi Rooms Hotel (over $100 for double room, breakfast with a view included) gets my vote for fantastic design, superb amenities, fusion cuisine and incredible service. You’ll notice there are many cheaper options in Georgia but as with every developing country, you get what you pay for, so be careful how excited you get about a budget room, especially if your budget can accommodate a comfier experience 🙂 Remember to book both hotels well in advance as they usually sell out during the main season.

    Considering my obsession with high mountain passes, Georgia Military Road deserves its own blogpost but I’ll try to give it enough attention here before I return to explore it further in summer. Georgia Military Road is one of ONLY 2 passes that connect Georgia with Russia over the Caucasus Mountains. Being a major road artery, the pass is usually well cleaned after a snow storm (or completely closed during one) and is quite busy with semi truck traffic. The highest point is Cross pass (Jvari Pass) right outside Gudauri Ski Resort at 2379m (7815ft). In winter the road works only in one direction in 2 hr intervals as the “tunnels” (actually avalanche barriers) are too narrow for two trucks to pass at the same time. There is a separate lane for summer that allows two way traffic but it is closed in winter as it is too dangerous to drive on that sliver of asphalt on the cliffside with no barriers and vertical drops at most places.

The never ending “tunnels” between Gudauri and Kazbegi are probably the most freakish roads I have ever passed (and to think I was considering hitchhiking there…) There is no light inside, no road markings or directions, the tunnels curve and are very narrow (remember…one way traffic). If I told you there would be light at the end of the tunnel (literally), would you follow me high up in the Caucasus Mountains in the middle of a snow storm, on windy one-lane roads through pitch-black avalanche barriers? And if you did the reward would be one of the greatest views of Mt Kazbeg you’ve ever seen (and a cocktail in the swanky bar at the posh Rooms Hotel Kazbegi)

    Georgia may seem far and off the beaten path to the weekend traveler, yet there are multiple flights daily from Europe to Tbilisi and Kutaishi. We opted for budget travel and I’m SO glad we did! The bus-shuttle-plane-taxi experience gave our trip such a good and authentic start. Since we were coming from Bulgaria, we took the bus to Turkey (6hrs overnight from Plovdiv to Istambul in the coldest night of the year), schlepped our luggage from the bus station to the airport with a shuttle (which took another 1.5hrs), then jumped on a flight to Tbilisi (2.5hrs of crammed leg space) and finished our trip with a taxi to Gudauri (add 2 more hours where we were so exhausted the taxi driver could have taken us anywhere and I wouldn’t have cared as long as he let me sleep 🙂

  The travel was very oriental and interesting, safe, cheap, and by no means difficult. Culture shock abound for my Western friends every step of the way – squat toilets with no paper at the Bulgarian-Turkish border (yes, we had to cross the border on foot at night in the middle of a rainstorm), perfumed alcohol in the bus to disinfect your hands, having to haggle for your bottled water (because you have to haggle for everything in the Middle East), et all. Since we were coming from a place with no snow and going thru a place with no snow, everyone was really interested in us and where we are going with all this snowboarding gear. Some people had never seen snow, most couldn’t even perceive the idea that we were taking a bus to a shuttle to a plane to a taxi to a winter resort in Georgia almost on the border with Russia.

    To get from Tbilisi to the mountains you have to experience the famous Georgian driving on steep and windy mountain roads. My recommendation is to hold on tight and not look at what the driver is doing…prayer also helps 🙂 You thought Istambul driving was crazy, wait till you see Georgia. If you don’t abide to above rules, you’ll die of heart attack WAY before you actually crash. Locals drive these roads every day, your shuttle driver is well aware of what he is doing, save him your backseat driver speech 🙂

    The capital of Georgia – Tbilisi (aka ТиБилЛиСи in Bulgarian) is also called Tiflis in Turkey where I almost missed my flight not being able to find Tbilisi on the dashboard. And while the US has Facebook and Russia has V Kontakte, Tbilisi has Balcony.ge. People observe and share everything from their balconies 🙂 There is balcony architecture, balcony culture, balcony parties, basically “Welcome to the Land of Balconies!”

    Having covered skiing and travel in Georgia, now onto food and wine! What should you try from the famous Georgian cuisine? Basically everything…more than once – Kachapuri (homemade cheese and egg “pastry”), Khinkali (meat or veggie dumplings), Shashlik (meat skewers), breads, yogurt, cheeses, jams, jellies, soups, pickled veggies, spices!!! Based on the cuisines I had tasted before, I found Georgian dishes to resemble a mix of Armenian, Turkish, Russian, and Eastern European flavors but maybe those countries borrowed their spices and intricate preparations from Georgia, who knows…

    Georgia produces both red and white wines grown in a special viticultural region. The red is served hot and spiced on the slopes – a must for this apres-ski loving gal! Two other beverages to try are cognac and chacha. Georgia produces some of the best cognac in the world, I recommend the 5 or 8 yrs old aged varieties. And don’t forget to buy some as gifts for home! Chacha is the local name for homemade vodka / raki / moonshine. It is made from different fermented fruits. Drinking chacha is a Georgian tradition – don’t you dare refuse a toast – and resembles tequila tasting in Mexico. You will get drunk, for sure!!! The supermarket varieties go up to 55 proof while home-made chacha can be all the way up to 85 proof. I was super lucky to try a 65 proof persimmon homemade chacha aged in oak barrels on the slopes. You bet I brought some home 🙂

Last but definitely not least, I couldn’t get over was how sweet, kind, and hospitable the locals were, everywhere! Georgia is still very real, rural in places and rough around the edges at times, but that just adds to its local charm. Go visit while it is an up and coming destination, affordable and a developing tourist market and not yet full of foreigners and skiers. There is just SO MUCH to see and explore in Georgia, I only went to Gudauri and the Kazbegi Region but I will definitely be back in summer to hike the Caucasus Mountains, visit the wine region and experience the famous Tbilisi nightlife!

Svaneti in Summer – PC: @zermatterhorn

Gudauri Ski Resort, Georgia – A Gem Hidden Deep in the Caucasus Mountains There are places you know you will miss from the first moment you set your eyes on them.

[thislovelylady]

Mermaid AU Headcanons

Lots of details below the cut! Mostly details of how Lenora’s type of mermaid works, but also some anatomy things which include nsfw details. You’ve been warned~!

Two Souls, Two mermaids

First and foremost, even though I drop the Mermaid sub-verse under the Reincarnation verse in general, either soul -- the Goddess or the Mortal -- can be a Mermaid. This adjusts their personalities.

The Goddess!Reincarnated Mermaid is more musically-inclined and Disney-Princess-esque, with her big blue eyes and pink hair and usual goddess personality. She wants to learn about humans and explore the world, but not actually study them. She also never leaves her family behind. She always returns home after her adventures and doesn’t get aggressive no matter what danger she is in. 

The Mortal!AU Mermaid is more motivated by knowledge and wants to actually study humans and collect relics and read things. She has her usual coloring -- olive skin, dark hair, dark eyes -- but no glasses this time around. Lenora’s mother and sister remain home in an underwater kingdom, which she left behind to go out into the world on her own, but visits once a year. This is a bit of a tweak from the usual mortal Lenora, who is often far more reluctant to leave her family. In addition to this, Mortal!AU Mermaid is much more likely to fall prey to her natural monstrous side...

Appearance and Anatomy

Boom! Anatomy of a Mermaid. Thanks, Google. But the important (?) part to focus on is ... GENITALIA, right?! RIGHT?! The best, simplest response I’ve seen is here. And it can be related to the image above and that slit just below that lower midsection!

Lenora’s fin has unique scales -- leptoid scales, to be precise. Now there are two kinds of leptoid scales -- cycloid, which are smooth and round, and ctenoid, which are spiny and sharp and have small teeth along the outer edges. When calm, her scales are of the former variety and of a soft pink color. When in a more monstrous/offensive mood, they shift and become ctenoids and flush a deeper, hot pink shade.

Back to NSFW stuff: her scales are solid and ‘hard’ regardless of their form, but above that slitted area there is a small section of softer scales (about four across, six high roughly) that part to reveal the genitalia underneath when necessary. It’s a very sensitive area -- think of the space along one’s inner thighs. Something like that! So be mindful where you rub your mermaids okay?

Her fin itself is thick and heavy, almost completely muscle, and 1.5 times the size of her torso. So let’s say Lenora’s torso, roughly, is 3′3″ from hip up. Her tail is 5′5″ long, including her fin at the bottom. This tail is more for brute force and strength swimming rather than precision, so although it can loosely wrap around things, it’s not going to coil and strangle someone. It can, however, create hella hardcore waves and smack someone into a wall if necessary. 

Please be aware that the fins are made of a soft membrane material meant to help steer her / help her swim. They're not thin/frail/weak, but they can be torn, and then she’s kinda screwed until she can recover.

Mortal!AU Mermaid, Mortal!AU Aggressive Mermaid, Reincarnate!Mermaid

Aggressive Monster Mermaids

Mermaids are still, to an extent, inhuman creatures of the deep. Though many have evolved past these bestial tendencies -- originally, they were created as servants to an unnamed Ocean Goddess (see below) -- there’s still a core instinct inside all of them that can be tapped into if they are pushed to the edge.

Their skin pales, scales become sharp like knives, eyes become slits, nails turn into claws, teeth become sharper... scary kinda shit. They almost become more like water nagas/lamias in this state, growing especially violent and possessive and vicious, and lurking in the ocean like predators do prey.

The Mermaid Curse

There are all sorts of variants of merfolk, as there are different races in the human species. Lenora in particular, however, descends from a specific sort of tribe of merfolk that was cursed by an ocean goddess.

It’s a pretty familiar ‘legend’ tbh.

The story goes that a foolish little mermaid willingly traded the beautiful voice the ocean goddess gifted her in exchange for the chance to win the love of a human. This was a forbidden betrayal of the goddess’ blessing. So if any mermaid is to allow a human to witness her singing -- even by accident! -- she is bound to their side until the human falls in love with her. Kind of a ‘WELL SHE RUINED IT FOR ALL OF YOU’ sort of deal.

If the human falls for another while the mermaid is bound, however, the mermaid will die a la turning into seafoam. Once the Human does fall in love with her, she is free from the curse completely! And, as reward for not effing it all up, she may then transform into a mermaid and human at will to be with her lover. Her extended lifespan (1000 years), however, will be forfeit no matter what form she takes, and she will age annually no matter how long she has lived. 

Additional Rules

The Mermaid cannot tell the human the details of how to ‘fix’ the curse. They can only say ‘I belong to you now’ -- otherwise that’s guilting the human / potentially influencing their heart, which isn’t allowed. If you try to cheat, you die. Simple. Ocean Goddess is a stickler for rules.

If the Mermaid carves out the human’s heart and eats it, she is forgiven for her mistake and is no longer bound to him. Because he’s dead, but at her hands.

But if he dies for any other reason, her life will also end because now they are bound together. His heart stops, so does hers, kind of thing.

If the human attempts to abandon the mermaid, ditch her, lose her, etc. she will grow very weak as the distance between them grows. Eventually, she will die.

Once she belongs to a human, the Mermaid’s songs can only be heard by him. To everyone else, it will simply look like her mouth is moving but no noise coming out. This will change when the curse is broken.

The closer they become, the stronger an empathic bond the two will have. It will grow easier for them to understand each other and sense each other’s emotions. This will help the Mermaid determine how close the human is to loving her -- or another.

What is the definition of ‘falling in love’  for this curse? It has to be developed over time, tested and tried, and utterly unconditional. The rough part is that this could take years, and if the human’s heart is won by another in that time -- which isn’t impossible to do, considering the many issues there are between interspecies relationships and the deck already stacked against them -- it’s over.

Other Mermaid Myths/Facts

Do mermaids lead sailors to their doom? I mean, they can, but it isn’t their life purpose. Those are their cousins the sirens. They’re terrible.

Do mermaids have any magic? Their voices are enchanting and can help them get what they want, but it’s not so much magic as it is sex appeal and charisma and charm. Nothing really beyond that. They are magic more than they can perform magic, if that makes any sense.

Can eating a mermaid’s flesh grant you immortality? Jury is still out on this one. It’s definitely a popular theory, though, so don’t be surprised if poor Lenora is trying to escape some crazy people wanting to eat her someday.

Can mermaids talk to fish? No that’s stupid. They can communicate with them about as well as you can communicate with a domestic dog, but no there’s not chatter going on.

Do mermaids get offended if you eat fish? No, they eat fish. Just because they share a butt doesn’t mean they’re family. Get real. Just don’t try to eat mermaids!

Do mermaids have live babies or lay eggs? Live babies like whales do.

How do merfolk procreate? Mermaids have slits. Mermen have penises hidden under their scales to go into those slits (it’s like really protective under those scales, man). You do the math.

When she’s human does walking like she’s always on knives? No that would suck.

Do mermaids bring bad luck or ill-fortune? Only if she broke a mirror recently I guess

Do mermaids have an affinity for mirrors or combing their hair? Doesn’t every girl??? Especially if you get sea water in it all the time shit I’d brush my hair a lot too otherwise you look crappy right

More may be added but this is all my mermaid stuff for now~!

[easyfoodnetwork]

Shutterstock/Kondor83 Restaurant employees from Kentucky, North Dakota, New York, Oregon, and Minnesota share their stories Last week, President Trump formed the Economic Revival Industry Group, a collection of 200 experts and industry leaders to inform the (possibly ill-advised) campaign to re-open the economy. The group, focused on restaurants, included numerous chain CEOs and celebrity chef-owners like Wolfgang Puck and Thomas Keller. And though the latter could hardly be expected to advocate for the needs of restaurant owners whose restaurants don’t have Michelin stars, there is another group notably absent from the committee: restaurant workers. Independent restaurant owners are struggling with the realities and uncertainties of life in a pandemic, whether it’s having to lay off employees or trying to keep people paid as the business pivots to take-out only. But for your average food service worker — servers, bartenders, line cooks, and baristas — there is even less support. Restaurant employees made up 60 percent of the jobs lost in March. Twenty-two million people filed for unemployment in the past four weeks, leaving unemployment websites overwhelmed. The Paycheck Protection Program, which offers federal loans in exchange for keeping employees on payroll, is out of money. All this adds up to millions of food service workers being left without a paycheck. Despite Trump’s plans, no one knows what the restaurant industry is going to look like on the other side of the pandemic. And so workers wait, hoping their restaurants will reopen, hoping they or their coworkers will be rehired, hoping there will be a workplace to come back to. As chains and fine-dining chefs are the only ones with access to the White House, it’s important to remember their experiences do not represent the restaurant industry as a whole. Whether or not restaurant workers, not merely restaurateurs, feel supported will be the true test of any government program’s success. With that in mind, we spoke to five restaurant workers across the country on what they’re experiencing right now. These are stories in their own words, edited lightly for clarity. Gregg Adams, line cook at J Harrods, Louisville, Kentucky The chef and I are the only kitchen staff left of four full-time and two part-timers. He takes a salary, I am on reduced hours, which means less money to repair the house and cars, much less save anything. Since this began we have been steadily losing customers. Our food isn’t geared for takeout, though we changed the menu some. Also, we made a lot of our money through drinks. Initially, the state only allowed the sale of closed alcohol containers, and some restaurants started selling flight bottles and half pints with soda or cup mixer on the side. Within a week, open alcohol sales were allowed rather than just packaged liquor, but it was too late for those who followed the rules. I’m hanging in there, but I’m lucky. Not much has changed for me and my family. My wife is on medical disability with fixed income and doesn’t leave the house much. My teenager already practiced social distancing. My 26-year-old is working 60 hours a week at a local coffee chain. My 25-year-old works for UPS. I’m blessed to have employment. I know three other cooks and two chefs who are unemployed. But I can’t plan anything for anything now. I’m wondering about my concert tickets and my child’s education if my older children will get sick, and what my options are in general. I’m trying to not panic. Massoud Violette-Sheikh, sous chef at the Heights, Ithaca, New York I am 23 years old and have been working in the industry for five years, starting as a dishwasher at the Heights. My start in the industry was mainly out of necessity — dishwashing offered good hours and the possibility of upward mobility in the restaurant. But the work ethic and our local food community was contagious; I wouldn’t want to be in any other industry, even in these times. I rose to sous this past year. In an area where we are financially dependent on Ithaca College and Cornell as our main contributors to economic stimulation, this has train-wrecked the local economy. At the Heights, all staff with the exception of our chef de cuisine have been temporarily let go. I think the post-pandemic dining landscape is going to be entirely different — staff cuts, wage cuts, and mandatory seating reduction will absolutely affect how we are able to eat. Even the most luxurious restaurants will have to cut back on menus, garnishes, and available reservations. I’m hopeful that diners will come out in droves after restaurants open up, but realistically that’s not likely. The social habits that we develop will linger. I spend a lot of time talking with my close friends and coworkers. Everyone just wants to be back in the kitchen — to be back home. As an individual I’m grateful for private grants such as the Restaurant Employee Relief Fund — programs like that are going to be our saviors. But our primary concern is how long our local independent restaurants, farms, and purveyors will be able to stay open. The debt to equity ratio in our industry is very high, and I expect to see places sink into irreversible debt. I hope customers will be patient as we get back on our feet; without their support, all that will be left is Chili’s and McDonald’s. Marlena Chaboudy, cook at A Frame Bar & Grill, Westhope, North Dakota Busy season is the beginning of spring through the end of summer. We are situated on Lake Metigoshe, and when the snow melts people start moving in their boats and readying their docks to enjoy their summer. We were all gearing up for that when the spread of the virus hit hard and hours were cut. Our place was then shut down for dine-in service and we tried to stay positive. I found out the secret was really not to make eye contact, because if I saw one of us start to tear up, it opened the floodgates for me. I’m behind in rent, my vehicle is in need of a few repairs. I had planned on moving closer to work — I live about 40 miles away — and found a place, but will have to come by money for the utility and house deposits and rent in order to do so. My fiancé and I live together, and he also works at the A-Frame as a dishwasher. He has filed for unemployment but has a limited work history and hasn’t paid in enough in the quarters to draw unemployment. And he won’t get the one-sum stimulus check either, and that’s going to hurt. Living in a rural community, you can’t count on anything for relief. You can’t count on the small town store to get a delivery truck, or go to the store the same day and be able to buy a roll of toilet paper or a dozen eggs. I can’t guarantee that my internet will be functional much less my phone service, and trying to even access the unemployment website can take all day. You go to the gas station for a treat and you never know if they are open because if they haven’t had enough business that day to justify keeping the lights on, or paying an employee to sit there, they close early. I don’t think the aid the government is giving is enough. Not at all! It’s getting bad everywhere. The people in the foodservice industry are the “blue collar” workers that everyone forgets about. We are not paid as much as the blue collar norm and making ends meet isn’t looking possible for most. Rae Bullinger, former front of house at Rise Bagels, Minneapolis We closed our dining room around March 16th, but kept our online and takeout phone ordering systems the same. After closing the dining room, it was fairly slow that first week, but we kept advertising the online and pick-up ordering and by the weekend our system just couldn’t keep up. On my weekend shift, we were so overwhelmed with online orders overnight that we actually had to turn the first customers away, because we were still trying to catch up with the online orders. The next day is when the owners decided to temporarily close. Before coronavirus, we had a good sense of how many bagels we needed each day of the week to fill our normal amount of orders. Once we started advertising more about online and phone ordering mid-March, our demand shifted to a point we couldn’t have predicted. Before I started my job at Rise Bagel, I was a graduate student in the psychology field. I had to take a leave of absence in October due to an inpatient stay for my mental health, and decided to put school on pause and pursue a new career in food sustainability. I thought getting my foot in the door at a local restaurant that focuses on local, organic ingredients and sustainable practices would provide me with some great insight. The job finally gave me a sense of purpose and control when I hadn’t had that in a long time. However, when we suddenly had to close, it was like my sense of purpose also disappeared. My job was the one thing that kept me feeling certain about my future. Uncertainty about my future at Rise has led to an increase in my anxiety around leaving school and my future career. I have many fears of having to start all over again, and it’s hard to stay motivated when I can’t gain restaurant experience from my home. Here in Minnesota, individual unemployment benefits are only given if you had made $3,000 or more before unemployment. Because I was in graduate school and had only been at my job at Rise for a few months, I did not meet this requirement and will not be receiving any unemployment benefits. For those making minimum wage (aka many of those in the food service industry), prerequisites like this may have some major impacts. I’m incredibly thankful to be living at home during this time with great support, but I couldn’t imagine being in a more dire situation and then denied benefits based on something I may not have had control over. I’m really glad something is being done for small business owners, but what really matters is what happens after this. A restaurant will only survive if better legislation is passed and people continue to visit even after social distancing orders are lifted. The attention and support food service employees and places are getting right now is amazing, but systematic change needs to occur for them to continue to survive. Ashton Long, bartender, Portland, Oregon We were all in an especially odd situation because we had just all been through training and had opened the restaurant, Bar King, to the public Monday, March 9th. Our restaurant closed down to the public on March 15th and began only providing takeout orders. Luckily, right now it is looking like we’ll be opening back up and all have our jobs back, but when? I don’t think anyone has even a clue. And that is terrifying. My partner and I moved here in early January of this year. Luckily, he works from home, but I set out to find a job as soon as I got here, and even with my experience and my resume, it took me nearly two months to find something because of how competitive the service industry staffing is in Portland. I exhausted nearly all of my savings and threw all of my faith into the fact that I’d find a job when I got here, and then I worked for literally two weeks and then lost my job. I don’t remember a time in my life where I didn’t have two jobs and work anywhere from 40 to 70 hours a week, so having this much free time, and on such an incredibly STRICT budget of one income, has been extremely challenging to fill. While I think the stimulus money is great, and quite literally a life saver for many — including me — unemployment has been a literal shit show and a nightmare to deal with. I still have yet to see any benefits or correspondence from either Michigan or Oregon to figure out what I need to do in this situation where I lived and worked in Michigan last year and Oregon now. While I do understand that having 2.2 MILLION people sign up for unemployment in the last month is overwhelming, if it weren’t for the stimulus check and my partner, I could very well be on my way back to Michigan right now to live with family. And as a 25-year-old who has never had to consider an option like that because I’ve always had work and savings, that is a horrifying and scary scenario. If you’re a food service worker, Eater wants to hear your story. Please fill out this survey. from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3cz9Lic

http://easyfoodnetwork.blogspot.com/2020/04/dispatches-from-food-service-workers.html