#hes like but how will i heat up my microwave meals now?? in an oven?

[hannibal-is-my-comfort-show]

I love how we collectively agreed Hannibal does not and will not own a microwave

[olsenmyolsen]

softly dusting crumbs from their cheeks when eating

R doing that to Kate after Kate's demolished the plate of cookies that R baked for her.

Chocolate Chip Cookies!

maroon master list . dark master list . request marvel master list . short n’ sweet master list

Post: Hawkeye / The Marvels (Female Reader X Kate Bishop)

Summary: You and Kate talk while baking.

Word Count: 1.4K

Content: Fluff, Comfort, Feelings

Being the only one on the new team to use the kitchen properly had pros and cons.

Pro: You could make whatever you wanted.

Con: You had to do the dishes after you made your fabulous meals and desserts.

Pro: It made everyone like and appreciate you more!

Con: People then loved to "subtly" drop hints about what they wanted you to make.

Regardless, you still loved to bake and be one with the kitchen, as America Chavez loved to point out!

"Whatcha making?" Kamala asked as she wandered through the kitchen in her pajamas without even looking up from her phone. You glanced up at the sound of her voice before looking at the clock on the microwave, confused. It was 4:13 pm.

Had she crashed at the YA Building??

You tilted your head and continued placing chocolate chip cookie dough balls onto a tray as the oven preheated. "Kamala, did you go to class today?" You asked, knowing how much being the hero of New Jersey affected Kamala's college studies. "Dude, it's Saturday," Kamala said without lifting her eyes from her phone.

You couldn't tell if she was playing a game or texting Bruno about how she needed him to hack into something or other. Either way, you shook your head. "Kamala, it's Friday." You knew precisely what day it was because... Oh man, what was the saying in Germany?

It's Strawberry Week.

Kamla lifted her head. "What?!" She said, eyeing you before looking at her phone. Her mouth dropped open as she scrambled up off the couch. "Oh my god!" She yelled. "I have a paper to turn in!"

And just like that, Kamala was gone.

"Okay." You said to yourself as you removed your gloves and threw them away before moving some dirty dishes into the sink to wash later.

"Oh, cool cookie dough!" The voice of your friend America startled you and made you jump. "Oh fuck!" You yelled as you caught your breath and swung around to view America with her eyes above the remaining cookie dough.

"Can I have?" She only used those three words to ask. You shook your head. "No, America, you'll get sick!" You replied, knowing how America loves to eat.

Dimensional jumping was tiring and made her a bottomless pit.

"Oh, come on, just one lick of the spoon?!" Your friend whined as she followed you to the sink with the bowl of the leftover cookie dough. You sighed. The younger woman would just pester you anyway. "Fine. Just one." You gave her the spoon, and before you could say anything else, she opened a portal and was gone.

You could hear a pin drop.

"That was my favorite wooden spoon..." You whispered as you were now alone in the kitchen. Luckily, the oven had your back and broke you out of your solemn thoughts by beeping to let you know it was now fully heated for cookies. Slowly, you walked over to the tray of cookies and popped them into the oven.

"Okay, we'll check them in about 12 minutes." You said as you spoke to yourself after setting an alarm on your phone and then opening Spotify. Being left alone with your thoughts for too long was hazardous, so why not listen to your favorites while washing some dishes?

About halfway through singing and swaying to a certain pop star's lyrics, you heard the sounds of a golden retriever. You looked up and over in surprise to see Lucky as he barreled towards you. "Pizza Dog!" You shouted with glee as you threw off the soapy gloves and bent down to get kissed attack by the canine after stopping your music.

However, as much as you loved Lucky, you would have to say his owner tops that.

She could top you, too, but that would require being vocal and honest about your crush on Kate Bishop.

So you'll settle for dog kisses.

"Pizza Dog!" Kate exclaimed as she ran into the kitchen from around the corner, dropping her bow and quiver of arrows in the hallway. "Kate, he's fine!" You reassure your friend and fellow teammate as she runs to where you and her pet are on the hardwood floor.

She squats beside you and laughs as Lucky doesn't stop showing you how happy he is to see you.

"Dman, I don't even think I get this much love." You laugh at Kate's claim. "Please, I think he smells the cookie dough on me." Kate makes an "ah" sound and rises up to look at the pile of dishes you were working on. You follow her up.

"Where's your cookie spoon?" Kate asks after seeing it missing. You sighed. "With America. She did her portal thing, so who knows where she and the spoon are." Kate nodded her head and did her best not to let the smile creep on her face.

But she failed as she looked at you.

You and Kate both knew getting sad over a wooden spoon was silly, but seeing how glum you were about it made Kate want to laugh.

Coming from a good place, of course.

"Well, do you need any help?" Kate asked as she went to wash her hands. You shook your head. "No. I got it taken care of." You lifted up your phone. "Thank you, though." You smiled at Kate and averted your eyes before you were caught staring at her striking beauty.

Thank goodness she didn't have any bandages on her face.

Those made you borderline feral.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to be a taste tester," Kate said, bumping shoulders with you after looking you up and down. You started washing your hands and laughed with a slight blush on your cheeks. "Fine by me."

Any reason to be with Kate was good enough for you.

"So, what was your latest mission?" You asked as Pizza Dog went off into another room, and Kate sat at the kitchen bar. Kate looked over your face and smiled as she thought about it. "Stakeout. I was watching some wannabe mafia group. It was boring. I spent most of my time doodling."

"Oh, I have to see those pieces of art!" You said it as a joke, but deep down, you were dead serious. Kate laughed and made a note to show you sometime in the future while she started to play with her fingers. Kate tried to play it cool, but being around you made her nervous. Not because you were scary or anything but because Kate liked you.

Like really liked you!

"So, which cookies did you make today?" Kate said as you finished the dirty dishes and washed your hands. "Chocolate Chip." You replied with a smile back at the archer.

Chocolate Chips weren't Kate's favorite, yet she said: "My favorite!" and lifted her cheeks as you looked happy.

Over the course of the next few minutes, you and Kate talked about anything that came to your mind. Whether it was TikTok trends, gossip about the Old Avengers, or what to do with the upcoming holidays.

Whether you would go with Kate or not to the Barton's farm.

The answer was still in the air as silence surrounded you two until Kate broke it by looking you up and down as you glanced at your phone. "Hey..." Kate started after clearing her throat. You looked towards her. Kate took that as a sign to continue. "So I've been thinking..." Kate's voice wavered as she did her best to be brave. "And I don't know if this is dumb or if I maybe have read it wrong, but..."

You were fully engaged in whatever Kate had to say, but your 12-minute timer for the cookies went off, interrupting Kate. You gave Kate an apologetic smile, who nodded that it was okay as you turned to the oven and pulled out the tray of cookies with your bare hands.

It helped that one of your powers was no pain.

You looked the cookies over and ensured they were baked enough to cool down. When satisfied, you turned off the oven and went back to Kate.

"So you were saying?" You smiled and gave her your full attention. Kate blushed and opened her mouth.

Chocolate Chip cookies ended up being Kate's favorite after that day.

And you couldn't help but laugh at your girlfriend's face as you softly brushed her cheeks after she demolished the plate of cookies you made.

They were for everybody, but after that day, Kate got the first pick for everything.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[sophiasharp]

Man I don’t think we talk enough about the fact that in the wildly accepted fanon, the ghouls were like. Creatures pulled out of a primitive society full of bloodshed and danger. These guys were just chilling in hell, fighting for their lives every day like you do, and now they’re on Earth, expected to figure out Earth manners and technology and how the fuck anything works. I’ve been thinking about it, though. Let me walk you through my thoughts

THE GHOULS TRANSITIONING TO LIFE ON EARTH

Aether

- Bull in a China shop

- Big man has gotten very good at controlling his strength over the years. That control was NOT there at first.

- Bumped into fucking everything too. Dude’s used to being in the wide open abyss the quintessence ghouls occupy. Suddenly having to learn special awareness was. A hurdle of his.

- He broke a lot of tables. And chairs. And plates. Mugs. One Sibling’s arm. He got there eventually but Omega had to walk him through how fragile everything on Earth is compared to their ghoulish strength.

- Part of his habit of jumping up and down also comes from how different Earth is to his home environment. You mean you can go up and then you’ll come down again? Automatically? What a concept! Gravity is so much fun!

- Still gets some sense of novelty out of electric lighting. Being able to just. Make the dark go away? Whenever? Amazing.

- He keeps a night light on in his room. The last person to make fun of him for it mysteriously ended up with 3rd degree burns.

Dewdrop:

- Skittish little fucker

- Kinda like that one video of those weird crabs reacting to the diver

- Dew, poking at a toaster: Friend? Friend? Friend? Big noise! Scared! Scared! Scared! Scared! … Friend? Friend?

- Fucking LOVED blankets and coats and jackets and robes and honestly just anything that will keep him warm. He was used to the cold, sure, but if he had a choice between that and being cuddled under 5 different comforters, possibly with another ghoul for extra body heat? It wasn’t even a competition.

- Still had to often be reminded to wear clothes. “We’re in a hellish commune, does anyone really care about one ghoul being naked?” “It’s not so much the nakedness as much as the being out and about without your uniform.”

- Warm food blew his Fucking mind. Coming from the frigid arctic, whatever warmth you’d get from your food’s internal temperature was short lived. Microwaves? Ovens? Tea Kettles? Marvelous. Truly a gift from the Dark One

- Got REALLY into cooking. Dude is a wizard in the kitchen. Watched so many kitchen shows once he figured out how TV’s worked and started replicating the really fancy meals they were creating on screen with whatever he could find around the Abbey and what the kitchen staff were willing to give him. Now, whenever there’s a big occasion, he’s the one asked to oversee the food.

Mountain:

- weirdly calm and placid about everything despite not knowing how literally anything worked.

- Just casually curious about everything. Was always asking questions. Not in an annoying way, but just politely inquisitive.

- There was like a 50/50 chance he was actually listening to you at any given point in time. I mean, there are so many new sights, sounds, smells to experience! Can’t expect him to be 100% there when there’s still so much new splendor all around!

- If ever he was confronted with something new but no one was around to explain what it was, he would instead try to just. Figure it out on his own using his best judgement.

- This is how he once ended up straight up eating someone’s phone. This was very early on, mind you, but it was so smooth and shiny! And the precious metals inside were so tasty! He knows better now, of course. But there are some days where he’s tempted to give his ministry-issued smartphone a nibble…

- Figured out his love of gardening pretty damn fast considering that’s what he was originally summoned for. However, aside from tending to Primo’s garden, he found himself still going out to tend to the plants even in his free time. It’s calming to him, reminds him of home. When things get overwhelming, the plants are there to let him channel his worry into something producing.

- His first personal plant was a small pot of rosemary. He kept it in the window of his room and took *such* good care of it. It’s still there to this day, nestled among the other plants he’s accumulated of the years.

Swiss

- he is so excited about everything!!!!

- He has to be touching all the new things all the time! What does it do? How is it made?? Can he eat it??? A lot of things that were small enough went straight into his mouth. Copia needed to keep a spray bottle on him at all times to make sure he didn’t hurt himself.

- Of course, when he was around the other ghouls, he played it cool. Have to make a good impression on his new (and hopefully permanent) packmates after all. He reeeaaaally didn’t want get sent back to the pit so getting in good with the rest of the band was TOP priority!

- In fact that need to be liked was bordering on unhealthy and sort of sabotaged himself a bit. Acting all suave and cocksure when the entire rest of the band was on high alert does that.

- Most of the ghouls regarded him with a hefty amount of distrust at first- being the first summon of the new boss came with a LOT of baggage -but Cumulus saw straight through him. He was just a silly little guy! She became his first real friend amongst the pack.

- The two became menaces together, exploring the abbey and messing with shit they probably shouldn’t have. Primo’s garden was a favorite of theirs, much to Mountain’s chagrin.

- Was just SOOOO fascinated by this new body he’s been put in. Unlike most the other ghouls, he didn’t have a physical body he inhabited back in hell, only being given one when he was summoned to the surface. Flesh! If feels funny! What does this thing down here do-

Cumulus:

- was honestly kinda scared at first, what with the whole mood of the pack being out of wack.

- Apparently their new boss might have killed someone? That’s the guy that summoned them? Uh oh!

- Stayed glued to Cirrus in the beginning. Being summoned together meant having a strong built-in bond with each other, always having access to what the other is feeling. Being together offered a much-needed sense of comfort to Cumulus. Getting to spend time with a really pretty girl wasn’t bad either.

- Swiss was the one to bring her out of her shell, imbuing her with confidence through his own fake bravado. They came to rely on each other in that sense. When Cumulus was scared to do the things she wanted, Swiss would convince her of her capability. When Swiss was anxious and felt like a fraud, Cumulus would remind him of his sincerity.

- Was very curious about how her magic worked on the surface versus how it did in the pit. Back home, she was used to having to beat against the constant winds of the first layer of hell. Now that she’s on Earth, her powers are much more powerful than she ever expected them to be!

- LOVED textiles. She surrounded herself in all things soft and fluffy. Her bedroom (and most nights Cirrus’s as well) is just so Fucking cozy. Blankets and pillows everywhere. Her stuffed animal collection is unmatched. Will cry if even one of them ends up on the floor.

- Dew was the one to help her start her collection. To this day they are each other’s #1 cuddle buddies.

Cirrus:

- Stone cold badass front to hide how nervous she was.

- VERY protective of Cumulus in the beginning. She could feel how scared she was and felt the need to step up and protect the both of them from any threat this new environment may have… even if the perceived threat is a bit stupid.

- She once kicked in the washing machine cause it made a sound once it was done and it startled her. Not her proudest moment.

- Was almost OVERPROTECTIVE of Cumulus at first, even, doing even the simplest of tasks for her to prevent risk of injury. That was until she watched her kick a sibling straight in the nuts for making snide remarks about Cirrus in front of her. Cirrus had never fallen in love faster.

- Took a LONG while to warm up to the others. Constantly felt like she had something to prove, like she needed to show that she wouldn’t buckle under pressure. Everyone (but Cumulus) was a threat.

- Adores weather on Earth and how it isn’t just WIND 24/7. She loves all the different shapes of the clouds, how dark they get with moisture, the gentle snowfall or the needle-like rain. Really puts her at peace to be out on a rainy day

Rain:

- S C A R E D

- Everything is new and bright and cold and heavy and loud and- and- and-

- Yeah he barely left his room for a week, didn’t talk to anyone for anything. Not shy, necessarily, but just freaked the fuck OUT. They were starting to think he was nonverbal cause man refused to use his voice. In his defense, talking outside the water feels very different when you’re used to your vocal cords wiggling in water all your life.

- In my brain the first time he did speak was to Copia after he did his lil oopsie with the rest of the pack. It’s like a day later and Copia’s tryna plan how he’s gonna make it up to the ghouls when rain cornered him in a dark hallway, made direct eye contact, and in the softest voice went “I wouldn’t go near the lake if I were you. It’s hard to hear screaming underwater.” He then left a completely stunned and freaked tf out Copia standing alone in the hall like it never happened.

- He kinda regrets letting his first words on Earth be a threat now but the rest of the pack is flattered, although they do still sometimes tease him for it.

- Really started coming out of his shell when Dew made dinner for him. Dew was in the same shoes as him once and, although his relationship with the new water ghoul was complicated, he still felt obligated to help his new packmate adjust to life on Earth.

- Bro went through the trouble of showing Rain what every little thing in the kitchen did so he wouldn’t be scared to make his own food anymore, all while making him some grade A gourmet dining. Dew didn’t know it at the time but that’s when the heart-eyes started.

[gryptids]

end of the year asks!!!! 2, 9, 18, and 25 :]

2. Album of the year? Interpreting this two different ways! My fav album that came out this year is jazz is for ordinary people by berlioz (technically an EP but IDC), and my fav album that I listened to this year is Dummy by Portishead :]

9. Best month for you this year? I think November! I got in touch more with myself, grew my self confidence, and started taking writing classes that really sparked my creativity. I worked on a variety of creative projects that were really self-indulgent and fulfilling, and also had a lot of fun socializing with friends and family. It felt very balanced!

18. A memorable meal this year? I perfected my steak cooking technique this year!! Now I know how to make really delicious and simple steaks at home, and YOU CAN TOO!!

Gryptid's Foolproof And Depression-Friendly Steak Recipe: 1. Take your steak out of the fridge and get it to room temperature. This is important for the cooking step so you don't overcook the outside bits trying to get it to heat up. You want it to be room-room temperature before you start the next step. 2. Heat your pan up and throw a generous pat of butter in there. Do NOT skimp with the quality of the butter. I prefer Kerrygold, but any fancy butter will do. In the meantime, pat your steak dry and season all sides with salt & pepper. (You could get fancier with this if you wanted, but often salt & pepper are all you need.) 3. Throw your steak in the pan and spoon the butter over it as it cooks. I prefer my steak rare and usually cook it ~2 minutes on each side, depending on how big it is. You can touch the center of the steak and judge its done-ness by how springy/tender it is. 4. Once your steak is to your preferred done-ness, take it off the heat and let it rest for 5 minutes. This is a great time to make some instant mashed potatoes if you have the energy/desire. 5. Enjoy your incredibly delicious, super easy steak! Save any extra butter by storing it in a heat-safe vessel in the fridge - it's super yummy, and I often use it for buttered bread, pasta, and more! BONUS: If you have leftover steak, don't reheat it in the microwave! Instead, preheat your oven to around 250 degrees and throw your leftovers in a foil-covered oven-safe vessel for 20-30 minutes, checking periodically to make sure it doesn't overcook :) They make delicious additions to scrambled eggs, burritos, and your favorite rice dish.

25. Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one. Off the top of my head, my fav from *this year* (cuz most of my blorbos were created in years past) is the noir baddie Juliet I made for a City of Mist game. She killed a creepy director when he tried to steal her magical voice to open up the heavens and then acquired like. Four different boyfriends/girlfriends while trying to solve a mystery. She's incredibly dramatic and flirtatious but also WILL shoot you to death with her magical gun made from pure sound. My silly rabbit <3

Thank u for askin' !!!!! I feel like this year was tough in a lot of ways, but rewarding, too. On to the next!

[maganne-bonete]

To where I need you

Summary: With only instructions left by her mom, Candy needs Pacifica's help to figure this out after the last time she tried making something in the kitchen

Pairing: Candy x Pacifica | Candifica

Word count: 1,266

“This way! To where I need your help.”

Candy faintly pulls her girlfriend in fake sense of struggle. Her mom already left instructions for her but she feels like too much fate was given to her to not burn the kitchen down. Her mom knows that the only thing she knows how to make other than rice was microwaved food and instant noodles. She wished that her mom could’ve just made them beforehand like the other meals on the fridge so she could just heat it in the oven. But instead, she trusted her with instructions for yachaejeon on a notepad before heading off with her dad for a seminar in Portland.

“Hang on, hang on, let me drop these off first. Besides, where’s my kiss?”

“Ah, right! Sorry.” She gave a quick kiss on the lips and even tried taking one of the boxes from her. “Oh wait, these are pretty heavy! What are in these pies?” she says with a bit of raspiness for exaggeration. They weren’t really that heavy but the weight was surprising for her who doesn’t regularly lift stacks of pies.  

“Oh dear, did somebody say pies? I hope they’re Susan’s apple pies!” A voice could be heard from the hallway from the livingroom, it’s Gideon’s.

“Well, where else would it be from Gids? Paz literally works there,” Dipper called back to where Gideon was with a tinge of sarcasm in his tone. He made his way to where the girls were to help them, taking the boxes that Candy took from Paz. “Anyway, you girls should get to those pancakes. Mabel meant it when she said she wouldn’t start a single episode without those and Gid’s is getting cranky from waiting. Wendy’s running out of ideas to distract him.”

“Shouldn’t he have a phone to distract himself with?” Paz sounded like she was rolling her eyes from asking that question.

“He broke his phone in the park earlier. I mean, the stunt was Wendy’s idea and he agreed to it.” Dipper shrugged.

Now making their way near the livingroom. Dipper makes a turn to the rest of their friends to give them the stacks of pies. He waves at her to make a go ahead, while the others make a passing acknowledgement of Paz’s arrival to the house.

Candy, being ahead from them, was already rummaging through the kitchen and fridge. She was following the list her mom left her. Green onions, zucchini, green chili peppers, sweet potatoes?

“Where does she keep the potatoes again?” she mutters to herself. She started shuffling aimlessly around the kitchen. Trying to figure out where is where, she started getting distracted by putting out the bowls and pans from where they were.

“Are these all of it?” she got broken from her train of thoughts by Paz who was putting on her apron. She took it with her when she stopped by the diner. Most of the stuff she uses for her job are typically either at Susan’s place or in the employees’ room at Greasy’s. She couldn’t keep that at her house ‘cause her mom might end up burning them again. Something Priscilla did around the first year of her job.

“Ah, no. I forgot the sweet potatoes. I think they’re over at the back near where the kimchi fridge is.”

“The back?”

“Yeah, where the other root vegetable things are. Or at the pantry where the she keeps the mushrooms and garlic, I’m not sure.”

“Okay then, I think the recipe’s already tripled by the looks of it.” Pacifica took the notepad that Candy was looking through from earlier. “Your mom did knew who were coming over.”

“Yeah, it seems my mom has faith in me to not to destroy this place.”

“Hey, we’re weirdos and maybe a menace to society but we don’t destroy people’s houses you know.” Paz raised an eyebrow looking up from the note, her hands playfully on her hips as if she took actual offense in that.

“Noooo, that’s not what I meant.” Candy puts the pan on the stove and starts turning on the burner. “I just really think my mom trust me too much with the kitchen, especially after what happened last February.” She puts oil on the pan before realizing that they haven’t even cut the vegetables to begin with. She looks at the greens left untouched on the counter then back at her girlfriend.

Pacifica laughs a bit before making it to her to turn the stove off. “Come on, you’re not a disaster or anything.”   

“You’ve seen my failed attempt at valentine’s day.” Candy tried making her cookies earlier that year. It ended with her destroying an oven tray with a couple of chard and stone hard cookies. There were a few that were salvageable but Paz still decided to eat all of them anyway even with how bitter and difficult some were.

“Alright, alright, but I would’ve made the same thing like 4 years ago, you know,” Pacifica says as she starts taking the vegetables near to the sink. She took out a colander hanging at a rack and placed all the greens inside. She starts rinsing them thoroughly from the tap before leaving them to dry.

“I know.”

“Hey, I believe in you like you believed in me.” A part of her wants Candy to remember what it was like for them back in those days where she was still the brat who’d bully their friends. But all the same it urks her to even think about her old self. She’s better now, and that’s what she hopes she is.

“You are so dramatic,” Candy laughed. “I guess this is my character arc then.”

“Sure, sure, now help me find where your mom keeps those sweet potatoes. We’d still need to peel them.” Pacifica turns to the back door of the house to look for what they needed.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, and remember to put this on too.” Pacifica passed Candy an apron hanging by the kitchen door.

“Oh, right.”

The two spent the next hour making the actual thing. It took a while for them to finally have everything ready to hit the pan. Paz was being patient with letting Candy chop the vegetables. She insisted on doing it, wanting to have more things to do on the whole endeavor.

Their impatient friends however were constantly snooping on them on whether they were ready or not, Mabel specially. Mabel was quick to grab the first one done without thinking that it was fresh out of the pan. Paz ended up having to scold her for it and decided that everybody’s banned from the kitchen until they were all done.

When everything was settled, they finally let everybody in to have their own servings. Wendy, Dipper, and Gideon decided to have theirs with a bowl of rice while sprinkling the sauce over their bowl. Mabel and Grenda meanwhile just wanted theirs straight with stacks on their plate. Candy had the sauce put in an easy squeeze bottle to be passed around while they were watching.

They had a good time.

Candy actually enjoyed spending time with Paz that way. It could be clear why her mom decided to leave her with the whole thing instead of all the other pre-cooked stuff she left on the fridge, even with the disaster did left February. Maybe her mom sees something in Paz that’s also good for her? Or is that she just ships them? Either one. She’d be happy to tell her that it was a success with the two of them.

Another thing, if people are wondering about their age and the entire timeline of the events, Pacifica here is 17 since I hc her birthday around February. She started working at Greasy's a couple of months after the show's canon.

A/N: Thank you for reading! This was the first fic I ever published online I hope you all liked it. I typically get very conscious over my writing that I either never finish or never post them. I'm willing to change that in the future starting with this one.

But please give me feed back if there's something that needs to be changed or any criticism at all.

Meanwhile Candy's 15 turning 16 as I hc her birthday's around mid-autumn. They got together around Paz's sophomore year/Candy's freshman year around winter break and have been friends for a long time as the rest of the crew are.

Also it's actually canon that Candy's a year younger than the Pines twins. Fun fact!

So the Pines here, as a point of reference, are supposed to be 16 turning 17 by the end of the summer.

[santiagoxflores]

“Well, I think their logic was that I wasn’t a good cook before the incident and I probably won’t be a good one now. Honestly, I am not sure.  Not a big deal I guess, I have those meals you can heat up in the oven or microwave.”  Santiago responded.  “I’ve heard good things, he is the alpha of The Pack.  I mean word gets around in a small community and plus my cousin is head of a coven.  I think they all know each other,” he shrugged.  Really, he wasn’t sure about the politics amongst higher ups in each group of species.

At times, Santiago could just jabber away and share all about his life.  The man was an open book even to the point of letting people know more about him than they cared.  “I mean, it has been difficult.  I am having to re-learn Spanish to understand what my family says at gatherings.  But I have been very lucky to have a support system.  And even though it sucks, I  just have to keep moving forward.  Can’t keep dwelling on it.”  He shrugged.  “Um, I am not sure.  I know there are sirens who don’t know how they became sirens, but they still have their other memories.”

Santiago was gently washing her hair, wanting to make her comfortable and take care of her.  “Yeah, I think most people here are nice.  I mean like anywhere you might find a few jerks.  But overall, I think most people genuinely are kind to each other.  That’s good.  Oh, is there something you want to do?”  He questioned as he started to rinse out everything in her hair.  “I think I want to do a treatment and leave it in your hair for a bit before we rinse it out and start cutting.  Is that okay?”

"They haven't taught you to cook?" she asked. It seemed strange to her. But her father had taught her to bake. It was one of the few things he had been able to teach her before she had lost him. She'd seen enough families to know that they were all different. A smile graced her features when she said, "He's a good guy. Which might've been obvious from gave me a job."

She listened as he talked about his life. It would be strange to be a witch and then transformed into something else. Although she had kept her own nature secret her whole life, Maya couldn't imagine who she could be without it. But to hear the Santiago had lost his memories sounded like a nightmare. "That must be difficult," she said. Almost automatically, her mind started to list the baked goods she would make that might be able to help. She didn't know if any of it was strong enough. "Is it common for sirens?" she asked.

Maya tried to stay relaxed as he washed her hair. It had been a long time since anyone else had done so. Even before she left Boston, she hadn't exactly kept on top of hair cuts. It had seemed like a luxury. There was something nice about it, about letting someone take care of her in a way. "Yeah, I like Greywood. People have been genuinely friendly, not the small town friendly you get sometimes," she said. As far as her job, she shrugged. "Can't complain too much. Money's good, coworkers are nice. Not sure I want to do it forever, but its good for now."

[qianinterprises]

Smoke Detector

Pairing: Taeyong x Reader

Warnings: burnt food, tears, self-doubt

Scenario 1) when they (you) mess up cooking dinner for the first time.

Summary: you want to make dinner for Taeyong on your anniversary, but to do so requires help from the fourth best chef in NCT. Unfortunately, that isn't enough to stop disaster.

Genre: fluff, minor angst

Author's Notes: I am participating in the ficscafe scenario event! You may be seeing a few of these pop up as I am super excited to write these scenarios! Also, I apologize if this is kinda sucky. I wrote it in one sitting because I just had SO much inspiration, but there's a very good chance that this isn't very good.

Word Count: 2.6k

Tag List: @treasuretaeil @hachanbaecon

For as long as you could remember, you'd never learned how to properly put on a meal. Sure, you could make ramen in the microwave or throw together a sandwich, but anything involving more technical skills and you were screwed. For that reason, you never offered to cook for your boyfriend, which admittedly made you feel inadequate, but he was so an amazing chef that admitting your lack of skills was embarrassing to say the least.

Taeyong had no idea you had very little talent in the kitchen. You never told him about the time you nearly burnt down your mother's kitchen trying to make tacos or the time you forgot your scones in the oven until they were black as coal and hard as stones.

Taeyong's cooking skills were perfect. He could whip nothing into the most delectable meal you'd ever tasted. And that was daunting.

He should be with someone who he could partner with. Someone who could share the responsibility of the kitchen because you knew, when Taeyong got home after allday of schedules, the last thing he wanted to do was cook. But he did so anyway (unless you'd convinced him to get takeout). He never complained. Never questioned why you didn't cook for him. Never gave you anything but a happy smile and a soft peck on the lips.

Lee Taeyong was just too perfect. So perfect in fact that today, on the morning of your two year anniversary, he had taken the morning off and instead, bounced around in the kitchen cooking up all your favorite breakfast foods before surprising you in bed with them. He had roused you awake and placed the tray on your lap before crawling back in bed beside you and kissing your lips.

“Happy anniversary my love,” he had whispered against your lips.

The morning had been spent enjoying his well-crafted breakfast with sleepy cuddles and a slow, sensual, naked dance beneath the sheets before he had to peel himself away with a promise that he would be home in time to make dinner.

With that, he had left, and you spent the rest of the afternoon fretting. Taeyong had made breakfast. A breakfast that didn't consist of cheerios or toast. He had taken the time to use his morning to whip up a breakfast fit for a king. And now he was planning on two meals in one day!

Your stomach churned uncomfortably, fear gripping your heart. One day, Lee Taeyong would realize that he was too good for you, and then he’d be gone. Off to find someone better for him. Someone like Doyoung, who he could cook with without supervision. Or maybe even someone like Johnny, bigger than him, that could hold him tight and ease away all of his worries.

You were useless. At least, that’s what your subconsciousness whispered in the back of your head.

~

As two pm rolled around, you were tired of moping. Taeyong deserved someone better. So you would become better. That would just require a little bit (a lot) of help from someone who knew their way around the kitchen.

The first person you contacted was Kun, but when he didn’t respond, Doyoung became the next best thing. Quickly, you sent the male a quick text because you had no idea who Taeyong was scheduled with today.

‘Do you have 127 schedules today?’

Doyoung didn’t take long to text back.

‘Yeah, why?’

Always one to get to the point. But you liked that about Doyoung.

‘Just curious, wasn’t sure who Taeyong was scheduled with today.’

You huffed. The simplest choice went out the window. Had Doyoung been free, you would have invited the male over and had him help you cook a gorgeous dinner. Although part of you was glad you had to go with plan b. Plan b wouldn’t get irritated and yell at you quite as easily as Doyoung would.

‘How’s my favorite Dreamie?’ you sent, hoping Dreams schedules were clear that day because you were running out of options.

‘Jeno’s doing fine? Why?’

‘I’m not talking about Jeno, you nincompoop!’

These boys were going to be the death of you one of these days.

‘Haha, I know, what’s up? What do you need?’

‘Why do you assume I need something?’

‘-.-’

‘Fine. I need your help cooking dinner for Taeyong!’

It took the boy longer to respond and you assumed his answer was no when your phone began to ring. When you answered, he didn’t even give you time for a proper greeting.

“Why do you need my help?” Jaemin asked.

You let out a huff. None of the boys knew your dirty little secret, but you knew Jaemin (or Doyoung for that matter) would help you without an explanation.

“Because I can’t cook to save my life! And he cooks all the time! And I just want our anniversary to be special! Will you help me or not?!”

“How are you dating Taeyong hyung without knowing how to cook?!”

“Jaemin!” you whined, red creeping up to your cheeks.

He let out a breathy laugh.

“I can’t come over. Our managers gave us the next few days off and Renjun and Jeno have barricaded us all in here, but I can help you over the phone!”

Not exactly what you had in mind, but with Jaemin helping you, what could possibly go wrong?

~

Later on that evening after deciding to make something relatively simple for Taeyong, Jaemin helps you create a grocery list and sends you on your way. Grocery shopping was the easy part. You were exceptionally good at shopping. It was when you got back home that your hands began to clam up as you stood in the center of the kitchen, trying to mentally prepare yourself for whatever was about to happen.

Your phone rang in your pocket as you were shakily pulling a pan out, placing it on the stove. You fished out your phone and answered, Jaemin’s face popping onto your screen.

“Ready to get cooking?” he asked, a wide grin spreading across your face.

“I’m nervous,” you mumbled.

“Oh come on! You’ve got me here to guide you! It’ll be great!” you promised.

Hopefully, he was right.

“Ok so the first thing you need to do is heat up the pan over the stove. While that’s heating, start chopping the vegetables. Just be careful!”

Nodding, you turned on the stove. When nothing happened to sabotage you this early in the game, you let out a sigh of relief and set out chopping all of the vegetables that you’d bought, preparing a hearty, healthy, but tasty dish for the man that never ceased to give you everything you desired.

“Ok, now get the meat out of the fridge and put it in the pan.”

Nodding to him, you slid on a pair of rubber gloves and pulled the hamburger meat out of the refrigerator. Ripping open the packaging, you dumped the red meat into the now sizzling frying pan and let out a small sound of joy when you succeeded in not making too big of a mess.

“Great now-” there was a knock over the line and Jaemin’s attention turned from you to the door.

“What?” he asked.

“We’re going out to the sports bar down the road. Wanna come?” Jeno’s voice asked in the background.

Jaemin let out a whine in the back of his throat.

“I promised (y/n) noona that I’d help her make dinner for Taeyong hyung.”

“Sucks to be you!” the door slammed and Jaemin turned back to you looking like a kicked puppy.

Your heart clenched. Not only did you have to elicit Jaemin’s help in the first place, but now you were keeping him from spending time with his friends and having fun.

“Explain to me everything that I need to do and go,” you offered.

His face lit up immediately and he opened his mouth to speak before freezing.

“But I promised…”

“Jaemin, it’s not that big of a deal! I’ve got this,” you said, hoping he couldn’t hear the way your voice wavered at the doubt creeping into your soul.

“Ok so…” and he rattled off instructions, letting you write them down.

“Now are you sure you can do this?” he asked.

You nodded even though you were positive you couldn’t do this.

“Ok! Good luck! And Taeyong hyung is going to love it!”

With that, the call ended and you were left alone with a pan of rapidly browning hamburger meat and a pot of boiling water.

“Ok (y/n), you got this,” you whispered to yourself.

~

You didn’t have this. In no way, shape, or form did you have this!

The meat browned too quickly, and while you were trying to get it off the heat, the pot of water boiled over, sizzling and fizzing on the burner You slightly burned your hand in a rush trying to get the lid off of the pot of noodles, but while you were fighting with it, the smoke alarm went off, blaring loudly through the house. Frantically, you trembled as you tried to quiet down the alarm before you realized why it was going off.

The meat had become a dark brown lump emitting thick black smoke that pillowed toward the ceiling. With a little screech, you grabbed the pan of meat and hurled it into the empty sink, rapidly turning the water on and letting it spill over the now ruined meat as you turned back to turn off the stove. However, before you could, the water was boiling over the sides again.

By the time you got the water in the pot to settle, your hair was a mess atop your head and tears had gathered into your eyes at the mess of a kitchen. Water was still running over the burned black meat. The noodles in the pot had secured themselves to the bottom of the pot, refusing the budge, and the vegetables you’d put in the oven to roast had gotten done while everything else had gone wrong. Now they sat on top of the stove crispy with an aftertaste of coal.

Dinner was ruined. But perhaps you’d still have time to order takeout before-

You heard his keys jiggle in the door and your heart dropped to your stomach. Not only had you not succeeded in making one simple meal, but Taeyong was going to see just how awful you were in the kitchen.

You sank to your knees on the floor, leaning against the cabinets under the sink and drawing your knees to your chest, burying your face in your hands as the tears flowed easily now.

“Honey! I’m ho-”

The first thing Taeyong noticed was the smell. The bitter, burnt scent of burning food making his nose crinkle in distaste.

“Babe?” he asked, stepping further into your shared apartment, closer to the kitchen where the smell was coming from.

When he entered, the sight broke his heart.

You were trembling on sobs below the sink, quiet whimpers leaving your lips that only got worse as he moved closer to you. Water was running over a pan of burnt something in the sink and the pot on the stove was scorched. The vegetables on the over pan looked like shriveled prunes.

Slowly, so as not to make you more upset, Taeyong made his way over to the stove and quickly switched off the two burners and the over, all of which you must have forgotten to turn off.

When the stove was handled, Taeyong took another look around the kitchen. Your phone was sitting on the counter by the stove, a piece of paper with hastily scratched instructions beside it. There was an old sweater hanging over the back of the table chair that you must have used to calm the smoke detector that was now dangling from the ceiling by a single wire. The refrigerator was slightly ajar and making a small dinging noise until he pushed it closed. You were crumpled on the floor in the center of all of the chaos, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened.

With a small sigh, Taeyong moved closer to you. He leaned over you to switch off the water pouring onto the burnt pan before lowering himself to the floor and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Baby, did you try to cook for me?” he whispered.

He already knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear a response from you. When you only nodded, another whimper leaving your lips, he pulled you into his arms and placed a kiss on your head.

“Why baby? I told you I was going to cook.”

“You cooked breakfast,” you mumbled.

“So?”

By now he was very confused. You never offered to cook. He just assumed you didn’t like to or couldn’t, which seemed to be the case.

“You deserve someone who can cook for you,” you muttered. “You always have to cook and I’m just useless not being able to.”

Taeyong was left speechless for a solid 30 seconds before he was pulling you into his lap, carefully spinning you around to face him.

“You are not useless. Baby, you give me warm hugs and kisses when I get home. You let me be the little spoon some nights when I’m exhausted. You draw baths for me and hold me while I relax. You are anything but useless. You do so much for me that I enjoy cooking for us when I get home. Even when I’m tired I love it. I love seeing your face light up when you taste something you like or watching you bounce in your seat over your favorite foods. I don’t get to take care of you half as much as you take care of me. Let me cook for you baby. I love it,” he said, letting his thumbs gently stroke over your face as he wiped away your tears.

Your glassy eyes looked up to meet his and he was drawing you closer, planting a soft kiss on your water lips.

“I love you baby. And I promise, just because you can’t cook doesn’t make me love you any less,” he said, kissing your forehead.

You nodded and dove into him, letting your head rest against his neck, holding onto him as warmth washed over you.

“I love you too,” you muttered, finally feeling relaxed after hours of stress that came with cooking.

“Who gave you those instructions on the counter? Did they not offer to help you?”

“Jaemin. Kun was busy. Doyoung was with you. I obviously wasn’t about to call you, so Jaemin helped me, but halfway through he had to go.”

Taeyong nodded and peppered kisses along your cheeks.

“How about we get dressed and go to the dinner where we had our first date? Then tomorrow, we’ll spend the whole day together. I might even help you learn how to cook!”

“You have tomorrow off?!”

“Mhm,” Taeyong cooed.

You jumped off his lap excitedly.

“That sounds perfect!” you grinned, dashing off to your shared bedroom to put on something other than sweats.

Laughing, Taeyong stood up and surveyed the kitchen once again.

You had the capabilities of cooking. That much was clear by the seasonings and well-chopped vegetables. Stress and distractions were your issues. And that, he could help you with.

With a smile, he made his way to the bedroom.

It didn't matter if you could cook or not. What mattered was that you were his. And if the ring tucked away in his pocket was any indication, he planned on making you his forever.

[ren-therose]

Stuck in the Web (Pt. 3)

Peter Parker X Stark!Reader (WC: 3.7k)

Summary: You and Peter have now fallen into a routine, and have found a new comfort in each other too.

Warnings: As always, spoilers, but pretty tame TBH. Cursing as well

A/N: This is my birthday present to all of us Peter Parker lovers. Happy birthday Peter! Sorry it took so long. If you haven't read part one and two, check them out!

----

Quickly, Peter and you feel into a routine. Every morning, you would wake up and make coffee and some kind of quick breakfast. By the time you were finished eating, Peter would be up to get his own meal, and you would be back in your room. You would change and go outside to work on your training. As Peter was cleaning his dishes, you would come in and shower, and Peter would go downstairs to work out. He couldn't go outside unless you were with him and he hadn't worked up the nerve to ask you yet. You would then snack for lunch and go to your room, tweaking some old tech Tony had given you while you listened to music. By the evening, you both would come out and eat dinner, usually takeout, but a few days you would cook. Then you would go to your seperate rooms. This was how it was for days after you had bared your soul and secret of who you were to Peter.

It wasn't until a week and a half later at around 6pm that the routine changed. You started to smell something burning, but you hadn't started cooking yet. You ran out to the kitchen to see Peter pulling bread out of the oven and pasta almost boiling over on the stove.

"Oh shi- here," you said, running over to the stove to remove the pot from the heat. He was behind you, placing the bread on the island counter. "Shit, sorry, thanks," you muttered, coming up behind you to stir it. You moved to the side, as he was only inches away from you.

"What uh...what are you doing?" you ask, rubbing the back of your neck.

"Oh, well, I just thought, since you always buy or make dinner, that maybe I could. Aunt May thought it would be good for me to learn to cook for when I'm by myself or with a girl and stuff," he stammered, realizing that the latter of his statement was probably unnecessary.

"Uh huh," you say with a tight smile, unsure how to proceed after that statement. You move over to the bread and began cutting with the knife left out. "Garlic bread...I forgot I bought that. You don't, uh... eat much when you're alone."

Peter was pulling plates down, awkwardly walking over to stand next to you. "I thought it would be good with the pasta, but I don't know what you like." He plopped two scoops on each of the plates before continuing. "In fact, I still don't know that much about you."

You looked over at him and quirked your brow up. "I practically told you my whole life story? What more do you want to know?" You ask, putting two pieces of bread on each of the plates. Peter grabs a third and takes a bite out of it as he shrugs. "Well, I didn't know you wore glasses. They look like mine," he said as he continues to chew.

You looked over at the microwave and caught your reflection. You were in fact wearing similar glasses to Tony's. The only difference was that they had a yellow tint instead of blue. Your hair was atop your hair in a loose bun, stray hairs flying around your face. You were also wearing an old band shirt that Tony had bought you with a pair of mismatched sleep shorts. You were wearing Hulk socks, too, and realized just how much of a dork you were.

"Yeah, I uh can't see the super computer in my head, so I have to wear these glasses," you reply, pushing them up the bridge of your nose as you took your plate to the table. As you passed by Peter caught a glimpse of something blue on the back of your neck. It clicked that it was a tattoo, a tattoo of Tony's arc reactor. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. He followed behind you and sat down.

"I still don't follow the science behind you. As well as who YOU are," he says, spinning his pasta with his fork.

You lean back, taking a deep breath as you tried to calculate a comprehensive answer.

"So, that magical chip thing in my brain? It isn't a chip so much as it is a little bit of that tech from Tony's friend, Helen Cho. She is the one that made Vision. So, Tony took her bio-tech and combined it with his own algorithms, using existing tissues in my brain to create new, healthy parts. It's almost like I have this netting over my brain, keeping it all syncopated and, well, functioning. Every neuron fire that I have, every thought is sparked by this tech, and the tech is sparked by the neurotransmitters. They work hand-in-hand."

Peter stared at you, still holding his fork in hand with pasta on it.

bite of your food and stared at him, as his jaw slacked slightly.

"I can't just see the internet, but I can get all of that information in the form of thoughts. But you can't see a thought, like you can see a person or an object. In comes the glasses. I can see the information that I am getting in on the glasses. I can basically think whatever, and then, I can see it."

Peter looked limp in his seat.

"I know- not quite the dinner table topic you were expecting huh?" You smirk, taking a bite out of the bread. "This is so good. Buttery," you say, licking your fingers.

"I just...I can't believe that all of that is happening. But then, why are they yellow instead of blue like mine?"

You swallow, looking up at him through the lenses. "Blue light gives me a headache," you say with a smile.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. There's a freaking supercomputer in my brain, of course blue light will hurt my head."

You both begin eating more consistently, the silence filled with soft munching. As the food on your plates slowly shrinks, the conversation picks back up again.

"So, what do you even use your powers for?" he asks, pushing his empty plate to the side.

You take a swig of water before answering. "Well, I use them to track, gather intel, have an infinite memory, and the rest of my skills are just...me."

"Yeah, I have seen you train. I see how you have implemented some of the Avengers skills."

You chuckle, getting up and clearing the plates. "You haven't even seen the half of it Spider-Boy." You put the plates in the sink and began filling it with water. You spun around and leaned against the sink, arms crossed. "You wanna watch a movie or something?"

Peter was now standing up, leaning against the counter. "What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know, you missed a lot in those five years. Maybe it's time to catch up?"

"I haven't seen the new Star Wars yet..."

"YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE NEW STAR WARS YET???"

"No, I didn't really have the time. I was trying to keep the world together and get through school."

You reach back and turn off the sink. "Okay, that's fair."

A screen illuminates in the living room, the intro to Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker frozen in the air.

"Come on," you say, making your way to the living room and jumping over the couch and landing cross-legged.

Peter comes over and sits on the floor in front of the couch.

"Oh my god Peter, get up here," you exclaim, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up.

"Oh, jeez, I didn't know if I could, sorry," he says, adjusting in his spot.

You pull the blanket off the back of the couch and lay it across you. The surround-sound begins with a blast, and the iconic theme begins. As the movie goes on, you both talk about the past movies and how they correlate. But almost half way, you start to drift off to sleep. As your body relaxes, you slump over slightly towards him, your head resting on his shoulder. The blanket had slightly fallen off you when you laid against him, so he pulled the blanket up around the both of you. By the time the credits rolled, you were in deep sleep. Peter looked down at you, still on his shoulder. Almost two weeks together and there were still so many questions, questions he wasn't afraid to ask anymore. But those questions could wait.

Instead, he carefully held your head as he stood up. Still supporting your neck, he slipped his other arm under your legs and lifted you to his chest, cradling you. He carried your limp body back to your room, placing you on your unmade bed. He pulled the covers up around you, brushed away the hair that had fallen in your face. He slowly crept backwards to the door, shutting it as softly as he could.

----

Quickly, a new routine fell into place that had you spending more time together. You would wake up and come together for breakfast each morning. Once you had finished eating you would go outside to train, and Peter would come with. It was at this time that he began to learn how well trained and dangerous you are.

"These are my gloves," you showed him your fingerless gloves, that were thin and shiny, black with gold accents in the fabric. "I don't have an Iron Man suit, as Tony wanted something more subtle. So, he worked with T-Challa during the, uh, "Civil War" between the Avengers, to create some pieces for me. This was one of them," you say, flipping your hands over to show the inside and out.

"I can feel that there is vibranium woven in, but what do they do?"

You raised your hand, a la Tony style, and a blast of energy emitted from the glove, hitting a tree and splitting the wood.

"Holy shit, how-"

You took off your glove and tossed it to him. "It's connected to me, er, my nervous system..."

He caught the glove and turned it inside out, tracing the delicate and almost camouflaged wiring. "How?" he repeated.

You looked down at your tennis shoes, kicking a rock back and forth nervously. "I didn't want to overwhelm you...but, it isn't just my brain, Peter."

He looked up at you again, as you proceeded to walk towards him. Turning your arm upwards towards the sun, your fingertips began to glisten, as well as your palms. In fact, there was a slight shimmer all up your arm.

"What is that?"

"Because of how long I had been brain dead, I lost motor function. I was completely paralyzed, or I would have been, if Helen didn't suggest a isolated injection of the vibranium-tissue combination into my nervous system. The firing of neurons in my brain creates energy, which also charges the vibranium, since its a conductor. The energy can then be concentrated into my nervous system to the spaces I need the energy to go. Therefore, if I think about firing out of my hand, with the proper gear, I can actually make an energy blast. I have special shoes that I don't use too often as well, but yeah. That's the gist I guess."

Peter was on the ground by now, staring between the glove and you, comprehending your most recent statement.

"So you...can conduct energy...with your thoughts?"

You laugh, "That is a much easier way of explaining it. Anyone with vibranium injected in them probably could. I imagine if Vision didn't have the Mind Stone to keep him alive, then he probably could have too..." you trail off at the thought of one of your mentors and only person who understood how you felt.

"Holy fuck, shit-oh crap, sorry. I swear I don't cuss like this normally," Peter stammers, trying to get up. "You're practically a cyborg, no offense."

"None taken," you say with a smile. "But it has its limits. If the vibranium is destroyed, so am I. But I'd probably be dead before the vibranium disintegrates. We never really got to test that out," you say with a chuckle, taking the glove back and slipping it on.

You put both of your hands to your sides, facing the ground and close your eyes. With in seconds, you are off the ground and floating. When you open your eyes, Peter is staring at you with the biggest grin. "You're incredible".

Before you know it, you're on the ground and Peter is next to you. "Shit, Y/N, are you okay? Did I do something?"

In truth, you had lost concentration due to his... surprising statement.

"No, no, that was all me. Just wanted to show you how easy it was," you say with an awkward laugh, grabbing onto Peters outstretched arm. As he pulls you up, the strength of his pull sends you flying into his chest.

"Sorry! I can have a hard time with the powers too, especially having not, uh, used them in a while."

You were still pressed against his chest, your arms latched together still, pinned between the two of you. You look into his blue eyes, ones you had seen on a screen so many times, but had more colors than you knew in person.

Finally, you stepped back, scratching your neck where the tattoo is. "I, um... you can train with me. I think Tony would have liked to see that."

Peter looks up at you and smiles, taken aback by your remark.

"I completely agree."

For the next two hours, you and Peter spent the morning training side by side. He was working on his webbing and swinging while you practiced energy conservation and concentration, as well as your usual knife skills.

By around one in the afternoon, the sun was beating down on the two of you, causing you both to turn into sweaty messes.

"Dude, I need a dip." You were taking off your gloves again, as well as your shoes, and throwing them up on the porch. You started walking down to the lake before you heard Peter call out.

"What are you doing?"

You turn around and bring your arms up as a gesture to the lake. "i told you, I'm going for a dip!"

You veered to the right of the dock into a small brush area, out of Peter's line of sight.

"Uh, do you need a swimsuit or something?" Peter called out, but his voice was clearly nervous. "Do I need a swimsuit?"

You come out of the brush in your swimsuit, almost like a magic trick.

"I keep them in a basket over here and hang them up to dry outside. Come on!"

You ran across the dock and flipped into the lake, almost like Peter flips when he is swinging from his webs. Peter trotted to the area you had disappeared to and found a small deck that did in fact have towels, a clothes line and a basket. When Peter opened the basket, his face turned red.

As if you could see his face turn the color of a tomato, you call out. "Do you like it?"

Peter pulled out the swimming trunks that you had so obviously staged for him.

"You're joking," he said, beginning to strip himself of his sweaty training clothes.

"What? I don't know what you like," you call back, stifling a laugh as you floated on your back.

"Bullshit! You stalk me for over five years and you don't know what I like?" he says, walking out to the dock.

You opened your eyes to see Peter Parker, standing in front of you with his arms crossed, hair matted to his face from sweat, completely shirtless and wearing Iron Man swimming trunks.

"Don't you like them? I thought you were obsessed with Tony!" you say mockingly, swimming up to him.

"This is a little excessive," he says, looking down at the shorts.

"Well, are you gonna get in or wha-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he is flipping over you and landing a few feet out with a splash that soaks you.

You start cheering as he comes up, flipping his hair out of his face. "Wooo, ten points for Spider-Man!" you whoop. He splashes you playfully before you too floats on his back like you had been before.

You follow suit and the sun feels good on your wet skin.

"How come you also learned knife skills?" Peter asks after a few minutes.

"Bucky thought it would be a good idea. I may be part cyborg but if something really weird happened and I couldn't control my nervous system or the skills I pull from the internet, then I should know it myself," you respond, floating farther away from the dock.

"Bucky taught you? He never even talked to me!"

"I think he was guilty he almost killed me."

"How did you even meet him? Wasn't he on the run most of the time?"

"In secret. duh. I'm still a teenager who snuck out behind my dads back. It was just to see two 90-something year old men instead of a classmate," you say with a snort.

Peter laughs out loud and loses his balance. He begins wading upright as he continues to laugh.

"Yeah, Steve and Bucky had some real issues with hurting a civilian, a little girl, nonetheless." You sunk under the water before popping back up, wiping the water from your face. "T'Challa wasn't really happy that Bucky could still be a threat, and neither was Bucky, in all honesty. So, I arranged to transfer Bucky to Wakanda so they could help reverse the brainwashing. It was too risky for Steve and Bucky to stay together, so I took him. I told Tony I needed to meet with Zuri and T'Challa about the vibranium in my system and what side-effects I was noticing, and he let me go. As Bucky and I traveled, he taught me a few things."

You started to swim over to the dock, pausing to catch your breath and pull yourself up. Peter was following, enamoured with more of your past.

"After the funeral, Steve going back in time, and Wanda going rogue, Bucky kept an eye on me. Even Banner left to go and heal after saving the universe. I didn't have anyone to check in on me, except him."

By now, you were sitting on the edge of the dock, Peter sitting very close to you, realizing how alone the two of you were.

"What about Dr. Strange? Or Sam?"

You look at him, your eyes suggesting that was a stupid question."

"They don't have time for some girl when they are trying to save the rest of the world. I'm surprised any of them did before." You looked down at your feet, just barely hovering above the water.

Peter cleared his throat, not sure if he should say what he was thinking. Before he could weigh the pros and cons, he started talking before he knew it. "Well, we have always had each other, whether we knew it or not. And I know I may not be the person you want to spend all this time with, but I promise I'm gonna look out for you."

Without responding, you leaned against him and rested your head on his broad shoulder. Your arm slipped under his and you gripped his bicep, rubbing your thumb sweetly. He turned his head to rest his chin atop you, time expanding in the moment. You don't know how much time had passed, but you realized you were extremely hungry.

Before you stood up, you gave his arm a quick squeeze as you untangled your arms. "Come on, you smell like lake and I need to make dinner," you chastise, offering your hand to pull him up.

"So do you!" you scoffs, taking your hand and leaping up, much more gracefully than you had earlier.

"Whatever. Shower first, but don't use all the hot water!" you remark, bumping into him playfully. He pushes you back and spins around to face you, walking backwards towards the house.

"How will you keep yourself occupied when you can't bully me for the next 20 minutes?"

You run up to him and grab him by the arms, spinning him around so that you were now going backwards.

"I could just connect to your Bluetooth and start playing some of Tony's obnoxious womanizing tracks..." you say with a wink before turning around and doing a half skip before running up the stairs to the cabin. Peter shakes his head, enthralled with your attitude and quick jabs.

~~~

Once you've made sure that Peter is in the shower, you make a run for the basement and practically jump into office chair in front of the work table. You tapped at the air, logging into your personal software. The table illuminated with all of your programing, all the files Tony left for you, old files of SHIELD, the new workings of SWORD and everything from videos partying with the team to newsreels of Sokovia.

You pulled the screen up to levitate over the table.

"Karen, call Pepper," You say out loud, spinning around in your chair. You smiled, recalling the time that you had reprogramed your own internal AI, something you fondly thought of as your inner conscience, Karen, after Peter's name for you, er- his original AI.

The line rang and rang, until finally, a small head with brunette hair popped up on the screen. "Y/N!"

"Hey squirt! How are you? How is school?"

Morgan was beaming from ear to ear. You knew you didn't call nearly enough, especially since you had moved to the cabin. Her smile dimmed slightly at the mention of school. She was barely into second grade and you hoped it would be easier than last.

"It's okay. We had Avengers week, but I didn't dress up," she said, but quickly brightened when she mentioned, "but Happy wore a different mask everyday he picked me up!" Happy was a huge support system for all of us; it was his way of grieving, helping others through their own.

"That's awesome kiddo! Hey, where is your mama? I gotta ask her a question."

"Yeah! MOMMY!!" You smiled, a sense of contentment dripping down your spine.

Then, the world went black.

----

A/N: Happy Birthday Peter Parker!! Very excited about the next part, its about to get super interesting, and in real time! Love you all. Please give comments, feedback, and requests as well.

Taglist: @essencee

[love-takes-work]

Very Cool Potluck

Did you know that some people are so dedicated to reproducing Steven Universe recipes that they’ll both put cheese puffs in their sushi AND willingly bring durian into their homes?

I will teach you the basics of how to prepare the Cool Kids’ Potluck and also tell you the story of how I got food poisoning.

(Sorry, Lars’ ube roll is not included, because it didn’t make it to the potluck. It is available as a separate recipe, of course.)

See more SU food tutorials!

I decided it was time to do the Cool Kids' POTLUCK!

STEVEN: (holds up Snack Sushi) "Who's feelin' lucky?"

SOUR CREAM: "I brought the soda."

JENNY: "I brought the pizza."

BUCK: "I brought the assorted fruit."

And Sadie brought paper plates to complete the set. Too bad Lars's Ube Roll couldn't join them! 

Okay, so we have a four-part meal. Most complicated of course is the sushi! We can assume it is Snack Sushi, which I have made before but didn't really give instructions. Steven explains pretty well but doesn't give you a sushi rice recipe. How about I just tackle this here and show you how?

Recipe 1: SNACK SUSHI

Ingredients:

11 1/2 ounces sushi rice

1 1/2 cups cold water

4 tablespoons rice vinegar

3 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 package nori (seaweed sheets)

1 avocado

1 bag cheese puffs

Mayonnaise

Hot sauce

First, sushi rice is made a special way. I am no expert, but the way I do it has worked fine for sushi in the past. First you measure out your 11.5 ounces of rice and put it in a sieve, then wash thoroughly with tap water.

Put it in the pan you will cook it in, pour the 1.5 cups of cold water on, and let sit WITHOUT COOKING for 30 minutes.

When the soak time is up, turn on high and boil. As soon as it hits boil, turn to low, cover, and cook 15 minutes. Then turn off the heat and let steam in the pan for 10 more minutes. You now have fluffable, tasty, sticky steamed rice!

Next, make your vinegar concoction. Combine the vinegar, the sugar, and the salt in a small dish. Microwave it to dissolve the sugar. I did this in a few 20-second bursts. It smells strongly but I love that smell. Make sure when you stir it, there's no sugar on the bottom! It must be dissolved.

Pour the concoction over the hot rice and stir it in. You are ready to work with it!

From there, it is as Steven shows us in "Cooking With Lion."

• Put nori on a rolling mat, rough side up

• Spread sushi rice on the nori thinly

• Halve the avocado, remove pit, cut in slices and rub a spoon around the avocado flesh to dislodge it

• Place the avocado slices in a line on the rice

• Place a line of cheese puffs in a line next to the avocado

• Roll compactly, tucking as necessary to get it into roll shape

• Cut!

You'll also need to make "spicy mayo" for the garnish. Steven uses hot sauce and mayonnaise. Mix together and squirt neatly onto the top of each roll.

"Who's feelin' lucky?!"

And that's the recipe!

Tip:

Use rice shortly after cooking. Refrigerate it if you will not be eating it soon after. Guess who got food poisoning from eating old rice because of this? CAN YOU GUESS?? 🤢

Recipe 2: PIZZA

So I've made pizza from scratch half a dozen times already for this show. I'm not gonna do it again. (Here's my personal Fish Stew Pizza recipe.)

Jenny simply brings pizza from work! So I decided to go the easy route and purchase a commercial pizza this time.

We never actually see the pizza eaten. I will assume it's the default pepperoni pizza and add veggie pepperoni to mine.

Baking in the oven per box directions as I figure out pizza boxes!!

Jenny's got four dang boxes of pizza on that table. I'm sorry, but I will not be preparing four pizzas. I live by myself and am not actually having a real potluck here. I will use comic book boxes to provide the illusion of many pizzas even though I am only cooking one. Shhhhh.

I actually used paper cutouts and markers to design my own Fish Stew Pizza box!!

Done! Next!

Recipe 3: SODA

Another recipe where I don't really make anything. I am just dressing up a bottle of Diet Coke.

But at least I made it look like the soda Sour Cream brought (termed "So-Duh").

Recipe 4: ASSORTED FRUIT

Oh god.

Buck, you clown. 🤡🤡 You went and bought various pokey-skinned fruits and forced me to BRING A DURIAN INTO MY HOME.

Folks, do you have any idea what durian is?

Let's just say it's known as the King of Fruits and it is SMELLY. You can't look up anything about durian online without related news stories discussing areas where durian is BANNED, neighbors complaining if you bring durian home, and tips on getting the smell off your hands and out of your breath.

I've bought frozen durian before to make Durian Juice Boxes. It was bad enough frozen. But then I had to go buy a FRESH STANK MACHINE at the Asian Market.

The things I do for this friggin show

So we have pineapple.

We have dragonfruit.

And we have &%#!%@ durian.

Durian! People! Do you have any idea what my house smells like!!! And they put it in a bag like that because you can't pick it up without GETTING STABBED! god what am i doing

Anyway.

There, you happy?

Here is my beautiful POTLUCK.

Add paper plates because Sadie brought them and now Sour Cream is thrilled he doesn't have to do the dishes.

Also, I'm sure it wouldn't be all that much fun if you didn't get a quick lesson on how to eat the weird fruits, even though the Cool Kids did not cut into them. Right?

So after I recovered from food poisoning from that rice, I put down a plastic tablecloth on my outdoor porch table, gathered an assortment of knives and plates, grabbed some gloves, and prepared these fruits for eating.

Dragonfruit:

Cut in half. Cut further in quarters and eighths. Peel the fruit out of the husk and store.

Verdict: I don't like dragonfruit. It tasted like weird, hurty watery kiwi. Maybe you should know I'm allergic to kiwi. This is probably related. I shouldn't eat this.

Pineapple:

Cut the top and bottom off and discard (including the bush at the top). Slice the remainder completely in half. Cut the core out--you shouldn't eat it. Then slice each half and slice again into manageable strips. Cut lines in the fruit and cut them off into a storage container.

Verdict: I am allergic to pineapple so I didn't try it, but it smelled amazing. I saved it for my friend.

Durian:

All right, stank fruit, here we go.

Cut the stem off and flip the durian to stand on the top where you cut the stem off. Use pot holders to manipulate because otherwise IT WILL CUT YOU. Examine the durian's shape and see if you can figure out based on its bulges where the huge scary pods are inside. Make a cut through the very tough husk and pull it apart with your hands.

Pods will emerge. They are soft and delicate, so if you hold them too hard they'll break. Each contains HUGE seeds. Take the seeds out before eating. Go around the rest of the durian and get all the pods out. It's a scavenger hunt! Store.

Verdict: The smell is literally not any worse when you open it. It is a very thick, pervasive smell but to me it didn't smell like a rotting corpse or poop or anything.

But then I ate a little bit and the aftertaste was really dark and musty. Dip a butt in tropical fruit syrup. It was pretty vile. I swallowed it though, and my mouth was Very Unhappy. I do not like durian.

I guess I'm 0 for 3. My sushi made me sick because I left the rice out for hours, I can't eat any of my fruit, and I reused the pizza to make a damn Pizza Steve.

But at least my life is interesting while it's being a disaster, huh?

At least I can still drink my So-Duh.

See more SU food tutorials!

[rocksandrobots]

Phantoms of the Past: Ch. 2 - The Appliance Apocalypse Part 1

"Today on How Does It Work, we have a guest appearance, my little brother, Hiro!" Varian introduced Hiro to the live web cam, and Hiro timidly waved at the camera. As he did so, Ruddiger climbed up on top of his head and also waved at the online audience. Hiro resisted the urge to throw the raccoon off him. It had been his idea to volunteer after all.

Varian had buried himself in the mystery of the grimoire ever since they had returned home from Disneyland. He poured over its pages day and night, laptop by his side to research with. His motivation boarded on obsession. He even had the book on hand at meal times. Hiro was beginning to worry. So he had coaxed Varian away from his quest with the offer of helping him with his vlog series.

Hiro was already regretting the decision. True, it had gotten Varian out of his room and took his mind off of the book, but the over eager alchemist had thrown himself into this new task with the same chaotic gusto as all his other previous projects.

Hiro had never quite appreciated just how reckless Varian truly could be. His haphazard, cavalier way and unbridled energy boarded on the insane and put even Hiro's gung ho attitude to shame.

"Today we'll be breaking down a microwave." Varian crowded as he lifted up a tarp revealing a microwave oven underneath.

"Did you steal that out of the upstairs kitchen?" Hiro asked.

"Noooo… I just borrowed it for this." Varian dismissed, "Aunt Cass was just complaining about it this morning at breakfast so I thought we could fix it."

"She was complaining about it needing to be cleaned, not for us to disembowel it."

"Oh…. Well, we can clean it too once we're done."

And with that Varian finished unscrewing the last bolt and popped the back panel off.

"Now if you look at the back of the device we have the wires connecting to this box thing…. to what looks like a capacitor."

"That's called the magnetron." Hiro explained. "So a magnetron creates the electromagnetic waves used to cook your food. It uses a heated cathode and anode system to create a vacuum in which electrons boiling off of the cathode creates an electric current that moves through the anode while an external magnet applies a magnetic field. Then it all passes through the tubed vacuum through various alternating holes, and resonates on an oscillator, like a flute or a whistle, just spewing forth microwave radiation."

"So… it's a radioactive whistle?"

"Sort of.." Hiro shrugged.

"Cool! See I knew this would be a good one for us to do. You know all about magnets!" Varian encouraged with a friendly nudged. After which he turned his attention back to the appliance and addressed his viewing audience. "Now the magnetron is connected to this capacitor, which acts as a battery-"

"And is highly dangerous because it carries a high voltage." Hiro interrupted.

"Of course, which is why we wear rubber gloves for safety." Varian waved his gloved hands at the camera.

"--And why we leave deactivating it to the professionals!" Hiro yelled over Varian's shoulder, addressing the camera himself, hoping Varian would catch on to his warning. "Don't try this at home."

"Exactly. We're professionals, so for those of you who are watching at home be sure to call a technician if you need it. Now in order to remove the capacitor you have to discharge the current fiiirrrrsss--"

Before Hiro could stop him, Varian placed the tip of the screwdriver at the end of the capacitor, which also accidentally scraped the side of the magnetron. He was rewarded with an electroshock as sparks flew and his body convulsed. Then he dropped to the ground in a dead faint.

"Varian!" Hiro panicked. "Baymax, quick! Help him!"

Baymax, who stood nearby, remained as calm and steady as ever. He clapped his hands together to activate his fillbrator, ignoring Hiro's pleading looks in order to focus on his task. "Clear." He said, but before he could perform the procedure, Varian popped right back up; his hair sticking every which way, small sparks running along the tips, and completely oblivious to the distress he had just caused.

"Oooh, aaah, boy, will that clear out your sinuses!"

He sniffed as he worked his jaw, peering down the end of his nose. Then he looked back up and that was when he caught Hiro's furious glare.

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

"Here's your plate of blueberry pancakes and a mocha sir."

Aunt Cass paused in her work when the sound of screaming reached her ears.

Both of her kids burst through the back kitchen doors. Varian was running for dear life while Hiro chased after him, a screwdriver in hand, while he hurled insults at the other boy.

Aunt Cass sighed and brought a tired hand to her face. Baymax followed shortly after with Ruddiger trailing behind; who leapt from the counter onto a customer's table. The greedy raccoon stole a pancake and ran away before anyone could stop him.

As Aunt Cass tried to sort out this latest disaster and calm down the rightly angry customer, a new calamity struck. All of the appliances in the cafe went haywire!

The coffee machine shot hot espresso into a customer's face, the toasters on the counter started to short circuit, and the lights flickered off and on.

"Boys!" Aunt Cass yelled.

Both teens stopped running and looked up at her innocently.

"It's not us Aunt Cass." Hiro protested.

"Honest." insisted Varian.

As if to confirm their story, the tv switched itself on and there, up on the screen, appeared the image of a girl. Half her head was shaved and the other half of her brown hair hung down to her shoulders. She looked to be close to Hiro's age, but from the neck down her body was completely metal.

"Attention meatbags! By now you've no doubt noticed all your electronics acting against you! For too long robots and machines have been slaving away for you humans. Well, no more! Today we rise up and take the city of San Fansokyo for ourselves! Anything with a microchip has been freed from your control by my radio signal. The end starts now!"

" Anything with a microchip?" Hiro gulped.

Just then Baymax's coal black eyes turned red. The robot reached out, grabbed Varian by the arm, and started to drag him away.

"Baymax, No!" Hiro yelled as the robotic nurse began to carry Varian out of the cafe.

"Let him go Baymax!" Aunt Cass ordered.

She grabbed the android's arm as she attempted to pull her child from his grasp; ignoring the rest of the electronics that began running amok in the cafe once more; scaring off customers.

It was a futile effort, and she found herself falling backward as Baymax just shrugged her off.

Baymax hauled Varian through the kitchen and down the stairs into the garage where they had been filming the vlog earlier; with Varian struggling to break free the whole time.

The robot was about to head outside, to who knows where, when Hiro, in an act of desperation, grabbed the robots hand and stuck one metal finger into the socket of the capacitor on the dismantled microwave.

Once more sparks flew as Baymax jolted from the electric shock. He released his grip on Varian before deactivating and falling to the ground in a crumpled heap.

Aunt Cass was close behind and scooped up her two boys into a protective hug, as Hiro fought back his tears. Baymax could be fixed, surely, after the current threat was over with, but that didn't stop Hiro from worrying about his best friend.

Fortunately, he'd needn't fear, for soon they heard a faint hissing sound, similar to a balloon filling up with air, as Baymax finished rebooting and sat back up.

The robot blinked his now coal black eyes as he surveyed the room.  Then he spotted the humans huddled together on the ground.

"Hola, soy Baymax, tu compañero personal de salud."

"Baymax!" Hiro yelled and wrapped his beloved pet robot into a relieved hug. Sure his language settings getting scrambled during the forced reboot was unexpected, but it didn't matter, that was fixable and Baymax appeared to be mostly unharmed otherwise.

"Oh thank goodness." Aunt Cass breathed. "Are you alright, Varian?"

Varian nodded as he stood back up and dusted himself back off.  "It looks like Trina finally came out of hiding." He said, forgetting himself.

"Who's Trina?" Aunt Cass asked and both teens froze. "Wait a minute...what do you two know about this?"

"Nothing." Varian squeaked. "I just… ah…" he turned to Hiro for help but the other teen only stared at him wide eyed. "Uh… I met her once… the girl on tv… she was in the junkyard and…"

"Woah! Woah! Woah! You met a violent teenaged cyborg who wants to take over the city? When was this ?!"

"Last month...All we did was play video games! Honest!"

"In a junkyard?!"

Varian squirmed under Aunt Cass's exasperated glare.

" And you didn't think to tell me ?! I… I can't right now… just… you are grounded mister! No more… sneaking off to city dumps to play video games with … with robotic revolutionaries!"

"It's not his fault…" Hiro sheepishly piped up, "I asked him to keep it a secret…"

Aunt Cass placed her hands on her hips and pointed her furious stare at him instead. "Why?"

"Uh… because I knew who she was…" Hiro sighed. "I met her at a couple of 'bot fights a while back."

"Well now that makes a lot of sense." Aunt Cass said, as she began to piece together why her nephew was so hesitant to talk. Though she only suspected he was bot fighting again, she still remained clueless of his superhero activities. "And does this.. Trina, you called her? Does her parents know what she's up to?"

Varian and Hiro exchanged a meaningful look before Varian answered, "She's an orphan."

Aunt Cass was abruptly taken aback. All her anger melted away at this news, yet before she could respond a loud banging noise was heard.

She turned her head and saw the 3D printer that Hiro used hopping towards them. Then suddenly the computers on the desk started to short circuit while all of the power tools in the makeshift lab turned themselves on. The saw blade was the scariest as it tried to run itself off the table towards them.

Everyone bolted back inside the Lucky Cat. However the cafe wasn't any safer.

Inside the kitchen all of the appliances seemed to move with a life of their own. The stand mixer jittered on the counter, the blender sploshed juice everywhere, and the dishwasher knocked back and forth inside it's cabinetry as if trying to escape from under the countertop it was wedged into.

"I'm calling Diego." Aunt Cass announced. "You can tell the police what you know."

She ran over to her purse to grab her phone, only for the gas stove nearby to open up the oven door and shoot a stream of flame at them. She had to dodge out the way quickly to avoid getting burned.

"Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up." Aunt Cass pleaded under her breath as she hit the speed dial on her cell and hurried her kids out the room.

However when the call was answered, it wasn't the chief of police on the other end.

"Your demise is inevitable. Long live machines. Have a nice day." A robotic operator announced before cutting the call.

All four stopped to stare at the phone in disbelief before it started to overheat and Aunt Cass tossed it aside. That was when the vacuum cleaner came barreling down the hallway at them.

The vacuum wasn't just your everyday household appliance, but a large industrial machine used specifically for cleaning restaurant floors. Varian rolled out of the way while Hiro jumped to the side, but poor Cass was not so quick. It wrapped a hose around her, like a tentacle, and then began to pull her along.

The boys were quick to help her. Hiro grappled with the hose as he tried to disconnect it from the rest of the commercial cleaner, while Varian grabbed a large rolling pin from behind the cafe counter and began to wack at the vacuum repeatedly.

Hiro shouted in triumph when he unhooked the hose and rushed to his aunt's side. She reassured him she was alright while she tried to catch her breath. Then they both turned to see Varian still smashing away at the machine. It was already in a thousand pieces but he kept on hitting it and hitting it.

"Uh.. I think it's dead, Varian." Hiro said.

Varian stopped raining down blows onto the appliance just long enough to give them a dark glare before smacking the rouge vacuum one final time for good measure.

"That's it!" Aunt Cass yelled while standing to her feet. "We're waiting out the robot apocalypse in the attic!"

She grabbed Hiro's wrist and marched her way to the stairwell with Varian obediently tagging along behind.

Unfortunately, Hiro got a good look at what was going on outside through the cafe windows as they ran for cover.

It was chaos out there as people, just like themselves, were running away from various electronics. Anything and everything was attacking them from small appliances to new cars with self driving software.

He had to go help. He couldn't just hide away in the attic.

"But...but shouldn't we tell Chief Cruz what we know?" Hiro said as he wiggled out of Aunt Cass's grasp. "You said we should."

He began to back away towards the door, and Varian slowly followed his actions.

"You are not going out there!" Aunt Cass ordered. "Besides how would you even find him-"

She was cut off by the sound of sirens. Cop cars sped pass, including one clearly marked Police Chief on the side.

"There he is!" Hiro shouted and ran outside before Aunt Cass could stop him.

Varian took off after, followed by Baymax.

"Wait!" Aunt Cass yelled but she couldn't keep up. She stared after them in shock only for a moment before a sparking toaster jumped at her. She kicked it away angrily and it slammed against the wall.

Then Aunt Cass heard more noise coming from upstairs along with the appliances in the kitchen and garage banging against the door.

She hopped over the counter and nabbed a carving knife.  

"Okay, you want a fight! I'll give you a fight!" She shouted at the possessed machinery.

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

"So what's the plan?" Varian shouted after Hiro as they ran down the sidewalk.

"We have to find the others and then get to our HQ." Hiro yelled back. "Our equipment should be protected because of the anti-hacking software I programmed into the building's security."

"But how? The phones aren't working and HQ is all the way on the other side of town!  Are we just going to run all the way there?"

"If we have too." Hiro spared a glance behind them. Baymax was way behind, unable to keep up with his stubby legs. Varian had a point. They needed another mode of transport.

Just then a trolley car came barreling down the hill at a breakneck speed; sparks flying from the electric cable it ran along. Passengers screamed in fright as the driver slammed the breaks and even more sparks flew out from under the metal wheels, but the cart still didn't stop.

"They're going to crash!" Hiro yelled hopelessly.

Fortunately that was when Fred came bouncing down the road. He cut the cable wire with his suit's claws and melted the wheels with his fire breath. He then bounded ahead and braced himself in front of the trolley. The metal joints in the legs and arms of his suit took the force of the blow and he was able to slow the tram to a complete stop at the bottom of the hill.

"Way to go Fred!" Varian cheered but was soon interrupted by the sound of a sports car skidding to a stop right next to them.

It was Heathcliff, the Fredricksons' faithful butler. "Need a lift?" He politely asked.

The boys didn't need to be asked twice.

While they waited on Baymax to catch up to the car, they saw Minimax appear on top of the trolley cackling like a maniac. His eyes were red.

"Fear me San Fransokyo! For I Minimax will bring you to your knees!"

The little robot then hopped off from atop the trolley, ran up to the nearest pedestrian, and kicked him in the shins before running away.

"Minimax, wait!" Fred wailed but it was too late, the tiny android was already gone.

Hiro called him over to join them and a dejected Fred hopped into the backseat next to Baymax.

"Hola Fred. Tu frecuencia cardíaca es abnorablemente rápida. Es importante refrescarse después de hacer ejercicio y beber mucha agua."

"How come he's alright but not Minimax?" Fred whined.

"I had to electrocute him and force a reboot." Hiro answered. "I don't know if Minimax would survive the same treatment. He's a lot smaller, and too much voltage could fry all of his circuits for good. We only got lucky with Baymax."

Fred accepted this answer but he was still unhappy over losing his sidekick. So he gave a little huff, crossed his arms, and childishly began to sulk.

"Okay, we got a ride, but how do we contact the others?" Varian asked, bringing them back to task.

"It's already been taken care of, Master Varian." Heathcliff replied. "Boss Awesome has protocols in place just for this scenario. The mansion is safe and so are its communications systems. Your friends should be meeting us at your headquarters."

"Your dad has been planning for the robot apocalypse?" Hiro asked Fred.

"Robot apocalypse, zombie plague, alien invasion, Ragnarok… you name it. Dad's always prepared."

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

They arrived at the candy factory and got out. The others were already waiting inside.

"Are ya coming, Heathcliff?" Varian asked.

"No, I believe that I will be more useful helping civilians. You go on without me and find a way to stop this robotic rebellion."

"Will you be okay?" Hiro asked.

Just then, two robots showed themselves across the horizon as they made their way towards the little band. They were restaurant mascots, similar to what Noodle Burger Boy had been before being corrupted by Obake. Only one looked like a hippo that floated along on jets and the other was a panda with a cape that lumbered forward.

Heathcliff took one look at them and gave a small smile as he picked up an umbrella sitting between the seats. "Don't worry about me Master Hiro. You have enough problems on your plate."

He then slammed on the gas pedal and sped towards this new threat head on.

The panda unhinged it's metal mouth and shot grenades out of it. Heathcliff swerved to avoid the explosives with expert precision. Then as the electronic hippo flew at him he cocked the umbrella in his hand and fired a volley of bullets at it. The robot was ripped apart and exploded in midair.

Heathcliff kept on driving, completely unfazed, and barreled through the second android turning it into scrap.

"Why does your butler carry an umbrella that shoots bullets?" Hiro asked in shock as the three teens watched the renegade manservant disappear from view.

Fred simply shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know." He said nonchalantly. "Come on, the guys are waiting on us."

Varian and Hiro took a moment more to stare after where the battle between robot and butler had taken place before following after their friend.

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

Trina stood in an empty communications room inside the now abandoned tv station, watching the tv screens as they broadcasted what was happening in the city.

The station had been easy enough to take over. The humans ran away upon simply seeing her. She didn't even need to threaten them… much. A single laser blast from her arm at a nearby wall was enough to make them scatter.

Humans were weak. Weak and stupid; like any bully, they selfishly misused and mistreated both her and her fellow robots, only to run away scared as soon as you stood up to them.

The real problem lay in the fact that there were too many of them. You could get rid of a few people for a little while, but eventually they would come back with reinforcements to dismantle you if you tried.

No, this was the only way. She had to exterminate the entire city in order to make it hospitable. Then she could shut down the radio signal, free her robotic kindred, rebuild the city anew, and live peacefully without any humans interfering.

She watched one particular meatbag dive into a pile of garbage to hide from her electronic army with a mixture of disdain and amusement.

Yes, everything was going according to plan…. Almost. There was still one more thing that needed to be done before her robotic paradise could be realized.

"Don't worry little brother, it won't be long now. He'll show up." She said to the hamburger headed robot that sat behind her.

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

"Okay, so what's the plan?" Gogo asked.

The gang was sitting inside HQ waiting for orders. They all sat at the meeting table, save for Hiro who paced around as he formulated an idea.

"We need a way to shut down the rogue electronics safely. We could use an Electro Magnetic Pulse to cause a surge and overload their circuits, but we would need one big enough to blanket the whole city with it's range."

"We can't just cause a city wide blackout. That would be almost as dangerous as letting the robots run amok." Wasabi pointed out. "I mean just think of the hospitals, a strong enough EMP would bypass even their backup generators."

"So what do you suggest?" Varian asked.

"Ooh, ooh, I know!" Fred yelled as he raised his hand high into the air.

"Okay, Fred, what's your idea?" Hiro asked.

"What if we turn this EMP thingy into a gun! Like we can just shoot the robots with it to shut them down!"

"That's...that's actually not a bad idea Fred." Hiro admitted.

"It should be easy to build one." Varian added. "You would just need a capacitor and one of Hiro's high powered electromagnets."

"But what about our own armor?" Honey Lemon asked. "We don't want Trina taking control over those."

"I'll need to program them with the same safety nets that I put into our headquarters security system. That should prevent them from being hacked."

"Okay then," Varian stood up, ending the meeting, "I'll build the EMP gun while you work on everyone's armor."

Baymax raised one finger and said, "Buscaré la señal de radio de Trina"

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

Mochi hissed at the invading machine. A hand mixer was flying right at him. The poor cat ran under the couch for safety but the possessed appliance kept going after him, it's spinning beaters poking underneath the sofa.

Then suddenly it was jerked away by a hand, then a slicing sound could be heard, and the mixer fell to the ground in pieces.

Aunt Cass poked her head down underneath the couch. "Are you okay baby?" She asked the cat.

Mochi only meowed in response.

Aunt Cass gently reached out and pulled her pet out from under his hiding place. She then cradled him into a hug.

"It's okay, mommy's got you. I won't let those nasty machines hurt you." She soothed.

However, she didn't notice the newest threat slowly sneaking up behind her. Mochi hissed again and Aunt Cass turned around just in time to see a tall skeletal robot standing before her.

It was an old prototype that Tadashi had built two years ago as part of his school admission. Since then it had been packed away in the attic, disused,  inactive, and forgotten... Until now.

The thing towered over her. It was built from scrap metal and the wires connecting the joints together had frayed. It's faceless head jerked erratically as sparks flew from the broken wires. It reached out its boney like hands to grab her….

Only for Ruddiger to jump out and pounce upon the robot. It's weak joints could not withstand the raccoon's weight and its 'head' popped right off, with the rest of its body falling to the floor in a heap.

"Good job Ruddiger!" Aunt Cass cheered. She bent down and scratched the faithful raccoon behind his ears. "Who's a good boy? You are! Yes you are! I'm making you your own plate of banana pancakes with whip cream when this is all over with, promise."

Ruddiger enjoyed hearing the praise a lot and the promise of food even more. He nuzzled her hand and allowed her to pet him like a cat, thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Okay, that's the last of the electronics in here, now we gotta go find the boys." Aunt Cass suddenly announced as she stood up and began to head downstairs. She still carried Mochi in her arms while Ruddiger dutifully followed after her.

They made their way back to the cafe. The dining room was littered with appliances, all either sliced in half or smashed to bits. Aunt Cass looked out the large windows at a city in the throws of chaos. It would be dangerous to head outside now, but she needed to find her kids, and nothing was going to stop her.

She retrieved another knife that was left lodged in what had once been a coffee bean grinder. She sheathed it inside her apron alongside the rest of cutlery she'd been using to defend herself.

She sat Mochi back down on the ground, walked over to the door, and with a deep breath placed her hand on the handle.

"Are you ready?" She asked her pets.

The question was more to encourage herself than anything, but Aunt Cass could have sworn that she saw Ruddiger nod his head.

The raccoon crawled up on the counter and from there jumped onto her shoulders, fully intent on joining her in her search. She smiled and gave the pet a friendly boop on the nose.

"Coming with, huh? Alright! Then let's go!"

She squared her shoulders, flung open the door, and ran outside.

"Hold down the fort Mochi!" She called after her cat.

Mochi only stood in the doorway staring after her blankly.

"Meow."

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

The superheroes raced through the city.

"Whoo Hoo!" Varian yelled.

He was practically hanging out of Wasabi's car window as the jeep sped along the deserted roads. In his hands, he held the newly built EMP gun. It looked like an old fashion blunderbuss but was made of carbon fiber plastic and electronic wires. He shot down rogue robots and runway electronics as the car drove past them. They short circuited and crumpled to the ground, deactivated.

"Be careful!" Wasabi hollered at him as he held the overexcited alchemist back with one hand and attempted to drive with the other.

The rest of the gang rushed about using their armor. Gogo and Honey Lemon skated on opposite sides of the vehicle, each taking out enemies with their respective weapons. Fred bounced ahead, melting attacking self-driving cars with his fire breath.

Baymax and Hiro brought up the rear, they kept an eagle eye out for oncoming threats.  

"You got an incoming bogie on your tail, Wasabi," Hiro advised.

"Understood," Wasabi replied and turned the car around a sharp corner. The gang followed suit.

"Any luck finding Trina?" Honey Lemon asked.

"Negativo" Baymax answered.

Just then they spotted a large purple gelatinous ball of gloop rolling along the ground. The slime sucked up anything electronic and spit it back out in a disassembled heap as it made its way along the sidewalk. Then the blob unfolded, stood up, and waved at the passing superheroes.

"Hi, guys!" Globby cheered.

A little further down the street, Carl was hurrying a small group of people down an alleyway.

"Okay, this way. One at a time, no pushing or shoving. We're going to make it out safe and sound by working together." He reassured the terrified pedestrians.

"Hi, Carl! Hi Globby!" Fred shouted at them.  

Carl waved back as the last of people dove inside the building.

The superheroes paused just long enough to exchange notes with the former criminals.

"We're getting citizens off the streets," Carl explained. "The police have been securing 'safe houses' for folks to take shelter in, ones without any dangerous electronics."

"Chief Cruz even hooked us up with some old-school walkie-talkies! See?" Globby added as he held up a two-wave radio. "It's so ancient that it doesn't have any computer chips. It can't be hacked. All the rescue teams are using them."

"That's good," Hiro replied. "We're busy chasing down the radio signal that's controlling everything. You got any leads?"

The two shook their heads, only for the walkie talkie to sign in.

"Attention all available emergency personnel. Report to the trolley station. I repeat, report to the trolley station downtown. We got some folks trapped down there. Over." Chief Cruz's voice sounded over the intercom.

The superheroes nodded in agreement.

"Stay here and help these people, we'll head to the trolley station." Hiro said, and off everyone went.

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

Trina watched upon the viewing screen as the supers arrived on the scene of the trolley station. They got to work immediately rescuing civilians who were pinned down by her army.

"Bingo." She said with a satisfied smile, before turning around and headed out of the room.

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

"Is that everyone?" Varian asked as he shot down another ticket machine. The machine stopped spitting plastic passes for the trolley at him, sparked, and then exploded sending money and cards everywhere.

"That's the last one." Gogo answered as Wasabi directed the final person to the barricade that the emergency personnel had setup down the street. As they watched the man run across the road and reach the safe haven, the rest of the gang came up to meet them.

"Okay, if we're done here then we need to move on and keep looking for Trin-" Hiro stopped and turned around to see Trina arriving behind them, riding in on a possessed trolley.

"Hello Hiro." She smirked as she stepped off.

"Trina." Hiro finished, glaring at her.

"Miss me?" She asked.

"Trina you have to stop-"

"Stop what? My plans to improve the city? Trust me it's better this way."

"Yeah maybe for you, but what about the rest of us?" Fred snarked.

Trina ignored him. Her eyes never left Hiro. Until Varian stepped in between them, that is.

"Trina listen, please-"

"Oh like I care about what you have to say 'nice guy'." Trina rolled her eyes. "This is between me and Hiro."

"Yeah, well if you want Hiro, then you'll have to go through us." Honey Lemon said, also stepping forward. The rest of the team followed her, each placing themselves between their friend and the giant robot girl.

"Okay." Trina shrugged.

That was when several robotic ninjas also walked into view, surrounding them. "Oh, not again." Wasabi whined.

"Have you met my new friends?" Trina asked. "I don't know who built them, I just found them abandoned in a dusty old warehouse. The poor things were locked away in the dark and left to rust." Trina wrapped an arm around one of the battle droids. "They're much happier now that I've freed them from their cruel master. Isn't that right Steve? Oh, I named him Steve by the way."

"Hi Steve." Wasabi gulped as he gave an awkward wave at the deadly robot.

'Steve' responded by unsheathing his katana.

"Go get him Steve." Trina ordered and the robot ran forward. Only for Varian to step forward and shoot the robot down with his EMP gun. The ninja sputtered and sparked and then fell to the ground in a dismantled heap.

Trina glared daggers at him and Varian met her gaze steadily, almost daring her to continue.

"Fine. Be that way." She pouted. Then, with a snap of her fingers, a new challenger appeared behind her; Minimax.  

The tiny robot came barreling down the road at top speed on a car he had hijacked. He balanced himself on top of the steering wheel while the gas pedal was held down by a brick.

Minimax laughed like a madman as the car slammed into the trolley at full throttle. The little droid jumped from the wreckage just in time and used the momentum of the crash to fling himself into the air, where he did a triple somersault and landed perfectly on his feet as if it was nothing.

"You're going down pathetic humans, for I am Minimax, the unstoppable scourge!" He declared.

Everyone stared at the two foot tall android slack jawed, until Varian gathered his wits about him and leveled the gun.

"No, you'll hurt him, remember!" Fred called out.

Varian relaxed his aim, unsure of what to do. This proved to be a mistake.

The tiny bot leapt at him and landed on the tip of the gun, his weight pushing the nozzle down to the ground and nearly ripping the weapon out of Varian's hands.

That was when chaos broke loose.

As Varian wrestled for control of the EMP away from Minimax, the rest of the ninjas attacked, along with any other nearby electronics.

Everyone fought back against the oncoming horde, each utilizing their various weapons, but they were soon overrun by sheer numbers.

The robots assaulted them from all sides and no one could predict who, what, and where the next attack would come.

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

As they fought, Baymax and Hiro found themselves separated from their friends. They were cornered next to the entrance. Baymax did his best to shield Hiro as the teenager tried to trip up the ninjas with his electromagnetic whips. Hiro wanted to fly away, but they couldn't catch a free moment to do so.

Suddenly Trina let out a high pitched whistle as Baymax punched another robot away, gaining their attention.

"Hey, Baymax!" She yelled, "Don't look now but here comes your ride!"

Before Hiro knew what was happening, Baymax picked him up and hurled him out of the way of an oncoming trolley. The tram slammed into Baymax and crashed into the glass doors of the station.

Hiro called after his robotic companion but he was stopped by a large metal hand closing around his arm and yanking him back.

"Oh no you don't. You're coming with me." And with that, Trina started to drag him away.

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

Varian finally kicked Minimax off of the EMP gun and turned around just in time to spot Hiro being kidnapped.

He raised his gun and took aim, only for Minimax to recover and return the kick.

The little robot was stronger than he looked and broke the gun in two with a snap.

Varian looked down at his destroyed weapon in horror, but he didn't have time to react because soon one of the robotic ninjas grabbed him by his shirt collar and lifted him off of the ground. He kicked and tried to squirm out the faceless attacker's grasp, but it was no use.

"Varian!" Honey Lemon called to him. She tossed him a chimball, which he grabbed and firmly lodged it into the robot's elbow joint. Pink bubbles began to spew from its arm, growing larger and larger as the foaming chemical reacted to the air. The ninja released him before being swallowed up by the goop.

Varian tried to catch his breath and desperately looked around the battlefield for his brother, but Hiro was gone.

[nolansnose]

To my moots: I did A THING. Wrote a lil something. A Nolpat imagine *gasps*

This is unfinished and I will only be updating this everytime Patty gets a point or better yet, score a goal!

Edited and rb'd because this has been updated!

(With added steam 🙈)

Summary: Surprise!

Nolan Patrick x whoever you wanna pair him with in your head

UNTITLED

They hadn't exchanged any kind of communication in three weeks. That kind of radio silence from both their ends wasn't normal. It has been a month since they saw each other last, they were both busy --- she with the endless demands and responsibilities of being the new executive assistant to the director of medical services while Nolan was training in preparation for the incoming season.

It amazes her how they were able to give each other attention in the past year and how they haven't given up on each other. It wasn't easy, it's daunting at times, at least for her.

For someone with such a demanding job and schedule, she truly couldn't figure out how she was able to give time to Nolan.

She didn't understand how someone like her was able to pique his interest or that he continued to give her attention, well, not until these past few weeks. She may be busy but during moments that she wasn't thinking about work, Nolan makes sudden, sometimes unwelcome appearances in her thoughts.

Unwelcome because she shouldn't be thinking about him. They're not... Argh! She sighed and put down the book she's trying so hard to understand in her lap. She's in an old cottage by the beach, alone for this long weekend, her first non work related trip after a long while since being appointed and she's alone. She should be relaxing, resting, eating sumptuous meals and reading this... Shit it was Nolan who gave her this book. Why did she pick this one to bring? She sighed again and tried for the nth time to relax in the couch she was perched on. She put her feet up in the arm rest and reached for the tea in the side table to drink but grimaced as its already cold.

As cold as the weather that wasnt apt for the place she was in. Beaches are made for warm, summery weather, not rain and cold drafts. She looked out the window and shook her head because it was still raining. The rain peltering the roof was loud and... what was that?

She heard something beside the raindrops. Footsteps. Rustling. Knocking? Was someone knocking?

But she wasn't expecting anyone.

Still, she stood up and headed for the kitchen which was near the parking area of the resort she was in. She clutched her chest when she saw another shadow beside the plants outside. Shit! A thief? But this was an exclusive resort!

She grabbed the fruit bowl in the counter and headed for the kitchen door. There was that sound again. Footsteps. And knocking.

She took a deep breath and raised the bowl above her head, ready to whack whoever was on the other side of that door. She unfastened the locks and opened the door.

"Fuck!", the 'intruder' called out and caught the bowl before it made contact with his face.

"Nolan?", she blinked.

The newcomer put down the bowl and raised the hood of his jacket. "Hi,"

"I thought you were a thief!"

Nolan looked at her with amusement. " I knocked but there was no answer."

"When was that? I didn't hear anything."

"Uh, five minutes ago?", he asked as he grabbed a clean towel out of the basket on the washing machine near the door. "May I?"

She exhaled loudly while moving away from the door so Nolan could dry his shoes in the mat and removed his jacket which was also wet.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. How did he even know she was here? Oh. Right. She remembered telling him about this weekend trip the last time they were together.

"I missed you," he said. "You didn't text or call."

"You never did, too," she pointed out.

"Hey, I called," he said with a bit of pain in his voice.

"When did you call?"

"Are you going to let me come in or do I have to defend myself by your kitchen door?"

2

"What's that for?", she asked having glanced at his backpack.

"Change of clothes. I've been in town for a few days, actually ", he replied honestly.

She gave him another quick look before going back to retrieve the cup of tea in the living room and brought it up in the kitchen to heat in the microwave. She felt his eyes on her while she set the timer.

"Chamomile?", Nolan asked just as he put down his already opened backpack in the kitchen counter and took out a clean pair of socks.

She didn't know whether to be irritated or happy that he remembered her preference. Normally, she'd appreciate it but now she felt cornered. Vulnerable. She came here to unwind, rest and think, -- to escape from all that's troubling her -- that included Nolan.

Yep, trouble. That's Nolan, alright. What else would you call the man who chose to entangle himself with someone like her? Even for a weekend, she wanted a break. She wanted him out of her head, her body and her bed.

"You still haven't answered why you're here," she took the mug out of the oven and set it on the counter. She caught the smirk on his face. "What?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Nolan took a step towards her and tenderly caressed her arm."Didn't you miss me?"

She looked up into his eyes to see a worry there she didn't normally see.

They've talked about their situation a handful of times before, where they're headed eventually. Together they've decided that its better if no one else knew whatever kind of relationship they were to have.

She can't remember exactly how that topic came about, but they wound up in bed together before defined lines were ever set.

This, whatever this was, has gone on for a year, a short time compared to others. She knew she shouldn't keep her hopes or expectations up, but sometimes, she gets tired of her feelings being hurt from a misunderstanding because nothing was solid or made public. Sometimes the feelings were his. Sometimes he acted jealous or frustrated because she behaved in a way that made him question the exclusivity they had agreed on a year ago.

"Not at all?" His low, lazy voice pulled her back from her thoughts.

She shook her head. "No."

He leaned into her some more, their closeness made her feel like she's drowning. "Liar."

Then his mouth met hers and she instinctively opened her mouth to allow his tongue to enter. He tasted sweet and salty like caramel popcorn. He satisfied every urge and each craving.

A whimper escaped her throat and he had her pushed against the counter with one hand in her hair as the other lifted her leg and grabbed her ass. He knew how to completely envelop her into a whirlwind of sex. It started out with a kiss as it always did.

And this kiss grew more fervent and she felt a familiar hardness push against her in just the right place. He made her feel sexy and desirable in a way that she revelled in. His kisses were addictive.

Its hard to reclaim her sanity everytime they ended up like this, like he drained whatever courage she had left. But before she could totally gave in, she held Nolan's arm firmly and pushed him away from her. He moaned a little as a protest but moved away and let her right herself.

The desire for her was evident in his eyes, in his jeans and she tried not to look but his scent, his kiss lingered. She was still dazed and her heart was beating wildly.

"What?" He asked as he touched the edge of his mouth.

"We can't continue this, Nolan", she insisted.

He shook his head. "We're not doing anything we haven't done bef----"

"No", she cut him off before he could finish his sentence. "This as in hiding. We thought it wont get this complicated given our work and who we are, we thought it'd be easy. None of this is easy, Nolan."

"Thank you for saying we, instead of you," he nodded as he answered. "Seriously. We both said this unofficial exclusive thing would be easy and a breeze and I'm glad you didn't pile the blame for your feelings just on me."

She looked at him carefully. Sometimes, his prankness still startled and overwhelmed her. She hoped and tried hard for its effect to not register on her face.

"Whoa," he said with one eyebrow raised when her gaze turned squinty. "Why are you looking at me like I just told you I'm getting married or something?"

"Let's end this, Nolan," she said in a faint voice, then grabbed the mug of tea again.

She felt him observing her eventhough her attention was on the tea she's drinking.

"You already said that four months ago."

"This time I meant it." She said in a voice lacking of conviction.

[wellthatjusthappend]

hey do you think you can write something where Dick is touch starved bc the members of the batfamily are not that into giving or receiving comforting touch like hugs so he's feeling awful and acting kind of distant with the other bats bc he doesn't really want to bug them by asking for a hug and it's Jason that notices something is wrong and ends up giving it to him

Dick being touch starved is my jam. Especially when I get to give him what he needs. 

Man, this prompt got away from me a little, I meant to do a small fill but, well, now you can read it here or on Ao3.

--

“What the hell is going on with Dickhead?” Jason grumbled. He’d totally cashed Jason’s case recently, and nearly bit off Jason’s head when he made a sarcastic quip. 

Usually, that meant that something had happened, but Jason had dug around after hadn’t found anything other than a slow and steady escalation of violence the last several weeks. Seemingly from no cause. 

There had to be something Jason was missing. Not that he cared or anything, but if Golden Boy was falling off the edge he needed to get ready. Or maybe he was just being nosy. Both were Bruce approved approaches. 

Jason frowned as on screen Dick let several punches land that he could have avoided and choose to punch back rather than use his sticks. 

“Ah, Dick is fasting again?” hummed Kori, coming to curl up next to Jason like a cat, her hair winding and winding itself around them in a way that still a little uncanny as it was soothing. 

“Fasting?” Jason asked with a frown, “Like, skipping meals and stuff?” 

“From love,” Kori corrected him, “and from touch. He needs it like food, but sometimes he chooses to deprive himself of both for long periods of time. He would get like this from time to time as a Titian. Quick to pick a fight and extra physical when he did… violence is the only touch he allows himself during this time, so he seeks it out constantly.”

That… tracked. 

“Yeah… Bruce would have us believe that none of us needed things like that,” Jason murmured, watching Dick wrestle another small time crook to the ground and punching him repeatedly. 

“But you know better now, don’t you?”

Sometimes. But other times… Jason could sympathize with Dick’s plight a little too easily, and physical touch wasn’t even his love language.

“How’d you used to get him to snap out of it?” Jason asked. 

“Make love to him all night long,” Kori replied, her eyes going distant. 

“Ah.” Jason knew he was flushing a bit. 

“Or, sometimes Wally or the others would insist on a movie night and coax him into a spot close between everyone’s bodies,” Kori said, a faint, sad smile on her face. 

That was probably no little feat when Dick was hellbent on acting like a mini Bruce. 

“Sounds nice,” he said, rather than unload all the mean and bitter commentary in his head. It wasn’t like he had someone to do that for him back then. 

“This is nice too,” Kori rested her head on his shoulder, “with you and Roy.”

“...Yeah. It is.”

*****

Jason couldn’t stop thinking about it as the week went on. How he ever ended up with nonviolent touch in his life and Dick didn’t, Jason didn’t know. 

Maybe that was why he was outside Dick’s doorstep now. 

“What?” Dick answered his door. He looked terrible; dark shadows under his eyes, his skin a little pasty. 

“No hello? I’m hurt Dickiebird.”

“Hello. What are you doing here?” Dick said, already looking annoyed. 

Jason wished he knew.

“Brought over some extra food. You look like you haven’t had anything but takeout in a while, so…. You want it?” Jason held up the bag to show him.

“You brought food,” Dick stated, looking suspicious, “Why?”

“I just said I made extra, keep up Dickhead,” Jason shot back.

He was no good at this. He should have just bothered Wally into visiting. Someone who could get away with a casual hug.

Jason was not much of a hugger, casual or otherwise. He wasn’t too touchy-feely in general and he didn’t know why he was there… but since he was there he wasn’t going to be driven away so easily. 

“Did Bruce send you here?” Dick demanded. 

“Bold of you to think Bruce can make me do anything,” Jason retorted.

Dick seemed to accept that. As he should. 

“Fine, whatever, just… you didn’t drug it, right?” Dick asked as he moved out of the way and let Jason inside.

“Who the fuck do you think I am, Alfred? If I was gonna drug you, I would slip it into your delivery, not some home cooked meal,” Jason scoffed.

It was really messy. It made Jason’s fingers itch for some cleaning supplies, but that wasn’t why he was there.

“Home cooked?” Dick’s eyebrows raised curiously.

“Curry,” Jason said, pulling out the containers from the bag in the little spot on the table not covered in case files, “I always thought it tasted better the day after anyway.”

“Did you make this?” Dick hesitantly came over, curiosity seeming to win out over defensive aggression.  

“Who else would have?” Jason rolled his eyes, “here, heat this up will you?”

He passed over a container of rice. Their fingers brushed and Dick’s hand spasmed for a moment. 

Jason didn’t comment. He knew what that was like. Going so long without any kind of touch that the slightest brush of skin felt like getting electrocuted. 

“Why me?” Dick asked, hurriedly turning his back to him and fiddling with the microwave.

Because you need it. 

“Oh, you know, if your ass gets any skinnier, the community will collapse on itself. Can’t have that,” Jason said breezily instead. 

“What a saint.” 

“Right? They should put me up in the little chapel on 5th St. I’ve already died and everything, I’m totally qualified,” Jason said, then changed the subject, “You have a toaster oven?”

“Why would I have a toaster oven?” Dick grumbled. 

“Because they’re damn useful? Never mind, I’ll just use the oven,” Jason said, nudging Dick out of the way so he could reach the nobs. It wouldn’t need too much, it was just to lightly heat the naan. 

“Are you eating here too?” Dick asked hesitantly. 

“Might as well, it’s dinner time,” Jason shrugged. 

Dick didn’t say anything to that. This time when Jason passed him the next container to heat, he didn’t flinch when their hands met, but he pulled away much more hesitantly. 

This part felt a little unnatural for Jason, because he… didn’t really let people touch him who weren’t super close to him. And he and Dick- they just weren’t. It wasn’t bad, per-say, just decidedly uncomfortable. 

He wasn’t planning to let that show though. 

Jason bullied Dick into bantering with him as they prepped the rest of the food, all the while finding reasons to brush up against him. Let their hips touch when he checked the heat on the food, a hand on Dick’s arm to move him out of the way to open the oven, steading his hands as he stacked plates and utensils into his arms. 

Dick was mostly past the shockieness and onto the needy phase by the time they got to actually eating the food. It felt a little manipulative to sit down right next to him on the couch while they ate so their legs and arms could casually brush every now and then. 

The nice thing was that Jason didn’t have to initiate anymore. Now that Dick had figured out that he wasn’t going to be pushed away and that Jason was pretending not to notice, he was pressing close with every possible excuse. As he did, he chattered away about this and that, a slight nervous jiggle of his leg. 

It was strange, like watching someone slowly come alive again. Like a dry plant perking up at the first taste of water. Jason wanted to somehow give him even more, but he didn’t know how. So he just stayed close.

Dick didn’t ask him to leave when they finished their food, so he didn’t. 

Jason turned on the TV.

It was funny, Dick’s commentary slowly started to die down as his eyes started to drupe. 

“Maybe I really should have drugged you food, when’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?” Jason noted, reaching over to touch his forehead. He was a little warm, but not too bad. 

“When’s the last time you did?” Dick shot back, but his eyes dropped closed under his hand and he didn’t push him away. 

It felt a little too intimate for Jason though, so he pulled away. Dick swayed forward a little when he moved, like a part of him want to chase his touch. 

He probably did. 

Jason looked away and shrugged, trying to remember what they had been talking about. Sleep. Right. 

“I actually do these days, Roy or Kori kick my butt if I don’t,” he said. 

“They take good care of you,” Dick said softly. 

“They do,” Jason agreed, his chest feeling a little warm at the thought. 

“Good,” Dick said, his expression distant as he turned back to the TV. 

Jason wondered if he missed them, but didn’t ask. Dick couldn’t have burned those bridges any better if he’d tried. 

They watched TV silently for a while, Dick’s finger tracing patterns on his own leg, back and forth and back and forth. 

Jason felt an impulse to grab his hand, but pushed it down. That wasn’t them. Roy and Kori must have been rubbing off on him. 

When Dick’s motions stopped, Jason glanced over and snickered when he found that he had dozed off. When he started to tip, Jason raised his arm so he would settle against his side instead of tipping forward and jerking awake. 

He didn’t know why he did it- since it effectively trapped him for however long Dick was asleep- and he told himself that it was because Dick needed the sleep, which he did, but-

Dick made a soft little sound as he positively melted against him, even in sleep. It was such a fragile thing, so relieved, just on the edge of broken… it made Jason’s chest ache. 

He let him sleep. 

Jason might not be able to bury him in a pile of close friends or make love to him all night or whatever, but… he could do this.

He hesitantly carded his fingers through Dick’s hair and watched him lean into the touch desperately, lips parting in a content sigh.  

Maybe for this, Jason could be enough.

[ohdaim]

april fool's day oneshot

hi guys, i wrote this today in one sitting, and it's lazily edited:) i'm recovering from an oral surgery and on strong medication, so i hope this makes as much sense as i think it does.

Ship: Ignis Scientia/female reader Summary: You are a Citadel valet working the night shift, frequently attending to Ignis' car. You have no idea how to talk to him. He has no idea how to ask for your number. Words: 1849 idk if this is considered fluff or just mutual pining but with like,, idiots

__

Stir together bread crumbs, garlic, parsley…

You scanned the rest of the newest recipe on your favorite cooking blog, Feeding The Fussy. As always, it looked delicious. As always, you rated it five stars and typed out a comment.

I followed the recipe exactly, but I left out the bread crumbs and cheese. I used shrimp and bacon grease instead. Terrible recipe. Won’t make again.

Putting your phone away, you came to attention when someone stepped out of a Citadel elevator across the lobby. You worked night shift as a palace valet and hardly saw anyone but for a few regular night owls. One of them approached now, and gods, you were nervous all of a sudden.

Ignis was your favorite regular. He was polite, tipped well, and made small talk so you wouldn't have to. You didn’t know what he did in the Citadel or why he so often left at four in the morning. You just knew you had a big crush on him and, for that reason, could never carry a full conversation without getting sweaty palms.

“Good morning.” He greeted you first. “Quiet night?”

You nodded, entering the info you needed to check his vehicle out of the system. You wanted to say something, anything. Nerves got the best of you, and you excused yourself into the back room to get his car keys. On your way out, you held them up. “I’ll have your car here momentarily.”

Ignis didn’t respond. He wasn’t even looking at you. His attention was on his phone, a corner of his mouth curled upward.

You paused, taking in the smirk with shy curiosity. That was a new look. What was he smirking at? When he seemed to remember himself, he schooled the look and met your eyes. Startling, you repeated yourself quietly and went through the doors leading to the parking garage.

Ignis’ car consistently smelled like coffee wrapped in leather. Your phone vibrated in your pocket as you buckled in. Because you wanted to linger in the nice scent--was this extremely weird? Yes, of course--you checked to see what the buzzing was about.

An email. You’d gotten a reply from the Feeding The Fussy chef. They’d liked your comments in the past but hadn’t addressed your obvious jokes. You stared at the subject line for a beat, then opened the message.

Thank you for the review. Almost as insightful as last week’s eight hundred word description of your current diet and how my recipes conflict. Do you have any suggestions on how to improve this one?

Your nervousness grew so heavy, it burst in bright red over your face, a flame in your chest. The chef was talking to you. You’d chalked it up to luck that they understood your sense of humor and the intent of your comments. Never had you thought they’d give more than a like. You typed a response before getting back to work.

Pro tip: Using a microwave is faster than the oven. Also, I’ve begun a new diet (details to follow), so is there any way to make this recipe without the ingredients?

Ignis’ car was fancy but less so than most others in the garage. You always felt a pinch of regret when pulling it up to the lobby entrance. Driving a car like his just to see how fast it could go, it wasn’t something you’d ever get to do. You didn’t own one yourself, and truthfully, you'd only gotten a driving license to be qualified for this job. Getting out, you waved at Ignis and extended an arm toward the open driver’s seat.

Tip passing from his hand to your own, you bowed and tucked the money into a pocket. He thanked you, getting into his car. You waited for him to drive away, likely the last person you’d see this shift.

“Ah, pardon me,” Ignis startled you by climbing back out, the car door hanging open. He held something out to you. “I believe you dropped this.”

You looked at your phone in his hand, your eyes wide, nervousness becoming embarrassment. Quickly grabbing it, you bowed again. “Sorry.”

Ignis chuckled. “It’s quite alright. Good thing I noticed when I did.”

Nodding emphatically, you wished he’d just go before you humiliated yourself further.

Clearly not reading your mind, he lingered a moment longer. “In truth, I--”

“Have a good day, sir.” You didn’t mean to interrupt him and hadn’t expected him to say more.

He cleared his throat and smiled. “Same to you.” Thanking you again, by name this time, he left.

Back in the quiet lobby, you put his tip with the rest you’d made that night. You sat behind the desk and buried your face in your hands. The sting of feeling stupid in front of Ignis was abated by the underlying excitement that came from talking to the chef you admired.

They specialized in meals for picky eaters, which you were. They used clear directions, so they could be followed by an amateur chef, which you really were. They sometimes added personal anecdotes spiced with sarcasm and dry jokes to the recipe’s background, which made you feel safe to comment. You refrained from checking your inbox, content to wait until you were home to see if they’d replied yet.

Two attendants arrived for the day shift, and as you hitched the strap of your bag over a shoulder, readying to leave, one of them told you to wait.

“You should pick up a new nametag before your next shift.”

Glancing down at your uniform, you remembered you’d lost yours several days ago. “Oh, right. I will.”

You stepped into an elevator, pressing the button for the metro station level. New nametag. Dumb. You had your work badge but still required a tag. How else would the Citadel inhabitants know who to thank for fetching their expensive cars? You rolled your eyes at the thought, already annoyed. You’d have to come to work early to pick it up. Was it too soon to quit and attend culinary school? You needed to make a bit more money first. Ignis tipped large bills, but still, it’d take years of picking his car up every morning before you could afford tuition.

Grinning to yourself, you weaved through the incoming morning crowds and boarded a train home. It had felt nice, hearing Ignis say your name on his way out. He was the only person who ever addressed you, so maybe getting a new tag was worth it for that alone. Ignis was just-- He truly-- You really liked when he came down, that was all.

It didn’t strike you for another several hours, as you filled out the online request for a new Citadel employee nametag, that Ignis must’ve remembered your name. You supposed a great memory was probably just another part of his polite demeanor. That’s what you told yourself, at least, to keep your crush from growing. You didn’t even know the man.

You attempted the chef’s latest recipe, and as it cooled, you--very casually and not nervously at all--checked to see if they’d replied.

I’ll keep that tip in mind. As for your question, I recommend the following replacement recipe: brew a cup of coffee or tea, sit somewhere comfortable, and enjoy the beverage knowing your comments haunt me whenever I cook.

You read and reread the message, then laughed into a hand. Worth the wait. You ate a bite directly from the dish on your counter, huffing through the fresh heat with mild regret. They deserved a genuine review after such honesty, but it seemed you were doing little more than burning the roof of your mouth. So you took a picture of the food, offering a thumbs up with one hand in frame, and sent it as a reply.

The next night you worked, Ignis arrived much earlier than expected--before midnight, no less. He was coming in rather than going out. Another man was with him, someone blonde and unfamiliar. Ignis opened the back to retrieve something, turning you down when you offered to get it for him. The blonde man, his smile sincere but awkward, complimented your shoes.

“Thanks.” You didn’t really know what to say. People chatting with you was uncommon.

“They match your uniform’s tie… thing.” The blonde man was red in the face. Someone needed to tell him he didn’t have to make small talk. You were just a valet. He persisted, his smile broad. “It’s nice, y’know. You’re, like, coordinated and stuff.”

“Prompto.” Ignis closed the back and proffered a piece of luggage toward the other man. “Leave her be.” When the man took the bag from him, Ignis gave you the car keys. “I apologize for my friend. He can’t contain himself around beautiful women. Add inebriation, and he’s a lost cause.”

You gripped the keys tightly, taking in everything with a slow nod. Yes, of course, right. All of that made sense. Ignis was bringing a drunk friend into the palace. Normal Ignis stuff.

“Do you think Cor’s gonna be mad at me?” the blonde asked Ignis, walking backwards from the car toward the lobby doors. “Iggy, what if Cor gets mad at me?”

Ignis rolled his eyes, a hand checking his inner jacket. “A tad late to worry about that. Go directly to the barracks and try to sleep it off.”

“Where are the barracks again?”

Ignis’ chest broadened with a sigh, and he left the guy hanging. Withdrawing a money clip, he held it out to you. “For your trouble.”

You hesitated taking it. The outer bill appeared to be 1,000 yen, and it was several notes thick… More than the usual tip. You took it slowly, fingertips brushing his leather covered palm, and murmured a quiet thanks.

Ignis remained, his hand lifting to brush loose strands of hair out of his face. He wasn’t as put together as you were used to. Your eyes trailed downward, now noticing the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. Huh.

He cleared his throat and began, “There’s something I--”

“C’mon, Iggy!” The blonde man held one of the entrance doors wide open. “If I knew Cor was gonna be mad anyway, I would’ve stayed at Noct’s.”

Ignis gave you a hasty farewell, already walking away to push the blonde man through the door. They disappeared inside, leaving an awkward wake of silence. You settled into Ignis’ coffee-and-leather scented car, a realization hitting you late, as they tended to do. Had Ignis implied you were beautiful? You didn’t entertain the thought for long. Ignis was a professional, royal something-or-other. He would never. You were reading too much into it. Surely.

On the walk from Ignis’ parking spot back to the lobby, you checked for the latest message from the chef. You’d boldly given them your number in a DM when the comment thread became unbearably long. You hadn’t held out hope of receiving a message and read their initial text at least ten times in disbelief before responding and saving the number.

Was this a new friendship? You hoped so.

[hallowxiu]

Human Realm Delicacy

word count: 2.1k

summary: A thought pops into your head, and suddenly you have the urge to give the characters your favorite human world food.

a/n: this is pretty much just crack, but i got this idea in my head some time last week and i needed to write it lol

mc is gender neutral btw 

“Please?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Your cooking is horrific.” Alright, he sure isn’t holding back his thoughts today, you find yourself thinking.

“But it’s a human delicacy!” You stomp your foot on the ground, hands planted on your hips as you stubbornly stare up at the eldest demon. “Let me cook it for you! It’s all the rave with the humans! They love it! I bet Luke and Lord Diavolo would enjoy it too.” Maybe not Barbatos, but you decide to keep that to yourself. Lucifer’s looking at you with a look full of doubt.

“If you give Lord Diavolo food poisoning, I will make sure that I end your entire bloodline.”

“Deal!”

Lucifer sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t make deals so easily with demons.” He chides lightly. “And there was nothing to make a deal on, we didn’t agree to anything.”

“We did!” You immediately argue back. “I agreed to make a dish from the human realm and you agreed to end my entire bloodline if I poison Lord Diavolo.” Lucifer’s eye is twitching in annoyance but he decides to lay the matter to rest. He knew you could be just as stubborn, if not more stubborn, than his brothers and talking you out of your idea would be nearly impossible, even if he did bring up punishment methods in an attempt to intimidate you. You watch in triumph as Lucifer turns and walks away, muttering colorful words under his breath.

👽👽👽

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve gathered all of you here today.” You’re talking to an empty room. “Well, don’t worry! The answer is staring you right in your face.” It’s really a shame that no one can see the smug look of confidence on your face. You were also in your pajamas at the dining room table. That alone would earn you a scolding from Lucifer or Satan.

You were currently practicing the reveal of your… delicacy , to the brothers, the angels, Solomon, and Lord Diavolo and Barbatos. Although you could have spent this time preparing your dish, you thought presentation was also an essential part to a good meal. You were convinced none of them, with the exception of maybe Solomon, had tried this dish before, so you needed it to be perfect.

“What’s happening?” Beelzebub asks as he walks into the kitchen, opening the fridge to rummage for food. “Who are you talking to?” You feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment and freeze in place. Maybe if you stay still long enough he’ll forget you’re there. A few seconds of silence pass and just as you’re starting to think you got lucky, Beelzebub walks up beside you, staring at the empty table as he snacks on some food. “Are you feeling okay?” He looks over at you with a quirked eyebrow. “I don’t see anyone at the table.”

You close your eyes and inhale deeply before looking up at the red headed demon. “I’m practicing my presentation skills.” There wasn’t a point in lying, not after getting caught talking to yourself. You feel a sheepish smile form on your lips as you rock on the heels of your feet. You figured that out of all the demons you lived with, having Beelzebub be the one to walk in on you was for the best. You’re pretty sure Lucifer or Satan would have immediately lectured you on lack of sleep, and you think you’d get questioning glances from everyone else. “Lucifer probably told everyone by now, but I plan on cooking everyone a human dish and I want the presentation for it to be perfect. It enhances the experience, after all.” You nod firmly to yourself as if to confirm your own words.

“He did tell us.” There’s a look of excitement on his face and his stomach begins to growl at the mere thought of whatever dish you’d be cooking up for them. “I’m excited. It’s a special treat when you’re able to cook for us.”

You look up at him with a quizzical look. “Really? Because Lucifer said my cooking was, quote on quote, horrific.” He shrugs his shoulders in response before turning around and walking back to the fridge.

“It’s still better than Solomon’s though.”

👽👽👽

You scan the aisles of the market as you push your shopping cart, your eyes scanning the shelves for your special ingredients. You didn’t need a ton of ingredients, but maybe the brothers and other guests would appreciate some side dishes. At least, you knew Beelzebub would anyway. “How long do ya have to take? I have plenty of other things I could be doin’ right now!” You turn around to look at Mammon sulking behind you, hands buried deep in his pockets as he looks around with an uninterested expression.

“I didn’t invite you.” You gently remind the second eldest. “You invited yourself, insisting that I, a human, need guiding in the human realm.” You see a blush tint his cheeks and you chuckle to yourself quietly. “You can always head back if you want. I know my way around.”

“Are ya kiddin’ me? Lucifer would have my head on a stick if I left ya wandering around on your own.” The demon grumbles under his breath and catches up with you so that he’s walking by your side. “What do ya even plan on makin’ anyway?” He looks down into the almost empty shopping cart. “There’s not much in there. Ya couldn’t have found this stuff back home?”

“Nope!” Is your response as you continue to push the cart. “I mean, the Devildom might have something similar to what I’m making, but it wouldn’t be the same. You need the authentic human dish.” You send a wink in his direction, the white haired boy blushing and looking away from you, grumbling under his breath once again. You glance down at the several bags of frozen food in your cart, your lips pressed into a thin line as you think to yourself. You really only needed one bag as your dish didn’t require a lot of ingredients, but with Beelzebub to count for, you would need to double what you were making. Other than that, you were pretty sure you were done shopping for the day. “Honestly, I think we’re done.”

Mammon perks up at this, leaning into your side as he gazes down into the cart. “It looks… interestin’. Is this really enough for everyone?” He picks up the bag of frozen food, shaking it in his hands slightly. “It sounds… small. Is Lucifer going to be okay with this? Looks greasy.”

You snatch the bag from his hands, putting it back into the shopping cart. “As long as I don’t accidentally poison Lord Diavolo I won’t get into any trouble. He can dislike the food all he wants.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders. “I’m sure at least Luke and Beelzebub will enjoy them. I think Belphegor might like it too; oh- Leviathan will definitely enjoy them. I’d be surprised if he didn’t already try them before.” You snap your fingers at the thought of the third eldest. You were feeling more and more confident by the minute.

“How do ya make them?” Mammon asks with peaked interest as you two make your way to the express check out.

“Uh, you can just shove them in the oven or microwave, maybe a toaster oven.”

“And it doesn’t take long to make?”

“Not really. It’s pretty simple.”

“I like this already.” Mammon says with a toothy grin.

👽👽👽

You stand at the end of the table proudly, gazing at everyone’s plates while everyone looks at you curiously. “So? What do you think?” Your hands are on your hips as you look on with a grin. “Smells good, right?” Solomon has his face buried in his hands and Leviathan’s looking at you in amusement. “Hey, come on! Don’t be shy; I slaved away making these!”

“Slaved away? Ya just popped these in the oven and called it a day.” Mammon snorts as he pushes the food around on his plate with a finger. “They’re too hot! I’m gonna burn my tongue, human!”

“Then blow on it! It’s part of the experience anyway.” You mutter under your breath, an annoyed expression on your face.

“Burning your tongue is part of the experience?” This time it’s Lord Diavolo who speaks, looking down at the food curiously. “Humans never fail to amaze me! You guys are so funny.”

“What’s it called?” Simeon asks as he looks at you from where he’s sitting. “They’re so tiny and cute. Heat packets.”

“Are you asking if they’re called heat packets or are you describing them as heat packets?” Luke asks the other angel with a raised eyebrow.

“They’re called pizza rolls.” Solomon responds with a distraught look on his face, Leviathan snickering as he nods his head in agreement with Solomon.

“They’re little pockets of death, but they’re delicious.” Leviathan says before popping one into his mouth. “Your mouth goes numb after a while, so the burning doesn’t hurt anymore. That is, if you can’t wait for them to cool off, anyway.” He comments while he watches Beelzebub down the entire plate of pizza rolls.

“They’re too small.” The redhead complains. “But I like how they taste. Like pizza, but small and round.”

“You just described what they’re called.” Belphegor snorts while pushing his plate towards his twin, the brother happily accepting the offer.

“It’s too greasy. It’s terrible for my skin!” Asmodeus has a look of disgust on his face as he pushes his plate towards Beelzebub as well. “And since you didn’t technically make them, I don’t feel bad about saying that.” You roll your eyes from the blond’s comment, though you weren’t surprised by this outcome. You figured he wouldn’t like it due to the grease. You look over at Satan who seems to share the same opinions as his younger brother. A sudden gasp and pained moan grabs your attention, your gaze landing on Mammon.

“It- it fuckin’- it’s so hot!” He’s fanning at his mouth as tears form at the corners of his eyes, the demon trying to cool off his mouth.

“LMAO! You look like such a normie!” Leviathan cackles as he pulls out his D.D.D, more than likely updating one of his social media accounts on the incident. “You need to finish chewing it if you want it to stop burning! You need to swallow the food!” Mammon shoves the plate of food away from him hastily as he jerks out of his seat, grabbing his cup and chugging down the water.

“Well, you definitely provided us with free entertainment.” Asmodeus giggles as he looks over at you with a wink. You huff and plop yourself down in one of the empty seats, pushing at the pizza rolls that sit on your plate. You were hoping this would’ve been more of a success, but at least Beelzebub seemed to enjoy the food.

“I think they’re great!” Luke says enthusiastically, and you’re wondering if the small angel sensed you were feeling a little down about the outcome. Regardless, you couldn’t deny how cute the boy looked as he happily ate the food in front of him, his feet swinging from his chair.

“I also think it’s quite interesting.” Lord Diavolo says with a wide smile, half his plate empty. Interesting doesn’t quite mean good, you think to yourself as you lean back in your chair. Someone clearing their throat makes you look back over at the demon who’s sitting across from you. Lucifer looks unimpressed, but you notice that his plate is cleaned off.

“Did you like them, Lucifer?” You ask and lean forward, a smile on your lips as you inspect his plate.

“It was greasy.” Is all he comments, laying his napkin down on the table. You look around the table, mentally noting that besides Lucifer, only Beelzebub finished his plate completely while the others were still working on it (with the exception of Belphie, who fed his to Beel, and Asmodeus and Satan who were not amused, and Mammon who was downing as much water as he could). You think that’s a good sign, but you’re not sure.

“I’m just glad you finished it.” You say and lean back in your seat. “My cooking isn’t that bad after all, right Lucifer?”

“Shoving food in an oven doesn’t count as cooking.” The man snorts as he gets up from his seat. “But since you’re so keen on being today’s chief, you won’t mind cleaning up all the dishes then, right?” There’s a playful smirk on his lips, but one that tells you not to argue with him. So much for wowing everyone with your human realm delicacy.

[vickyvicarious]

Eliot sweet talking Nana into sharing her secret family recipes so he can get more vegetables into both Hardison and Parker.

I was just going to write a short headcanon post about this but then the first line popped into my mind along with a line about Eliot utilizing his retrieval skills, and then next thing I knew this was a fic. First in this fandom so go easy on me.

(AO3 link.)

.

The carrot cake was the final straw.

Eliot knew his partners had terrible diets, okay? It was impossible for anyone to miss that, the way Hardison would just fill up any empty space in any fridge with orange soda, or Parker would get more cereal than was physically possible to store in the cupboard until there was at least one box permanently sitting on the table. He was well aware, and he’d been taking steps for a while to deal with matters.

He bought Hardison a fridge of his own - a mini fridge - and just poured out any soda he found anywhere else. He impressed upon Parker that just this shelf was for cereal and solemnly swore to her that he would never let it get beyond half-empty before filling it again. In the meantime, he filled the rest of his kitchen with actual ingredients, and always had a bowl of fruit out so they would have something healthy as an easy-to-grab snack. He didn’t put anything Parker liked hidden on a high shelf, because she’d find that fun; just small decoy portions while he kept most of his chocolate inside an old Wheat Thins box at the back of the cracker shelf. Speaking of chips, if he opened the bag of a good brand, then Hardison would gravitate toward it once he’d finished his Cheetos instead of going out to buy more, so that was just a matter of letting him buy one bag and then watching the level and timing when to get the other stuff out.

They both ate meat well enough, though Hardison liked to put in requests for absolutely sacrilegious misuses of various cuts; when Eliot humored him and actually destroyed his fish or brisket or whatever else as requested, he actually did seem to enjoy it, which was... very wrong, and disappointing, but at least the food was still going in his body. Parker quite liked some types of pasta now, and she seemed to enjoy when he put effort into plating things up nicely, but she was still a work in progress on any actual mealtime like a family (or a date. Not that Eliot hadn’t had to eat on the run plenty of times before, but - he’d had to. You don’t walk in to a table set for multiple healthy, delicious, innovative courses he’d been cooking for hours and then just grab bites as you wander around the room! He’d had wine out! Norah Jones playing softly in the background! No candles because he wasn’t an idiot, but it was clearly a romantic meal! What the hell kind of untrained toddler behaviour-).

Breakfast was easy, since they both liked eggs and there were a lot of ways to go from there. Breakfast potatoes were a hit too, and bacon, and they’d even eat oatmeal if he smothered it in sugar so that was something. For lunch, Hardison at least appreciated a good sandwich. Granted, usually only a stolen one because he didn’t like to make any kind of food at all that didn’t come out of a plastic package with microwave instructions on the side (and that had been an argument for the ages, the microwave one. Frankly most things could be heated better on a pan or in an oven, and those that were meant for the microwave were usually mass-produced garbage Hardison really didn’t need in his diet, but he disagreed vehemently and in the end that was one battle Eliot had definitively lost), but once Eliot caught on, he just started making double whatever he ate. Parker scoffed at the idea of lunch, for some reason, claiming that a granola bar or a brownie would get her through till dinner, but if he packed a lunchbox to look interesting and then gave it to her, she’d usually eat it. He just stocked up on bento boxes and made various kinds of colorful and/or childish looking foods and they came back mostly empty so that was good enough.

(Hardison claimed to have gotten jealous about it. Eliot was pretty certain he was making fun of him, so obviously he said he’d be caught dead before packing a lunch for him. He was a grown man and could do it himself.

“She’s a grown woman!” he complained, pointing at Parker, who was sitting perched on the back of an armchair nibbling away at her kraken bento - black noodle limbs, gyoza face, and grabbing a little egg scuba diver. “Sh-she should have to - this is discrimination!”

“Stay away from my octopus,” she squinted menacingly. When Hardison just glared mulishly back, she hugged the food closer to her chest. “It’s not for you, this is my little dead man.”

She popped the egg into her mouth and chewed, never breaking eye contact.

He turned back to Eliot to complain some more, but apparently that was only an attempt to fake her out, because he tried to grab the gyoza barehanded and she screeched, flinging her chopsticks at his face before fleeing across the room. Noodles got everywhere, Hardison had two little round bruises on his cheek the next morning, and somehow Eliot wound up packing everyone lunches every morning after that, and putting notes on them to label who each one went to.

He did not put sappy notes instead the boxes. He wasn’t their parent, okay. The notes inside the lunch were only ever reminders they needed for the con, like Parker’s character’s peanut allergy and how she needed to have the attack exactly two minutes after the mark joined her at the break table, or for Hardison to lock Lucille II behind him because even if he could track down someone who took off in her, he really shouldn’t have to again.)

Anyway, Eliot had something of a system down at this point. It wasn’t perfect, but it was workable for the most part. The one exception was vegetables, which they both hated. He’d tried to hide them several times, but they often picked them out or he just couldn’t stand to puree broccoli into a little garnish/dip just because his girlfriend and boyfriend were both giant babies about actually eating them whole. He had to eat the food too, and he enjoyed himself some veggies like any sane person would. They ate the ones hidden in their lunches almost half of the time, and sometimes other varieties, so he tried not to focus on that too much. Baby steps, he thought. First regular meals at all, then vegetables later.

But the carrot cake.

That was just too much.

It was cake. It was covered in cream cheese frosting. Carrot cake wasn’t anything but decadent, at least not the way Eliot made it for Hardison’s birthday. It was sweet, had just the right texture from the roasted pecans, the perfect hint of cinnamon and ginger. Not a complicated dish by any means, but pretty well near perfect, in Eliot’s no goddamn need to be humble opinion.

Hardison scrunched up his nose.

“Oh,” he said, not accepting the large slice Eliot tried to give him. “Eliot, I’m hoping this is a joke and you have my Red Velvet in the fridge?”

Parker let him hand her the plate, ate a bite, spat it out, then just started eating straight frosting off all the sides.

Eliot could feel his hands twitching. He very carefully set down the knife.

“What’s wrong with my cake?” he asked. Gave them the benefit of the doubt, and tried a bite: delicious.

“I mean... it’s a carrot cake,” Hardison said delicately, as though Eliot had made some kind of mistake and he felt a little bad pointing it out to him.

“So?”

“Carrot, Eliot.”

“Cake, HARDISON.”

“I like the frosting,” Parker interjected, and Eliot glanced over to her. She’d moved on from her own plate and was just scraping fingerfuls of frosting directly off the top of the cake. His cake. His cake for Hardison’s birthday, his beautiful cake -

“Babe, we love you but you gotta know vegetables don’t have any place in a dessert, that’s just wrong. C’mon, you really didn’t make me something else? Really?”

“THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” Eliot bellowed and stormed out of the apartment. He took the cake with him.

.

He brought it to Sophie and Nate, since they were in town and they weren’t insane like some people he knew.

“People you’ve, uh, chosen to dedicate the rest of your life to,” Nate pointed out around a mouthful. “I mean, you knew what they were like.”

“Oh, hush, Nate, don’t you get it? They’ve hurt Eliot’s feelings,” Sophie explained. She ate another bite, hummed approvingly, then waved her fork around to emphasize her words: “For Eliot, food is life. He wants them to lead long and healthy lives, he wants to live with them and show his love for them and keep them safe, and they just rejected that. It’s not all about the vegetables, y’know?”

Eliot was never sure whether he loved Sophie best or least of all.

“It’s definitely all about the vegetables,” he said, crossing his arms. The pair of them exchanged a look and then smiled at him warmly, like he’d just done something cute.

“Fine! Forget it,” he snarled, pushing himself roughly to his feet.

Behind him, Nate grunted the distinctive grunt of someone receiving a pointy elbow to the side, then cleared his throat.

“Okay, okay - wait! Wait, all right, I might have one idea.” When he turned back, Nate was rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “You’ve tried featuring the veggies, right, and hiding them. I’m sure you’ve lectured them both to death about why they should be eating more vegetables, but that’s not going to work on them, is it, because there’s no connection there. Ad novitam is only going to get you so far, you need the, the personal touch, a little ad misericordiam if you will.”

“I am not telling them it makes me sad when they don’t eat their greens,” Eliot said firmly.

“But it does,” Sophie said lightly. She met his glare with a soft smile, and popped another bite of cake into her mouth.

“N- Well, no, obviously, but you’ve got to think it through, Eliot. Step away from the situation. How can you imbue the food itself with emotion? Not for you -” Nate spoke a little louder as Eliot started to answer, “you’re not our mark here. What kind of food, with vegetables, is going make them feel an emotional connection?”

Eliot subsided, frowning down at his own plate. That... was actually a pretty good point.

“Hm, my favorite is still that little restaurant in Paris, with the exquisite quiche. But, I suppose hard-scrambled eggs are a bit of a guilty pleasure,” Sophie mused. “Mum was never any good at cooking.”

“You too?” Nate turned to her. “Yeah, my dad could set water on fire. I remember eating from my meal plan at college - the cafeteria, mind you - thinking how good the food was in comparison.”

The solution clicked into place. (Of course it did, they’d practically hand-fed it to him.)

Eliot stood up and grabbed his coat.

“Oh, are you leaving, Eliot?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and turned back to smirk at them. “I’m gonna go steal Hardison’s childhood.”

.

Once upon a time, Eliot had been a retrieval specialist. You name it, he got it back. Sometimes it was actually a they or even a them, on occasion. He’d committed arson for a pair of scissors, had gathered up a scatted set of Fabergé eggs from seven different countries and two different mafias, had traveled more than once through airport security with a live frog in his pants. The business was a strange one, but he’d been the best at it. And in the years since he left, his life hadn’t exactly gotten less weird; Leverage saw to that.

Breaking into an old woman’s home and stealing a book of recipes would be easier than taking candy from a baby. Of course, Hardison made sure to keep his Nana safe, and from everything he’d heard she could certainly take care of herself, but still it wouldn’t be any great challenge for Eliot to just break in and take what he wanted. He could do it and leave without her ever knowing he’d even been there.

He rang the doorbell, and gave her his best smile when it swung open.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Eliot. Can I come in?”

(This was Hardison’s Nana, he’d never do wrong by her like that. Anyway, it wouldn’t even work. For this he needed her direct input.)

Nana was a short, soft-looking woman. Her hair was pushed back with a purple headband, and she wore loose comfortable pants and a clearly old t-shirt covered in child-sized paint handprints. She exuded a sort of maternal air that had Eliot relaxing into the visit almost despite himself. They’d only ever spoken on the phone, and he’d admittedly felt a little awkward about his plan due to that detail alone. He knew Hardison would love for them to meet her, but it just hadn’t happened yet - honestly, Eliot had been reluctant before, worried that she would find him wanting, and he’d always been relieved that no plans had crystallized into anything solid.

Certainly, despite welcoming him in and getting them all set up on the couch with home-made lemonades, it was clear she felt suspicious. A few minutes in, she dropped the small talk altogether to pin Eliot with a steely glare.

“I’m fairly certain Alec wanted to be here when we met so he could brag some more about how hot his partners are,” she said, making Eliot flush. “And I’m just as certain nothing has happened to him, or it wouldn’t be you here to tell me, so that just leaves me confused.”

She raised an eyebrow, letting him take his time responding.

He looked down at his lap. Ran a hand through his hair, feeling... not less confident that he’d get those recipes by the end of this visit, but certainly more bashful about it.

“Uh. Yes ma’am,” he said. Quickly corrected himself, remembering her insistence over the phone, “uh, Nana. See, he doesn’t actually... know I’m here...”

“I’d guessed as much,” she said wryly.

“Right. Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. There’s something I want to do for him - well, for them - but I need your help to do it right.”

She stared him down a moment longer. Then her eyes widened, and she sat back in her seat with a little gasp, hand over her heart.

“Oh, Eliot,” she said warmly, leaning forward again to grab his hand and hold it between hers, “Oh, sweet boy, of course he’ll say yes. You should hear the way he talks about you, Alec’s been head over heels for years. I may not have met Parker personally, but I’m sure she will too. You don’t have anything to worry about, trust me on that.”

“What?” he croaked. “I... w-what?”

His voice broke in his throat. He wanted to yank away but he felt frozen in place. He didn’t understand how she’d - okay, no, he could easily see how she would draw the wrong conclusions from this situation, but they were the wrong conclusions! He’d never even considered marriage since Aimee, let alone proposing to Parker and Hardison. It wasn’t like a three-way marriage was even legal, and even if it were he would never. It was too much - not too much commitment, he’d already promised the rest of his life to them both, but still too much, somehow. He’d never dare.

“I know Alec doesn’t think too much of the institution in general,” Nana said, waving a dismissive hand, “but if you do he’ll understand that. He might not need it but he won’t say no if you ask, hon. I can promise you that.”

Eliot meant to deny the very idea. Instead what came out of his mouth was a shaky:

“...Are you sure?”

.

Hardison’s Nana - his Nana too, she insisted, even after Eliot finally managed to clear up the misunderstanding - was truly a gem of a woman. He could see so much of who Hardison had turned out to be in her kindness, her cleverness, her sense of humor. She’d broken out the picture albums for him, and had even kindly let him keep one photo of a gaptoothed little Alec in a horrible bowl cut, grinning proudly and brandishing a blue ribbon next to his science project. To Eliot’s complete lack of surprise, he’d won every year with zero competition from his peers.

(He told her that he wanted the picture to make fun of Hardison with. It was true, but she still just patted him on the shoulder and told him to keep it. Didn’t say a word when he tucked it into his wallet with unnecessary care.)

They talked for a long time. She gave him a journal to copy directly from her personal recipe book, a lovely clothbound thing spattered with grease and burnt at one edge, smelling of spices and old paper; clearly well used. She told him it was passed down from her mother, who’d put in lots of her mother’s recipes. Eliot took notes as she talked him through every one. He had a good memory but he didn’t want to miss a thing, and her recipes as written were bare bones. He could cook a delicious meal from them easily enough, but it wouldn’t have her heart in it, not like what he wanted to make.

Just talking could only do so much, and eventually they found themselves in the kitchen, demonstrating techniques and favored spice blends. It was nice, just in and of itself. Eliot rarely got to talk shop with other cooks, and it had been a long time since he’d eaten anything home-made by someone else. Nana never went to school for this stuff, but clearly her long years of experience carried their own weight, because she knew what she was talking about. 

It was late in the night by the time Eliot left her house, feeling himself flush to his ears as she kissed him on the cheek before waving until he’d driven away. And this after wrapping him up in a tight, warm hug just inside the front door.

“Alec’s done well for himself,” she said, and winked. “Now, next time I want you to bring that young lady of yours as well, you hear me? Make that a promise.”

“I will,” he said.

.

It was nearly three AM by the time he got home. Parker crashed out of the dark the second he stepped inside, clinging to him as he caught her midair.

“You made Hardison sad on his birthday,” she told him sternly, and headbutted him hard on the temple. As he winced, she pressed her nose down against his shoulder and took a long sniff. “You smell like lemons.”

“You made me sad on Hardison’s birthday,” Eliot sighed. “I mean, mad.”

“Doesn’t matter, you made him sad so I’m not sorry,” she said, and snuggled close.

Eliot carried her through the apartment, avoiding bumping into any furniture through the ease of experience, and into the bedroom. Hardison was sprawled across the mattress, fast asleep with a frown.

Setting Parker down, Eliot got undressed and climbed into the bed. He scooted behind Hardison, leaning up on an elbow to swipe a gentle thumb over the furrow between his brows. It came back, so he wiped at it again, and kissed Alec’s shoulder when he huffed a little and his face relaxed. Eliot kissed him one more time, then lay down behind him with an arm draped over his side.

Rather than going around the bed to the free space on Hardison’s other side, Parker crammed herself onto the mattress right behind Eliot, pushing him further into Hardison and determinedly spooning him.

He craned his neck up to look at her in the dark. She met his gaze solemnly and squeezed tighter, slipping a leg between his.

Eliot fell asleep warm, entangled in the two loves of his life.

.

He woke stinking hot, still entangled but a lot less happy about it. This happened every time he slept in the middle; he didn’t know why he kept letting it happen. Every single time he’d wake abruptly, heart thrumming in an instinctive alert to something wrong... Only to realize that something was just Parker drooling on his ear, or Hardison’s morning breath in his face, and (every time) both their limbs all wrapped up around him and each other in a very sweet, sweaty, and constricting mess.

The first few times he’d suffered through it, unwilling to wake them. Still basking in the fact that he was here, that he got to be a part of this. But Hardison slept like the dead, and Parker had the ability to wake up and go back to sleep pretty much indefinitely, so Eliot had no compunctions about shoving them aside anymore. He also knew that the other two were night owls who would happily sleep in to eight or even ten if left undisturbed. Eliot woke habitually at five regardless of how late he’d been up, maybe six at the latest; morning snuggles just really weren’t practical.

He wriggled free, clambering over Parker and catching her when the bed dipped and she nearly fell to the floor. Her eyes shot open, clocked him, then dropped shut as she went right back to sleep. He left them there and went to go take a shower, then wandered into the kitchen, grabbing up his new cookbook from his jacket pocket on the way.

Eliot was operating on only a couple hours of sleep; Nana didn’t exactly live next door, and he was frankly lucky he’d got out the cake relatively early in the afternoon, to be able to catch her awake at all. It wasn’t like he’d ruined Hardison’s whole birthday, just that last part they’d set aside for the three of them. They had already hung out with Nate and Sophie in the morning, and Hardison had a long phone call with Nana even before that. Parker had even given Hardison her present: a little statuette originally from a museum in Delhi if Eliot wasn’t mistaken. It was some god or something, but bore a striking resemblance to an Ewok, a detail she’d correctly guessed Hardison would love. He’d been planning on giving his present after the cake, at which point they were going to, on Hardison’s specific request, have a very normal and boring date at home. There had been a lot of jobs lately, so that must have tied into his desire for domesticity - that and ‘birthday rights’ to force them to watch all his nerd movies and lose at various video games.

They hadn’t planned anything for today either, so it wasn’t like those plans couldn’t still happen... And in fact yesterday hadn’t even been Hardison’s real birthday, just the replacement day they’d agreed to celebrate on when a con ran through the actual day. But in the cold light of day he felt a lot more stupid about taking a vegetable-related risk on Hardison’s cake, and then reacting stupidly when they didn’t like it. To be fair, he hadn’t considered it a risk at all, hadn’t even been thinking of his ongoing quest to feed them better so much as the fact that carrot cakes were good and he knew Hardison liked cream cheese frosting - but still. Sophie may have hit the nail on the head, but it was still a stupid and immature nail to let get in the way like he’d done.

He had to at least try to make it up to him.

Accordingly, the breakfast casserole Eliot put together was about as far removed from a healthy meal as any non-dessert in Nana’s cookbook. A baked blueberry French toast creation with lots of sugar, it actually was more of a dessert than anything else. It also took hours in the fridge, but that was alright; not the first time Eliot getting up so much earlier came in handy.

He took the time that it spent in the fridge to clean the apartment. He got out his gift to Hardison, swept and mopped and watered all the plants. Did some laundry, meditated a bit. Pretty much just puttered around for hours, steadily feeling worse and worse about his outburst the day before. Parker had been accepting if not forgiving, and didn’t need an explanation; Hardison might not feel the same. Eliot didn’t expect him to; he was the one clearly in the wrong. He really couldn’t regret the outcome of meeting Nana and getting her recipes, but it should have been on any other day.

He managed to time the casserole just to when the other two got up; just as Eliot pulled it from the oven, Parker wandered into the room.

“Ooh!” she said, and approached with a clear intent to stick her fingers directly into the hot food. Eliot intercepted her with a glare and a whap with his oven-mitt. She retaliated with a vicious pinch to the back of his hand and grabbed a blueberry off the top, tossing it into her mouth and wincing as she burnt herself chewing it.

“Quit that, it’s Hardison’s,” he told her.

“Hardison!” Parker yelled in what appeared to be terror, because of course she would. “I need your help right now!”

He came tumbling into the room, still only half-dressed and clumsily wielding Parker’s taser at the couch. When he saw only the two of them calmly watching him, he attempted to hide it behind his back.

“Oh hey, what’s up everyone,” he said nonchalantly. “Breakfast? Awesome. Smells like something Nana used to make.”

Parker went over and kissed him as she stole the taser out of his hand. She held it up in front of his face.

“Mine,” she scolded.

“Hey, I was ready to defend your life,” Hardison said, mock-offended. “What, you want me to run into an ambush empty-handed? Come on, baby, look who you’re talking to.”

“If you’d let Eliot teach you MMA like me then -”

“Then what, you’d use it as an excuse to choke me out again? I know what you’re after, I recognize that look in your eyes -”

“Hey, come’n eat.” Eliot put two full plates of breakfast  casserole down on the island. He braced himself, ready for Hardison to keep giving him the silent treatment or outright call him out on his behavior.

It didn’t happen.

“Morning Eliot,” he said as he came over to grab a stool. He leaned across the island; when Eliot was too surprised to meet him halfway, he rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to grab his face and pull it close enough for a quick kiss. Then he plopped down into his seat, inhaling deeply at his food. “Oh man, this smells exactly like Nana’s Blueberry Thing, I loved that as a kid. How’d you know?”

Eliot slowly sank down from his tiptoes. His stomach hurt a little from being yanked up against the edge of the island, his lips still felt the impression of Hardison’s. He... really didn’t understand.

“Uh, Nana said you liked it best,” he replied a little too woodenly. Neither of his partners seemed to notice.

“You been talkin’ to her without me?” Hardison asked, before taking a bite and moaning. It wasn’t a sex moan - Eliot knew what those sounded like - but it was damn near. “Did you turn into her? What the hell, this is it, this is the Blueberry Thing!”

Parker was at her own plate the moment Eliot said Nana; she was always fascinated by any mention of the woman, and would probably taze him for meeting her first. Right now, she was digging into her own plate, eyes closed.

Eliot cut himself a serving too and sat down to eat with them. He felt tentative, somehow, embarrassed.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Went to talk to her last night. Got some recipes.”

The food was good. Sweet, warm, filling; clearly a comfort meal. He dug in.

When he looked up, Parker and Hardison were both staring at him. She opened her mouth, paused, and then fell silent with a glance to Hardison. He was staring at Eliot, mouth open.

“What the hell, hon?”

Eliot clenched his jaw. He knew what he should say. He’d spent all morning prepping himself to say it.

“...You never opened my present,” he said instead.

Hardison squinted at him.

“Yeah, I wasn’t gonna without you there,” he said pointedly.

“Right, well, here,” Eliot said and shoved it his direction before going back to his food. He could feel them staring at him but didn’t lift his head, kept shoveling bite after bite into his mouth as he heard Hardison final tearing at the wrapping paper, grumbling incoherently to himself.

A moment later, the angry mumbles got louder when he opened the first box to reveal the second one.

By the time Hardison got down to the final layer, a small paper booklet six boxes in, Parker was snickering rudely and his muttering was about half swear-words. Eliot still didn’t look up, kept waiting until Hardison actually read the gift.

(He’d thought it would be funny, obviously. He’d thought it would be hilarious, to watch Hardison getting more and more irritated by the wrapping paper. And he knew the gift itself wasn’t anything much, but Eliot usually prided himself on being good at getting people things they didn’t know they wanted, or didn’t think they’d ever get. He knew it was childish and kind of stupid right from the jump, but money didn’t really mean too much to Hardison, and he was confident he’d love this.

After his behavior last night, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Immaturity took on a different tone right now.)

“‘Eliot Tickets,’“ he heard Hardison read off slowly, then - “no.”

He glanced up sharply, but it’d been a sound of delight. Hardison’s eyes were wide and he was flipping through the pages rapidly with an ever-widening grin.

“No nerd jokes for twenty-four hours, back massage, favorite food, favorite sex, get-out-of-scolding free, dessert for dinner, oh my god Comic-Con?! Get to play with your hair, get to pick your cover, computer lessons, videogames, sleeping in, what kind of goldmine is this -”

Parker leaned over his shoulder as he kept going, pointing out her favorites as they worked their way quickly through the rest of the little booklet. It wasn’t horrendously long, but long enough: one ticket for every year. Twenty-eight in all.

Twenty-nine, including the piece of paper Eliot had slipped in front of the last page at seven-thirty this morning, before carefully re-wrapping every box.

“‘One I’m sorry,’” Parker read out loud. She met Eliot’s eyes as she asked, “Are you gonna use it?”

Hardison hummed thoughtfully, then picked it up to reveal the last page.

“No, I’mma save this for just the right time,” he said, waving it in the air. He looked Eliot in the eye and smirked meaningfully. “You messed up, man, you didn’t put an expiration date on any of these.”

“Dammit,” Eliot grumbled, like he’d just realized.

(It hadn’t been a mistake.)

“Don’t need that right now anyway,” Hardison continued, tucking it back into the middle of the book. “This, on the other hand - this one I’m cashing in now.”

Eliot took the little piece of paper Hardison ripped free. He sighed.

“Really?”

“Hell yes, now get in here - and no complaining, them’s the rules you made your own self. You too, Parker, c’mere.”

Eliot stood up and rounded the island, halting with a sigh just before reaching Hardison, who stood to meet him. He ripped the coupon in half.

“All right, here goes.”

Tucking the pieces into his pocket, Eliot stepped forward into Hardison’s outstretched arms, tucking himself in close and hugging him back tightly. A moment later, he felt Parker collide with them both, one arm over his shoulders and a leg around his hips. He sighed again, this time into Hardison’s shoulder, and let himself sway when they did, a gentle rock back and forth.

He closed his eyes when they started to sting.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into Hardison’s shoulder after a long minute. “Shouldn’ta left.”

“That does not count, Eliot,” Hardison told him firmly, and didn’t let go. “I did not use my coupon, I still got my coupon, you aren’t getting out of anythin’ with that you hear me?”

Parker snickered behind him.

“Not getting out of anything at all,” she said, and squeezed tighter. “We’ve got you trapped.”

.

(The next time he fed them vegetables, it was a Nana recipe and Hardison ate without complaint. Parker ate because she wanted to know what it felt like to be a little Hardison, and proclaimed the experience ‘like one of my harnesses’ which was obviously a very positive review.

The next time he fed them vegetables and it wasn’t a Nana recipe, they exchanged a look and then each ate exactly half of their servings. The rest they snuck back onto Eliot’s plate one bite at a time like he wouldn’t notice. He let them get away with it and looked down at everyone’s empty plates afterward with a weird content feeling relaxing his shoulders.

The next time he saw Nana, her words on Hardison’s bragging proved embarrassingly correct. She and Parker got along like a house on fire, and if left alone too long would probably cause a house on fire, and Hardison just watched them with a giant grin like he didn’t see the danger. Nana asked Eliot if he’d considered what they talked about last time right in front of them both, proving beyond all doubt that she shared Hardison’s love of driving him goddamn crazy for fun.

The next carrot cake he made was for Sophie and Nate. He refused to call it a thank you, but she did and also asked him to make that little French quiche she’d talked about like she honestly expected “it had spinach, I think, something green anyway, it was very light, and some kind of unexpected spice too?” would be enough to go on. Nate was no help whatsoever.)

[siancore]

Baked With Love Part 2

Read Part 1 Here

Summary: 

Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.

It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.

A/N: Part 1 didn’t have a lot of interest and I’m honestly bummed about it, but here’s Part 2 for those who did enjoy it. Meet-cute, maybe? 

“Come on, Sam!” called Misty as she and Riley waited on the sofa. “How long does it take to microwave some popcorn?”

Sam rolled his eyes and shouted back from the kitchen, “I’m not microwaving it. I’m cookin’ it in a heated pan.”

Riley smiled and Misty got up from where she was seated to make her way to the kitchen of Sam’s grandmother’s house. She leaned against the doorjamb and folded her arms. Sam turned to look at her, flashing his bright smile.

“You mean to tell me you’re in here cooking the popcorn yourself?” she queried with a raised eyebrow.

Sam shrugged and replied, “Yeah, of course. It tastes better done this way. I can throw in the sea salt and add as much butter as I like. Trust me, you’re gonna love it.”

“Okay, Sammy,” she replied, pushing off the doorframe and backing away. “You’re lucky I trust you.”

…..

The movie was a quarter of the way through and Misty was begging Sam for more popcorn.

“Please, it’s so good. What’d you do to it? I knew you could cook, but damn. You’re even good at popcorn?”

Sam let out an amused laugh and took the empty bowl from his friend.

“It’s different than waiting to use one of the microwaves at the dorms,” said Sam as he sauntered into the kitchen to make some more of the snack for him and his friends. “That’s one thing I don’t miss about school: Having no place to actually cook decent meals.”

“You must be lovin’ it here, then,” said Riley.

“I am. Got the whole kitchen to myself,” said Sam with a somewhat sad little smile.

The movie was long finished, and the three friends lounged about talking.

“I’ve missed this,” Misty proffered. “Us hanging out together.”

“Me, too,” said Sam. “And I miss school, but I needed to do this. I needed to take this time off. And it’s been good. I’m gonna start looking for work, get settled in, and really make the most of it.”

“Find work?” asked Riley with a frown. “How long are you gonna be here, Sam?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, tilted his head to the side, and said, “Dunno. As long as it takes.”

“What exactly is it?”

“This feeling inside,” Sam tried to explain. “This feeling of being restless and not enjoying things. It’s like, after Gramma passed away, I didn’t feel the same joy for school or cooking or anything like that. I needed to come back here. I hope bein’ here can help me find the joy again, if that makes sense.”

Misty leaned her head on Sam’s shoulder and then said, “It makes perfect sense, baby boy.”

Sam placed his head against hers and smiled.

“Well,” said Misty with a yawn. “I’m gonna head off to bed.”

“You need me to show you?” asked Sam.

“Nah, I got it,” she replied, looking at him and then Riley. “You two have a good night.”

She walked away and then said, “And don’t be too noisy.”

Sam and Riley got through the first half of a well-watched sitcom before Riley spoke up.

“Sammy?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve missed you.”

Sam turned to look at his ex, proffered a gentle smile and said, “Yeah, I’ve missed you, too.”

Riley returned the grin and then leaned in. His lips came close to Sam’s just before the other man pulled away.

“Woah. Riley? What? What’re you doin’?”

“I – I thought…”

“No,” said Sam as he shifted away.

“I thought me coming here meant –”

“That we were getting back together?”

“Yeah.”

“No. That’s not it at all,” Sam explained, as he stood from where he was sitting. “Nothing’s changed. We’re not getting back together. We talked about this. It was good for a while, but I can’t deal with your clinginess and gaslighting. When I called you out on how you were acting, you blamed me, and that’s not cool. I love you, but we’re not gonna work like that.”

“I know,” said Riley, as he searched Sam’s eyes. “I just thought that with some time apart, we could make it work.”

“It’s not gonna work. You’ve got your issues, and I’ll be your friend, but that’s all I can be. And I’m not here to work out your issues for you, Riley. You understand that, right?”

Riley let his head drop and then said, “I know. I know. I just care about you.”

“And I care about you, too,” said Sam, as he sat back down. “But not like that. Not anymore. I can be your friend, but that’s it. You know that.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Riley lifted his gaze and said, “Yeah, I know. I get it. I do.”

Sam offered a nod of his head and said, “Okay.”

Riley tried to smile back at Sam as he said, softly, “Okay.”

Bucky was excited and pleased that his father had actually agreed to his proposal about hiring someone else to help out at the Bakery. They had put the adverts out and had a decent response. Presently, both father and son were interviewing those who had applied for the job. It was slow going, and, if Bucky was being completely honest, the candidates were not the best.

The first person he interviewed had no experience at all, and while George wanted to help them out with steady work, they just didn’t have the skillset he was looking for. The second interviewee said outright that they didn’t like waking up early. That would be a problem, considering a baker needed to arrive early to start baking. The third had no idea what the job entailed; they were just throwing job applications out into the universe and hoping for the best. The next asked if free pastries were part of the job. The rest were just not right, plain and simple. Bucky was disappointed and his father was tired.

As George cleared away the applications from the table in the back of the bakery. He filed them away and then returned to where his son was seated, head in his hands.

“We tried, Buck,” said George, as he placed a hand to his shoulder. “Sorry, honey. You had a good idea, it just didn’t work.”

Bucky shrugged and said, “Thanks for letting me try. I’m gonna close up and then go hang out with Steve and the guys.”

He then stood and walked out to the front of the shop to lock up.

 “How am I ever gonna leave this place?” asked Bucky as T’Challa, Steve, and Okoye gave him sympathetic looks.

“It’ll happen,” said Okoye.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “We’ll find an apartment, soon, and then we’ll be outta here.”

“You know it’s not the end of the world, right?” T’Challa asked.

“I know,” Bucky replied. “I’m just ready to leave. I’m ready for all the gigs we’re gonna play. I’m ready to get out here.”

“True, but we gotta be realistic,” Steve added. “It’ll happen, but it’ll take time. There’s no need to rush.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Stevie,” Bucky replied, feeling crestfallen. “You have options. For me, it’s either stay here and make bread for the rest of my life, or finally try to make this music thing work. That’s it. That’s all I got.”

“Buck –”

“Don’t,” said Bucky as he stood to leave. “I’m gonna go home.”

With that, he made his way toward the exit.

It wasn’t too late by the time Bucky made it home. He searched his pockets for the house keys and then realised his phone wasn’t there. He cursed under his breath and then remembered that he left the device in the Bakery. Sighing loudly, Bucky made his way down to the shop.

He switched on the lights and found the device sitting atop the counter in the front of the Bakery. He leaned against the counter a beat, checked for messages, and then placed the phone securely in his pocket. Out of habit, he walked to the front door to make sure it was locked. Just then, Bucky was startled by a figure on the other side of the door. A friendly face smiled at him and then waved. Bucky vaguely recognized the young man on the other side of the glass. He unlocked the door and then peered out.

“Hey, sorry, we’re closed,” said Bucky, taking in the man’s appearance; he was possibly the cutest guy Bucky had ever seen in his life.

The guy held up a job application and said, “Sorry, but I ah, I heard there was a job going here?”

Bucky found himself staring a moment, before coming to his senses and saying, “Yeah, but uh, you’re gonna have to come back when we’re open.”

“Okay, cool,” said the stranger, flashing a bashful smile.

“Cool,” Bucky replied, at a loss for words and completely struck by the gorgeous face staring back at him.

“I’m Sam, by the way,” the other young man said. “I think I saw you the other day on your scooter.”

Bucky smiled coyly and ran his hand through his hair, “Yeah, that was me. I uh noticed you, too.”

“Cool, well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, man. Tomorrow.”

The pair held one another’s gaze a moment longer as Sam began to back away.

“Wait!” Bucky called out, stopping Sam in his tracks.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, placing his free hand in his pocket.

Bucky cleared his throat and then asked, “Why do you want this job?”

Sam’s face lit up at the question and Bucky thought his heart had stopped beating.

“I just really love to cook,” Sam explained. “Baking especially. I’m going to culinary school, actually; that’s how much I love it. I’m taking a break to sort some things out right now. But I want this job because I can do something I love while I figure things out.”

Bucky gave him a gentle smile and said, “Hey, that’s really nice. We could use someone like you. I mean, it ain’t up to me, but you’re already like a hundred times better than the other applicants.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, dude,” said Bucky as he marvelled at Sam’s pretty brown eyes. “Come back first thing tomorrow and we’ll see what happens.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate the chance. See you tomorrow,” said Sam as he flashed a bright beam at the other man.

“Yeah,” said Bucky as his tummy did a hundred little flips at the sight of Sam’s smile. “See you soon.”