#i made enough to put some in the freezer and still have enough patties for several more meals too

[jensownzoo]

Mmmm...dinner was homemade falafel with tzatziki. Tummy is happy.

In addition, I can now repel any vampires at 50ft.

[16woodsequ]

Community Wip Wednesday Response Oct 16/24

To anyone not in the know, I'm part of the wip wednesday community and made a post there. People in the group can comment to ask for more of the wips there. A recent poll indicated that people prefer to be tagged in a separate post with the snippets, so that's what I'll be doing here.

Dogs are the Best Judge of Character snippets for @quietly-sleeping, @somefishycat, @kallisto-k, @oriharaizayadividesintoslytherin, @sourb0i, @wizisbored, @whimsicalmeerkat, @stonemaskedtaliesin

Relieved to have some direction, Bucky blows out a breath and gets started switching out Scrappy’s food. His nose wrinkles as he removes the can of wet dog food from the electric can opener that he'd gotten for his birthday this year. He’s never liked the smell of dog food, wet or otherwise, and he holds his breath as he scoops out a portion into Scrappy’s bowl.

He leaves that in the bathroom for a few more hours until the next feeding time, and when he checks, Scrappy still has yet to eat anything.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Bucky worries, glancing between the bowl and the dog that is currently pressed up as far from him as possible in the corner. “Are you feeling sick?”

Of course Scrappy can’t answer him, but he gives him a look that’s a mix of fear and reluctance. Like he knows what Bucky wants and knows he hasn’t done it. It’s amazing the amount of feelings a dog can portray with just its eyebrows and huge blue eyes.

Bucky takes the bowl back to the kitchen and washes it out while some of the patties he still had in the freezer defrost in the microwave. They’re already cooked, and he places two in the bowl, blowing on them to cool them down. He would put more in there, but he also doesn’t want Scrappy to eat himself sick. He knows the dog must be starving by now. 

Conscious of what Bethany had said about vitamins, he cuts up half an apple and after a quick google, a bit of carrot as well. Hopefully that’s good enough for today. He makes a mental note to dive deeper into cooking for dogs because he doesn’t want to be this stressed about Scrappy’s eating ever again. 

Faces on TV for @kalira, @auburnlaughter, @asha10100101010

Tony sits in the courtroom next to Steve, his arms folded, sunglasses down. The circus show outside the courthouse was expected, but miserable nonetheless. Everyone wants to get a piece of Captain America when he admits anything close to the words 'emotional distress’. The case is such a spectacle that the judge ruled it would be televised. Televised trials weren’t a thing in Steve’s time, and he’d privately ranted about it to Tony in the labs, but he and Natasha had done their best to prepare Steve for it. 

Of course, next to him, Steve is sitting stiff as a statue, looking every bit the impervious Captain America people expect him to be. Tony hates that, but he knew this trial would be difficult the moment it first came up. 

Trauma kid fic for @cataclysmic-writer, @zyrafowe-sny, @tamsinswriting, @1attheedge

Her gaze shifts to Tony. “He needs some clothes.”

“Clint’s getting some,” Tony mutters a little sullenly, his bitten finger still clasped tight in one hand. 

Well at least that’s being taken care of. Natasha gives Bruce his turn, her mind focused on dealing with this one step at a time. It’s easier that way, because the other option is sitting in paralyzed shock over Steve’s state, which isn’t an option. 

“Bruce? What’s his situation?”

Bruce sighs and gestures vaguely. “JARVIS was able to scan him when we came in, but other than that I haven’t been able to really examine him, since he’s been–” he waves at the crevasse Steve has wedged himself in. “But, from the scans, he doesn’t seem to have the serum. Of course, we can’t know if it’s still there, or dormant, or whatever happened to it without a blood test—”

There’s a soft whimper from under the table, and Bruce winces.

[docholligay]

Shamash day points: Misc Nominations

Boy do I always have so much fun reading these! Thanks you to everyone who answered. It was hard picking the winners, as it often is, but here they are!

The question was: Tell me about the worst meal you had this year.

1 point to @beefsaladthethirtythird with that's herring under a fur coat! I love herring under a fur coat WHAT DID YOU DO:

For new years my partner and I made this Russian dish called "selyodka pod shuboy", dressed herring salad. It has salted herring, potatoes, carrots, beets and onions,(but we might have left them off), all held together with layers of mayonnaise. My partner put way too much mayo on the salad, and combined with the fatty herring, it was so greasy as to be borderline inedible. Like, it was give-you-GI-issues bad. My partner loves that salad recipe, but she also could not eat more than a little of it. I tried to get through it but it was making me ill after eating so i trashed the leftovers. we made other Russian New Years dishes, and they were all pretty good, but the dressed herring was a no-go.

2 points-- @seolh with the saddest bachelor meal I have ever heard

It's late. I've been at the office for over fourteen hours, but finally I am home. I am hungry but I am also so, so tired. A basic salad sounds like a nice, low-energy idea for food.

I take a chicken breast out of the freezer and put it directly in the oven. It is not seasoned.

I put some lettuce in a bowl. I decide to I am too tired to chop veggies right that moment. I sit on the couch. I sit. I sit some more. I'm so hungry.

I go get the bowl and start picking at the lettuce with my fingers, shoving it into my mouth. It is bland and almost bitter and not particularly pleasant. I continue eating it. Soon, it is gone. The chicken continues to cook.

I just want to go to bed, but I am not sated, and know I need protein. I wait for the chicken to cook. I let it rest. With no seasoning or oil, the top of the chicken breast looks rubbery and a bit shrivelled.

I slice up the chicken breast. I consider attempting to add some flavour, but that's effort. I stand at the corner eating unseasoned pieces of chicken breast. It is not unpleasant, but it is extremely boring. And finally, time for sleep.

…THE worst meal of the year, by far, and I did it to myself!

3 points, @katrani with how did you manage to fuck this up so badly what a wild ride:

….it was actually just this morning. I had bought some ciabatta rolls last weekend, for a specific thing, then because of Reasons couldn't make the thing on the planned night. We had a get-together yesterday, and someone had to spend the night because they were a little too drunk and tired to get home. Perfect, thinks me, even though it is the time of year for jinxes, I still have that bread and can do breakfast sandwiches! Well. Morning arrived, cheerful and optimistic. Even having our first real chill for the year was fine, cause it meant I had been extra cozy and woke up gradually, I felt so rested! Amazing energy levels for cooking! …..the bread had molded. I took too long, and it had been claimed by that stealthy t-rex of modern biology.

This is still okay, muses me, I can find a workaround. Except my fridge and cupboards are emptier than normal, as I'm trying to keep things low so I can scrub everything during an upcoming long weekend. However!!!!!!!!!!! A light! A shining, glorious utility food- I have instant potato flakes! I can very easily make some bullshit hashbrowns!!!! Who doesn't love even a shitty hashbrown patty! And it'll still work as a sandwich kind of thing!!

So I mix the flakes with the smallest amount of water, just enough to make them pasty/battery. I season them, I mold them together, they're sticking as patties fine enough! I heat up the oil, and… they fall apart. So badly. I forgot that the last time I used them for this I had to make them into the mashed potato format and then fry dollops of that. Doing it straight out of the box does not work. Can I blame the heteros for straight out of the box being a terrible idea? Probably not, but it would make me feel better.

Even thinking that okay, it'll be a skillet now, I'll break apart the patties and fry it as lumps of potato batter does not work. They just WILL NOT fry up, the oil soaked into the solid portion a bit too much and now it's not cooking right. Sure, the bottom is crisping, and I can scrape that up and mix it in, but most of it has become just a sludge. A slurry even. Completely unappetizing. I'll have to throw it all out, and borrow someone's rosary or something so I can make proper apologies to the spirits of my fiance's Midwest Irish family for fucking up perfectly good potato product so horrendously.

So all I have to offer my guest, 45 minutes after we've been awake, is some eggs, and they do not like eggs by themselves. My fiance and I eat what I was able to make, and they're well-seasoned, and the texture is actually the best I've gotten eggs to be in a while… but it is poisoned by the shame of not being able to care for my guest, any enjoyment I might have would be a slap in the face to their hunger, a breach of their trust in me to be a proper hostess.

As they were leaving they told me they don't really have breakfast most of the time anyways.

You definitely would have gotten points if you had elaborated at all, @iscahwynn because a 7-11 challenge sounds TERRIFYING

[caleiiiii]

mcytbers as subway workers because i work at subway and i said so

i wrote this all at like 1 am im sorry

subway terminology (at least where i work)

waste out -means an item cant, or isnt, being sold, like overbaked cookies or expired milk. gets written down on a list for tax returns or smth

freezer pulls -pulling items from the freezer to the walk in fridge so they can thaw for the upcoming days

POS system -the software used for ringing up food, has a bunch of options per type of sandwich

generally 2 shift rotations , each one has a shift lead which is ur main opener or closer

characters

dream 

makes sandwiches so fast. 

how ??? 

he wraps the sandwiches immaculately as well

definitely a main closer

george 

just. disappears during a rush 

only to be found two hours later STILL doing dishes

dream and sapnap are not pleased.

sapnap 

convinces dream to waste out bread for him so he can eat it

gives ppl he likes free cookies 

terrible at wrapping sandwiches

tommy 

always works with wilbur and tubbo. always. 

he HATES freezer pulls but if he has to he can be seen SPRINTING between the freezer and the fridge

also bad at wrapping sandwiches

does all the online orders for tubbo because he cant read them well

tubbo 

loves to bake the bread and cookies

got a complaint once because he read an online order wrong so tommy always does them

hates ringing people up but loves to make the sandwhiches

technoblade

only works like 1 shift a week but its the most goddamn productive shift of anyone.

always makes sure they are selling potato soup when hes working

another main closer

wilbur

always controls the radio in the store

always works with tubbo and tommy, drives them to work

bribes others so he doesnt have to do the dishes

main opener

philza

the manager

super chill about scheduling

turns a blind eye to people “accidently” dropping cookies and wasting them out

niki

a goddess at baking the bread and cookies

never burns anything ever

everybody wants to work with her shes so nice

fundy

is really good at ringing those ppl up with 28372 coupons

horrible at making sandwiches tho

the only one that knows how to fix the soda machine when it breaks

quackity

always gets asked to translate the writing on the boxes since its in spanish 95% of the time

loves stocking the milk cooler so he can take home the expired sodas n shit

always forgets to remind customers when stuff costs extra

schlatt

that one transfer from another store that does everything

slightly wrong.

its been long enough now that he should know better but nobody wants to correct him.

eret

has tons of pins on his hat, 10/10

really good at making the wraps

always says hello when customers enter

karl

the new hire

immediately taken under sapnaps wing, much to the chagrin of dream

much more bread is now wasted out.

bbh and skeppy

regulars that are just. always there

they know all the employee gossip and get discounts on food

phil is .5 seconds away from asking them if they want a job

normal shift schedules

wilbur, tommy, tubbo (day shift)

dream, george, sapnap (night shift)

eret, niki, fundy (day shift)

technoblade, quackity, schlatt (night shift)

karl mainly works with the dteam, but jumps around

random things

the cookie incident

once tubbo accidently overbaked like 2 dozen cookies

so he and tommy ate all of them during their shift

they did not come into work the next day.

dream and techno rivalry

dream and technoblade have a rivaly about who can close and leave the store the quickest

eventually they decide to time themselves and race eachother on their respective shifts

techno wins with a time of 3 minutes before theyre officially allowed to close.

they both get yelled at by phil

technoblade’s only mistake

the only mistake technoblade has made ever was accidently leaving the bread cabinet open overnight

wilbur, tubbo, and tommy find it in the morning and have to throw all the bread out

tommy and tubbo split the bread and each leave with a garbage bag full of subway bread

wilbur still wont let techno live it down.

hacker things

once fundy hacked the POS system to give him a 100% discount

used it for about a month before someone (quackity) accidently pressed the option and snitched to phil

luckily, he just sighed and reset the system

cookie dough

wilbur comes up with the idea to pop raw cookie dough in the microwave and eat it half baked

phil comes in one day only to make -direct eye contact- with tommy as he and tubbo lick cookie dough off of some deli paper

allows it to happen as long as they pay for the dough

subway garlic bread

on a really slow day niki and eret are goofing off and create

~subway garlic bread~

it instantly becomes a secret menu favourite among employees and regulars

the bet

once skeppy bet quackity and schlatt that they wouldnt start a fake argument during rush hour

skeppy recorded the whole thing

technoblade can be seen in the backround silently making sandwiches as quackity and schlatt scream at eachother about if quackity has a “flatty patty”

phil tries to be mad but sees all the tips they made and lets is slide

sacrifices

george is the one always sacrificed to deal with the crabby middle aged moms

its his punishment for not helping during the rush.

torture

sometimes for fun wilbur takes his meal break right before the dinner rush

tommy stares at him in fury the whole time.

betting pool

none of the employees can tell if bbh and skeppy are dating

its to the point that they keep a betting chart on a white board next to the “top failure of the week” spot

subway ghost

after a few freak instances wilbur is positive that the subway is haunted and convinces phil to let him do a séance after hours

he manages to convince half the staff that the store is haunted

(the ghost is drista or smth idk aksjdhajk)

top failure of the week

a tally on the white board in the back room of who dropped/wasted out thw most items

sapnap has the record top failure of the week, dropping a total of 42 loaves of bread in a week

schlatt got put on the board once. never again.

enamel pins

tubbo finds a enamel pin of a bee that he puts on his visor

its not technically allowed but phil lets him do it anyway :)

bandanas

tommy and tubbo take subway bandanas from the back room and initial them before trading with eachother

nobody comments that theyre not technically allowed to have a hat and a bandana

the war

at some point a rivalry breaks out between the day staff

wilbur, tommy, tubbo, niki, eret, and fundy

and the night staff

dream, sapnap, george (techno, karl, schlatt, and quackity stay out of it)

what starts out tame eventually leads to workers purposely messing up stuff for the next shift to deal with, like not stocking the fridge or mopping the floor 

at some point eret switches to the night shift

the day shift does not take it well.

 after about 2 weeks phil is forced to step in as the store quality starts to go downhill

he closes the store for a day and makes everyone clean it u

 techno watches from outside the windows with a bag of popcorn

pogway

tommy starts placing the stickers they use to wrap sandwiches everywhere with the words “pogway” on them

everyone can tell its his handwriting but no one can catch him placing the stickers

phil even checked the cameras, still no trace of him

subway gun

sometimes tommy goes around spraying others with a spray bottle full of water used on the bread

he calls it the “subway gun”

wilbur gets fed up hides it in the freezer overnight

thats all for now! if i come up with anything else i might add it lol

EDIT PART 2 IS NOW OUT

[thessalian]

Thess vs 'Rest Day’

I think we can safely file today under “A Mistake”.

Here’s the running of Things Wot I Have Done Today:

Woke up well before the alarm I set in case I heavily overslept, since I stayed up way later than I expected to (the hazards of Zen hyperfocus video games). Could not get back to sleep. Swore over that for awhile.

Watered the plants.

Took delivery of one out of two grocery deliveries I was expecting today. (Look, I know, okay? But you try living with my dietary restrictions; I can’t shop entirely at Tesco because their gluten-free pasta is shit and their gluten-free chocolate chip cookies are sub-par, and I can’t shop entirely at Sainsbury’s because their gluten-free range is not exactly stellar and a lot of things at Tesco’s are cheaper. So I split the difference.) This was the Tesco delivery, so it was actually relatively straightforward, and had all the ingredients for the peppermint patties I wanted to make this weekend.

Decided to use the time between deliveries to actually make the peppermint patties, or at least get them started. Trying to make any kind of dough - flour, sugar, or otherwise - in a small mixer is ... bad. Trying to make it with a hand mixer is worse, if you have chronic pain issues. Trying to make it entirely by hand ... well, put it this way - that was where I started and it was a BAD IDEA. So made of ow, and the non-mallet painkillers were in with the Sainsbury’s delivery. There was a lot of swearing, but eventually I got everything mixed, the  patties cut, and the wonderful news that I can substitute vegetable oil for shortening when melting the chocolate so I don’t have to go out again.

Cleaned up the counters, vacuumed the kitchen, and washed everything up, because icing sugar in various states - from powdered to icing to dough - was more or less everywhere and I didn’t want it making things all sticky or attracting more insects than my plants already do. Also cleaned the fridge, and emptied the bathroom wastebin and the recycling, taking that downstairs.

Then immediately had more recycling when my order from Amazon arrived. So I have reusable canning jar lids (that don’t actually fit my mason jars but do fit my other jars so I can sterilise those and it should be fine) ... and I have gummy bear moulds. This is a good thing. Especially since they can also be used for resin trinkets and, in the case of the larger ones, home-made doggie treats. But mostly I’m looking forward to homemade gummy bears. I might make some wine-based ones for Mum, at about the same time as I’m making home-made doggie treats for my parentals’ beloved dog, Digby. (Poor Digby is not having a very good time of it. He’s been at the vet twice for thankfully low-grade tumours. He deserves a treat. So do the parentals, because they very much love their Digby and will be very sad when he dies. This has made me double down on not wanting a pet. I couldn’t afford the insurance and I sure as hell couldn’t afford the vet bills. If I ever get a pet again, it’s going to be, like, gerbils, or fish. Things that basically have very little setting between “healthy” and “dead”.)

Didn’t even have time to finish unwrapping the moulds before the Sainsbury’s delivery turned up. This was all my gummy bear-making stuff, and a lot of the staples - decent gluten-free pasta, various meats, and basically all of the frozen stuff. Which presented a problem because the freezer wasn’t exactly empty on account of a few blips in the menu budget in my favour (basically the three meals’ worth of curry because of dinner with Mum last weekend) and my mint patties are still in there hardening. Plus I really need to defrost the fucking thing but it’s never empty enough to do so because I freeze so much stuff - I have to because I live alone and things go bad otherwise. And I can barely manage mashing potatoes; how the hell well do you think I’d manage taking a knife or an ice pick to ice build-up? Anyway, cue Freezer Tetris as I tried to cram everything in. And I juuuuuuuust about managed. Thankfully there will be more space once I actually melt the chocolate, dip the patties, and move everything to the fridge.

Which meant I had to make sure there was a clear shelf in the fridge so I could put the damn things somewhere to cool afterwards. Cue Refrigerator Tetris. That was a little easier, since I had, as previously mentioned, cleared out the fridge. I’ll have more space in there after the chocolate has hardened and everything can just be shoved into a bag or something.

Then came the cupboard stuff. Now, the issue with my cupboards is that I am not what you would call tall, and reaching the upper shelves of them is a bitch. But I can’t afford to waste the space by not using it because it is not a large kitchen. So cue Cupboard Tetris on top of everything else. It needs to be a little tidier than it is, but at least it’s all pretty much put away.

I swear, every time I do something in the kitchen I think of something else I fucking need. This time? Some of those nice big sealed storage containers for pasta and stuff so I can clear some optimal cupboard space. Then again, I’d have to think of where the fuck I’d put it. I’m running out of counter space too. That’s the bane of most foodies, the tiny kitchen. The issue is that “tiny kitchen” feels like a design feature in most English houses, unless they’re relatively new or heavily remodelled. This place was built in the 70s, and thus the kitchen’s the approximate size of the bathroom. Ah well, I will do what I can with what I have.

What I have now, however, is a lot of pain. I am taking a bit of a break before I move on to melting chocolate and dipping peppermint patties. I should also ponder dinner - it’ll probably be the tuna broccoli pasta just because it’s relatively easy and I have the good gluten-free pasta now. But mostly because relatively easy, since I have to run a D&D session in four and a half hours.

Yahweh may have rested on the seventh day. I just get busier.

[morgansyorkie]

Too Afraid of Losing You ~ Nolan Patrick

Summary: You’re a med student and you had to graduate early due to the Corona Virus pandemic happening in the Philadelphia area. You have been working insane hours and the exhaustion from it all has definitely took a toll not only on you, but on your boyfriend Nolan Patrick well. You both have come to realization on truly how each of you mean to one another and how much you need one another during this difficult time.

Word Count: 3,660 

Disclaimer: this is my first writing that I am posting, I hope that you all in enjoy it and would love to get any kind of feed back. Thank you :) Also thank you to @quinny-boy-hughes​ and @kravistonecny​ for giving my the courage to write and post this!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who would have thought that two months ago your normal life as a med student was going to change, but change in a way you never thought could happen. Sleeping was starting to become more and more difficult nor it never came at all. You frequently found yourself tossing and turning throughout the night or during the day depending on your crazy schedule. The world as you knew it was changing and not in a good way, your school decided to let all medical students graduate early if they chose to due to the pandemic that was happening here in America.  

Sixteen hours...sixteen hours later you were finally walking into your apartment in downtown Philadelphia feeling completely exhausted and worn out. Your shift was only supposed to be from 7 pm to 7 am a normal twelve hour nurse-based shift, but with the amount of cases that were pilling in overnight, your team had to work overtime to make sure there was enough room for everyone coming in. You quickly kicked your shoes off and headed straight to the bathroom so you can remove your uniform and jump into the hot scolding shower. As you were removing your clothing you noticed a note and a single red rose laying on the countertop of the sink. “You’re so amazing and I’m so proud of you” Love always Nolan

As exhausted as you were, you couldn’t help but smile at the little gesture that your beyond amazing boyfriend Nolan has done for you. Nolan is your absolute everything in this world, he has seen you go through so much while attending med school and knowing that your graduating year had to be cut short due to the Corona Virus outbreak put a toll on the both of you. He was looking forward to watching you walk across the stage and finally getting that diploma that you’ve worked so damn hard for. He was looking forward for after graduation to settle down some and enjoy sometime together and maybe start planning your guys future together before you landed your official nursing job at University of Penn. He was even in talks to the guys about proposing to you when the time was right, but now that’s all thrown out the window due to this insane virus that no one has control over.

Once you got out of the shower, you changed into some sweats and one of Nolan’s hoodies that he totally sprayed his cologne with overnight to make sure that it smelled exactly like him. You walked out of the bathroom and was surprised to see Nolan still spread out in your guys bed peacefully sleeping. Must have been a long night of video games, if he is still sound asleep at this time of the day. As much as you desperately needed sleep you didn’t want to disrupt your boyfriend so you headed towards the spare bedroom and crawled under the blankets. You turned to lay on your side but the scarring on your face made you jolt some, but after a while the cooling of the pillowcases felt good against your beat-up face.  

Nolan rolled over and looked at his phone which had a bunch of notifications that he could care less about, he saw that it was almost noon. He opened his text’s and saw that the last text from you was around eleven in the morning stating you were finally clocking out and heading home. But it’s almost been an hour since that text and he doesn’t understand why you’re not home lying in bed next to him. He got up and walked out of the room “Y/N? Y/N you home”? He asked in a low mumble tone. When there was no response, he got worried, he was about to grab his phone to call you when he noticed the guest bedroom door slightly closed and the bag with your scrubs in it laying out in the hall way. Seeing the bag out in the hall way made his nerves calm down a bit, he softly opened the guest bedroom door and saw you peacefully laying in the bed sleeping. He was glad to have you home safe, but he would be lying if he wasn’t a little hurt for the fact that you were sleeping in the guest bed instead of next to him in your guys bed.

You were finally getting some good sleep for once until you heard the loud ringing coming the night stand next to you. You sat up and rubbed your eyes a few times before answering the phone.  

“Hello?” You answered still half a sleep.  

“Y/N” I am so so sorry to wake you; I know how worn out you must be but I need you to come in for another overnight shift tonight. We just got about another 100 or so cases that rolled in from the time that you left and it’s getting out of hand here. We are going to need all hands-on deck tonight and tomorrow.” Your boss explained to you.  

You had no choice, you had to go in this is what you signed up for. Well not this exactly, but you knew that becoming a nurse meant you were going to have some really tough days and nights.

“Yes, of course I’ll be there for shift change at seven tonight” You said in mid-stretch and getting ready to hop out of bed since it was just pass three thirty in the afternoon.  

“Ugh thank you so much Y/N see you later hun.” Your boss said quickly and hung up

You walked out of the bedroom and headed towards the living room and kitchen area. You might as well start planning on cooking a big meal since you don’t know when the next time you will be able to eat a proper meal next. You saw Nolan sitting on the couch with his gaming headset on, trying his best not to yell into the mic at the person on the other end which was most likely Travis and maybe Carter.

“Dude Trav what the fuck are you doing? You just shot me I am on your team you stupid idiot, such a dumbass, god you are so fucking bad at Call of Duty.” Nolan said into his headset.  

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself and shake your head at the site of Nolan. You walked over and leaned over the back of the couch to run your hand through Nolan’s hair and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen.  

“Hey guys, I gotta go.” Nolan said as quickly as he could before shutting down the game and throwing his headset onto the coffee table.

You’d just finished getting out some pots and pans to start preparing a meal of spaghetti and meatballs when a pair of familiar strong arms wrapped themselves around your torso and a nose nuzzled into your neck.  

“Done your game already.” You said giggling.  

“Why were you in the spare bedroom?” Nolan questioned, as he spun you around so he could properly kiss you.

“I slept in the guest room because you took up the whole bed and you looked so damn cute and peaceful that I didn’t want to disrupt that. It's been so hard for me to even get a good night’s and in this case a good day’s worth of sleep lately so when I was done showering and found you sprawled out, you looked so peaceful. That I didn’t have the heart to ruin your beauty sleep in case I couldn’t fall asleep.”

I appreciate that babe…but I missed you.” Nolan breathed. “Was worried that something happened to you or that something had happened at the hospital.”

“Nah…never.” You insisted. “Not when I have you here to come home to after a long exhausting shift at work.”  

With Nolan’s arms bringing you closer to him and him resting his head over your shoulder you sighed softly.

“Baby, what’s wrong and why are you cooking now? I thought that we were just going to snuggle and relax tonight and order some take out.” Nolan said as he played with your hair

“Plans changed...” You said barely above a whisper

“Y/n? What’s going on?” Nolan asked while stepping next to you so he can get a good read at the expression on your face. He knows how exhausted, worn out and beat up you have been lately. Seeing all of scars on your face every time you walk through that door reminds him how serious this virus actually is, it reminds him how scared he is that you are on the front lines during this time and how he doesn’t exactly know what you are battling every day, hour and minute.

“My boss called...hundreds of more cases came flooding in after I left the hospital, we need all hands-on deck. So, I have to head back down to the hospital later for another overnight shift.” You spoke softly as you pour the pasta into the boiling water and went to the freezer to grab the bag of meatballs.

“Y/n...no you were supposed to have the rest of the evening off, you weren’t supposed to go back into work until tomorrow morning. We were finally supposed have a relaxing night together, I feel like I don’t get to see you anymore.” Nolan said grabbing your hand squeezing it tight afraid that he might never get another relaxing night with you again.

“Patty, trust me I more than anyone in this world want that. I just want to crawl onto the couch and in your lap and just wish this horrible nightmare of a virus away, but it’s not like that. It’s getting worse by the hour and minute it seems like now and I just can’t say no. I just can not just not show up when there are higher doctors and nurses out there who never really get chance to go home and see their families and loved ones.” You said squeezing his hand back and kissing his soft lips to reassure him how much you love him.

“Here why don’t I finish dinner and we can sit outside on the balcony and enjoy some fresh air…” Nolan said picking up the ladle. “Then we can have a little cuddle session before you have to leave for the night.”

“‘Deal.” You said in agreement, while quickly rising up onto your tippy toes to plant a kiss onto Nolan’s lips before grabbing the place settings for outside. Being a med student wasn’t easy, but it was certainly easier with Nolan by your side the whole entire time. Now being a freshly new nurse isn’t easy either especially during this pandemic time, but again it was certainly a lot easier with Nolan by your side.

Nolan brought out dinner and you two just shared the moment that you were in. Eating a great dinner together while enjoying each other’s company and looking off into the cities sun. Every now and then you would glance over and give Nolan an adorable look and smile. He would try to give you the same reassuring glance back, but you knew there was something off with him. His eyes didn’t have that sparkle or shine to them like they normally do and it worried you.

After dinner, you joined Nolan in the lounge chair that he was sitting on and crawled in between his legs so your back was snuggled up to his chest and he could tightly wrap his arms around you.

“I can’t wait for this new normal to be over. I can’t wait to actually get my diploma and hopefully have an actual ceremony or at least party to celebrate my hard work with our friends and family. I can’t wait to see what an actual regular day of work is going to look like, a day where I don’t have to wear protective gear 24/7 and have to social distance myself from everything and everyone that I love.”

“Can’t wait for that too...” Nolan said barely above a whisper

Nolan’s voice alarmed you, you spun around so you were facing him. You looked up at Nolan and could see a sea of tears forming in eyes and a few slightly falling down his face.

“Nolan, baby are you okay, baby what’s wrong you’re worrying me.” You said grabbing onto his shoulder and running your hand through his hair.

“No..I’m not okay y/n... I’m scared...I’m scared as hell.” He said mumbling  

“Scared about what Nols? Baby please talk to me; you’re really worrying me here. I have never seen you like this.” You said wiping a tear away from his face

“I’m scared to death of losing you Y/N. Ever since this virus has gotten more and more out of control it has frightened me more each and every single day. Every time you walk out of our door it kills me not knowing if that will ever be the last time that I get to see your face, hold you and kiss you. I’m so damn afraid that one of these days you aren’t going to be walking through those doors again and right into my arms. I can’t imagine my life without you Y/N, I’m so incredibly proud of you don’t get me wrong you’re a fucking super hero in my eyes but you’re also my girlfriend who I’m madly in love with who one day I hope to make my wife and the mother of my children. It’s like I need that reassurance to know that every time you leave to fight this virus that you’ll be able to come home back to me. It's why I have arguments with my mother on daily occasions about why I decided to stay here instead of flying back home because of the season being postponed. It’s because in reality I could never live with myself if I did that and god forbid something happened to you and I wasn’t here and I couldn’t get to you! It’s why I leave you little notes with a rose in the bathroom so when you come home you know that I was thinking about you the whole entire time you were on the front lines at work. As much as you hate not being able to sleep properly lately, I kind of love it because I can be there to protect and comfort you through it all y/n. I feel better when I have you tightly in my arms, I feel better when I’m able to look at you from a far, I feel better when I can play with your hair and kiss your lips. Over all I’m a better person when I am with you, if you don’t believe ask Travis and Carter, they have heard it all.” Nolan said full on breaking down at this point

You have never seen Nolan this vulnerable before, in all the years that you have been dating. It killed you to see this side of him, you never realized how much this was also affecting him until now.

You grabbed his face with both of your hands and kissed him like you have never kissed him before. You pulled away and leaned your forehead against his and wiped away a few more tears. “Nolan Patrick, I promise you I will always come back home to you.” You said looking straight into those gorgeous eyes that you love so much.

You looked at the clock and saw that it was 7:05 in the morning, you were hoping to run into your boss so she can give you the all clear to head home. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen until a few hours and a break down alone in the hall way later. Your one coworker made sure to give Nolan an update every so often to let him know and that you were alright even though you weren’t. But she didn’t want to worry him anymore than he already was, plus she did it since you were too busy running around and forgot to leave your phone on the charging station to charge.

One O’clock...One O’clock in the afternoon that is the time that the clock read when you were able to finally clock out for the day. An eighteen-hour shift was way more than enough that you could ever possibly handle. You looked into the mirror and could barely recognize the woman staring back at you. It wasn’t you, this woman had dark bruised circles and lines around and under her eyes. This woman had broken and cracked lines on her cheek bones, where her mask had laid and dug into her. The only good thing that is coming out from these past horrific days is that your boss was giving you the next few days off to rest and compose yourself.

You drove yourself home and the moment you parked your car in the garage exhaustion took a new total on you. You didn’t member the elevator ride up to your floor, you didn’t remember walking down the hall to your apartment door and noticing all of the lovely and cute little notes that the children on your floor made for you and hung on the front door for you to see every day. You didn’t remember walking in and taking off your shoes and heading straight to the bathroom to take your routine hot shower. The only thing that brought you back to normal thought and time was the strong arms of Nolan wrapping you up tight into his arms while leaning next you on the cool bathroom floor.

“Shh, let it all out baby. It’s okay y/n I’m here..I’m here. Just please talk to me.” Nolan said while kissing your hair and rubbing your shoulder

“In the eighteen hours that I have worked I have seen way too many deaths than I ever wanted to see in my life Nolan. People are dying alone..because their loved ones aren’t allowed to come in contact with them. Its people of all ages young and old. Some I stood by their side because it broke my heart that they were dying alone. I broke down in a hallway at work, because I don’t understand how we are going to continue to fight this. You aren’t the only one who is completely scared to death, I am too. I am scared just as much as you are about not being able to return home and being able to crash into your arms. Nurses are already starting to get tested for the virus in different departments and floors and I’m so worried that soon we will have to be tested. I’m trying not to think of the worse, but what if I get tested and I’m positive I can’t imagine never being able to see or talk to you again. You deserve so much better”  

Nolan brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, brushed the falling tears away from your cheek with his thumb and turned your face so you were looking right at him. “Don’t think like that baby, you are one strong woman. Each and every single day I find more and more reasons to fall in love with you. This pandemic made me realize to appreciate and love the little things in life more, to hold and adore your loved ones a lot closer. I can’t imagine what you and your staff are going through day in and day out but know that I will always be here waiting for you, so I can ease your mind and try my best to take it all away from you. If anyone deserves better it’s you y/n, I’m just a bonehead professional hockey player. But you, you are a talented young woman changing the world every single time you out walk of this apartment. Here come with me, I have something I want to show you and I think that it will make you feel a lot better.” Nolan said picking you up and carrying you into your guys bedroom and placing you onto the bed.  

Nolan took out his iPad and handed it over to you and started playing a video for you. It was a video that the entire Flyers team put together thanking you for everything that you are doing during this crazy and difficult time. Even Gritty made a special appearance for you in the video which told made you light up and giggle. They even went on and talked about how such an amazing person you are and how much you mean to not only Nolan but to them as well. They were so grateful and thankful for you and it warmed your heart so much to hear them say it. The video ended with Nolan obviously getting emotional about much he is so proud of you and how he can’t believe that you were willing to get your degree early and risk your entire life just to save others without any hesitation.

Once the video ended you looked at Nolan and thanked him, this is what you needed to help you get through these times.

“I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us, if we can get through this together than we sure can get through anything in life together.” You said leaning in and closing the gap between you with a kiss

“As long as I have you in my arms, I don’t care where life take us. I realized that as long as you’re in my life that I have officially won no what matter. You’re my absolute everything y/n and I wouldn’t change it in a heartbeat.” Nolan said cupping your cheek and kissing you passionately  

Nolan was right, as long as you had each other you knew you were always going to be safe and have strong arms to come decompose home too.  

[creativeskullcreations]

Outside chapter 17: Dinner at Home

New chapter, new plot. Plus got to see a little bit of Danny in this 'verse. :D

And plans are in motion now. What's gonna happen? Stick around to find out.

Stacy sighed as she got into the truck, undoing the professional looking bun her hair was in. Scout popped out of her bag when she set it in the passenger seat, gasping over-dramatically.

"Oh stop that. You're fine." Stacy told her, buckling herself in. She started the car, and got ready to back out of the parking spot.

"Says you! You aren't spending eight hours a day in a fucking bubble!" The puppet flopped out of the bag. "Are we going home yet?"

"No, we've gotta go grocery shopping." Scout groaned and threw one arm over her eyes.

"Aw man. I hate Walmart." She grumbled. "There's always too many kids staring at me."

"It'll be fine. We can go look at movies again before we get the food."

"Okay fine." Scout climbed up the door to look out the window. "But I want Pop Tarts this time! Real ones!"

"I think I can do that." Stacy agreed as she pulled into the parking lot. She reached over and grabbed her wallet before grabbing Scout, letting her settle into the hood of her jacket as they entered the store.

They checked movies, though there was nothing new out yet that they hadn't seen, and then went on to collect the items on Stacy's list. A quick checkout later and they were finally on their way home. It could not have come soon enough for Scout.

The way home from Walmart wasn't too long, maybe a ten minute drive on a bad day. So they got home quick enough, and Scout watched as Stacy started to juggle the many bags. She ended up having to sting them onto her prosthetic in order to get them all into the house, but did succeed in getting all the bags to the kitchen.

Will was downstairs, as he usually was at this time of day. Though, whether he was working on computers or his... hobby, was anyone's guess. Scout certainly wasn't going to go down there to check, either way. Instead she Jumped to her room, which was almost more of a closet with how small it was. But, it held a bed(in her own size!), a charging station for the Switch, and sometimes Stacy's laptop when she could be bothered to drag it in there. The walls were lined with multiple shelves  with rope ladders connecting them, giving her a lot of storage space. Most of it was still empty, but she had collected a few things over the past several months.

Including clothes, apparently. Stacy had expressed concern with Scout running around with Mortimer's face on her shirt, and had enlisted Lisa to make her some new ones. Not that Scout could take her "shirt" off, of course, but she could wear other ones over it. Her favorite so far was a green one that said "eat dick and die". It was the best one, no contest, but Stacy wouldn't let her wear it outside the house.

"It's crude, and while I know you love that stuff it's not a good idea to wear that to my job. Someone could go to HR about it." Her Host had told her. Scout thought that was just stupid, but had agreed not to wear it to the workplace.

Stacy, meanwhile, worked on putting groceries away. It was good practice for her arm, especially in not crushing the groceries. She managed to mangle to bread only a little bit this time,  and figured she was probably doing better than she usually did. Scout reappeared a moment later, wearing the green shirt Lisa had made her. She handed over the Pop Tarts to the puppet, who immediately tore into the box to grab one of the foil packets.

"It's almost suppertime, so don't eat too many of those." Stacy warned her, only to be met by a muffled grunt in response. She sighed, and just collected the stuff she needed; Kraft macs n cheese, premade burger patties, and some green beans for a vegetable. Maybe not the best dinner, but Will was still working and they needed some food.

As she got the stove going, a pan of water for the mac set up, and the pan for the burgers got oiled. She selected three patties and put the rest back in the freezer for another day while things heated up. The beans she dumped in a  third pan on the back of the stove, adding a bit of salt for taste.

Scout watched all of this while softly crunching on the Pop Tarts. Months in the Host World, and she still didn't understand why Stacy wanted to cook. It was much easier and quicker to just grab one of the snacks laying around. Then again, maybe it had to do with that "nutrition" shit Will had told her about once.

As Stacy cooked she started typing out a message to Will on her phone, mostly to let him know dinner was done. He may have been just right in the basement, but she didn't want to go down there if she didn't have to. But as things finished cooking and she started to set the table, Will still hadn't come upstairs or even answered her text. And so, with a sigh, she covered the food and made her way downstairs.

"Will? It's time for dinner." She called as she reached the bottom of the stairs. No answer, but the muffled beat of heavy metal and the high pitched whine of a buzz-saw. She went through the door and was greeted with a mess. A wooden doll was stretched on the exam table in the middle, and Will was standing over it with the buzz-saw, shouting over the pounding music and whining noise.

"Hey, bitch! Make your boyfriend turn it down!" A red haired doll in a welded shut dog crate yelled over the music. She ignored it and instead punched a nearby gong with her metal fist. The resulting metal bang startled Will enough that he almost dropped the saw. He looked over and, once he spotted her, rushed to shut everything down.

"Yeah babe?" He asked, like he hadn't been threatening a sentient doll. The puppet in question was gagged, but sending a quite fierce death-glare at him.

"It's dinner time. Finish up here and come up, I made burgers." She told him, smiling a little as his face lit up.

"Score!" He quickly shoved the saw away before turning to take the doll off the table and put it into a cage. It swapped it's glare to her as he shoved it inside the crate, but Stacy just stared stonily back at it.

"Yeah, you keep trying that buddy. Nothing stops these two assholes. Ow!" The red headed doll sent Stacy his own death glare as she kicked his cage, knocking him over.

"Keep quiet." She growled out, not even looking at him. "Be thankful you're not tied up too."

"Yeah yeah. Go back to your favorite toy, Bitch." He huffed out. "Can't believe you keep that thing living up there with ya. If you had any kind of integrity, she'd be down here, in a cage, with the rest of us. Ow! Fuckin' shit would you stop that?!"

"Chucky, be quiet." A nearby doll in a ripped wedding dress scolded. "You know better than to antagonize her."

"What, it's true! That thing up there is just like us, but she gets to live in the lap of luxury! Hey!"

Stacy propped a foot up on the cage, tipping it onto it's edge and leaning down to glare at the toy inside. "You wanna stop talking now? Or do you want me to come back down here after dinner, Mr. Ray?"

The dolls said nothing more and Stacy righted the cage as Will finished up. The went back upstairs, locking the door behind them.

On the table was Scout, with half a burger patty in her mouth. She froze when the two Hosts walked into the room.

"Scout, seriously?" Stacy asked. "You're supposed to wait for us before you start eating."

Scout spat out the half eaten patty. "You were taking too long. I wanted to eat."

"You still should have waited. We only took a couple of minutes."

"But I didn't want to wait."

Stacy just sighed, and grabbed a bun out of the bag to squirt some ketchup onto. This was a fight just not worth getting into, especially when it wouldn't change anything.

Instead they made up their buns and sides, and were sat down to eat. Will prayed, and Stacy waited for him to be done before digging in. Scout didn't even wait, and just finished off her meat patty before digging into the macs and cheese.

The trio ate in silence, too hungry to talk at first. But eventually Stacy swallowed a bit, and decided she was sick of the quiet.

"So, you make any progress with the Gardner job?" She asked Will. Doll torturer or not, he did still have a "real" job, same as her.

"Eh, a little. Gotta ask who usually uses the computer, though. It's full of viruses from porn sites."

"Ew. Do they have a kid, or just a really stupid adult?"

"They've got a twelve year old girl, so she's the most likely suspect." Will swallowed another bite. "Miss Gardner is always away and working, like, three jobs so it's gotta be the kid or a friend she has."

"Who would go on a porn site? It's just naked sweaty Hosts, they're gross."

"Uh..." Stacy wondered how to handle this. And then wondered if Scout had ever gone on one of those sites, to know about that part. "It's... just a thing. Some people like to look at." She coughed. "Don't question it."

"Sure." Scout comped down on a green bean, and Stacy gave a soft sigh of relief. Scout was bad enough with her language already, and Stacy didn't want to risk her learning more words and terms.

Dinner ended soon after that, with Will loading the new dishwasher when everyone was done eating. He went back downstairs to finish up what he'd been doing. Stacy and Scout meanwhile went to play video-games. Well, Stacy played, while Scout watched her do quests from her lap.

"Go down that tunnel! Go! The left!" Scout pointed forcefully, waving her arms when she was ignored.

"No, that's where we came from." Stacy sighed, annoyed yet also a little amused. "Would you rather be the one playing?"

"No. I can't hold the controller." The Puppet waved her off before suddenly yelling. "You're not looting the bodies!"

"And you won't shut up." The Host muttered, looting a single body before going back to chasing the objective. "Are you sure you don't want to play?"

"How would I even fucking do that? Don't answer that."

"Okay." Stacy fought a few more Drauger. She thought about mentioning that she wouldn't really mind it, if Scout wanted to play, but decided against it. The body swap was still a sore subject, and she didn't want to ruin the good mood.

A ping from her phone, and she paused the game to answer a text from her brother. Being the nosy Puppet that she is, Scout tried to see what she was typing. "Who's that? I thought you didn't have friends."

"It's my younger brother, Danny. Doc wanted me to talk to him more, so I am."

Scout blinked. "You have a brother?" She thought back, tried to think if she'd ever seen any pictures of Stacy's family, but couldn't remember. Will she knew had a picture of his mother, but other than that neither Host talked about their families that much.

"Yeah." A couple of swipes, and she lowered the phone to show the Puppet a photo of a younger boy. He had the same reddish hair she did, but with much paler skin and brighter blue eyes. He was also wearing an absolutely atrocious looking sweater. "He's about eight or nine years younger than me, depending on who's had a birthday at that point."

"Oh..." Scout stared at the picture. "Why is he wearing headphones?"

"Those are part of his cochlear implants. He's deaf." She swiped back over to messaging to finish her text. "But he got the surgery at a young enough age that you pretty much can't tell. He's just got a little bit of a weird sounding accent."

"Oh, cool." Stacy finished her text and went back to the game, Scout watching quietly this time. "I have a brother."

Stacy fumbled an attack, but recovered quickly enough that she didn't die. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah. And three sisters." She squirmed a little, playing with the hem of her shirt. "... They probably all have Hosts by now. They were a lot better at... fitting in, than I was."

"Oh." Stacy paused the game, considering. "I'm... uh, do you you wanna talk about it?"

"Nah. I just thought you should know about them." She settled back, and Stacy unpaused the game. "I doubt I'm ever going to see them again, anyways. They were all assholes."

"Sounds like it, if they were able to "fit in" over there."

-------

Canon huffed, doing her best to try and suck in air. This was the... she didn't know how many times she'd been almost torn apart by the spells Mortimer was working on. Not really, of course, but it certainly felt like it. Like there was a scalpel carefully slicing into each stitch, cutting the small threads one by one.

"Hmm, looks like things are going well. I think I'm just about done with this spell." The magician commented, ignoring how the smaller Puppet lay limply on the floor. "Yes this plan has come together splendidly! Soon your sister will be right where she ought to be."

"... Great..." She groaned, trying to force herself upright. She failed, falling back to the floor with a soft thump. "I... can't... wait..." She had to finish the rhyme, at least, no matter how much it hurt.

"Indeed." He smirked, then grabbed a phone off the wall. "Oh Riley, we're just about ready to start! All we're missing now is the star! So gather your tools and a henchman, and go warm up the car."

"Preparations have already begun!" She relayed with an excited giggle. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

[theonlyjourneythatmatters]

Another day, another pound

So I know I said I was going to post yesterday, but I had a very long day and I was tired, so I didn't feel like it. I've struggled this week with motivation and energy and I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because of this heat- I don't know.

But with that said, I'm here now. And I've learned a few things! As I've said before, I am no expert and do not claim to be. I just know what's been working for me and that I can share that knowledge and experience with ya'll. So here we go.

What I learned this week:

It's better to get your bulk calories in at the beginning of the day. Breakfast should be your heaviest calorie meal. If you prefer a light breakfast, then focus your calories at lunch. This is because you're more likely to work off those calories during the day than you are at night after dinner. I know a lot of people prefer a heavy dinner- but this is a major reason why that weight doesn't come off like you want it to. You're not burning off those dinner calories!

Everything you do burns calories. Well, I didn't JUST learn this- I've known this. But for some reason, it didn't click! So don't think ONLY strenuous exercise will help you burn calories. Of course, exercise will help you burn them faster in a shorter amount of time, but if you can't get to the gym every day, you're still burning calories.

My apple watch tracks everything. I wear it from the time I get up in the morning til I'm ready to lay down for the night. And what's better than counting my steps? It counts the calories burned, too! Adding this at the end of the night helps me keep a better estimate of what I've taken in vs put out for the day for calories. Do yourself a favor- invest in something that keeps track of that (watch, fitbit, etc). It is well worth the money especially for weight loss.

Sundays are for meal-prep!!!

I meal prep for the following week(s) on Sundays. I typically prep every other Sunday for my work lunches. I do -not- meal prep for dinners.

Every Sunday, I prep my snacks for the week (usually strawberries and blue berries). If there's a new item I want to eat, I'll prep that up as well. Today, I wanted to add cabbage soup to the work lunch mix. SO, that's what I did. I made it in the instant pot, so this is the instant pot recipe- but this can be adapted for a regular stove top. I included pictures for reference so ya'll can see the sizes.

I also decided to meal-prep some breakfast; which I do not normally do. But the meal replacement shakes don't seem to be working as well as they had been previously, so I'm going to retire them for a bit.

Cabbage Soup

Ingredients:

2 heads cabbage, medium; chopped in large chunks

3 pieces of thick sliced bacon (I used Great Value brand); chopped and cooked

1 15oz can tomato sauce (Great Value)

1 bag Premium matchstick carrots (Bolthouse Farms- 3.5 oz bag)

1 sweet Vidalia onion, medium size; chopped in small pieces

1 tbsp. of the following: course sea salt, ground black pepper, onion powder, garlic powder, Slap ya Mama Cajun seasoning (or Tony Cacheres- I like my soup to have a bit of a kick, but you can decrease or increase this amount to suit your tastes)

7 cups water (divided- explained in steps)

Directions:

Put the instant pot on sauté and set for 20 minutes. Chop the 3 pieces of bacon into bite sized pieces and begin to cook them until brown. (I cooked mine a little longer so the crisp wasn't completely lost in the soup)

While the bacon is cooking, start cutting up both heads of cabbage. Cut them into 1-1 & 1/2 inch chunks after removing the core. Set aside in large bowl.

Once the bacon is cooked to your liking, add 1/2 cup of water to "deglaze" the pot. This gets up all of that stuck-to-the-bottom flavor that you need. DO NOT DRAIN THE BACON. We need the grease.

Begin to add the cabbage a hand full at a time, making sure it mixes with the water and bacon pieces. Allow each batch to wilt down some before adding the next batch. Continue with the cabbage until it's all incorporated. Once complete, add 1/2 cup of water.

Add the carrots and mix with the cabbage and bacon mixture.

Add all of your seasonings into 1 cup of water and pour over the top of the cabbage. You can mix it now if you want to, or you can wait.

Set the instant pot to pressure cook, and set for 10 minutes. Once the 10 minutes is passed, allow the pot to Natural Release for another 10 minutes. After the Natural Release is done, use the manual release. * NOTE: this is a dish with a good amount of liquid. Use a potholder to dish towel to put over the valve when you do the manual release to avoid any splattering liquids.

Once the pressure is released, stir the soup and taste test it. Add any seasonings you feel like it may need.

Chop the onion into small pieces and add it to the soup. Add the entire can of tomato soup, and 5 more cups of water. Stir well. Pressure cook for another 2 minutes and allow to Natural Release for another 10 minutes. Give it one last stir and taste test, and enjoy!

Step one: Sauté the bacon. Ya'll see all that bacony flavored goodness stuck to the bottom?? We WANT that.

Step two: Cut the cabbage. Size isn't that important- but you do want bigger pieces as cabbage likes to shrink!

Step Four & Five: Mix the cabbage and carrots and allow to wilt a little bit

Finished product: big bowl of deliciousness

This recipe yields 20 cups of soup, which is 10 full servings. There are 48 calories and and 4.8g of proteins in a single cup of soup- but I recommend 2 cups being the serving size.

*This recipe can be changed to fit your specific needs. I do not add meat to mine other than the bacon, but you can add chicken, stew meat, etc. You can also add different veggies. I sometimes add canned diced tomatoes but I didn't have any today. Just be mindful of the added calories and adjust the recipe to reflect that (especially if you're using a calorie counter that allows you to create customized meals).

I got 6 meals out of it (would have been the full 10 but I only had 6 available soup bowls); my husband and I had a bowl each, and so did my son. There was some left but no one wanted it so it got thrown out. It was delicious and filling. And the best part? SUPER low on calories! Most soups are; and I will be adding more to my blog as I make them! I make a knock-off Olive Garden Zuppa Toscano, so that might be my next endeavor!

Breakfast:

For this meal-prep, I used eggs, Conecuh sausage links, bacon (same as the one I used for the soup), and sausage patties.

Breakfast # 1: Scrambled eggs, thick sliced bacon, and Conecuh sausage

Ingredients

2 eggs, scrambled

1 tsp butter (I used Country Crock Churn Style)

1 tsp shredded cheese (I used shredded Colby and Monterey jack Great Value brand)

1 oz Conecuh sausage (you can use any type of sausage- I just prefer this brand)

1.5 slices of thick cut bacon (Great Value brand)

Course sea salt

Ground black pepper

Directions

Make 2 eggs, scrambled with butter and whatever seasonings of your choice

Add the cheese to the eggs when they're almost done cooking

Cook the bacon in the air fryer for 6 minutes (time varies depending on how crispy you like your bacon)

Cook the Conecuh in the air fryer for 7 minutes

Put the eggs in to a freezer-safe bowl

Cut the Conecuh and bacon into smaller pieces and put on top

Freeze

This recipe yields 1 full serving. It has 295 calories and 20.5 grams of protein.

Breakfast 2: Scrambled eggs, Conecuh sausage, and sausage patties

Ingredients

eggs, scrambled

1 tsp butter (I used Country Crock Churn Style)

1 tsp shredded cheese (I used shredded Colby and Monterey jack Great Value brand)

2 sausage patties (I used Tennessee Pride)

1 oz Conecuh sausage (any brand, this one is just my preference)

Course sea salt

Ground black pepper

Directions

Make 2 eggs, scrambled with butter and whatever seasonings of your choice

Add the cheese to the eggs when the eggs are almost done cooking

Cook the sausage patties in the air fryer for 8 minutes or until cooked through

Cook the Conecuh in the air fryer for 7 minutes

Put the eggs in to a freezer-safe bowl

Cut the Conecuh and sausage patties into smaller pieces and put on top

Freeze

This recipe yields 1 full serving. It has 481 calories and 29.6g of protein.

But enough of the recipes......

Like I stated previously, it's important to get the bulk of your calories during the day so you have the opportunity to burn them off. I've just been walking. I walk at work, I walk around the house- when I shop, that's when I get a lot of steps in.

Granted, walking doesn't burn a lot of calories. However, if you have your tracker on, throughout the entire day, you'll have burned at least 1 full meal off. It is also especially important to stay hydrated. Water no only helps with cutting down muscle pain (when you exercise), drinking a full 8 oz of water before each meal and after can help you feel fuller faster, and feel fuller longer.

I purchased a QuiFit 1 Gallon Water Bottle from Amazon. It arrived today and I plan to use it at work. I have the worst time drinking enough at work. The water from the sink tastes funny. We have a fountain that fills water bottles, but and don't always remember to bring a bottle of water that I can refill later. The simplest solution was to buy a water bottle and keep it at work.

I think that's all for today, guys. I have school work to do! I'll make a post later next week (unless something cool happens before then that I need to mention) that details what types of foods I eat for dinner since I do not meal prep those.

Have a great day, and thanks for reading!

XOXO, Lauren <3

[magpiemorality]

Bring It On, Moceit/Moremus, 5/5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  AO3

We’re here; the final part. The happy ending, hopefully… 

Huge thanks to @littlestr​ for the original prompts! And thank you all for following along with this fun weekend jaunt, I have come to adore these boys and they’ve outgrown the little prompt oneshot they were supposed to exist in, constantly yelling at me for more attention until now we’re here. There’s even art HERE by @sometimeswritingsometimesdying go look at it!!!! 

Without further ado; please enjoy.

Warnings: dismissal of polyamory (character doesn’t believe it’s real/feasible), swearing 

Patton Sanders was the prettiest boy in the whole college...

***

Patton Sanders was the prettiest boy in the whole college. He wasn’t being vain or anything; there had once been an online poll on the college gossip blog and he’d won hands down. It was just fact at this point. 

He was also currently (in his own internal poll) the saddest. Everything had been going so great (shut up Remy it had) and then it had taken a turn towards the endgame and then- 

Well, what had happened with Remus? Patton still wasn’t sure, and Remus was ignoring his texts so he had no clues to go on apart from the fact that one minute the boy was giving him some very upmarket salmon filets and pulling off a classing hair-behind-the-ear move that would have possibly even led to a kiss- and then nothing. Remus had suddenly… changed his mind? He’d freaked out for some reason anyway, and had just run off. 

Since then nothing, nada, total radio silence (yeah so it had only been two days so what Remy shh) and Patton was falling into despair. There had to have been a vital signal he’d missed somewhere that would have turned the whole thing around. 

Maybe the fish was a clue? 

He and Remy had spent a full evening poring over the fish. Was it a secret message? Symbolic in some way? Was there something written on it? Patton had drawn the line at trying to open it up and check the inside because he still very much wanted to save it to cook for Remus some day, so it had been rehomed in the freezer after a careful perusal of storage methods on Google. 

And there was a whole other problem now too- Dex was avoiding him. Over text, on campus, in the cafe; everywhere Patton could think of to try and run into his second paramour turned out to be a bust, and the only way (again, two days was ages Remy don’t be a bitch) he could have avoided even accidentally bumping into Dex for that long was if the other boy was actively staying away. 

Those texts went unanswered too. 

(Remy was starting to lose patience.)

“But I just don’t-”

“Oh my god gurl please don’t finish that sentence!” Patton’s very best friend and emotional support gay snapped, slamming his Starbucks cup down on the table (situated outside the cafe, so they could be seen by as many people as possible, of course). “I literally can not with you.”

Patton’s nose wrinkled. “My tutor Logan says we shouldn’t say literally when it’s not grammatically accurate.” 

“Your tutor Logan can literally suck my dick. No seriously; he’s hot, get me his number and I will consider literally forgiving you.” 

“But-”

“Baby, sugarplum, Patty-cake- for the love of all things caffeine; just take a chill pill okay? Boys will come and go in your life and if they’re worth anything at all then they’ll be back. Besides, they’re probably just duking it out over you somewhere. Maybe shirtless. Maybe there’s baby oil…” Remy trailed off with unfocused eyes, sipping his drink absently and Patton sighed, because even that nice (very nice, saved for later) image not enough to dispel his melancholy. 

He checked his phone again for the millionth time that day. Spring break was coming up and the cheer squad Whatsapp was going wild with anticipation, but Patton wasn’t in the mood. He’d foolishly hoped that one of his handsome men was going to sweep him off his feet and away to somewhere spectacular for the holiday, but that hope had tanked dramatically in light of recent developments. Normally that would’ve just made him shift his hopes towards prom, but it wasn’t enough of a big deal as it had always been in high school, and it was really more of a friends’ night out situation. Not the sort of time to be expecting big dramatic declarations of love, you know or whatever. 

No, the universe seemed to be spelling out ‘Patton Sanders is going to die alone’ pretty hard, even if Remy wasn’t in agreement. 

“Who are you texting, anyway?” Patton asked, picking at his nail polish with a pout. “Let me at least live vicariously through you until I waste away, a tragic damsel whose beauty was lost to time…" 

Remy looked up, talking around the straw in his mouth. “Jesus you’ve got it bad. And it’s none of your business, P, I’ll tell you when you aren’t moping.” The way Patton visibly and genuinely sagged seemed to revive Remy’s best friend sympathy instincts, because he quickly finished his drink, took Patton by the hands and pulled him up. “Come on cupcake, it’s the weekend and we’re going shopping. Because no matter what happens with your boys- it’s nearly Spring Break and we are gonna look hot to trot!” 

And who was Patton to disagree with such flawless logic? 

***

Maybe there was something to be said for the mystical powers of retail therapy, because when Patton flopped down on his bed that evening there was a text notification from a blocked number on his phone that made his heart beat wildly. 

It contained an invitation, to meet the following weekend at a destination that would be sent in a future text, and it was signed ‘from your not-so-secret admirer’. 

The week went by horribly slowly. Even practice seemed to drag, and yet… 

Suddenly Dex was meeting him every day with his tea again, no word of explanation but a soft smirk always hovering around his lips, lighting up his usually serious face. 

Suddenly Remus was watching and winking at him from across the gym- not approaching this time round but offering little shy waves and offering help when he could, putting away the gym equipment or offering a protein bar on the way out just as Patton’s stomach started to rumble. 

Something was up, and Patton’s head was in a spin, but it was oddly perfect. 

Even Remy couldn’t believe the change. 

“You’re totally one hundred percent sure they’re not on drugs?” Patton shot him a look. “Okay just double checking. Joined a cult? Kidnapped by aliens and replaced by pod people? Serial killers planning on luring you in an-”

“God, Remy, no!” He hit his friend with his pillow, laughing at the offended noises Remy made before he joined Patton in giggling on the bed. “No I think they just… sorted something out. It’s weird though, right? Like there’s something weird happening? Not bad weird, but…”

Remy mirrored his shrug. “You’ll have to wait and see what happens with your ‘not so secret admirer’,” he said, singing the name. “Do you have any clue which one of them it is?” 

“Well no. But surely it’s Dex? I mean, he’s Dexter, he can sort out a blocked number. It’s… Remus is a total carebear but he’s not exactly James Bond, you know? It’s got to be Dex. But he’d just out and say it, I know he would, so I don’t- I can’t be sure. Remus is the dramatic one…” Round and round in circles they went but never came any closer to solving the puzzle. 

Friday came and went and at long last it was time to head out for the grand reveal. Remy had helped him get dressed (cute but weather appropriate and with good running shoes, just in case) and they were waiting in the living room for the address to come through. 

His phone buzzed. 

Once they’d stopped shrieking in excitement they googled and found the address was of the same cafe he’d spent so much time in with Dexter over Winter break, which- it was probably not a good thing that his heart had sunk over ruling out the possibility this was Remus all along, right? It had simultaneously skipped a beat at the confirmation that it was Dex, so… You win some, you lose some he supposed. 

Crunch time. 

He hurried along the streets- glad for the tiny size of their college town and for the lack of rain on the crisp February morning- and slipped into the cafe. Only to see not Dexter O’Reilly sat inside waiting for him, but- 

“Remus?!”

***

Let it be known that Remus Duke was not the prettiest boy in the whole college, far from it. Nor was he the most intelligent, nor the richest nor the most popular. However what Remus Duke had in spades was earnest charm. It was lethal in a one on one situation, and he made sparing use of it so as not to abuse his power. 

Let it also be known that Dexter O’Reilly was far from immune to said charm, especially when it was turned on him from a few feet across a brightly coloured, messy, but shockingly cosy room in a frat house on Greek Row. If Dexter was the Slytherin here then Remus was almost certainly the Hufflepuff who would drive said Slytherin to world domination. 

In this case, of course, world domination was replaced by Patton Sanders, and the prospect of getting to date him. The concept was the same though, and the intense level of detail required to get the plan exactly right was too. 

In fact, Dex had stayed way later that night than either of them had expected, as they’d plotted and planned and discussed various ways of making their dreams reality. What Remus lacked in book smarts, he made up for with an innate talent for asking exactly the right questions to fix any inefficiencies or problems before they ever arose, and you bet Dex had made a mental note of that for future reference. 

What neither of them had really considered, was the exact reaction Patton would have when he walked in the cafe door on Saturday morning to find not just Remus, but- 

***

“And Dex!” Patton’s eyes were big and round as they switched back and forth and back and forth between the two young men. He clutched his phone in his hand like a lifeline, wondering if this was going to turn out to be the worst day of his life so far, rather than the tentative best he’d pencilled it in as… 

“Hey,” Remus smiled hopefully at him, standing up and awkwardly trying to gesture Patton to his seat like a magician’s glamorous assistant or something. Patton took pity on him and did in fact sit, still mostly set to ????? and !!!!!! and only just managing to process what was happening. 

Opposite him, Dexter crossed one long leg over the other, and Remus perched on the edge of the third chair like he was physically restraining himself from getting up to go be closer to Patton. Which wasn’t entirely untrue, as it happened. 

“Guys, what’s going on?” Patton asked weakly, looking to Dex for guidance, but it was Remus who replied. 

“Well,” he started, twisting his hands around nervously. “We ended up having a bit of a chat, last week. I um, I- oh fuck what was I supposed to say?!” Dexter snorted softly and Remus pouted at him. “You’re no help, we said we’d do this together!” 

You could’ve knocked Patton over with a feather. His mouth actually fell open at the display of camraderie. Suddenly the serial killer theory had merit. 

“Patton. Through a convoluted set of circumstances we ended up discussing our possible futures… with you. It’s fairly clear you’re struggling to choose between the two of us, right?” He waited until Patton nodded slowly. “So we thought… why choose?” 

“My brother Roman told me about this class he took last semester see, about like, changing identities or something. People, basically, and he heard about all these different things they never taught us in school! And one of them was-”

“Wait,” Patton interjected, holding a hand out because he was ninety percent sure he knew where this was going, but- “That’s real? Having… sharing partners is real? It actually works?” 

“Hey how’d you know what I was going to s-”

“Yes, darling, yes to all of that. If the people involved are honest and open and willing to work on it,” Dexter interrupted, smiling at Patton. Remus was also looking at him, nearly bouncing in his seat with excitement, overflowing with energy like always. Gosh Patton loved his energy, his enthusiasm for life, his potential, ahem, stamina… 

He turned back to Dex, only to be filled with warmth at the look he was getting, because he loved the way Dex gave him special smiles he gave no one else. He loved his soft, clever words, and his gentleness. 

Oh. 

“Oh.” There was quiet for a moment before the two hopefuls shared a concerned glance. 

“Patton?” Dexter prompted. “Is that… a good ‘oh’ or a bad one? We uh, we know it’s kinda not what you were expecting, probably?”

“And you can take your time to think about it!”

“Thank you Remus, yes. You can take your time, darling. But we would like to try this with you. However you like. And if we want to change things down the road… we can talk about that too.”

Patton was the prettiest boy in the whole college. Seemed like today he was the luckiest, too. “Yes!” He shouted, leaping out of his seat to grab them both in a hug, dragging them together forcefully. “Oh gosh, goodness, yes, that sounds perfect!” He gave them each a kiss on the nearest cheek and sat back down, cheeks red but smile bright, holding his hands out for them to take one each. 

“This is going to be so cool!” Remus crowed, and Dex chuckled softly at his exuberance, squeezing Patton’s fingers, his eyes betraying his own quiet excitement.

Yeah, Patton thought. It really was. 

--

Bonus 1 | Bonus 2 | Bonus 3 | Bonus 4

[sparkie96]

24, age difference

“24: I’ve never met someone who makes me feel like this.”

For the first time in a long time, Leon felt butterflies in his stomach. The college student picked up another box and carried it into the ranch style home. He had recently moved out of his dorm, and Ark had moved out as well due to a situation that nearly got Leon and Ark killed. 

And Leon felt like it had been his fault, despite everyone telling him otherwise. Sure, he didn’t lead Curtis Miller on or even show interest, but had he turned him in for stalking earlier, Curtis wouldn’t have broken into their dorm, hurt Ark and then nearly raped Leon. 

Good thing Chris hadn’t been too far from the campus and good thing Leon had been in the middle of a call with him when Curtis broke in. Chris had come from a hang-out with his own companions and taught Curtis a lesson, with his fists, before the cops showed up. The Scientist had been arrested and Leon and Ark had been checked out, Chris holding Leon protectively, reassuring him that Curtis would be going away for a while. 

Sadly, the courts disagreed, saying that Curtis needed help and something like this could “ruin a man’s future and reputation”, having done good work outside of just teaching a College Forensics and Sciences Class. He had been put on house-arrest, but Leon didn’t feel safe and he feared for himself and Ark. 

So, Ark had been moved into Piers and Finn’s apartment way off-campus, but still close enough to attend classes, and Leon moved in with Chris, not wanting to move back in with his mother and worrying her even more. She was strong, but he didn’t want to add to whatever was going on in her own life. Leon hugged Ark and promised to hang-out and game like nothing ever happened, even scheduling to set-up for their YouTube videos. Ark holding him to that. 

Which is how Leon ended up here, after a long truck ride to Chris’s house. He didn’t live as close to the campus as Piers and Finn, but it was still reasonably close. The house was in a quiet neighborhood, the residents needing to use a keycard to get into the community. There was a pool and playground, as well as a sort of Sports Club or something that held the gym, yoga classes and even a daycare center. 

All in all, Leon didn’t picture Chris living in such a normal area. The man explained that it made him feel a bit better and admittedly safer. Normal even, due to how his not-so normal job made him feel. 

Leon was also pleasantly surprised to learn that Chris had two dogs. A very big German Shepherd named Brutus, who stood on guard and watched Leon’s every move. Chris also had a shorter and chubbier English Bulldog named Flash. He was a bit more laid back and lazy, but a happy dog that seemingly loved Leon already, following Leon in and out of the house as he unpacked his things in the main bedroom. 

“Brutus is actually my friend DC’s dog,” Chris explained once Leon got settled in, “But DC and his family are visiting family in Denver and asked me to watch him for the week." 

Leon smiled, having changed into sweats and a sweatshirt, before sitting on the couch. An "oof!” left the younger as Flash dashed at the couch, nearly tackling the college student and sitting in Leon’s lap. Leon giggled as Flash showered him in kisses. 

“I think Flash likes you.” Chris chuckled.

“I like him too.” Leon laughed, petting the dog’s head before looking at Brutus, who simply watched from afar, “Brutus on the other hand…I don’t think he likes me." 

Chris waved toward Brutus, petting the dog’s head fondly, the German Shepherd making a sound of acknowledgement, "He’s not sure what to make of you. He used to be a combat and search and rescue canine for the BSAA, though he was mostly used with human targets. He’ll figure out that you’re not here to hurt anyone and he’ll warm up to you." 

Leon smiled as he continued to pet Flash, accepting Chris’s hands as the man gently shooed Flash away and helped Leon off of the couch, "Why don’t I give you a proper tour?" 

Leon beamed as he got up, following Chris around as the man showed him where everything was. He had seen and known about a lot of this stuff due to how often he stayed over, but it was the first time seeing Chris’s office, garage, basement / family room. He even got to see the pool and the small hide-out shed. Just in case Claire or someone volunteered his home for the next Christmas Party or something. 

"I also kind of, sort of, have a fortified "panic room”.“ Chris admitted sheepishly, "That’s in the basement behind the freezer. That’s also where one of my gun safes is." 

Leon gave a curious look, "Panic Room? And one of your gun stages? How many do you have?" 

Chris gave a nervous chuckle and scratched the back of his neck, ”…uh…maybe I shouldn’t tell you. You would think I was weird, especially if you found out where they were.“ 

"Well, given what you do, I think it would be pretty rational.” Leon pointed out, “C'mon, you can tell me." 

Chris gave a contemplating look before giving a defeated sigh, ”…I have a gun safe in the basement, two in the living room, one in each of my bedside tables, one in the office and one in the shed. I also always have a weapon in reach…even in the bathroom.“ 

Leon blinked, taking a moment to process the information before giving a small shrug, "Well…gotta always be prepared." 

Chris raised a brow and a small smile, "Really?" 

Leon gave a nod, "Yup. So, no one would mess with you if they broke into your home.” He reassured the elder.

That made Chris’s smile even bigger, and Leon couldn’t get enough of it or the man who wore it. Leon couldn’t deny that he kind of looked up to Chris in a way…admired him even. This man was the one he never wanted to lose and he would be damned if he let anyone hurt him. 

…was it weird to inadvertently threaten harm to anyone who dared hurt a man he was only dating? It wasn’t weird, right? 

After another brief tour of the house, Chris and Leon had decided that it was time to start making dinner. Leon felt like they were in sync as he and Chris both agreed on grilling up some burgers and hot dogs for dinner. Luckily, Chris had some ground beef in the freezer and a pack of hot dogs in the drawer in the fridge. He also picked up some rolls ahead of time, thinking of making burgers and dogs earlier this week. 

He and Leon had a grand old time in the kitchen making the burgers and cutting up some vegetables. Chris playfully scolded Leon, telling the younger to stop eating all the pickles or else he wouldn’t have any leftover for dinner. 

“Any preferences on how you like your burgers?” Chris asked, firing up the grill. 

Leon sat at the patio table, enjoying the sun and the nice weather that they had been having recently. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, “Hm…I usually get mine done medium rare.” He admitted, “So, I guess medium rare.” 

Chris chuckled, “A man after my own heart.” 

Leon beamed up at him, watching as Chris threw the patties and the hot dogs on the grill. Flash and Brutus sat at Chris’s feet, Brutus taking on a guard position while Flash stared up at the man, waiting for him to drop some food. 

Leon chuckled, “I think you got yourself an audience.” 

The elder laughed as well, “Yeah, Flash is my grilling buddy because he usually gets something out of it.” Chris looked down at the bulldog, “But Stacy at the vet says I can’t give you anymore table food because you’re supposed to be on a diet, buddy.” 

Flash made a noise that was a mix of a groan and a whine of disapproval, a chubby paw gently scratching at Chris’s pant-leg. Chris gave him a look, and then a smile, cutting one of the hot dogs in half. He blew on one of the halves before handing it to the dog, Flash happily and excitedly gobbling it up. Chris patted him on his head, telling the dog not to tell Stacy. Chris looked to Brutus handing him the other half. Brutus turned his nose at it at first, taking another sniff before gently taking it from Chris’s fingers. He ate his more slowly, only eating a part of it before leaving the other piece untouched. Flash sneakily waddled over and ate the rest of it. 

Chris looked to Leon over his shoulder, “You saw nothing.” he chuckled. 

Leon canted his head with a mock look of confusion, “Saw what?” 

“Exactly.” 

The burgers and hot dogs were done in no time, Chris and Leon having dinner outside. Once the table was set and the grill was turned off, Chris sat across from Leon. They served each other food, talking about what they liked and didn’t like on their burgers and hot dogs, Leon poking fun at the fact that Chris liked relish and mustard on his hot dogs but not ketchup. Chris on the other hand couldn’t understand why Leon didn’t like relish at all. 

“You like pickles, right?” Chris asked. 

Leon gave a nod, digging into his hot dog first, chewing and swallowing before speaking, “Yup.” 

“Well, it’s pretty much the same thing…just mashed.” Chris explained.

“No it’s not.” Leon disagreed, wrinkling his nose, “It’s more like a sweetened cucumber mash with a weird taste and an even weirder aftertaste.” 

Chris gave a playful look of disbelief, “You’re crazy.” 

They gave each other serious looks before breaking out into a fit of laughter, the laughter dying down into chuckles before they both sighed, staring at each other lovingly while they ate. Leon turned away first, a rosy blush on his cheeks and a shy smile on his lips. He felt his heart flutter in his chest and felt like there were butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. 

Unbeknownst to Leon, Chris felt the same, a happy smile on his own lips and a fluttering feeling in his chest and stomach. He couldn’t believe that any of this was real, that this beautiful man loved him and actually felt comfortable enough to move in with him. He trusted him enough to let Chris handle the asshole harassing him. Chris would never let anything happen to Leon. He would protect him. He loved him. 

They looked up at each other once more, “I-oh…” They said at the same time, but stopped to let the other speak. 

“You first.” Chris insisted. 

Leon smiled, “I wanted to thank you…for everything. For always being there and helping me…and with Curtis. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

Chris smiled as well, a light blush on his cheeks at the younger’s admission, “I don’t know what I would do without you either…I’ve never met someone who made me feel this way…” 

The college student reached over and set his hand on top of Chris’s, turning it over to hold it in his own, making Chris flush an even deeper shade of red, “I love you.” Leon admitted. 

Chris looked up at him with surprised eyes. Though, he didn’t know why he was surprised, he had always sort of known. He just hadn’t expected Leon to say it first. 

He gently squeezed Leon’s hand in return, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it softly, “I love you too, Leon.” 

Leon sat up a bit straighter in his chair, a smile that was both one of relief and happiness on his lips. He leaned forward slightly, pulling Chris’s hand to his own lips and doing the same. It was their own little ritual in a way. Their own way of letting the other that they loved them without always saying it out loud. They didn’t need to say it out loud for it to be true. They just knew. 

After giving each other one more reassuring squeeze, they went back to eating their dinners, talking about plans for the upcoming weekend. 

——————

Ao3, Ko-Fi

[exasperatedmoron]

5+1 times Barry says he has a boyfriend and the 1 time they realized he wasn’t kidding

*1*

Cisco walked into the lounge with his arms full of chocolate, movies and those sappy scented candles. It was Valentine’s Day and him, Barry and Caitlin had a tradition of spending it together since they all had very, very miserable love lives.

“Who’s ready to cry over a dying dog!”

Caitlin was already sitting on one of the beanbags Barry placed in front of the mini-movie screen. She raised her glass of wine towards Cisco, already dressed in her sweats without makeup on. Barry, however, was dressed up in a maroon button down and hair gelled up. He was setting the stereotypical ‘ILY’ teddy bears on Cisco and Cait’s beanbags.

“Why do you look like you’re going on a date, Sonic?”

“Erm. Cause I am?”

“With who?” Cisco tried to think back to anyone Barry has interacted with recently, assuming it was someone new. The only new friends he’s made so far were Ralph and Julian. “Oh no. It’s not Ralph, is it? You always seemed to be in each other personal spaces”

Barry looked affronted, even holding up his hand to his chest. “Cisco, no! I- What- Cisco!” Barry’s face contorted as he tried to come up with words. “It’s not him! It’s... someone you guys know. But that’s all I’m saying!”

Barry stood his ground and seemed very insistent on keeping quiet, but Cait and Cisco were invested now. Barry’s last crush was on Iris and that ended years ago before she and Eddie got married. In those years, Barry has only gone on two dates - with Patty and Linda - and both didn’t work out so well. But even in those cases, Cisco and Caitlin were updated (like best friends were supposed to be).

Huh. “Why didn’t you tell us about this date?” “It was very last minute. I didn’t even know he was in town today. Turns out he was so... yea.”

“So, he travels out of town?” “Yeah, he does.”

“Huh. What’s his job?” “Oh, you know. A little bit of this and that. He deals with... uhm... artefacts? and... problem... solving?”

Wow. Pinocchio would be disappointed.

“Okay. Have fun on your date.

Barry nearly stumbled on his own two feet getting out of there, yelling a ‘Bye Cait! Cisco!”. Cisco picked up a beer from the chiller and sat beside Cait as she pressed ‘play’ on the remove.

“He doesn’t really have a date, doesn’t he?”

“Nope.”

*2*

Iris barged into Barry’s apartment, hands full of take-out and ice cream. Normally, she’d pick the lock to get in, but for some reason, Barry upgraded his lock. It was the same as before, so she could still use her key but it couldn’t be picked so easily anymore. Barry must have listened to her, for once.

“Barry! Eddie and I are fighting so I need to have a Disney marathon! Get your lazy ass out of bed!”

Iris heard him squeak, followed by a ‘thud’ as he fell out of his bed. She smiled to herself and placed the take out on the table, knowing that the speedster would be less grumpy once he saw the food. She made her way to the kitchen to put the ice cream in the freezer for later when he saw that his freezer wasn’t empty. Her eyebrows scrunched up as she opened the fridge and saw that it filled too.

Barry never had a filled fridge. Not even a half-filled fridge. Even before he was a speedster, he survived of ramen and pizza. The most his fridge would contain was leftovers from his junk or from whatever meal Iris brought over. It was even worse when he became a speedster, almost causing his fridge to be obsolete.

“Iris? Why are you staring at my fridge?”

Iris snapped out of her thoughts and turned around to stare at her foster brother with bed hair. “Since when did you have food?”

Barry looked confused for a second, eyes going from her to the fridge. As soon as his eyes saw the contents of it, a small smile grew on his face. “Oh. My boyfriend must have left some last night.”

Iris’s thoughts on food and Eddie were completely pushed back. “Boyfriend? Bartholomew Henry Allen, are you having secret rendezvous with a man and not telling me?” “Geez Iris, you’re almost as dramatic as he is. And no, I told you about him, remember?” 

Now it was Iris’ turn to be confused. “When?” “On Valentine’s Day? I asked you to fill my place with Cait and Cisco since Eddie had work and I had a date?”

Ohhhh. “Barry. You don’t need to use your imaginary boyfriend as an excuse to have your fridge stocked. You could just say it as it is. You finally decided to act like an adult instead of a bachelor.”

“What? What do you mean bachelor? Wait - What do you mean imaginary?”

“Cisco and Caitlin told me you made up a fake boyfriend so that it’d hurt less when you stood them up. It’s fine though, they took pity on you so they aren’t mad.”

“Fake?! I-Wha-They-”

“Barry relax. Come on, heat up your ‘boyfriend’s’ leftovers. I wanna taste it while telling you about how much of an overprotective husband Eddie is being again.”

Hours later, the two were stretched over the couch with cartons of ice cream balancing on their torsos while watching Singin’ in the Rain.

“I really do have a boyfriend, you know?”

“Sure you do.”

*3*

Barry was late for work (again) and Joe had to cover for him (again). He needed the results for a case so he sat on Barry’s chair and waited for the CSI to arrive. Soon enough, said CSI ran into the lab, clutching onto his messenger bag and a mini-cooler.

Julian took one look at him and snorted, “You sure that’s enough food, Allen? I can call a caterer if you’d like.” “Shut it, Jullian.”

“Joe! Hey I -” “You woke up sick, so I sent you to a doctor to get you checked up. I’m assuming you’re feeling better and ‘bout to give me the results for the Williams case I needed two hours ago?”

Barry nodded and tossed his bag to his chair as he frantically sifted through his desk, ignoring Julian’s comment about tidiness. He plucked out a file from the bottom of the clutter and passed it to Joe. “Thanks Barr. Now, why were you really late? Mugging? Little ol’ lady bein’ robbed?”

Barry started to scratch the back of his neck, face turning a light shade of pink as he avoided eye contact with Joe. “Ah. Actually, I overslept. I stayed over at my boyfriend’s place last night so... yeah.”

Joe’s eyes went wide, almost popping out of his head, “Boyfriend?”.

“Dear Lord, not this again,” Jullian mumbled from behind Joe as he continued writing his report. Joe turned around to look at Julian with an incredulous look. “You knew Barry had a boyfriend?”

“I knew Barry had an imaginary boyfriend. Cait told me about the Valentine’s Day Ditch.”

“Imaginary - What?! And seriously? You guys are putting a name to it?!” Barry nearly dropped the things he was holding on the floor.

“Ah. Iris told me about him too.”

“Joe, I really - “

“Barry, if you overslept, that’s fine. You didn’t need to lie. We know you’re workin’ hard on Flash duties anyway.”

“No, Joe. Really I-”

Barry was interrupted by Captain Singh’s appearance at the door, spurring the three back to work. Before Joe left though, he patted Barry on the back.

“You gotta work on your lying skills. Caitlin, Cisco and Iris saw right through you.”

Barry sighed.

*4*

Felicity and Barry were watching a movie marathon in the Arrow cave while Oliver was busy doing mayor stuff. The team needed Barry’s help with a meta who moved to Star City, so Barry ran over and even after the threat was cleared, he stayed for a while to catch up with his best friend.

Barry was finally starting to relax until Felicity just had to bring up a certain topic. “So what’s this I hear about you making up a fake boyfriend to get out of situations?”

Barry groaned into the popcorn.

“He’s not fake,” Barry asserted. “They just think he is because I won’t give out any details.”

“And why not?”

“Because he... well... it’ll be a disaster.”

“Okay,” Felicity sighed, setting down her popcorn, “I’ll play along. Why would it be a disaster?”

“They... Well, he doesn’t have the best reputation?” “Uh huh. And what kind of ‘reputation’ does he have?” Felicity leaned forward, eyes staring into Barry, trying to get him to slip.

“Well. You know, it depends. A bad but good one. But to some people, it’s a good one with a little bit of bad. He’s in the middle of good and bad? Or kinda like a see-saw, what side he’s on depends on the day.”

“Barry, this is why people don’t believe you.” "Not again.”

“You either need to work on your lying skills, or give out details that aren’t so vague.”

Barry groaned. He was so done. He picked up his popcorn and tossed one piece to Felicity’s head.

“Just eat your popcorn.”

*5*

Captain Singh was reading a report when Barry knocked on his door. “Come in, Allen.”

Barry walked into the office and placed a file on David’s desk. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped and turned to David. “Captain?” he asked.

“Yes, Allen?” “Can I request for a day off on the 18th?” David checked the calendar on the desk and saw that most of the other CSIs will be in.

“Okay, submit a proper request and I’ll approve it. If I may ask, why do you need to take it? Albert seems to be less of a pain as he was before.”

Barry chuckled as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “Actually it’s my boyfriend and I’s one and a half year anniversary. Our one year didn’t end well, so I wanted to make it up to him.”

David sighed and removed his glasses, turning to face Barry properly. “Barry, I’ve known you for over 10 years now. I think by now, you would know that excuses like that wouldn’t work on me.’’

Barry looked confused and a little bit upset at his words. “Sir? I...’’

“If it didn’t work on Joe, Iris, or your other friends, it won’t work for me too. I know you’re the Flash, Barry. You didn’t need to come up with an elaborate fib like that.” Barry looked like he was about to protest or deny any allegations, but his shoulders just slumped. Barry looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at the world. He nodded and turned again to walk out when David mentioned something.

“Also, if you ever used that excuse again, one year anniversary sounds more believable than one and a half.”

“Of course. Sure thing, Captain.”

+1

Since Joe found out Captain Singh knew about Barry being the Flash, he decided to let his old friend around the labs, re-introducing him to Cisco and other members of the team. David was slightly surprised at how many people he knew were in the team (”Albert and Dibny? You guys are involved in this?”). He was surprised at their involvement, but at the same time, he wasn’t. Barry had the type of personality that just drew people in.

Just as he was talking to Caitlin in the med bay, a series of beeps emitted from the computers in the cortex. “What’s that? Is that some kind of Flash alert?” he asked as him and Caitlin walked into the cortex where the rest were in, excluding Barry, who was patrolling the city.

“Nah, that just means the waverider landed on the roof. The Legends will probably stop by here to say hi before visiting their families.” Cisco answered as he had another lollipop in his mouth. Caitlin scowled at him and he removed the sweet from his mouth, not wanting her to go into another tirade about dental health.

Minutes later, a group of nine walked into the cortex, exchanging pleasantries with team Flash.

“Didn’t know the Captain of the CCPD is now on team Flash.”

David turned away from his conversation with Ray Palmer and saw Leonard Snart leaning against a wall, smirking. Beside him was his partner Mick Rory, who was being fussed over by Caitlin (”You keep letting your burns heal like that and I’ll cover it in ice until it reaches your bones.”) “Leonard Snart. Didn't know you played on the hero’s side now.”

“Well, I tend to swing both ways.” He turned and sauntered off to Cisco, but not before giving David one last smug look, causing him to think that there was a double meaning behind what Snart said.

“Hey, where’s Barry?” Sara asked Joe, who was catching up with Stein. “He’s on patrol. I can call him back.” Joe went over to the computers and patched in through Barry’s comms.

“Hey Barr, the Legends are here. Come over and say hi.” “The Legends?” Barry sounded excited, but team Flash thought it was because he got to catch up with his friends. The Legends, on the other hand, gave Len a quick look before returning to their conversations.

Five seconds later, a figure appeared in the middle of the cortex, followed by a lightning trail. “Barry!” Sara exclaimed as she threw her arms around the speedster, still in his Flash regalia. “Hey Sara, how was the 1800s?” “Sexist. But I kicked some bigots into a river, so I’d say it went well.” Barry and Sara exchanged a few words before someone in the corner coughed.

“Lenny!” Barry exclaimed and sped over to the reformed criminal. He kissed the thief in front of both their teams, unaware of the heart attack he gave to the members of his own team.

“Bartholomew Henry Allen!” Iris shrieked, causing everyone in the room to wince at the octave she reached, “Since when were you dating Captain Cold?!”. Barry opened his mouth to respond when Nate beat him to it.

“What the hell, man? You didn’t tell your team about it? It’s been years!” Barry sighed and put his head on his hands. Len’s arms were still around his waist, his back leaning on Len’s front. “No. I did. Multiple times. No one believed I had a boyfriend.”

The Legends half of the group burst into hysterical laughter while team Flash was still frozen in disbelief. “Wait a second. Your ‘fake’ boyfriend is Leonard Snart?!” Joe pointed from Barry to Len, taking a moment to process it. He wasn’t as mad as he thought he’d be, but definitely surprised.

“To be fair, they aren’t dating anymore.”

That caused the team to snap out of their stupor. “What do you mean they aren’t dating anymore?” Cisco questioned, trying to comprehend how this all happened. “Did you guys break up?” Caitlin asked from her position beside Mick, who was laughing so hard that he held onto her shoulder for support.

Barry blinked at all his friends and family, asking himself how massive of a situation this led to. He shook his head and removed his gloves, taking Len’s hand and doing the same.

“Guys. I've been wearing a ring for the last 2 months. I haven't been hiding."

"We thought it was part of your... psuedo boyfriend scheme..."

Captain Singh was the first to get over the shock of everything and put all the information together. "So. For the last 2 years, you actually do have a boyfriend. Who's Leonard Snart. And not only did you tell us you were dating someone, you also flaunted your ring around, showing us you're engaged, and we didn't even believe it."

"Most people think the superspeed is what's unbelievable about me..."

[the-sweetest-dragon]

A Summer Like Never Before

- A Summer Job AU - no Pennywise - Georgie is still alive - Mostly tomfoolery -

Fandom: It

Characters: Ben, Richie, Eddie, Stan, Bill, Bev, Mike

Ships: Eventual Reddie, Benverly, Stan x Patty

Word Count: 1,160

Warnings: Out of character behavior

AN:  I have just started my online classes so I don’t know if I’ll be able to post next week, but I hope I can find time to do so.  This chapter isn’t my favorite but I’ve been assured that it’s cute, so uh yeah.  Enjoy?

Tags: @just-another-shipper-01 @nerdsarebetter @audder17 @sapphic-bottlexap

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

____________________________________________________

Chapter Four

Richie Tozier is in deep, really deep.  He’s also in a good deal of pain, but that can’t compare to the feeling of euphoria soaring through him.  Richie hadn’t meant to hit Ben in the face but he couldn’t say he was sorry for what transpired next.  

Eddie is holding his wrist gently in two fingers, examining the quarter sized bruise on his elbow.  Richie’s heart is in his throat, making it hard for him to speak (for once).  This crush had started getting worse once they started high school and Eddie came into his own more.  He started running track, despite his mother’s warnings.  Richie’s eyes had bugged out of his head watching him run sprints; the kid was fast and Richie couldn’t pull his eyes from Eddie’s legs.  Richie had gushed about them for weeks, much to Bev’s dismay.  

“God Richie pay attention!  I’m trying to ask you a question but you have your head so far up your ass that you can’t hear a damn thing!”  Richie blinks a few times, trying to focus on something other than Eddie, which was proving very difficult a task indeed.  He finally settled on a mustard stain on the counter and focused on it instead.  

“Sorry Spaghetti.  Was too busy thinking about last night, ya know, when I boned your mom-” Richie is rudely interrupted by a pinch on the bruise.  “OW!”

“Oh shut up.  I didn’t even pinch you that hard.  Now, go get me a bag of something frozen to keep your bruise small.”  Richie opens his mouth to argue but stops when Eddie glares at him.

“Fine, but make sure to miss me while I’m gone.”

“I make no such promises.”  Eddie smiles and Richie suddenly can’t breathe.  

You know those crushes that develop over time, that start out as friendly and evolved into more?  The pining and yearning that comes with that feeling that you know they’ll never return your feelings, but you still hope that one day they’ll finally notice you the way you notice them?  That’s what Richie has been going through for two straight years.  He’s dated a few other guys but none ever held a flame to what he feels for Eddie.  Richie even had a somewhat serious boyfriend freshman year, Connor Bowers, but that ended very quickly when the boy’s cousin, Henry Bowers, found out.  Connor also had the inkling that Richie wasn’t nearly as interested in him as he wanted to believe.  

And so, Richie has stayed single, despite Bev’s insistence on dating around.  He just wasn’t interested if it wasn’t Eddie.  

Richie walks quickly away and heads to the walk in freezer for a few bags of peas.  Before opening it, Richie places his hands on either side of the door, bracing himself against it, and takes several deep breaths.  

“He’s just a boy.  Just a boy.  You’ve been friends since kindergarten.  He’s still an annoying asshole who speaks too fast for his own good.  You need to calm down Tozier or you’ll give it all away.”  He takes two more deep breaths, feeling much better than he had seconds prior.  

Richie walks in and grabs two bags of frozen peas; one for Ben’s nose and one for his elbow.  He pauses, making sure they don’t need anything else before closing the door and heading back to Eddie.  Making a pit stop to drop off Ben’s bag at the back booth, where he knows Bev will seat them, Richie stops in his tracks.  The jukebox has started a new song, one he knows very well.  His eyes dart to Eddie, who’s sitting peacefully at the countertop, picking at his nails.  Richie mutters a prayer to whatever god is listening and starts hurrying back to him.  

The song is in full swing once he makes it back to Eddie.  ‘Eddie my love….’  Why him?  Why today of all days, did this song play while he was in the diner? Richie mentally kicked himself for playing it so often.  ‘How I’ve waited for you….’  Eddie turns towards him, a smile on his face.

“Good, you followed my directions, for once.”  If he noticed the change in song, he didn’t bring it up.  Richie sticks his tongue out at the other boy, remembering that he needs to keep up his appearances if he didn’t want Eddie to catch onto his crush.  

Eddie takes the bag from him and holds it tightly against Richie’s elbow.  He’s so focused on the job, he doesn’t realize that Richie is staring at him with a spark in his eyes.  Eddie had always been someone Richie thought was good looking but this past year really cemented that fact.  Running had put him in amazing shape and given him a soft tan that complimented his light brown eyes.  A light dusting of freckles had settled on his nose, which Richie thought was just too cute to handle.  

“Quit staring at me like I have three heads asshole,” Eddie muttered under his breath.  Richie quickly looked away and focused on the ugly brown tiles of the floor.  He clears his throat, trying to dislodge the brick that has settled there, when Eddie speaks again.  “So, I have a question.”

Richie blinks a few times.  When Eddie says that, it’s rarely good news.

“Momhasn’tgonegroceryshoppingbecauseshethinksshe’sgoingtocatchtheflufromMr.Jonessothere’snofoodinthehousewoulditbeokayificameoverandatedinnerwithyourfamily?”

Richie can barely keep up, Eddie’s speaking so fast.  He holds up the hand that isn’t held down by Eddie’s grip to make him stop rambling.

“Mom loves having you over, you know that.  You never have to ask to come over and eat, you’re always welcome at Casa Tozier.”  Richie grins, which makes Eddie smile.  This causes Richie to head into a gay panic where his brain is no longer connected to his mouth.  “She’s making lasagna tonight if you want to come over tonight or maybe you could come over tomorrow, since then it’ll be Friday and Friday is pizza night.  We could rent some movies or something if you wanted as well.  Make it a whole…” Richie trails off, noticing the odd look Eddie is giving him.  “What?”

Eddie shakes his head, a worried expression set into his features.  He sets the bag down on the counter, taking a deep breath, before turning around with a bright smile on his face.  

“Friday sounds good. Dinner is still at six right?  I’ll pick up some snacks after I get off work tomorrow.”  Eddie smiles, but it does nothing to calm Richie’s nerves.  They had, essentially, just made a date.

“O-okay sounds good.”  Richie nods enthusiastically.  He mentally berates himself.  He’s being extremely obvious and hoping that Eddie doesn’t notice.  Richie clears his throat.  “Don’t forget to tell your mom to leave her window unlocked tonight.  There’s only so long I can stand outside in just my boxers.”  Richie winks, hoping that covers his quickness of breath well enough.  Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“You’re absolutely disgusting Tozier.”

“You know it, Spaghetti Man.”

[split-n-splice]

This night will last a few chapters. ;B enjoi

[Chapter Guide | FFn | Ao3]

29. Aura of Others – 3

Even a strange blue man in bed next to her would have been a better sight than cracking her eyes open to a scruffy brown rat down by her feet, nibbling a puff of popcorn. Shilo shrieked and nailed the pest with a shot of plasma before she could think twice. Blasted straight off the foot of the bed, it hit the ground running, and she heard the squealing rodent flee to the hole in the wall across the apartment.

Regretting the reflex, she hoped that it wouldn’t die in the walls and leave a nasty odor.

She heaved a breath and melted back into the sheets, limp and just a little numb already from the undue adrenaline. She had four minutes until her alarm clock sounded off, which was four minutes to spare to stare up at her hands.

Today was the day. She’d really be testing her willpower and self-control by the end of it.

Shilo let her hands ignite, pouring her concentration into it until the glow began to feel hot even by her standards. It was a good indicator she was overdoing it when the cotton sleeves bunched around her elbows began to discolor and smoke.

She snuffed it out completely at will as the alarm clock beeped, and let her hands cool in the air for another minute before dropping them over herself, warming her stomach.

Deep breaths. She could do this. It wasn’t like she’d never been on a date before. Well, alright, so maybe she hadn’t officially – but she’d hung out with people in groups and alone and that was practically the same, and she’d made out with the neighbor boy a few times after returning to the charade of a normal life and might have made it to third base had big brother not presumably butted in.

She shoved the thought from her mind too late. She didn’t need a grudge fogging her brain today, and she didn’t need to kick it off by over-thinking scenarios so soon and getting in a tizzy.

The alarm clock was on her last nerve. She nearly blasted it to smithereens. But it was in front of the vanity mirror, and she was in no mood to clean up more shattered glass so soon.

As she prepared herself for the day, she tried to remain deaf to the rain coming down in sheets and driving waves of clamor on the roof and windows, at least until the saturated roof began to leak. She sighed remorsefully and mopped up the mess with a designated towel before pushing a pot under the drip which she knew might not be enough to contain the leak if the rain didn’t let up soon.

She had her slicker and an umbrella, and was braced to make the soggy walk to Buckley’s despite any drowsy agreements she’d made last night, but was pleasantly surprised to find herself smirking gratefully at the blue man in a brown suede jacket standing outside her door, holding an umbrella of his own.

“So you can tell time,” she noted.

Drakken grunted but held out an arm. “Your chariot awaits,” he said. It might have been more charming or funny had he been more enthusiastic.

Shilo didn’t remark on his mood and rather than accepting the gesture, she shoved him before stepping under the shelter of his umbrella instead of popping open her own.

He’d worried her last night with his little outburst, but he’d reigned it in and composed himself in short order. She’d lightheartedly offered to make a pact that if they both found themselves diligently avoiding family on the fourth Thursday of November, they could just skip town and dine on gourmet Chow, holiday edition. Effectively cheered up, Drakken had loved the prospect enough that he hadn’t even noticed the plasma glittering over her palm when they’d shook on it.

Though he’d been in good enough spirits when he insisted on leaving early last night, he didn’t look all that giddy today. His eyelids were heavy, though he didn’t look incredibly tired, and his lips were pulled into a slight frown as if something had left a bad aftertaste in his mouth. As she studied his face, he cast his dark eyes her way, and she snapped her stare back to the road quickly.

“Chow?” he offered.

“If we hit the drive-thru,” she agreed. She sighed drearily to herself and leaned her head against the window streaked with rain. “I’m going to get sick if I keep eating that crap though.”

“You’re realizing this now?” He was one to talk, with his freezer full of microwavable junk.

She almost kicked him. “Shaddup.” She settled for flipping him the bird, but Drakken only chuckled.

Truth be told, she was too uneasy to have more than a couple bites of her breakfast cereal earlier. She’d dumped the remainder down the toilet, and the rest had followed a moment later when she’d upchucked, no thanks to the nerves curdling in her stomach all morning. She’d barely been up for an hour and the day was off to a bad start already. She’d brushed her teeth and gargled afterward, but a hash brown patty to nibble on helped get the taste out of her mouth and off her breath once and for all, or so she hoped.

She was picking the patty apart and watching the grey swaths of rain sweep through town as they left the Cow-n-Chow lot when something caught her eye. The neon sign wasn’t lit this early, but it was legible enough. With a surge of nerves prickling down her spine, her eyes popped wide and she realized she’d never tracked down the rendezvous point.

There was no need now, she realized as she watched Westinger Grill slide away into the gray haze. She shot an inquiring look to her glum driver and jabbed a thumb over her shoulder.

“Westinger Grill,” she spat out. “That’s the weird karaoke place, right?”

Drakken glanced back in the mirror and gave a grunt and a shrug in reply. “You mean the one you hated?”

A baffled, “Huh?” fell out of her mouth. Sure, she might have been uncomfortable and dreaded being pulled on stage like the first time, but – Shilo frowned at the gloomy man and defended herself, “I never said that.”

“You dined and dashed,” he stated as if the fact alone was proof.

Shilo clammed up at the reminder. She almost threw her hash brown to the dirty floorboard of the stolen station wagon, appetite momentarily quelled, but took a big bite instead for a perfectly acceptable excuse not to answer him. She didn’t have to defend herself anyway. She’d been under no obligation to stay. She hadn’t even left because she hated it – though it might be better to let him think that, she decided. In fact, she’d really sort of liked it. Too much. And he’d sat a little too close, and his smile had been a little too warm, or made her a little too warm – and she’d decided it was better to bail before it was too late, before she lost her cool like she did every time angel boy hexed her, like she was on the verge of doing now—

“Do I need to pull over?” Drakken piped, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. “You look sick.”

“It’s just the dru—uh—uhm.” She couldn’t blame the medication anymore. He couldn't know about the debilitating drug at all – period – let alone that she had it in her possession. “No. I’m fine.” Her mouth was full of cotton but she swallowed against it anyway, and slouched back and folded her hands over her stomach to discreetly blow on them with a sigh. She’d taken another nip earlier to cool herself down, and had the remnants of the tablet in her purse just in case. She was good to go. She wasn’t at risk of flaring up at the tiniest bit of agitation.

“Are you sure?” He sounded less concerned for her and more concerned with having a mess to clean up.

“I’m sure.”

She picked her hash brown back up from her lap, finishing it off and inwardly hoping he wouldn’t need to pull over after all as she tucked into her muffin sandwich too.

The big day was really off to a rotten start, she decided. She’d been sick once, almost sick a second time, nearly lost her cool over a trivial accusation, and resorted to messing around in her purse to take another pinch off a pill and sneak the crumb under her tongue when Drakken wasn’t looking, all before even arriving at Buckley’s Brew.

When he asked if she’d be needing a ride this afternoon, he added the snide remark about chaperoning her and angel boy. She told him to get bent and leapt out of the car to make the dash through the pouring rain and into Buckley’s. In her haste, she forgot her umbrella but opted not to go back for it.

All day, she watched the rain outside fall. In such dreary weather, foot traffic was low and customers were few and far between. Which left ample time for Abigail and Chester, the kitchen hand, to gang up on her, making inquiries and accusations about her involvement with the local villain, perverse or otherwise, as well as pressing for classified information regarding Team Go  – like what was a real lair like, did she really think she stood a chance of getting into LHU with her track record, and was Drakken hiring yet?

The dogging lasted until Buckley broke it up. Shilo regretted sneaking yet another nip halfway through her shift – otherwise, she might have thrown a glow-laced punch at her fellow barista’s pudgy face to end the discussion. Given a break from the remarks and questions, she slumped into a seat as a fog settled over her, only to jump up at the chime announcing a customer’s arrival. Her immediate fear was angel boy, or Drakken, or her brothers, but it was just a regular, and she put on a warm smile for the drenched woman laughing and making light of the downpour filling the reservoir.

By noon, a small ray of hope shined, golden and tantalizing outside on wet pavement. The rain hadn’t stopped, but it had lightened up considerably, the clouds breaking up enough to let some shifting sunlight reach the drenched oasis town.

As she left Buckley’s that afternoon, she looked to the heavens to study the blue sky mottled with bruises of grey rain clouds drifting eastward. The weather report, according to the television installed in the corner of the café, claimed the storm had passed, but there was still a churning tumult in her stomach as she trudged home, taking detours around flooded streets and grudgingly wading through an ankle-deep puddle on the last intersection, her studio in sight.

Her umbrella was leaned against the door. She scoffed a curse at the man who wasn’t even there.

As she hung up her things, she cast a glance at the clock. Three hours to go. She contemplated showing up fashionably late, or early, or – she swore again and combed her fingers through her hair. What did people wear to these sorts of things? She groaned to herself, wondering if everyday street clothes were acceptable, as she didn’t own anything nicer. Not yet anyway.

Two hours later, she’d turned her closet and drawers inside out and prayed she wouldn’t be bringing a guest home tonight. That thought alone was like dropping a live wire in a puddle, sending sparks of heat flooding to all the wrong places. She was getting ahead of herself. She was in this for payback. Not to behave like some deprived love-struck puppy. Not that she could risk pushing her luck without a little help from the pill – and she wasn’t about to roofie herself.

She squeezed her eyes shut and denied doing exactly that just to relax enough to watch a simple movie with Drakken last night.

Hell, she’d even started to fall asleep again, despite his outburst. The rogue could have done anything, but instead, he’d decided to take his leave. Shilo wanted to shout and swear now that she’d only imagined grabbing his sleeve to ask him to stay. Or maybe she’d asked if he wanted to stay. Maybe she’d been asking, or hoping, for both. Maybe she’d even wanted to try having someone beside her – actually beside her, not out of reach clear across a stupidly vast oversized bed. She’d slept in dogpiles among her brothers after tough missions before, but a man was inherently different—

She shuddered and tried to pull her thoughts back to angel boy. Angel boy was who she was seeing tonight. Angel boy was who she pulled on her nicest spotless khakis and teal cardigan for, and why she clipped on the bracelet for good measure. Hair tied back to show her earrings, she wondered if the rockhound could tell at a glance the difference between rhinestones and genuine diamonds – and then decided if he was such a snob that he cared, well, she’d just have to raise the price of payback.

She still wasn’t sure what she had planned for angel boy. Something along the lines of burglary brought a smile to her as she headed out into the evening to make the trek across town. She could steal things little by little, or swindle him, or scope out the precious gems packed in that big gaudy house she was positive a young guy like him didn’t own. It was probably his parents’ house. That slowed her pace. She really wouldn’t like having to deal with meeting anyone’s parents, but if that’s what it took to get inside to get a good look around, then so be it. A house like that probably had a nice security system – not that cameras had ever stopped her before.

A cold wind blew straight through her as the Cow-n-Chow came into sight, just off Main Street on the far end of town. She hugged herself and wished she’d worn something warmer than the cardigan. She longed for a cozy woolen sweater, maybe one that enveloped her in a weird mix of comforting smells like cookies and oil-spills in the lab. Then again, smelling like one of Drakken’s workshop rags couldn’t be the best way to show up for a date, she supposed.

She looked up from watching for puddles as the chosen restaurant came into view. The sign to Westinger Grill buzzed in bright red, and in the window, just as she’d seen before, the karaoke sign flashed as if to tempt passerby.

As she cut through the parking lot toward the tall junipers lining the walkway to the entrance and patio, a familiar ugly station wagon caught her eye. Before she could groan in dread – it couldn’t be – she was discontented to find the front patio was occupied.

Slumped over on a bench near the door sat a man looking a little too blue for her liking. And of all things, he was puffing away at a cigarette she doubted was making him feel any better, by the looks of it. Or if it was, she’d hate to have seen him before he lit up. He was still in his plain street clothes, yet he looked a little disheveled as if he’d been thrown out or had neglected to tuck in his shirt or straighten his jacket all day.

Shilo’s pace slowed as she neared and she stopped before him. Her hands rested on her hips, but his droopy gaze didn’t lift from his scuffed oxfords. “Dr. Drakken?” she called down to him as if unsure it was the same moody scientist she knew. His eyes darted up at her, and he pulled a face almost like a sneer – yep, still Drakken – and she shifted to cross her arms. “What are you doing here? You know, this stalking thing is getting old—”

“Oh, you think everything’s about you, don’t you?” he snorted, and nodded to the window behind him. Specifically the blinking karaoke sign in it. He checked his watch. “Doesn’t start for another…oh…fifteen. Thirteen? Minutes.”

She gathered she was early.

“And you’re totally sulking about karaoke and not the fact we aren’t doing some Bonnie and Clyde gig, which you were just bitching about yesterday.” She nodded to herself as if that made perfect sense – and in the next second, she had the feeling she was off the mark when he shot her a dirty look that made her shift again and back down.

“It’s not about you, Shego,” he reiterated, grinding out the words. “Fuck off.” He was in an especially bad mood tonight, she decided.

Shilo held up her hands in peace. “Language, Doc,” she teased tersely.

The crotchety man rolled his eyes and mimicked her in a whiny indiscernible mutter. “Why are you here?” he grumbled, eyeing her suspiciously as she turned to cast a glance back around the parking lot.

No angel boy in sight, she stepped forward and took a seat next to Drakken on the bench, though she kept a mindful distance. She leaned a little to peek at his wristwatch, but that was as close as she came. “What do you think?” she scoffed, smoothing out the wrinkles on her sleeves. “Waiting on my date.”

Pissy mood aside, Drakken cracked a weak lopsided smile. “I’m flattered,” he jibbed.

“Oh, shut up,” she bit back, and almost struck him in the shoulder.

Drakken almost reluctantly offered the cigarette her way then, raising his brow as if in question. She decided maybe he wasn’t in such a bad mood after all. Or maybe it was improving the longer she sat beside him. She wanted to pretend she was imagining it, but she could see him cheering up and sitting straighter, his eyes brighter, focused, and on her.

Minutes of silence passed. The cigarette changed hands a few times before Drakken finally flicked the butt into the juniper hedge, and the silence ensued for some time after as patrons of Westinger Grill came and went.

Shilo heard the first musically-challenged karaoke enthusiast of the night begin caterwauling inside. Drakken remained next to her, twiddling his thumbs and looking glum, but still better than he had when she’d arrived. “It’s starting,” she noted.

“Yes, I know. I’m not deaf.” He made no move to get up. He seemed to shrink just a little even, his spirits dimmed.

“Well, if you’re not gonna sing, then what are you doing here?” she wondered. “You know, besides sulking out here in the cold?” She could see her breath now and it wasn’t the smoke anymore, she realized. She rubbed her arms. If she hadn’t been medicating herself with a pinch here and there all day, she might have had her second nature readily burning her up right about now.

Drakken slouched back and let out a horrible noise that passed for a sigh. “You don’t want to know.”

“Try me.”

“I don’t want to tell you.” His snooty answer changed when she kicked his shin, but not before he released another guttural groan and slumped forward to hide behind a hand. “The plan is to drink my troubles away and do something foolhardy,” he grumbled, and she elbowed him. He nodded to the parking lot. “I’m pushing the car off a cliff.”

Shilo still had the sense he was omitting something, but she let it go for now. She stifled a small laugh and caught herself inching closer, close enough he was almost warm against her side. Or maybe that was just her. “What? You think I wouldn’t want in on pushing a car off a cliff?” It sounded better than karaoke, anyway.

“Why would I invite you? You were supposed to have a date,” Drakken reminded.

He had a point. She narrowed her eyes and didn’t comment on it though. Instead, she scoffed. “Why the sudden urge to push a perfectly good car off a cliff anyway?”

She had a pretty good idea of the ledge he was thinking of. She’d parked the SUV there her first night in the oasis. It was a good place to push a car from – if memory served her well. The thought of sitting on top of the car overlooking the pond of light in the valley below, sharing quiet chatter and making plans to cause a little chaos, was more appealing than sitting outside a grill waiting for a tardy angel boy who may or may not show.

Drakken shrugged. He dug in his coat pocket for his pack of smokes, but she reached across to push his hand down. If he lit another now, they’d be out here until it was finished – and it was getting pretty chilly out. Her hand rested over his for a second too long, and it was a decidedly good thing he was wearing his leather gloves or he might have felt the pinpricks of her nerves shooting down to her fingertips before she could snap her hand back.

The man let out another grievous sigh, his breath still smoky from the last cigarette and already bearing a hint of alcohol. She shouldn’t have been close enough to smell it. “It looks too much like my mother’s,” grumbled Drakken.

Shilo couldn’t help quirking her brow at him. “I thought you said you wanted a station wagon?”

“I did, but that was before – nngg!” He shoved his glasses up and scrubbed his face. His temper was climbing again. “Just let it go, please. I’m begging you.”

Just as she’d been about to scoot away to give him breathing space, Drakken jumped up. His hands flailed in the air and he gestured down the street, smacking into the juniper in the wild movement as he did. “Why can’t you go to Cow-n-Chow?” he griped, just about yelling it down at her.

“Why can’t you go to Cow-n-Chow?” she retorted, rising as well.

Drakken crinkled his nose and curled his lip. “Because! I’m – I was here first!”

“Too bad. I have a prior arrangement to be here.” Shilo crossed her arms and planted her feet.

He took a quick scan about and threw his arms out into the air on either side of him. “Well it looks like you’ve been stood up,” he announced. That wasn’t true. Was it? She didn’t have the time – and Drakken didn’t know when she was supposed to meet angel boy anyway.

Shilo crossed her arms. The assumption stirred worry in her gut, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking around to be sure for herself, or of letting the disappointment show on her face. She gave a little shrug she hoped was nonchalant and indifferent enough to mask it. “Yeah, not the first time,” she lied.

A strange mix of pity and anger flashed in the man’s eyes, and his face twisted, and he crossed his arms as well and practically stamped a foot as he turned to take in their surroundings again. “We could both go to Cow-n-Chow,” he suggested as if it were troublesome just to speak the words.

“Little tired of Chow,” Shilo dismissed. It wasn’t a lie in the least. Some pasta and breadsticks would be a nice change, but she’d be happy with chicken tenders too.

“Alright then…” Drakken rocked on his heels for a second, hands stuffed in his pockets. He was starting to look chilled. At least, she’d like to think that was why his ears and cheeks were turning purple. “Well, there’s always room at my table,” he said with a nod to the door of the restaurant and held out his arm for her to take, just as he had Monday night when he’d been decked out in his Halloween costume. “Care to join me?”

Eyeing his arm, she entertained the idea. Her hand, nervous tingling aside, itched to take it, and her heart thumped in encouragement and her stomach did a funny flip that wasn’t as sickening as she might have expected after being so worried sick earlier in the day.

But a buzzing pulled her attention past Drakken then, and he glanced back over the hedge just as none other than angel boy came zipping into the parking lot on a dinky little white moped. Drakken scoffed and made a sarcastic comment under his breath, “No helmet? What a daredevil.”

Shilo shoved him toward the door. “Get outta here,” she hissed.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he grumbled. “Suit yourself. See you inside.”

“Don’t crash any cars without me!” she whispered sharply at his back.

[eeveedel]

god i never realized how much i love chubby 1d. possible prompts: harry or louis trying on an outfit they were really excited about but it doesnt fit. chubby louis trying on lingerie for buff muscly harry. liam niall and zayn accidentally taking it too far with the 'letting yourself go' comments towards harry: cue harry being very quiet, and having louis remind him how much he means to him. i have about 100 more prompts but ill leave it at this

I love all these prompts and I’m def working on all of them, but I thought I would write a lil twist on the last one you sent, bc I love hurt/comfort. hope you enjoy another installment from the thick alpha verse xx

--

Louis felt his stomach warm as soon as he heard the front door open, and his cheeks colored when he heard Harry call “Omega!” from the front hall.

 Harry came into the kitchen a few minutes later, still covered in a thin sheen of sweat from his workout. Still, Louis didn’t protest when he pressed his sweaty body to Louis’s side and gave him a greeting kiss. He never did.

 “Hi, babe,” Louis smiled and kissed Harry on the cheek in turn, “I’m gonna have dinner ready in half an hour, sound good?”

 “Sure,” Harry said, “What are we having?”

 “It’s burger night,” Louis said, “I have some potato wedges in the oven already but I’m putting the patties on soon.”

 “Oh,” Harry nodded, “Do we still have black bean burgers?”

 “We have some in the freezer, yeah, do you want those instead?”  

 “Yes, please,” Harry smiled and kissed the top of Louis’s head, “Gonna take a shower.”

 “Sounds good, I’ll have a beer for you when you come down.”

 “Just water tonight is good, babe,” Harry said, and then offered Louis a smile and slipped upstairs.

Louis frowned. Harry usually only had water at the end of the day when he was hung over. And he almost always had a beer after a work out. But after a moment Louis just shrugged and went to the freezer, getting out the black bean burgers to cook up alongside the beef patties.

 Harry came down soon enough, and Louis brought him a glass of water and then went back to cooking. Eventually everything was ready and he called Harry into the dining room as he pulled all the food out. Harry took his usual seat at the dining room table, and Louis set a plate with two veggie burgers and a tall pile of potatoes in front of Harry and kissed the top of his head.

 “Thank you, love,” Harry murmured, and then looked at his plate for a long moment before he picked up one of the sandwiches.

 Harry ate the first burger pretty quickly, but then just poked at the other one, barely giving it one bite before setting it down. He ate a few of the potatoes but barely made a dent in the pile before he just sipped at his water.

 “Are you okay?” Louis asked. Usually Harry would be completely done with dinner and asking Louis if he could have another burger. He was always hungrier after gym days, especially.

 Harry just glanced up and gave Louis a small smile.

 “M’fine.”

 “Harry,” Louis said firmly, “Don’t lie to your omega.”

 Harry gave him a long look, and then sighed and covered his eyes.

 “I just had a hard day at the gym, that’s all.”

 “Oh, love, are you sore?” Louis said, already moving to get up, “I can get you something for that, I – “

 “No, no, I’m okay,” Harry said, a weak smile coming on his face before it dropped again, “I just – “

 He rolled his eyes and sighed hard.

 “There were these fucking guys in the weight room, and, um…”

 He licked his lips and shrugged.

 “They just said some shit to me, that’s all.”

 Louis leaned forward, his eyes already narrowing.

 “What kind of shit?” he asked, his body already tensing to be angry.

 “Uh,” Harry hesitated again before he dropped his eyes, “They just interrupted me, and I guess they hadn’t seen me there before or whatever, and assumed I needed help – “

 “Why the fuck would you need help when you can deadlift 400 pounds?” Louis asked flatly, and Harry gave him a wry smile.

 “Anyways, uh, then they told me I should probably focus on cardio instead, because that’s better for weight loss,” Harry said. He made a weak snorting noise in his throat, but it was pained. “And I told them I wasn’t really looking to lose weight, and – why, that’s when one of them laughed.”

 Louis stood up from his chair, his hands pressed to the table.

 “They. Laughed. At you,” he said slowly, punctuating each word.

 “Louis, baby, I need you to promise me you’re going to keep your homicide record clean,” Harry said.

 “No promises,” Louis said quickly.

 Harry laughed, but then he deflated again and looked at his lap.

 “I don’t care, is the fucking thing. I like the way I look, and I don’t care when fucking Liam or Niall talk about my weight, I just – “ Harry rubbed his eyes and then rested his cheek against his fist.

 “I’m so fucking sick of people thinking they can tell me how to live my life just because I’m fat.”

 Louis just looked at him for a long moment, and then came over to Harry’s chair and settled himself into Harry’s lap. Harry groaned weakly as Louis settled and wrapped his arms around his alpha’s neck.

 “Baby,” he sighed, “Baby, baby, baby.”

 He kissed Harry’s forehead, and then his cheeks, before he finally pressed his mouth to Harry’s lips. Harry sighed against his mouth and then kissed him in turn, his hands grabbing Louis’s waist.

 “No one has the fucking right to say anything to you about you look, what you do, anything, if you didn’t ask,” Louis said firmly when he had paused in kissing Harry.

 “I know,” Harry sighed.

 “No, no, listen to me, I have a lot more bitching to do,” Louis insisted, gripping Harry’s cheeks. Harry chuckled and then nodded for Louis to continue.

 “You are a perfect alpha,” Louis said, “You are smart, and hilarious, and charming, and you are the sweetest, most patient person I have ever known.”

 He pressed his hands forward, squishing Harry’s cheeks and making his lips pucker.

 “Omega, I cant breathe,” he managed to say.

 “Sh. Yes you can. Listen to me,” Louis said, “You’re so incredibly sexy and you are the only man I ever dated that can make me cum more than three times in one night, so keep that in mind.”

 “You have told me all this before,” Harry said between his squished cheeks.

 “And I still mean it,” Louis said. He pressed his forehead to Harry’s, finally releasing his Harry’s face so he could set his hands on his shoulders instead, “Just…God, I really love you. And I hate that people think they can make you feel like shit just because you exist.”

 Harry breathed hard into the hollow of Louis’s throat and squeezed the omega’s hips.

 “Thank you,” he said softly.

 “Of course.”

 “I just – “ Harry shook his head, “Having this body gets so fucking exhausting sometimes, and it’s literally only because of other people.”

 He lifted his head a bit, and Louis pulled away to look into Harry’s eyes.

 “I mean, except for you, obviously,” Harry said, “You’re only one of the only reasons I feel okay like this.”

 Louis pressed his lips together, and then pushed forward, kissing Harry hard.

 “You deserve to know how beautiful you are,” he said firmly once he pulled away, “Always.”

 Harry gave him a smile, shaking his head.

 “God, how did I get so lucky to find you?”

 “I’m lucky,” Louis insisted, “I get a lovely, big alpha. That’s all I could ever want.”

 He settled his chin on the top of Harry’s head, and his alpha nosed at his neck for a bit while Louis closed his eyes and soaked in Harry’s scent and the feeling of his body under Louis’s.

 He really did wonder how he got so lucky with Harry, was the thing. Someone so lovely and sweet and patient that went through too much and was still so kind on the other end. Any time Louis could remind him of that, he would.

 Eventually, he climbed off of Harry, giving him a peck on the cheek.

 “Are you still hungry?”

 “Yeah, I’m really hungry,” Harry admitted.

 “Okay, I’ll heat up your plate for you,” Louis said, “Can I get you anything else?”

 “A beer?” Harry asked hopefully, “And, um, maybe a beef burger later?”

 “You got it,” Louis smiled, and kissed the top of Harry’s head again, “Anything for my favorite boy.”

[bi-bi-richie]

A Little Deadlight Never Killed Anyone ( 3 / 3 )

Richie is about to leave Derry, he's about to leave for the last time and move on. He's about to leave Eddie. But, first, he's got to carve something back into the kissing bridge he left in 1989. Little does he know that a short trip to find closure will give him everything he's ever wanted and more.

...

“Dunno why you’re gonna start writing your own material now,” Eddie mentioned as they ate in his car during their drive. “You still have the sense of humor of a thirteen-year-old.”

“Yowza!” Richie chuckled, “Eds! Think of my fragile ego!” then he winced when Eddie flicked him in the side of the head.

“That’s not the only thing that’s fragile, I see.”

“Gee, Eds,” he rubbed at the spot on his head but smiled nonetheless, “maybe you should write my material from now on!”

“Hm!” Eddie placed his burger on his lap then threw his hands up in the air like he was presenting something, “I can see it now! Richie Trashmouth Tozier’s comedy special, How I Killed a Literal Demon Clown Twice, written by his fellow repressed gay man.”

“Fellow repressed gay man, eh? Is that what they call boyfriends now?” Richie barked out a laugh at the thought of it, “my name is Richie Tozier and this is my fellow repressed gay man, Eddie Kaspbrak!”

Eddie cackled right next to him and nodded his head, “if anyone else in the audience has a fellow repressed gay man, please stand up! We want to give you a round of applause!”

...

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Ao3

“Hello, this is Eddie Kaspbrak, I was an old friend of your husband’s, Stanley Uris.”

It’s a hard call to make, Mike would probably argue otherwise but to Eddie, it was the hardest. Probably because he’s about to sound crazy, like he’s some insane prank caller, but Eddie has a rough outline of a plan. He knew about the letters that Stan sent to everyone, he figures it’d be easier to just say he read the message in the letter rather than tell her he’s been to heaven and saw her dead husband as a thirteen-year-old boy again.

“Oh,” Patty said over the phone, a slight shudder in her voice. “I’m so sorry, I’m not sure if you got a letter or not, but my husband-” she pauses, Eddie hears the whimper in her voice and for a moment he’s scared he might cry as well. “He’s passed on.”

Eddie pauses, he hears her let out a muffled sob and he finally has to let himself take a deep breath. He has to get through this. “I… I’m actually calling about the letter I was given. He gave me specific instructions at the end to call this number and- and read out the message he wrote.”

Eddie wished he had a script then, but Stan didn’t exactly give him much to go off of. Maybe it wasn’t Eddie’s place to try and give his wife closure like this, but it breaks his heart to think that she’ll have to keep living without another word from him, that she probably won’t see him even after she dies.

“He wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry. He’s sorry that it doesn’t all make sense and that he can’t explain it, but he’s sorry. He wants you to know that he’s happy now, he’s probably somewhere where the grass is green and the sun never stops shining. He’s safe, he’s safe in a way he was never safe before, in a way he wishes he could help you understand. He’s okay. He’s okay and he loves you. He loves you so much and he hopes he’ll see you again one day.”

It’s completely silent over the other line, Eddie desperately hopes that what he said was good, that it’s what Stan would’ve wanted. Eddie looks over to Richie who’s sitting in a chair at the other side of the room with a worried look. Richie has a soft smile for him and Eddie feels himself relax just a little bit.

There’s some sniffling on the other side of the phone then a voice that sounds a little taller than it had a few seconds ago. “Thank you so much.” And when she hangs up, Eddie doesn’t blame her at all.

…

It had been a lot for the entire losers club to handle in the past week. On top of Eddie, who they had already mourned over, being alive and not even injured, the news he had was beyond comprehensible. Most of them didn’t believe him at first, Bill had laughed out loud when Eddie explained that he went to what looked like heaven, he claimed there was no such thing and even if there was, he couldn’t imagine Pennywise’s victims actually getting there. Mike agreed that there could’ve been a force of magic stopping them from actually going to heaven and Eddie supposed he had to sort of agree, but what he saw was heaven and he stood by that. Granted, he wasn’t actually sure what limitations the heaven had. Stan said every Pennywise victim, surely that had to include the horrible people like the Bowers gang, would they be allowed in heaven? Do innocent people go to this heaven? Do bad people find themselves in their own personal hell? Eddie didn’t know.

Eddie mekely talked about Georgie then. He didn’t know much but he knew that, according to Stan, he had to of been in that heaven with multiple other kids for years, he wasn’t alone. And now he was definitely not alone because Stan was there with him. Bill got quiet then and it made Eddie feel like he had said something wrong. He was really trying to be as sensitive with the topic as possible but maybe, with all the years of struggling for closure, this could be too much.

That thought left his mind when Bill looked up at all of them with tears in his eyes but a smile on his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered.

…

Richie had never felt so depressed yet relieved to be walking back into the commons of Derry, specifically the Derry Town House. Depressed because he was supposed to already be halfway back home at that point but relieved because he was beside the man he loves. He could stand another night in the old building if it meant walking out the next morning hand in hand with Eddie.

When they walked back into their room, Richie was quick to throw himself onto the bed and snuggle into the Derry smelling covers and almost drifted off into sleep right then and there. “Jesus, Eds, I haven’t felt this exhausted since the first time I fucked your mom!”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie grumbled. When Richie didn’t feel his warmth near him, he slowly picked his head up and looked over to the chair. Eddie looked anxious where he sat, fiddling with his fingers, similar to how he looked the night they got in Derry.

“Hey,” Richie said warmly. He picked himself up from his position on the bed and walked over to Eddie. He crouched down to eye level with his friend (boyfriend? Lover? He doesn’t know now) and tried to give him a comforting smile. “We killed It, okay? Nothing’s gonna get you.”

Eddie sighed and shook his head. “No, Rich, it’s not that…”

They stayed silent for a moment longer, Richie was really waiting to see if he had more to say but when the silence dragged on he decided to prompt him with a hand on his knee and a nod of his head.

“It’s just,” Eddie groaned, “I know what I have to do, I know what the next step is, I just don’t know what to do afterward.”

Richie rocked himself on the balls of his feet then let his body fall back and sit there. “What do you have to do?”

Eddie shrugged but he knew the answer, “I have to leave Myra. It’s long overdue and, honestly, I’ve been wanting to do it ever since I signed that damn marriage license.”

The other man chuckled a little at that, “what? The vows weren’t what made you realize your mistake?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck, “there- well, there- there wasn’t a wedding.”

The silence then was very, very awkward. Richie always sort of wondered if Eddie really put that much effort into a marriage he wasn’t even happy in, but he didn’t realize that Eddie actually didn’t put any effort into the marriage.

“I know, I know-” Eddie groaned again, “ god, I know, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t walk down the aisle to her. To somebody I don’t love. Technically, I didn’t even propose to her either. My mom told her that I was going to, then Myra told me she knew and started trying to plan a wedding. I tried to tell my mom that I wasn’t ready to get married, but since she was dying at the time she guilt-tripped me by claiming that I was trying to tear away the experience of having a daughter-in-law and grandchildren from her.” He let out a bitter laugh at the memory and it made Richie’s heart twist. “Funny enough, she died before we married and I still couldn’t find it in me to call it off.”

Richie watched him for a few more seconds, watched the heartbreak and misery dance in his eyes before he prompted him to keep speaking again. “Why are you afraid of what comes after?”

A selfish piece of Richie was silently aching at the thought of Eddie being afraid because of Richie. It’s no lie that Richie had already been imagining a life with Eddie, he was already planning on leaving Derry with him that next morning but he couldn’t stop his mind from planning the rest. He wanted to take Eddie back to his home, the one he had picked out in a nice neighborhood with a nice park nearby. The home was big and spacious, he picked out comfortable furniture that wasn’t even remotely his type but he always imagined that someone (someone he couldn’t remember) would one day walk in and love it. He had a first-aid kit in almost every room and even though he didn’t really care to actually pull them out if he got hurt, he imagined someone would be proud of him for it. The place was always stocked up with sweets he didn’t even care for, but he always ate them because they always brought back a memory he couldn’t see clearly or place right. Strawberry ice cream was always in his freezer even though his favorite flavor was rocky road. He didn’t know why he did all these over-the-top things for a person he couldn’t even remember the name of but he always did it without a second thought. He didn’t know until he saw Eddie standing next to a fish tank in a Chinese restaurant not even a week ago.

“I don’t know. I mean, I have a vague plan. She’ll probably want… everything, so I’ll probably just take my clothes and end up in a hotel for a few weeks, then I’ll have to start-”

“Wait.” Richie cut him off and put his hand off as if to sign it too. “Why would you be staying in a hotel?”

Eddie looked at him with a puzzled look as if it was obvious why. “I… I won’t have anywhere to live, Rich, I can’t be on the street.”

“Yeah, obviously,” Richie stood up then and walked over to where Eddie sat, “that’s why you’re going to be staying with me? I thought that was obvious.”

The smaller man stared blankly at Richie before his face broke out into a confused, hesitant smile and was followed by an equally confused and hesitant laugh. “What? Richie, there’s no way I could do that to you.”

“You’re not doing anything to me-”

“I can’t just walk into your life like that, that’s not- I can’t.”

“Oh please,” Richie rolled his eyes, though it was in a fond gesture. “You didn’t just ‘walk into my life,’ you’ve always been there, even if I didn’t remember you.”

Eddie still shook his head, “it’s too much, I can’t do that to you.”

“Do what? Hurt me? Trust me, Eds, it’ll hurt way worse if I have to walk out of here without you by my side.”

The older man just sighed and looked down at the floor then. Richie thought he was going to cry, he looked like he was going to cry and that thought broke Richie’s heart. He’s cried so much already and Richie knows he’ll cry even more if he finds himself alone in a hotel room come the following week.

“Eddie,” Richie placed his hands on the latter’s shoulders and leaned down to press a kiss on the top of his head. “I love you, I always have. Even when I didn’t remember you, I always loved you. You were always in the back of my mind, always plaguing my thoughts. No matter what I did, I always had this sexy little gremlin of a man who talks faster than the sound barrier can handle.”

Eddie chuckled at that and looked back up to meet Richie’s magnified, purely love-filled eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you, Kaspbrak, I’ve waited my whole life for you and I’m not going to let you go a second time.”

The two of them smiled and both of them knew the answer then.

…

At 12:36 am the next day, Richie and Eddie were already on the road outside of Derry and on their way to Chicago. There was still a lot to do, not only did Eddie have to tell his (soon to be ex) wife that he was alive and ready to split, but both men had to let their jobs know that they didn’t die and that a few things were going to have to change.

For one, Eddie had to let his company know that he’d be working in a whole other state. Also, he might want to beg not to lose his job considering the fact that he went at least three days without reporting back to them. Oh, and he’s going to actually need to sign up for therapy this time, all the losers will but him and Richie already discussed it and decided to make appointments very, very soon.

Richie will have to make some changes too. He had two shows scheduled for the days he went missing so he’ll have to deal with the refunds and the consequences of losing that money, not to mention the fact that all shows will have to be canceled until further notice due to the fact that he’s recovering from… trauma. On top of all that, he’s going to have to come up with some excuse as to why he was gone out of the blue like that and why he’s suddenly moving in a man they’ve never met before. It sounds like a dumb thing to have to explain but apparently his business is their business. Oh, and he’s going to be writing his own material from now on.

“Dunno why you’re gonna start writing your own material now,” Eddie mentioned as they ate in his car during their drive. “You still have the sense of humor of a thirteen-year-old.”

“Yowza!” Richie chuckled, “Eds! Think of my fragile ego!” then he winced when Eddie flicked him in the side of the head.

“That’s not the only thing that’s fragile, I see.”

“Gee, Eds,” he rubbed at the spot on his head but smiled nonetheless, “maybe you should write my material from now on!”

“Hm!” Eddie placed his burger on his lap then threw his hands up in the air like he was presenting something, “I can see it now! Richie Trashmouth Tozier’s comedy special, How I Killed a Literal Demon Clown Twice, written by his fellow repressed gay man.”

“Fellow repressed gay man, eh? Is that what they call boyfriends now?” Richie barked out a laugh at the thought of it, “my name is Richie Tozier and this is my fellow repressed gay man, Eddie Kaspbrak!”

Eddie cackled right next to him and nodded his head, “if anyone else in the audience has a fellow repressed gay man, please stand up! We want to give you a round of applause!”

Richie knows he hasn’t laughed that hard in years, hell, he knows he hasn’t even been that funny in years and he wasn’t even the funny one.

“Y’know, Eds,” he said as he chucked a ketchup packet at Eddie’s head, “I think I figured out why I couldn’t write my own material before.”

Eddie giggled, “why’s that, Trashmouth?”

“Well, I think I need a special Kaspbrak by my side to truly be funny.”

Eddie stopped laughing and just smiled at him then, it was true that his recorded humor wasn’t the same as the funny shit-talking boy he knew back in Derry. Eddie wondered, as he watched his shows, if that’s just how Richie was now. Words couldn’t express how relieved he felt when he saw the man face-to-face and realized that he hadn’t changed a bit.

“But since I don’t have your mom anymore, I guess I have to settle for you.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

…

They were close to Richie’s home now. Richie knew the way around like the back of his hand at this point, meaning that he got lost a few times because Richie doesn’t know shit about the back of his hand. But when he finally knew where he was going, he started to feel himself get twitchy and anxious. Would Eddie like the house? Shit, would Eddie like living with him? Would he be enough? Is he enough right now? Is this what Eddie really wants?

“Richie, I can hear your thoughts from over here,” Eddie whispered because the silence in the car was to thick for him to break.

“Sorry, Eds, guess I’m just thinking.”

Eddie nodded his head, then he shyly looked down. “I’ve been thinking too.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

“Do tell!”

Eddie huffed out a laugh then sat himself up in the car. “Maybe this is a bit forward, but I think me and you are on the same page about this.”

Richie turned his head to look at Eddie then with a confused look, “what do you mean?”

The smaller man sighed and shrugged his shoulders, “I was just thinking… That when we’re settled in together, like with our jobs and my marriage and just living together, that I want to marry you.”

Richie froze then, his thoughts coming to a complete stop and his heart skipped at least three beats. The whole world seemed to stop for just a moment, then it kicked into full gear and Richie couldn’t answer fast enough.

“Yes!” He gasped out.

“Yes? You want to marry me?”

“Yes! Yes, oh my god, yes! Fuck, of course, I want to marry you!” Richie leaned over and pressed his lips against Eddie’s then peppered them all over his freckled face. “Please, yes, fuck! Yes, let’s get married.”

Eddie’s giggles were like music to Richie’s ears and Richie was just soaking it all in. But, really, what’s the rush?

They have forever.

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (10)

A/N: asdklgasldf logan is the second main character at this point, i realize. i dont have any Qualms with that but also there’s gonna be whiplash once he starts being not-super-main. also meet the artist, more!!! he’s a very interesting one

WARNINGS: arguing, yelling, knife, threatening, death threats, food/food mention (i should have tagged that in chapter 8 — gonna fix that ASAP it’s written on my arm :’D) — if i missed anything too, please let me know!!! 

Words: 6325

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST!

@starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda@askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil 

General: @jemthebookworm​

enjoy !!! <3 <3 <3  <3 

Logan woke up first.

He rubbed his face, not changing his position just yet. He noticed that the room’s ceiling was red, with baby pink clouds floating along. Perhaps this reflected on the weather outside, or the sunrise? Either way, it was pretty.

He sat up, putting his glasses on fluidly. Patton was still fast asleep, light snores drifting  from against the bean bag he was spooning. The Child seemed to be a rambunctious sleeper, as his legs were bent over the bed’s edge, blanket covering his face.

He hadn’t forgotten their revelations from the previous night, not at all, and a small, content sigh escaped his lips when he saw that both of his companions were asleep sound. It was a well deserved rest.

According to his internal clock, it was definitely past sunrise, a fair 7:12 a.m. It occured to Logan that “after sunrise” was the most nondescript timestamp he could have placed on their reunion with Deceit and Virgil, but he didn’t have the energy yet to worry about that. After all, he doesn’t function well without coffee. He also should have been concerned about the Artist downstairs. Surely he has to sleep, too, though? And it was unlikely he’ll attempt violence this early in the morning.

Most important, however, is the fact that Logan needs coffee.

Carefully, he stepped around Patton towards the door, taking his cloak with him. He took care to move slow down the stairs, letting the wooden steps creak slowly instead of in loud snaps.

The ground floor hadn’t changed since the previous night. Paintings and art equipment were still strewn about in an organizational method probably only understood by the Artist himself. The man in question was splayed out on what seems to be a small couch — in front of the easel from last night. Along with that, the stool had disappeared. It wasn’t a healthy practice, but Logan had to admit that it was efficient to simply change one seat for another as bedtime rolled around.

Coffee time.

He walked around the couch, still careful about his footsteps, and entered the kitchen. There was a coffee machine in the corner that Logan immediately put to use. Now, with a warm mug in his hands, he squinted around at the setting.

He should make breakfast for everyone. He had the time, and food would greatly sustain himself, Patton, and probably the Child for their future endeavors. Perhaps the Artist would also enjoy a meal? Yes, the Artist reportedly doesn’t like them, but it would be against Logan’s nature to take that sort of statement at face value without running his own experiments.

First, he had to know what he had to work with. Logan opened the refrigerator — why were there modern appliances in a medieval setting? He would have to ask….someone — and found it sparse but useable. There was a full carton of eggs, and milk.

After water testing each egg, Logan set a pan over one of the stove burners. He would have to ask about consistency in setting because, um, a stove? He wasn’t about to not use it, but he was judging the “historical accuracy” that the Playwright had harped about.

Speaking of the Playwright. Logan leaned on the counter with his butt and took the Playwright’s book out of his jacket pocket. In all of last night’s hassle, he’d forgotten to check the “Author’s Notes” section, and there had to have been even more updates since then. He nearly flipped the cover on instinct but a distinct golden glow caught his eye.

The ribbon decal was still adorned on the front, though it was noticeably less impactful than the golden circle in the center. The sun of Roman’s crest. The Child. Logan ran his thumb over it, watching as it actually exuded a warm yellow glow around his finger. If Logan was still willing to trust the Playwright’s explanation, then that meant they’d won the Child over. That he trusted them.

He squinted at the cover. The ribbon was a divot in the cover, like leather pressing. Probably to mark the book, maybe even to fool the Sides into letting him go without argument.

Even lighter on the cover, though, was the outline of the crest. The leather was a dark red color, but closer to the center was a lighter red, more matching of Roman’s sash, and there was a light indentation marking where the crest’s border would be. Perhaps it was because they had met more figments? Or maybe Virgil and Deceit had met with another part enough to make a mark? Either option was promising.

The former seemed to be the case, because the Table of Contents had extended to include….multiple more Romans. It seemed that Virgil and Deceit had been busy. Below the Playwright and the Author Notes was now “The Child,” “The Thief,” “The Artist,” “The Bard,” “The Dragon,” and “The Damsel.” That was all seven. Transfixed, he began flipping to “The Dragon.”

There were bullet pointed notes, but no sketch like there had been for the Playwright. Perhaps it would update with more once they’d found him.

“- Lives in the castle

- Wants to kill everyone

- Would not hesitate (bitch)

- Captured and tortured Damsel

- I cannot stress this enough — DO NOT ENGAGE”

Logan raised an eyebrow. A villain. A very cliche villain, too, given that he was a dragon. He wasn’t necessarily inclined to trust the Playwright’s warnings, though. Surely there wasn’t really a form of Roman who would want to kill all of them? Perhaps throttle, but not murder.

“You’re not Teacher Dude, are you?”

Logan nearly dropped the book. He snapped it shut and whirled around, ascot flapping into his face. The Artist stood in the kitchen’s entry, sleep still evident in his eyes behind the same glasses Logan wore. He squinted at Logan as though daring him to lie.

Which, of course, he did. Logan straightened his posture and fixed his outfit, carefully sliding the book back into his jacket pocket. “I am. Cur of you to say that,” the Teacher Dude smiled, right? He was a little more of a funny man. Logan smiled.

The Artist winced. “You sure as hell aren’t an actor. Dad Guy wakes up first. Teacher Guy’s has a trash sleep schedule, since he procrastinates on grading papers. You’re Logic.”

Logan….supposed that was valid. He didn’t know enough about the Teacher’s character to refute that claim. He cleared his throat and turned back to the pan, beginning to crack the eggs for the scramble.

Hang on. Was his smile that unnatural?

The Artist took his silence as a yes. He nodded to the coffee machine. “Mind if I take some of that?”

Logan nodded, stepping away from the machine. “Of course.”

The Artist nodded back and began fixing himself a mug. He stood beside Logan, who pushed the half-cooked eggs around the pan in an effort to maintain some air of regularity. He only felt a little awkward, considering the Child’s warnings and the yelling match he had with Playwright the night prior.

It didn’t seem that the Artist cared, though. After he poured himself coffee, he stayed in the kitchen, leaning on the counter and watching Logan cook.

“The Child brought you, right?” The Artist sipped his coffee, watching Logan’s shoulders hike up when he spoke.

“Yes. He did,” Logan said.

“So Padre’s upstairs, too.”

“Yes,” Logan exhaled slowly, “Do you want any breakfast?”

The Artist looked at the eggs. Logan really just made them breakfast, huh?

“I don’t eat. We don’t need to,” he looked back up at Logan’s face, squinting, “Wouldn’t that be illogical?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. Okay. Maybe he was a little scared, but Logan wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to point  out that he was being a petty baby.

“Well,” the Artist rolled his eyes as Logan began to explain. “Roman typically eats meals with us, so everyone maintains an even circadian rhythm. While unnecessary in the literal sense, breaking from that routine has likely damaged your stamina, resulting in phantom hunger cramps. My current hypothesis is that that’s what you’re feeling, or….that you don’t want to eat because I’m here.”

There, he said it. Logan could see the hostility in the Artist’s eyes. There was more, something heavier and deeper, probably a nuance he wasn’t picking up on, but the bitterness was indisputable. Or was it simply sadness? Nevermind that.

The feeling in his chest was tight now, not like the fluttering he’d pondered last night. This was more upsetting. It felt like the thing gripping his lungs had a tighter hold, almost threatening. Why was this such a surprise? He knew that the Artist didn’t like him. He should stop developing preconceived opinions of these different Romans, because it wouldn’t benefit him if he continued entering these situations with fallacious speculations.

The Artist averted his gaze, and then turned around. A quiet concession, it seemed. He opened the freezer and pulled out a bag of hash brown patties. “I’ll make hash browns,” his voice was low, almost a whisper.

Logan didn’t want to let it go, though. He had to know. “The Child mentioned that you dislike us.”

Oof, maybe he was being too bold, because he winced at his own words. The Artist was also taken aback; he probably didn’t think Logan would bring up the room’s incredible tension.

For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, unsure of how to continue. The Artist recovered first, with a sharp shake of his head. “I don’t,” he said, even quieter.

He opened the bag and took out another pan, heating some oil. Logan took a step back, setting the eggs down on the counter.

“So you do like us? Us being myself and my compatriots.”

“I mean. I don’t not like you,” the Artist began flipping the patties, “Doesn’t mean I like you.”

Logan frowned. “Can you elaborate?”

The Artist cast him a wary glance, then looked back at the hashbrowns. “I’m indifferent. I don’t need you, and you don’t need me, so we’re at a comfortable numbness.”

Comfortable numbness. What was that, a call back? Logan leaned on the wall, watching the Artist cook quietly.

It seemed that the Artist quickly forgot his presence, too, as he began to hum. He flipped the finished patties one by one onto the drying plate. A little airheaded, perhaps? But he had been quite astute earlier. Or maybe Logan just was a really bad actor — he didn’t know. He did know, however, that the tightness in his lungs was softening.

Logan cleared his throat, and the Artist didn’t react. “What are your….plans?”

“Paint,” he responded simply.

“....anything else?” Wow, it was hard getting this one to talk. The Child had been so ready to explain everything to himself and Patton the night prior.

The Artist seemed to consider his question for a second, as though contemplating if it were worth his time. It seemed to be. “Kick you all out. You, Pitterpatt, and Child being here is puts a target on my house, Professor Binns. I would prefer to not draw Dragon’s attention.”

That was understandable. Logan let his shoulders relax — he definitely hadn’t been worried about an argument or actual physical confrontation, given how the biting the Artist had been the night prior — and he followed the Artist in arranging a plate.

They worked in silent tandem, though once the Artist was finished, he set his plate aside and opened the cabinet overhead. He pulled out a toaster, then a loaf of bread, and finally, to Logan’s surprise, a jar of Logan’s berry Crofters jelly.

The Artist caught a glimpse at Logan’s expression and met him with a tired shrug. “It’s a good flavor,” he turned back around once the slices of toast popped up. Logan’s face mustn’t have changed, because the Artist squinted at him again, suspiciously, and added, “What are you, the jelly police? Fuck off.”

Logan blinked, then turned back to the eggs. He stepped back again, now feeling out of his depths as the Artist toasted eight slices of bread and set all but two aside. Those he took for himself, spreading each with a thick layer of jelly. When it looked like he was done, Logan stepped forward, but the Artist just turned toward him with a stoic expression.

“I’m going to start painting. Don’t,” the Artist pointed the spreading knife at Logan, voice dropping to a threatening tone, “Interrupt me. After you’re all done eating, I want you all out of my house.”

It seemed that he really cared about his work. Logan fixed his glasses, lowering the jelly covered knife with his finger.

“Of course,” he said, licking his finger clean of jelly.

Oh, fuck yeah, that was the good shit.

The Artist, happy with his response, nodded and swiveled the knife around. Logan took the handle and they rotated, the Artist walking away to his easel and Logan to his jelly. It occurred to Logan, then, that if he had a question he should ask it now. Before it became a safety hazard to ask.

“Wait.”

The Artist, just about to sit, looked up at him with a frown. “What?”

Logan looked around at the piles upon piles of paintings. They had intrigued him since the night before, but he’d wanted permission before inspecting.

“May I look at your art after breakfast? I assure you that I will not damage any of your works.”

The Artist looked around, too, and pinched his brows. His hands came up to run through his hair.

Logan shifted his weight awkwardly. It was a fairly simple question, but the pregnant pause implied some deeper worry.

Well, it was Logan. While he wasn’t a big fan OF Logan, he and Virgil were the least likely to physically damage them.

He loved Patton, but the man would probably drop a few of them without realizing the damage that’d do to the canvas. And Deceit….he wasn’t a big fan of fake compliments.

On the alternative hand, Logan was most likely to critique them.

The Artist was sure he couldn’t take that. Not right now, not with this ridiculous art block and murder game interfering with his creative process. On any other day, he would be able to bear the brunt of….no, no. He probably couldn’t take any criticism. That sort of mental processing went to another facet of himself.

But, when Logan PRAISED him….it felt like the world. It felt like the sunset casting a warm glow upon the summer’s night. Like a bird training to fly who’d fallen from a nest only to take off and soar. Like glimmering flashes across a lake at sunrise.

Oh, it felt like heaven.

Was it all worth that one possible compliment?

“Sure,” the Artist found himself saying, hands resting on the back of his head, “Knock yourself out.”

Logan frowned. “I assure you, I do not plan on making myself unconscious.”

The Artist waved his hand, suddenly more distracted looking as his eyes flew around between his current work-in-progress and the other paintings. “It means go ahead. I’m going to begin painting. Tell Pat-in-the-Hat and Child not to disturb me.”

He screwed his eyes shut, drew in a breath, and….summoned a sketch pad and pencil. Logan watched as he began repeating the same hand movement over and over across the blank page, an art warm-up.

For a second, he was honestly proud that Roman remembered his suggested warm-ups. He’d been worried, once Roman first took up sketching as a means to jot his ideas down, that the creative side’s erratic nature would mean less self-care, so he researched a few ways to prevent hand cramps when drawing. Adequate art warm-ups was one of those ways and was a way to prevent one’s hand growing stiff.

Well. This whole morning was definitely a shift from the snappy, angry Artist from last night. Logan briefly wondered what the change may have been.

No matter. He should probably eat before engaging in any of the art; he would hate to dirty it. He also didn’t want to get in the Artist’s way. The Artist had just put his plate down beside the stool and immediately begun working, and to be honest, that didn’t bode well for the food. But it was too late for Logan to bring that up, especially with such explicit instructions.

For someone who disliked order, the Artist followed his personalized organizational methods to the dot.

Logan stayed in the kitchen, watching him paint from afar, letting his eyes wander over the other pieces. Slowly, he sat on the ground, crossing his legs and leaning against the wall. It was peaceful

Okay, well, that was interrupted by pounding on the steps above. Logan turned just in time to see Patton peek out from around the stair’s bend, hair still fairly disheveled and glasses lopsidedly resting on his nose.

“Well, good morning!” he said with a grin.

The Artist didn’t react, continuing in his warm-up routine, but Logan waved. “Good morning, Patt,” he said.

“It’s nice to see you, Roman!” the Artist rolled his eyes, but stiffened immensely when Patton hugged him from the side.

He didn’t loosen when Patton let go and moved on to Logan, still leant on the counter, hand resting on his chest, emotional outburst behind him. Patton had hugged him.

“Good mornin’, Logarithm!”

Okay. Logan drew in a small breath. That nickname? “Did you just call me logarithm?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.

He was a little astounded that Patton knew what a logarithm was. Patton nodded, still chipper as ever. “Yep! If you write logarithms in their regular, no numbers-form, it’s your name!”

Logan squinted.

Holy fuck.

While Logan ran that pun through his mind, Patton went to the kitchen. “Did you both make breakfast?” he asked, ignoring that Logan was still trying to figure out how he hadn’t discovered his own name-pun and that the Artist hadn’t un-frozen yet from his hug.

Despite the lack of response, Patton continued, making himself a plate. “You’re so sweet! I’m glad you were working together this morning, then!”

Logan smiled a tiny bit. They had worked fairly well, hadn’t they? He stole a glance at the Artist, who was still frozen. He was looking at Patton with a weirdly choked expression, though. A cross between anger and something else.

His eyes flicked down to the Artist’s food, mostly eaten. He must have eaten it while Logan wasn’t paying attention.

“Logie, did you eat?” It seemed that Patton hadn’t noticed how stressed the Artist looked.

“Yes, Patt, I did. Thank you for your concern. I am going to do my and the Artist’s dishes now,” Logan picked up the Artist’s plate from the ground, not looking at him as he took them both to the kitchen. “Has the Child woken up yet?”

Patton shook his head, leaning on the wall behind the counter while Logan began to clean the dishes. “Nope! He’s out like a light!”

He looked over at the Artist, who was still as a statue, and turned back to Logan in a more hushed voice. “Is he okay?” he asked.

Logan glanced at the Artist, then looked back at Patton. “I cannot say. He was fine earlier,” did Logan want to mention that he stiffened only after Patton hugged him?

Yes. It was better to not hide these things. “He hasn’t moved since you hugged him,” Logan whispered, “Maybe he is a touch-averse Roman?”

Immediately, Patton was regretful. Gosh, he hoped he hadn’t upset the Artist. Roman was usually the only Side okay with spontaneous hugs, and he’d been too sleepy to remember that the multiple Roman situation meant every Roman might have different boundaries.

Should he apologize? Probably. That was the good thing to do!

Patton spun back around and walked up to the Artist, who was still frozen. “Sorry for the hug, kiddo,” Patton said, rubbing the back of his head, “I, uh, hope I didn’t paint myself in any bad light!”

The Artist blinked, then looked up at him, mouth pressed into a firm line. Patton actually flinched from the confused anger in his gaze. The pun couldn’t have been that bad. Could it?

He opened his mouth, irritation clearly mounting, but then clamped back down and bit his lip. He looked away, not reacting to Patton’s bewilderment, and simply starred at the painting he’d been working on. It hadn’t been ruined, oh, no, he hadn’t even started yet. His mind had just been abruptly yanked away from the Zone.

“It’s okay,” the Artist spoke through gritted teeth, “I already talked to Delbert Doppler over there. Please leave me to my work.”

Patton stepped back when the Artist extended his hands, conjuring a paintbrush and the palette that they’d seen him using the previous night. And then he set to painting.

It’d be a lie to say Patton wasn’t a little hurt, despite the already-negative impression the Artist had left. But he was hoping that’d been a late-night kind of fluke! A little moment where the Artist was just too tired and stressed! And he’d heard Logan and him working together well earlier….

“Patt,” Logan’s voice drew his attention back to the kitchen.

He was holding a plate fully set with eggs, hash browns, and two lightly-jammed slices of toast. Logan met Patton’s surprised expression with a small smile. “Breakfast?”

“Oh!” Patton took the plate and plastered on a smile. “Thank you, Lo!”

Neither seemed sure of what to do — did either remember the events of last night? After a few awkwardly quiet moments of smiling at each other, Logan cleared his throat and stepped back. “I am going to look around at the paintings that Artist has done. I would recommend staying in here,” he gestured to the kitchen, “As Artist is….fairly serious about not damaging his work. And not being disturbed.”

“Oooh, gotcha. That’s probably why he’s been a lil’ snappy, right?” That made sense in Patton’s mind! If the Artist wanted to not be disturbed, and Patton had unintentionally disturbed him, it made sense that he’d be a little peeved but not too mad or sad. Smad, if you would.

Logan nodded. “Perhaps. Either way, it would be better if we don’t disturb him,” he looked around at the art and picked up the first painting.

While Logan parsed through the different works, Patton sat down cross legged in the kitchen, munching happily on the eggs. Logan must have made them, he really did make the best eggs! The perfect level of juicy and cooked.

….It made him miss Virgil. The routine was to do famILY breakfasts, with Virgil, Patton, Logan, and Roman all sitting around the kitchen table. Patton leaned back on the wall and let out a small exhale. A small part of him wondered if they’d ever get to do that again, if Roman was going to be so changed after this. The Playwright hadn’t actually taken their words into consideration. He didn’t know how much they loved him.

How much Patton loved him.

Because, yeah, he could admit it. Patton was in love with EVERYONE. Virgil, Logan, Roman, even Deceit — it felt like swimming in honey, thick and goopy and wrapping around him in a warm embarrassment whenever Roman yanked him into a dance in the kitchen, or Virgil leaned on him during movie night. Whenever Logan read him a favored part of whatever he was reading, or when Deceit would trade puns and one liners with him.

He was floored, surrounded by this bubbly love that felt like a celebratory champagne.

Probably. It was probably love. Sifting through emotions may have been part of his job description, but that didn’t mean he was good at it. And he didn’t know if anyone felt the same, if anyone loved him back. Logan’d said something the other night, but…. And it wasn’t his job to sift through HIS emotions. Just Thomas’, technically.

Wait, was this just a different take on Thomas’ self-love?

Either way, the fluffiness he felt, the warmth at the tips of his fingers and the tingling in his cheeks when he smiled at seeing his lovely boys….It was nice.

It was all nice.

Just as nice as those paintings.

Logan had peeked through two stacks and found a lot. First, none of them were finished. Whether it simply lacked depth, or was literally half-painted, or only had base colors, none of these paintings were remotely completed. Every single one that Logan had seen was a work in progress.

Beyond that, he’d found multiple scenes of himself and the other Sides. There was one in particular he was….quite fond of, in all honesty. He’d looked it over for a few minutes. It was a half-finished painting of himself, sitting on the couch in the Mind Palace. And the only “finished” part was himself, fully colored in a semi-realistic impressionist warming glow.

Was that how Roman saw him? He knew that the impressionist movement emphasized the perception of events and movements, taking care of the lighting in environments to reflect not only upon the realistic light sources, but also on how the artist perceives such moments. It seemed….

Well, he didn’t much believe that the Artist was disliked them. Not after seeing these. But it unnerved him that so many were unfinished and unfocused. What was Roman lacking? Was it just an art block?

Patton stood up and patted Logan’s side. “I’m gonna wake up Child,” he whispered, glancing sideways at the Artist, who was painting now, “Get him some breakfast so we can be on our way.”

Logan nodded, putting a painting of a simple house down. “Very well. As soon as he is ready, we should leave. The Artist expressed a desire for all three of us to leave.”

Patton’s brow furrowed, and looked at the Artist, who wasn’t paying them any mind. The Child had to leave, too? Patton just wanted to say goodbye, he didn’t think that they’d be taking him with him. Wasn’t it dangerous outside?

“Wouldn’t it be safer for him to stay here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Logan now.

Logan pursed his lips.

Patton was probably right. It….was logical, that the Child would be safer hidden here, between multiple failsafes. “The Artist didn’t want him to stay here,” Logan murmured, “I am unsure why.”

“Well, how about we ask him!”

“Ask who what?”

Patton and Logan looked up to see the Child standing in the stairway, rubbing his eyes, yawning wide. He smacked his lips and grinned at them as they stood in the kitchen entryway, watching with slightly stricken expressions. If he saw anything wrong with that, though, he didn’t say.

“Awh, is that breakfast?!” the Child bounded down from the stairs and launched himself from the base, sliding his socked feet along the smoothed wooden floor.

He slid straight into Patton, who caught him with a “Woop!” This Roman was much more of a hugger, as the Child wrapped his arms around Patton’s hip and squeezed him tight.

Love

The Child snuggled his face into Patton’s side, until he caught a whiff of the eggs. “Oh my God,” he leaned back, though kept his hands balled in Patton’s shirt, “Did Loga–Did Logic make eggs?”

Okay, Logan honestly had no idea his eggs were this popular. “I–um, yes, I did,” he stepped back into the kitchen, “Are you able to make your own plate?”

“Um,” the Child rubbed his chin in thought — Patton was going to die, right here, in the Imagination, because Roman as a kid was so adorable. Just, the cutest. Curse the natural dad instincts — “I think I can!”

He hopped over to the counter, which he could barely peek over, and grabbed a plate. Carefully, and Logan watched just in case, the Child loaded up a plate of eggs, hash browns, and toast. And the whole rest of jelly jar.

He shot Logan a squinted, suspicious look, and held the jelly jar closer. “This one’s mine,” he hissed, “You jelly fiend.”

Logan didn’t know whether to be offended or pleased that that was his reputation. Like….this was a child. But also, he was a serious man with serious problems to attend to, and being labeled a “jelly fiend” was detrimental to that reputation.

But he was talking to a child, THE Child. He may as well play along. He looked to Patton for help, but only found the moral side with his fists pressed up to his cheek, figurative stars in his eyes while watching the Child spoon the jelly out of the jar and consume it.

Logan put his hands up in defeat. “I will not take your jelly,” he said.

“Promise?” the Child asked, pointing the spoon at Logan accusingly.

Alright. He’d admit it. The Child was a positive influence. “I promise.”

The Child raised an eyebrow, but said nothing else. Evidently placated by Logan’s promise, he licked the spoon.

While Logan dealt with the Child, Patton moved closer to the Artist. He hadn’t let go of the whole you’re-letting-a-child-lose-in-a-murder-situation thing and really, nothing anyone said was going to make him let go of that.

And, yeah, sure, Logan and the Artist both said not to bother him. But it couldn’t be that bad! They’d be out of his hair as soon as he said he’d let the Child stay. Patton didn’t understand the harm in a quick interruption. “Artist?”

No response.

Patton frowned. He didn’t want to touch him — Logan’s comment about him being touch averse still lingered in his mind — so Patton just stepped around and stood behind the painting, waving a hand and hoping to attract his attention.

“Hey, Roman!” he said. “Artist!”

Finally, the Artist acknowledged him, in a quick “Mhm.”

“Look at me?” Patton asked.

“Mhm.”

Okay, so the Artist wasn’t paying attention. This was a really important topic, and Patton, sadly, needed his full attention. Patton grabbed his shoulders, and the Artist stiffened again.

Careful of the painting, Patton pulled the easel back, squatting in front of the Artist so they were about equal height.

Uh oh. The Artist looked stricken, staring at Patton with eyes as wide as the moon and a mouth slightly open, slackjawed and confused. Behind them, the Child babbled to Logan about stars while Logan responded gently about constellations. Neither seemed to know of what was going on.

“Hey, Artist,” Patton smiled a little, trying to ease whatever tension there may be, “I’m sorry for bothering you! I just wanted to ask, um….” he bit his lip, it’s okay, just ask, “Would it be okay if Child stayed here?”

“What?!”

Hearing his name, the Child looked up. He and Logan both starred at Patton and the Artist, finally realizing that Patton had done the one explicit thing that the Artist had been adamant that no one do.

And, well, to be fair. Patton wasn’t usually one to press boundaries. He would be okay with letting the Artist paint for however long he wanted, so long as he took healthy breaks and ate a lunch and dinner eventually. But this was a dire situation. The Child had someone hunting him! Someone who wanted to hurt him.

Letting him hide, stay out of trouble, that was the right thing to do. Roman would understand, surely.

“No,” the Artist said.

Well.

Patton frowned, running his hands along the Artist’s upper arms and gently holding him steady. Maybe he just had to explain?

“Well,” he said, “It’s deadly outside, and we don’t want him getting hurt, right? Don’t you wanna keep him safe?”

The paintbrush and palette disappeared from the Artist’s hands as they slowly curled into fists. His lip was twitching, too, revealing a barely-contained anger.

Patton had done the ONE thing….

The Artist sucked in a breath. “....I don’t give much of a fuck, Dad. I told you all to leave.”

Someone yanked Patton back, causing him to let go of the Artist. He turned around, ready to reprimand Logan, only to find that Logan was nowhere to be seen.

The Child tugged Patton back a little more away from the Artist, teeth pressed together into a wide grimace. He shot Patton a small look, terrified and distressed, and pulled him toward the door.

“We’re on our way out, Arty!” the Child said, running around Patton and giving him a sharp push toward the door, “ I’m sorry, I didn’t tell Pat to say that, we’re gonna head out—”

Logan ran down the stairs, holding Patton and the Child’s cloaks in his arms. He handed the Child’s cloak to him, letting him put it on himself.

He wasn’t entirely sure why they had to leave so soon, but after Patton said the Child’s name, he’d turned to Logan with a petrified expression and whispered that they had to leave immediately. While Logan was certain that there was more to the Artist than a quick temper, he wasn’t confident that the Artist wouldn’t lash out.

It seemed that Patton was pretty confident, though. After all, why WOULD the Artist do anything?

He shook his head when Logan offered him his cloak and turned back to the Artist.

“No, no we’re not leaving,” Patton marched right back to the Artist, still sitting on his stool, hands trembling in his lap. “I thought you cared about protecting everyone. Why can’t he stay?”

The Artist stood up, causing the Child to jump back in fright, though Patton didn’t flinch. He just stood nose-to-nose with the Artist, who glared right into his eyes.

“He’s a distraction,” the Artist spoke slow, quietly, though the trembling of his hands and the twitch in his eye betrayed  It’s bad enough you’re all here. I don’t like distractions while I’m working, and you in particular keep distracting me—”

“Is that why nothing is finished?” Logan asked.

The Artist stepped back, as though he’d been slapped. Logan came up behind Patton, carefully putting a hand on Patton’s shoulder.

Patton gave him a small smile of relief. He wasn’t sure he could argue this well enough without him. While attacking the Artist’s art probably wasn’t the best method, he was glad that the responsibility of reigning him in wasn’t all just on Patton.

Having back up was nice.

That, and they still had to get information. Perhaps Patton’s opinion that the Child should stay here was logical and morally right, but that didn’t mean the Artist would abide by it when angry. They had to be strategic.

Logan cleared his throat, continuing with a gentle after the Artist’s lack of response. “All of your paintings. They all seem to be in some state of incompletion,” he gestured around the room, hoping to redirect the Artist’s focus. He didn’t want to come off as overly critical, though. They were wonderful, truly, but….well. You cannot blame him for having curiosities. “When you are distracted, do you not finish?”

The Artist just kept staring at him. He didn’t move, barely breathed, mouth hanging open a tiny bit. He did seem a little slow on the uptake, with lethargically slow movements and reactions.

His shoulders slowly hiked up as he drew in a breath. Patton perked up, and Logan‘s grip on Patton tightened.

“....Get out.”

His voice was cold as ice. A palette knife was summoned into his hand and his knuckles paled quickly from his tight grip.

Oh, dear. The Child hissed something behind the two adult Sides, but neither paid him any mind. They were acutely focused on the Artist.

“It’s an honest question,” Logan said, “I’m sorry if I offended, but—”

“I don’t have to answer it. Get out.”

Patton big his lip, eyes darting to Logan before he continued. “Roman, please—”

“I just want to create without you all getting in my fucking way all the time!” the Artist exploded. “And none of it’s good enough anyway, if it were good, I’d finish it, but nothing’s fucking good enough for you yet!”

He ground his teeth together, body stiff, hands curled at his sides.

It was bad enough he couldn’t finish a piece at all. The art block was bad enough. The fact that parts of him wanted to kill other parts of him and wanted to kill him him was bad enough.

He just wanted to create and wanted it to be good enough for their astronomically high standards.

Maybe the Thief was right. Wanting only made it hurt more.

“Roman—” Patton started again, only to be immediately cut off again by his shout.

“OUT!”

The Artist’s yell was loud enough to shake the house. Or perhaps that was because he wanted them to perceive it that way.

Either way, it was clear that the atmosphere wanted them to leave, whether they got an elaboration or not. The Child grabbed Patton’s arm and, with more force than Patton knew children to have, yanked him out. “We’re leaving, Dad,” he hissed, tugging Patton along.

Where had that outburst come from? And those tears? The Artist — he looked so upset, face twisting into picturesque disappointment and anger, lip curling and nostrils flared.

Patton couldn’t just leave him, no, he had to talk to the Artist, something. Anything.

The Artist jerked forward, shouting “OUT!” once more as he lifted the palette knife to point at them.

The Child threw open the front door and pushed Patton out. There was a time and a place, and this was neither.

He motioned for Logan to follow. “Don’t make me grab you, Logic,” he snapped, half scared, half frustrated.

Logan, blinking away his confusion, followed.

They left the Artist alone with one hand gripping a palette knife and the other his own shirt, over his heart.