#i said pass to the frying pan but maybe it was a smash in my heart 💔💔💔

[solace-seekers]

playing smash or pass with everything inanimate in a haunted house >>>>>>>

[wreckofawriter]

Strawberries

Restaurant AU!

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Lewd language, swearing, a small mention of sexual harassment. tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: You hate being a waitress for rich assholes, but maybe the new line cook will make it a little better

A/n: this is for week three of my Cliche Month. Sorry for being inactive. I suck at time management and have no motivation.

    You never aspired to be a waitress. You didn’t sit down in primary school on a ridiculously colorful rug and tell your underpaid depressed teacher that you wanted to wait on prestigious assholes and rich men who thought a 20 dollar tip bought them an ass grab. You never wanted to wait on entitled white women and spoiled brats. But shit happens.

   

“Yes ma’am I understand but that was last week’s special, we don’t serve it anymore.”

    The woman rolled her eyes, “I don’t think you do understand. I said I want the sea bass, just have them make the sea bass.”

    You bit back cusses, “I am very sorry ma’am but we don’t have the ingredients in the kitchen to make a sea bass. I can recommend our halibut it’s severed with a delicious mango chutney and-”

    “Shut up about the mango crap. She said she wants a seabass, give her a seabass.” The man who sat on the opposite side of the table spoke.

    Your smile almost faltered, “Sir, we don’t have sea bass.” 

    “Then get some.” The man huffed, “There are plenty of stores around.”

    You had already taken the fork beside him and jabbed him in the eye in your mind four times, “I am terribly sorry sir, we cannot do that.”

    The look on his face could only be described as disgust, “I would like to speak to your supervisor.”

    You took in a deep breath, “Sir, he will not say any different.”

    “Now girl.” He snapped, his wife’s smirk making you want to smash her champagne glass over her head.

    “I will be right back.” You forced a smile, notebook flipping shut as you turned, the click of your heels disappearing into the chatter of diners. You almost rubbed your tired eyes only to remember the makeup which coated them and dropped your hands back to your side. You walked towards the pass of the kitchen, the smell of fish and meats becoming stronger as waiters weaved around you. 

    “Denzel.” You called, the man in question turning towards you.

    He raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

    “Can you pretend to be my supervisor?” You asked, “Some idiots still want to order the sea bass.” 

    “I’m assuming you told them that was last week's special.” He spoke as you began to lead him back to the couple.

    “Multiple times.” you sighed.

    He nodded smiles finding both of your faces as you stood in front of the table.

    “How can I help you both tonight?” He spoke, his voice dramatically shifting tones. 

    The woman went on to explain your complete incompetence just to hear your friend restate everything you had. She eventually ordered the halibut.

    Denzel left thanking them for their cooperation as you went on to take the man's order and pretending not to hear his wife calling you a bitch as you walked away. 

    You wanted to be a journalist, a warrior of justice. You wanted to expose the one percent, shattering their ivory towers with a mallet of words. 

Instead, you served them halibut and ribeyes with a smile as fake as their trophy wives tits. 

James had fallen in love with many things in his life but cooking had been the most prevalent. Most hobbies were tossed out windows, they became phases, leaving nothing but footprints in his life. But cooking had been different. Since he was five years old and would hop onto a stepping stool to peer into the cast-iron pan his mother would be sauteing in he had been hooked. By age 10 he was making things like meatballs and stroganoff. At fourteen he began to engage in more complicated dishes and by the time he hit culinary school he was easily the best in class. 

Now as he washed his hundredth dish of the night he wondered if all of that love had been for absolutely nothing. When applying for a line cook position at one of the most prestigious restaurants in London he definitely didn’t expect to be stuck as a dishwasher. 

James’ hands felt raw from scrubbing, his apron soaked with warm water and unscented soap. His feet were aching in his shoes, his jealousy for those putting together the night’s last desserts burning hot.

He ignored his anger and pushed on, washing plate after plate just to place them into an industrial-sized dishwasher which was supposed to thoroughly clean the dishes which he already spent hours scrubbing. Dessert plates and wine glasses seemed to replace every dinner plate he had washed, his work seeming endless as his coworkers said goodnight and walked out the back door. 

It took James another hour to finish. He felt like he could pass out on the kitchen floor. His glasses were a greasy steamed mess as he pushed them back up his nose for the nth time that evening. He sighed out in a mix of exhaustion and relief untying his apron and preparing to leave.

“So you’re the newbie?” 

James jumped letting out a small yelp as his heart leapt in his chest. 

You let out a snort hand coming to cover your mouth, a poor attempt of hiding your giggles.

“You scared the shit out of me.” James huffed his glare only holding for a moment as you came into focus. Your hair was up in a reckless bun, your waitress uniform slightly crumpled, heels held in your left hand. Yet your cheeks seemed to be painted, the smirk your visage held tantalizing. 

“I saw.” You snickered padding past him and dropping your shoes onto a counter with a small clink. You headed for the refrigerator, opening it and scorning over its contents. You finally settled on a container of cut strawberries, which were to be used as a garnish the next day, “You won’t tell will you?” You muttered peeling open the top and snatching a fork from the dishwasher.

James nodded, what for he wasn’t quite sure. 

You jumped onto the counter spinning to face him, “Sooo, what’s your name?”

“Uhh, James, James Potter.” He said leaning back onto the sink.

“It’s very nice to meet you, James.” You grinned, “I’m y/n y/l/n.” 

An awkward silence followed as you plopped a berry into your mouth, its flavor bursting as you side-eyed the man. 

“You’re a line cook right?” You asked, legs swinging in front of you. 

James pouted a bit, his cheeks puffing for a brief moment, “Well I’m supposed to be but so far all I’ve done is wash dishes and take out the trash.”

You hummed in understanding, swallowing fruit before speaking again, “They do that to every newbie. They want to make sure you can do the dirty work before they let you burn on the line.”

James started at you, “Really?” 

You shrugged, “That’s how it’s always worked.”

“That’s a relief I thought I was going to be stuck doing this shit.”  James relished in his found happiness feeling a bit more energized, “Hey what are you doing back here anyway, didn’t most of the waitresses leave like an hour ago?” 

“I just had to see if the new cook was as attractive as all the girls said he was.” You grinned.

James felt his cheeks flame, eyes going wide, “Are you serious?” 

“No,” You snickered, “I got hungry and didn’t feel like cooking.”

The heat of his cheeks only worsened, “That’s rude.”

You cooed, “Ooh poor baby I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings, are you going to be okay?” 

“I don’t know.” James huffed, “I don’t think I can take this harassment.” 

The laughter that echoed around him caused a smile to break onto his face. 

You suddenly realized he was as attractive as the other waitresses were saying. Even if his hair was a mess and his glasses were smudged. 

You hadn’t been lying. By his third week, James was helping with both garnish and desserts. His thirst for cooking finally being fulfilled even by the small tasks he had been given. He was still forced to do dishes at the end of service but usually, someone would help him or even trade-off with him so he could take part in prep. 

Most nights when he was left alone in the kitchen you would appear, always claiming to be hungry and that cooking was for “the weak.” so you would raid the fridge instead. You stated many times that veggies and leftover slices of cake were a fine dinner much to James’ distaste. 

“That's it.” The newbie announced, hands in the air in mock surrender as you opened a container of cauliflower. “This has to stop.”

Your heart sped in your chest, was he going to turn you in? 

“You can’t keep eating shit, I’m going to cook something for you.” James huffed, moving you aside and beginning to pull stuff from the refrigerator. 

You lifted your brows, “Are you sure?” 

James nodded, “You need to taste actual food.”

You rolled your eyes, “Couldn’t you get in, like, a lot of trouble.”

“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” He smirked pulling out salmon and bok choy. 

“Obviously not.” You huffed taking your usual seat in the counter as James began to work, “What are you making anyway?”

“Asian inspired salmon.” He mumbled, lighting the stove and grabbing a frying pan. 

You sat in comfortable silence, watching as he cut the vegetable in half placing it into a pan and the salmon into another. James’ hands moved quickly, not hesitating with the large knives he handled and weaving through the meal as he grabbed seasonings and sauces.

By the time he was pulling the fish from the heat, the kitchen had filled with the scent of soy sauce and warmth.    

Grabbing a plate James placed on the salmon followed by the bok choy and the lemon sesame sauce. He wiped the rim with a damp rag and presented it before you with enough dramatics to earn a giggle.

“You’re ridiculous.” You spoke through a smile taking the fork from his offering hand and digging in. 

You placed the tender meat into your mouth and was greeted by an explosion of flavors that danced on your tongue like pixie dust. You hummed, a facade of deliberation on your face, “It's overcooked.” You started plainly watching as James’ face dropped. “I’m just kidding it's delicious.” You laughed as James rolled his eyes. 

“You are such a dick,” he mumbled, beginning to clean the slight mess he had made. 

“What are you doing?” You asked. James gave you a strange look, “Get a fork dumbass, you can’t make rich people food like this and then not eat it.” 

The smile that crept onto his face caused wings to erupt in your stomach. 

You had always hated teenagers. They were spoiled and greedy and gross. So when an older woman walked in with four 17-year-old boys you had fled the scene. Unfortunately, the waitress head placed you at the table anyway. The second you reached the table all four adolescence had fallen silent and you were positive it wasn’t them being polite. One of them started at your boobs the entire they ordered and you could feel their eyes on your ass as you walked away. 

You were used to the gross stares, every waitress was. It didn’t matter how expensive the food was there always seemed to be creeps asking for it. What you had not been prepared for was the boy closest to you to reach out and grab you. 

You didn’t hesitate, hand snatching his wrist before he had a chance to fully pull away. The woman the boys were with gasped. You squeezed his arm tight hoping he could feel your nails biting his skin. 

“Touch me again and I will cut your hand off. Am I clear?” You hissed, a whimper left the teen’s mouth and you released him. You placed his plate in front of him with a clatter and didn’t waste time walking away. 

Your anger didn’t diminish the rest of the night and by the time your shift was over you considered going straight home, a shower and an extra hour of sleep would serve you well.

You glanced into the kitchen, there were three chefs left, James stood in front of the sink smiling at nothing as he always seemed to do. A sigh left your lips, who needs sleep anyway?

“I’ll close up.” You called to the head waitress who shot you a skeptical look.

“You used to hate closing.” She mused, “What’s with the sudden change of heart?”

You shrugged, “Nothing in particular.”

She smirked, “So it has absolutely nothing to do with the new dishwasher?”

Pink bloomed on your cheeks, “He’s a line cook and no it doesn’t.”

“Uh-huh, sure it doesn’t.” She mocked, “If you’re gonna fuck just don’t do it in the kitchen.” 

Your face twisted in disgust and you almost dropped the napkins you held, “That is so gross.” 

She laughed, dropping the keys on the bar, “If I find any bodily fluids in my office you’re fired.” 

“You are disgusting.” You hissed, face hot and she only laughed harder.

You finished cleaning off the remainder of the tables, peeking into the kitchen occasionally as the last two cooks left for the night. 

The weight of your exertion hit hard as you entered the kitchen, legs seeming to give out as you bent down to remove your heels. 

James noticed your discomfort and let out a chuckle, “Let me.” 

You stood up a bit too quickly, head spinning for a second as you were lifted onto the counter, James crouching to slip off your shoes. You sighed leaning back onto your palms. 

“Tough day?” he asked, turning back to open the fridge. 

You nodded, “Kids are assholes.” 

James laughed, “And why's that?”

You yawned eyes watering from its force as you answered, “Well one little highschool shit grabbed my ass.”

James froze, he hand hovering midair as he processed what you had just told him, “What?”

“Oh yeah, entitled rich kids always think they can touch whatever they want. It's why I hate serving teenagers.” You complained not noticing the distress you had put James under.

“This happens regularly?” He was appalled.

    “Well not really regularly more like once a month, it’s not always teenagers though,” You explained, “Oo what’s that?” 

    James set the container of chocolate-covered strawberries in front of you. His mouth still agape “Once a month isn’t regular?”

    You huffed, “Can we stop talking about it? It happens to every waitress.”

    “Yeah, sorry,” James mumbled watching as you bit into a strawberry, lipstick smearing.

    “You going to have one of these?” You asked, holding one between your thumb and pointer finger. 

    “Sure.” James went to grab the strawberry only for you to pull it away with a grin.

    “No, no, I get to feed it to you.” Your smile was sweetly arranged. 

    Heat tingled on his neck like tv static, “Don’t be ridiculous y/n.” 

    “Oh come on James, don’t be a pussy.” You taunted waving the fruit in front of him as color painted his cheeks. 

    He glared at you in mock annoyance as his heartbeat began to run, “Fine.”

    You giggled as he took the berry into his mouth, lips barely grazing your fingertips as he pulled away. 

    James had never been more embarrassed in his life, he chewed the sweet fruit refusing to meet your eyes as you continued to laugh.

    “You’re cute ya’ know.” You giggled.

    James scoffed, a mix of bittersweet coming from your words, “Whatever.” He walked away from you hiding his flushed face. 

    You whined, “I’m not joking. You are really cute.”

    “Seriously y/n stop,” James spoke, his voice laced with disappointment and melancholy. 

    You rolled your eyes, “You’re such an idiot James.” 

    He leaned against the refrigerator as you plopped another berry into your mouth. His arms crossed as a pout you had found yourself obsessed with took his lips. 

    “A few girls actually did want your number.” You hummed watching as he seemed to perk up, reminding you of a puppy given a toy. “I was supposed to get it for them, but I didn’t really want to.”

    James scrunched his brows, “Why not?”

    “Cause I wanted your number dumbass.” You scoffed, “I wasn’t about to give it to someone else.” `

    This only confused him more, “Why would you want my number?”

    A groan lifted from your lips, “Your skull is so thick James. I want your number because you’re cute and funny and all that shit.” your voice fell to a mumble and your eyes became glued to your swinging feet.

    “Why didn’t you ask for my number?” James challenged and you felt your already warm face grow hot. 

    “I was nervous.” You muttered bitterly not liking the vulnerable position you had been put into.

    James was suddenly stepping towards you “What was that?” he grinned hand to his ear mockingly.

    “You’re enjoying this too much.” You grumbled, “Look I like you, I think you’re cute and sweet and funny now are you going to continue being a dick or give me a proper response?” 

    James continued to beam, stepping closer to you as you glared up at him with pink cheeks. 

    “Well, you’re really cute too.” James said, “And I think you were being the dick for making me try to impress you for three weeks only to say you liked me the entire time.”

    You were tempted to bury your head in your hands but considering that would mean you breaking his gaze you stopped yourself, “Oh fuck off.” you muttered heart thudding so loud you wondered if James could hear it.

    “Is that really what you want?” He questioned already knowing the answer. He leaned over you cupping your cheek.

    “Just kiss me already asshole.” You murmured.

    James tilted your head up to meet his lips. They were soft and plush, a thousand times better than you imagined them to be nights before. Your thighs parted as his own pressed against the counter between them in desperation to be closer to you. Closed kisses turned to open-mouthed ones, leaving the pleasant taste of strawberries on your tongue. 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @obsessedwithrandomthings @coldlilheart

Masterlist

[sunkisseddaffodils]

Flatmates!AU tenth doctor x reader (ft captain jack)

Pairing: tenth doctor x reader (ft captain jack)

Summary: where the reader is looking for a flatmate to rent out the room in their flat, having recently broken up with their partner. A strange man offers to rent the room for a lot of money. The reader can’t believe their luck. But is this man all that he seems?

Genre: mostly fluff

Warnings: swearing

Note: you can request a doctor who fic/ reader insert by asking on my profile <3

-

Four hours had gone by when you had finally finished putting up flyers about your room to rent around numerous cafes and bars in the town centre. Each time you did it, you felt a pang of sadness. A week ago, your partner had broken up with you and now if you didn’t find another person to sublet the room in your flat, you’d be evicted. You took the bus home and as you were wandering down the road to your flat; you noticed a strange man dressed in a blue suit sitting on your front garden wall. Lowkey, he was cute, but you couldn’t be thinking about that right now. Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was a murderer with the way your week was going. Swiftly, you jogged on over, demanding what on earth this guy was doing. He gave you a cheeky grin, asking, pointing to your apartment:

‘I presume you’re the one who’s renting out the room in this flat?’

All of this seemed kinda dodgy but surely things couldn’t get any worse.

‘Yeah, I am..’

He jumped down off the wall, fixing his brunette hair.

‘Wonderful! I wanna rent the room from today’

Your eyes widened.

‘Oh my god really? Wait, no hang on a second. I need to do a credit check and shit. You can’t just move in straight away,’

The tall, slim man reached into his pockets, producing a thick wad of cash.

‘Would this be enough to cover the first few months rent?’

‘Oh my fucking god’

He took this as a yes, placing the money in your hand, running up the steps to the front door, asking for the keys. You gave them to him, reluctantly.

He continued up the stairs to your flat with you running after him

‘Excuse me, but I don’t even know your name’.

He reached the living-dining area and sat down on your old, worn-out, leather couch.

He sat up, crossing his legs.

‘Oh, me? I’m the Doctor.’

He couldn’t be serious. You stood in front of him, crossing your arms, with a look of confusion on your face.

‘Doctor who?’

For some reason, he looked as if he was enjoying this.

‘It’s just ‘the doctor,’

You were about to remark about how ridiculous this was when he abruptly leapt off the settee and started rummaging around your kitchen cupboards. It seemed that he found what he wanted, and he stuck his finger inside an old pot of peanut butter and then licked it off. You really couldn’t believe your eyes. It took every ounce of your being to stop yourself from screaming the house down.

‘Doctor, please just stop for a second’

He placed down the peanut butter, putting his arms up apologetically.

‘Okay, sorry’

Taking in a breath, you began to list the rules if he was to stay here.

‘Doctor, you can stay here. But under these conditions: one, please keep all the shared living spaces clean and tidy, don’t be noisy and you’re gonna have to buy your own food if you want to do what you just did again’

The doctor nodded in acknowledgement, and you gestured for him to follow you. You gave him a quick tour of his room and the bathroom. He said thanks and you let him get set up in his room. For the rest of the night, you shut yourself in your room as you had an urgent report that was due at work the next day. In the middle of the night, you awoke, needing the toilet, and as you passed his room, you could hear the doctor talking to someone. All you could make out was that he talking on the phone to someone called captain jack. Checking your phone, you thought, ‘damn, it’s 4 am, doesn’t this guy ever sleep?’. The next couple of months passed smoothly except for the times where you noticed strange things about this man called the doctor. He didn’t eat. He didn’t sleep. And he always shut himself in his room. Often, you heard strange noises coming from his room. A sort of whirring sound. Maybe you had been too harsh that first time you met? But you couldn’t complain as he had overpaid his rent massively, and he didn’t want it back. That would keep you going for a while. Overall, he seemed a genuinely nice, guy. After work one night, you decided you were going to break the ice, try to get to know him better. It was 9 pm when you left work, you strolled down the dark road. Your heart sunk when you noticed the gate was left open, and the bins were strewn over the floor. Then, to top it all off, the front door was wide open... 

Thoughts raced around your mind. Were we being burgled? Where is the Doctor? Is he alright? You scampered up the stairs into your flat, where you heard a loud commotion coming from the doctor’s room. Shit. Grabbing a frying pan, you barged into his room to a very unexpected scene. The doctor was pressed up against the wall, being strangled by a massive green, slimy .. monster? What the fuck was going on? Without thinking, you ran up behind the thing and smashed it around the head with the frying pan. The doctor fell to the floor, panting. He struggled to raise his arm and this loud noise emitted from a blue screwdriver thing he was pointing at the ceiling. The monster roared in pain at this. The doctor ran and pulled you out of the room screaming at you to ‘run’. In the living room, the doctor pointed the screwdriver at his bedroom door, which seemed to lock it. He was pointing it around the room while you stood useless in the corner of the kitchen. The doctor was talking to that guy again, but it wasn’t on a phone but an earpiece. You couldn’t understand anything he was saying.

‘That should stall it for a bit’

You tried hard to gather your thoughts, demanding to know what was going on, running over to the doctor and tapping his shoulder.

‘Care to explain what the fuck is going on’

The doctor’s expression was sympathetic as he began to elaborate.

‘So basically your partner was actually a slitheen in disguise and they used you and your apartment to rebuild their ship which is above your flat and call for the rest of their race to come and destroy the earth and sell it for profit. I was just waiting for it to return so I could stop it.’

You didn’t even understand half of what he said. Slowly, you made your way over to the couch to sit down to rest. Running your hands through your hair, you asked the doctor:

��Who are you?’

He sat down on the couch next to you, trying to be as comforting as possible.

‘I’m just a traveller, a passerby. Once I’m done here, you’ll be safe.’

Before you could reply, the door to the doctor’s bedroom was torn down by the Slickeen? Slitheen? Whatever the fuck it was. Both of you jumped up from the couch, backing away as far as possible. It came bounding through. The Doctor pulled you behind him as he made one last offer for the Slitheen to leave the planet.

‘I’m giving you one last chance. Get off this planet and I won’t do you any harm’.

The Slitheen simply cackled in response and marched towards them.

The doctor shouted at you urgently 

‘Do you have any vinegar?!’

‘Yeah, I think so in the top cupboard. Why?’

The doctor hurriedly shoved a bottle in your hand, ordering you to:

‘Quick, throw the vinegar over it. No time to explain why just do it!’

Both of you chucked the acidic substance over the Slitheen and it exploded all over the walls and floors, including yourself and the Doctor. Dumbfounded, you stared around at the thick, green goo which had wrecked your apartment. How the hell were you gonna clean this up? The doctor made his way out of the flat, informing the person on his earpiece.

“We’re done here. Bring the tardis’

You chased him down the stairs but he disappeared into an old blue police box. You knocked violently on the box.

‘OI! You can’t just leave after all that.’

Another tall, slim man walked out of the box and shook your hand

‘Captain Jack Harkness. And who are you?’

Blushing you answered ‘Y/N’

The doctor reemerged from the police box, having somehow changed his clothes. You gave him an evil glance as you were still covered in gunk.

‘Jack, stop it.’

Jack looked offended.

‘What? I was just saying hello’

The doctor instantly responded.

‘Well don’t. Anyways, thank you for all your help, Y/N. To make up for wrecking your flat, do you wanna come on a trip with us?’

You replied uncertainly

‘Where?’

‘Anywhere in space and time’, he grinned widely, leaning against the police box.

‘How?’

‘This police box is a ship that can travel in space and time. It’s called the TARDIS.’

Nothing could surprise you anymore. Of course, you had to say yes. Captain Jack and the Doctor looked very happy with your answer and led you into the Tardis where you would have many adventures with the two of them.

[imjustthemechanic]

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers Part 16/? - Out of the Frying Pan

Out of the frying pan, but into the fire would be a worse mistake than Peggy knows.

-

Part of Peggy’s mind was flying.  How had Masters found out about this?  Thompson would have let him know when Kay escaped, but wouldn’t have had any idea where they were going because Peggy hadn’t told anyone about the coordinates except Daniel and… well, there was Russel, who could probably guess the significance of them but would not have known that Peggy was planning to actually investigate.  She’d only mentioned them to him once.  Had Kay left a note?  Or was her initial theory correct, and he’d just overheard Jason’s radio message to Stark Industries?  What had Jason actually said?

Another part was doing its level best to clamp down on the urge to punch him in the face.

“Agent Carter,” he said.  “Fleeing the country upon finding out you’re under investigation doesn’t look good at all.”

“I had every intention of returning, which you would know if you’d asked my landlord or my employer,” Peggy replied.

He was not impressed.  “And what’s your explanation for assisting in the escape of a known Soviet agent – again – and attempted theft of US Government property?”

“Don’t insult me,” said Kay.  “I escaped by myself.”

Masters glanced at her.  “From full-security police lockup under the noses of the entire East Coast SSR and the CIA?”

“What?  Like it’s hard?” asked Kay, in a mock ‘dimwit’ voice, wiggling her head and shoulders to cement the implication that any floozy could have done it.

“What government property are you referring to, Mr. Masters?” Peggy asked.  She had a feeling she knew the answer, and she didn’t like it a bit.

Masters turned to her again.  “You know damn well I’m referring to Captain America and his equipment.  The shield is the world’s entire known stock of Vibranium, and his body is the only hope we or anybody else have of recreating Erskine’s serum.  And you were about to sell both of them to the Russians!”  He looked her over in disgust.  “Were you already planning that when he was alive, or is it that now he’s dead his wishes don’t matter anymore?”

This time Peggy very nearly did punch him – she actually raised an arm before she managed to get herself under control, leading Kay to grab her around the shoulders to stop her, and several of the soldiers surrounding them to aim their guns at her face.

“They certainly don’t seem to matter to you,” she said through her teeth, shrugging Kay off of her.  “Steve would not have wanted to be an object of study after his death.”

“Captain Rogers wanted us to win the war,” Masters replied.  “We’re fighting a new war now and he’s gonna be our key to winning it.”  He stepped back.  “I want these two put in the brig, Captain Lewis – and don’t take eyes off them for a moment.  They’re slippery.”

The man who must’ve been Lewis nodded.  “Do it,” he told the men.  “And get the Captain straight down to the morgue to thaw out. The scientists are waiting.”

Peggy and Kay were taken unceremoniously by the shoulders and frog-marched inside.

It took a few minutes for the red haze at the edge of Peggy���s vision to fade away and her fists to unclench before she could think about this logically, and when she did, she began to realize she was in very serious trouble indeed.  All this time Masters had nothing on her but suspicions and circumstances, but now she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, so to speak.  Who would believe her story that she and Howard were just bringing Steve back for burial when they’d been so secretive about the whole thing?  Perhaps Kay would testify in her defense… but who would believe her when she was an admitted spy and a murderess?

The soldiers put them in a cell in the brig, far down in the belly of the ship, and left two very large and imposing men to watch over them. Peggy and Kay sat down on the little cot in the cell, and their guards sat down on either side of a small table outside, and dealt themselves a hand of cards.  How ironic, Peggy thought with a barely-suppressed sneer.

Kay had said nothing since mocking the SSR’s security out on the deck.  She did not look particularly inclined to say anything now.  She merely sat looking at her watch.

“Have you anything to say for yourself?” Peggy asked her.

There was no reply.  Of course there wasn’t.  Kay had never explained anything and there was no reason for her to start now. Instead of trying to talk, Peggy decided to try to think.

What were their options at this point?  They could sit here and be taken back to the States for trial – that would most likely end in a guilty verdict and imprisonment, if not hanging, for both of them.  They could try to escape.  Peggy could probably pick the lock on the door but the guards would see and hear her doing it, and she doubted she could take both of them.  Perhaps Kay could take one, but that would just be further evidence that the two were in cahoots.  What a silly-sounding word cahoots was.  Where on Earth had it come from?

If they did escape, where would they go?  They were on a ship.  Peggy could not fly a plane or a helicopter, although she wondered whether Kay might be able to.  Their only options would be to take a lifeboat or to jump into the water.  The former would be easily pursued, and the latter meant death by hypothermia.  The same fate Steve himself had suffered… also nicely ironic.

They could try to escape long enough to go get Steve’s body back, but what would they do with it?  The options seemed to be destroying it or dumping it overboard.  The second was not a good idea – it might still be retrieved.  But the former was deeply distasteful.  Peggy couldn’t imagine cutting him up or… or burning him?  The ship would have huge furnaces to keep the crew warm and provide steam for the propellers.  Those would certainly make a fine crematorium… could she bring herself to do it herself?

Maybe she could, if she were desperate enough.  At the moment Peggy had nothing to lose… but that still left the question of how to get out of this cell…

“You stupid bitch,” said Kay suddenly.

Peggy’s head snapped up.  “Excuse me?” she said.  Her companion had said nothing at all for what must have been ten minutes at least, and now was offering insults out of nowhere?

Kay shot a glance at the guards, then glared at Peggy. “You had no plan, did you? Here I thought you were coming out here knowing what you were doing, but you had no idea and now we’re in here!”

Ah.  “Why should I have a plan?” Peggy demanded.  “I didn’t think we were going to find a bloody thing up here except ice and snow!  Did you really think I was taking your word for something so important?  How can you be smart enough to escape from Thompson and yet stupid enough to think I would trust you?”

“You didn’t need to trust me!  You just needed to have a backup plan!”  Kay gave Peggy a shove.

“Don’t you dare touch me, you daft Russian whore!” Peggy shoved her back, and the two of them rolled off the cot to grapple on the floor.   Having fought with Dottie more than once, Peggy knew the Russian women were ruthless and skilled, but now Kay wrestled like a child who’d never been in a fight in her life, grabbing and pinching and pulling hair.  Peggy did likewise.  If this were going where she thought it was going…

“That’s enough, you two!” a male voice announced. Keys jingled.  Peggy didn’t dare look up as two pairs of heavy boots approached – the men were going to try to separate her.  For an instant she caught Kay’s eye, and saw a smile on the other woman’s face.

Then a pair of hands grabbed Peggy’s shoulders.  She wrapped her legs around the man’s boots and twisted – he fell against the cot.  Before he could right himself, Peggy was on her feet and grabbed him by the hair to smash his face against the wall repeatedly.  By the second impact his nose was bloody, and by the fourth he was limp in her hands.  She let him drop and turned around.  Kay had gotten a hold of the second man’s tags and twisted them tight around his neck. Peggy was just in time to see him turn blue and pass out.

“Well done,” Peggy said, as the soldier collapsed at Kay’s feet.

“Letting them think you’re stupid and emotional is always your best weapon,” Kay told her, brushing off her hands.

“I have some experience with that myself,” said Peggy. “To the morgue?”

“Obviously.”

They helped themselves to the unconscious soldiers’ guns, and Peggy took the keys off one of their belts and locked the cell door on them.

The ship they were on was a Casablanca-class escort carrier.  Peggy had never been on one, but she knew that on large military ships both the brig and the morgue were deep in the interior, far from anywhere the rank and file sailors would normally go.  Left to her own devices, it probably wouldn’t have taken her very long to find the one from the other, but she didn’t have to.  Kay appeared to know exactly where she was going.  She headed down a flight of steps, and then paused in the stairwell, putting an ear to the doors.  Peggy crept up next to her.

“How’s he doing?” a male voice asked.

“He’s free of most of the ice,” a woman replied, “but still pretty solid.”

Peggy put her eye to the gap between the two doors. Two doctors in white coats were talking to a brunette nurse, just to the right of a solid door labeled MORGUE. The door was closed and apparently locked.

“We can’t wait too long, or the blood will start to clot,” said the shorter of the doctors.

“We’ll still have the bone marrow,” the first man reassured him.  “Can you give me an estimate, Miss Harper?”

“They’re saying at least another hour,” the nurse said, and turned to unlock the door.  All three people headed through.

Peggy and Kay exchanged a glance to make sure they were still agreed as to the plan.  It seemed they were, so they both burst out of the stairwell and took the trio from behind. Peggy clocked the taller one on the back of the head with the gun she’d taken off her jailer.  He dropped to his knees, holding his bleeding scalp.  Kay vaulted onto the shorter one’s back and knocked him forward into Miss Harper, spilling both of them onto the floor. Miss Harper tried to scream, but Kay kicked her in the face, and then drove her knee into the second doctor’s jaw. He fell.

Inside the morgue room, two more doctors and three nurses were standing around the gurney where Steve’s body was now lying.  They were, for the moment, too shocked by this sudden and violent intrusion to react to it, which gave Peggy and Kay the advantage. Peggy grabbed the nearest equipment tray and hit one of the doctors in the face with it.  The first blow appeared to merely stun him and he just stood there blinking at her.  She hit him three more times, until he fell.  One of the nurses tried to flee, and Peggy pushed the doctor’s body into her.

While Peggy was occupied with that, Kay had shoved the other doctor into the open drawer that had been waiting to receive Steve’s body. She shut it and turned the lock, then she and Peggy both pulled out their guns and trained them on the two nurses still standing.  Both women put their hands up.

Kay twitched her chin towards the first two doctors and Miss Harper, all lying on the floor in various states of unconsciousness. “Get them out of the way,” she ordered the nurses.

The women didn’t move.

“We have had a very upsetting day,” Peggy warned them.

Terrified, the nurses went to start rolling the bodies of their co-workers away from the door.  Kay kept her eyes and a gun on them, while Peggy took the brakes off the gurney.  There was a white drop cloth over the corpse.  Peggy knew it would be a terrible idea to look beneath it, but she told herself that after all this trouble they had better make sure they had the right body, and lifted it for a peek.

There he was.  They’d cut his uniform off him, leaving him quite naked.  Bruises and scrapes he’d gotten on his last mission were still there.  Peggy recognized one on his arm where a bullet had grazed him.  She’d bandaged that herself, because he’d been too sunken in depression from the death of his friend to do it.  And the cut on his cheek, just beneath his left earlobe. She’d kissed that.  The memory, buried for three years, was suddenly as fresh as if it had happened moments ago.

She reached to touch the place, and quickly drew her hand back upon finding his skin was wet and still icy cold, feeling more like frozen meat than human tissue.  How was he still pink?  As he thawed the blood ought to start pooling in his back and buttocks, like it always did on dead bodies.  Maybe those parts were still frozen.

“Peggy!” Kay barked.  “Is that him?”

Peggy quickly dropped the cloth and wiped her wet fingers on her coat.  “It’s him,” she said.

“Follow me,” said Kay.

“Where are we going?” Peggy asked, as she wheeled the gurney out of the room.

Kay led the way up the hall with the longest strides she could take.  “The boiler room,” she said.

“Oh, good,” Peggy nodded.  Had Kay’s mission perhaps been to either secure Captain America’s body for her own people or, failing that, to see to it the Americans didn’t get a hold of him either?  Peggy decided she didn’t care anymore.  Whatever the reasons, they were going to do right by Steve, and after that, if Masters wanted to hang her, she would go to the gallows with her head held high.

[inter-bellum]

You deserve to be happy

Song: There for you - Martin Garrix + Troye Sivan (!) I will follow you into the dark - Death cab for cutie (Covered by YUNGBLUD and Halsey)

So, this fanfic is inspired on this post (you have no idea how long it took me to have a link that included all the reblogs). Of course I got a little very carried away and it turned 4 pages long. Oh well, I hope it lives up to your expectations, @princess-of-fandom!! The quote at the end is part of this post by @dylanholyhellobrien. With all the credits given, enjoy!! (if you feel like the improper credits were given, be sure to dm me, I don’t mind at) 

PS: I don’t have ao3 hence why I post it here. If you want to post it anywere, ao3 or fanfiction.net, on behalf of me, you can, but please give the proper credits and message me so that I can check it out :)

Unedited (I tried my best, but English isn’t my native language.) 

The contours of the trees that lined the horizon finally regained shape under the guidance of the first sun rays. In the dead of the night, the huts, tents and trees had blotched together with the sky to assemble ill-proportioned shadows that made Thomas’s heartbeats rise to feverish heights.  

The hammock wobbled as he swung his legs over the edge to find solid ground. He steadied himself against the stripped bark of the pole and counted his breaths until they were calm and measured. 

“Beautiful, huh?” Minho said when he noticed Thomas’ gaze on the horizon. His face finally started to lose the last traces WCKD’s experiment. The light in his eyes has returned in full force and gone was the ghostly white sheen on his cheeks. 

Thomas didn’t share the sentiment. “It’s too alike.” 

Minho sighed. “But it will never be the same.” There was one thing that still seemed in WCKD’s possession; the fire that lingered in his friend’s voice, the kind that used to deliver his characteristic snarky comments tirelessly. Or perhaps it wasn’t WCKD that took it. 

They watched as the sun climbed higher and higher and other immunes starting to appear from their tents. A couple people Thomas had befriended during the course of the first few weeks greeted them as they strolled by. 

“You’re hungry?” Minho, who still by his side, jerked his chin over to where Frypan was preparing what seemed to be a thick soup. Just when Thomas was about to say no, hunger hit him like a punch in the gut. 

“Yeah, sure.” He ignored the relieved look his friend shot him. 

The familiar sound of pots and pans scraping against the metal of spoon and knife like tools reached them, Frypan looked up and tossed them a wave.

“Saved something for you, shanks.” 

A bowl with soup was thrust into his hands. Thomas brought it to his lips, avoiding the chipped edges. It tasted like wet ashes in his mouth, something frequent when it came to food, but it was better than nothing. He smiled and nodded at Fry before wiping his mouth.  

After breakfast, he and Minho headed to fields. As one of the first things to establish, it started to become larger day by day. 

Soon, it will be bigger than the gardens in the Glade. 

That was like another punch in the gut. Thomas staggered on his feet. The only thing that kept him spiraling down to the ground was the smooth weight of the necklace. It was all he had. Whenever his heart would be choked by grief, unable to beat any longer, Thomas’d swear the necklace started beating instead, reminding him of his friend’s wishes. You deserve to be happy. 

“Are you okay?” Minho’s face swam into focus. Thomas managed to respond with a shaky nod. 

“Yeah... yeah, don’t worry ‘bout me. I’m... fine.” The last word needed to be wrenched of his tongue but he was glad that his voice didn’t crack. To strengthen his reassurance, Thomas grabbed a shovel and set to work. 

The day gliding by, like a boat on the peaceful water. Large campfires were howling their scorching anguish to the night sky as people gathered around them. Thomas watched as the workers started to leave the fields, collecting the shovels in various bins of all shapes and sizes that stood near the entrances. 

One of the boys who had worked alongside him walked past him. Upon noting that Thomas was still rooted in the same spot, he freed himself from the group. 

“We’re roundin’ up, Tommy.” 

Tommy. The moment he closed his eyes, he was back in the maze-like realms of his mind. Where memories piled up on top of memories to create the walls and ivy sealing them away from focus. Now they were moving, and the ivy was tearing like wet paper.  

Tommy

“Don’t!” Thomas lurched forward to grab the boy’s shirt, nearly lifting him off his feet. “Don’t,” he repeated. “Don’t ever call me that, only he could!” 

Thomas felt himself being janked away by someone. Other people entered from the side of his blurred vision, crowding him and the other boy.  He lowered his eyes to the ground. A hand clamped around his shoulder for the second time this day. 

“Allright, slim it everyone.” Minho’s voice topped that of the other’s as he stood besides Thomas, with his hand still on his back. The murmur remained among the immunes as their gaze drifted from Thomas to the shell-shocked boy, whose eyes already harboured a faint understanding. 

“Okay.” Minho muttered once the crowd had settled down. Thomas could feel his friend’s gaze tracing the edges of his face. “Thomas, what happened, man?”  

“He…” Thomas struggled to catch his breath. “He called me Tommy.” 

“He… what?” Minho blinked stupidly. Like… Like he has forgotten who’d always say that. 

Thomas had already turned around, shrugging his way through the crowd, ignoring Minho’s calls. The blurry remnants of unshed tears dotted his vision as he stumbled down the path. The soft earth underneath his feet turned into the fine sand of the beach. Large waves were smashed against the sides of the ship while others reached the shore, dumping their foamy residue in the sand before retreating again. 

He pursued his trek along the beach. Looking back over his shoulder, he could see the smoke of fire trying to reach for the moon until they were shattered and dispersed by the wind. The sound of laughter was drowned out by that of the waves as Thomas neared a large rock formation. Amidst the asymmetrical blocks of grey sat a black, rounded stone with a name notched into it. Upon coming closer you could see delicate leaves carved underneath the name. 

Thomas didn’t know when he stopped visiting Newt, but now that he was here, it felt like coming home to an empty house. He sank to his knees while soft sobs wretched themselves past his lips.

Instead of saying something to the boy sleeping beneath the stone, Thomas settled on shifting the sand through his fingers, gathering the grains in small piles besides the grave. Thomas watched the tide change. 

“Thought you’d be here.” Minho took his place next to Thomas.

“Sorry, I just… I just lost my shit when-” 

Minho cut him off. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Clyde’s not mad.” 

Absence of either of their voices left the silence to be filled by the sound of waves and screams of seagulls. 

“Is this a closed meeting or can we join?” Brenda’s voice filled the silence. She, Gally and Frypan were standing behind them, holding a bottle of what seemed to be the drink Gally used to make back in the Glade. 

As an answer, Thomas scooted to one side to make room and together they formed a semi circle around Newt’s grave. The silence was filled by the waves once more while they passed the bottle from hand to hand until it was empty. 

“Do you remember, Gally? When we snuck into Fry’s pantry to steal some jam and using it to dye Newt’s hair?” Minho suddenly asked. 

Between a couple snorts of laughter Gally managed to muster a nod. 

“So it was you?” Frypan gave both of them an incredulous look. Thomas could laughter bubbling from his lips. 

“Why did I never hear of this story?” 

Gally shrugged. “Newt can be pretty scary when he places a knife on your throat in the middle of the night…” The grumpy faced blond shuddered.  

“At least he got the jam out.” Fry muttered. 

“Not completely, though,” Thomas could feel a grin making its way on his face. “I remember when coming up in the box, Newt’s hair had this pink shine.” 

Each story or memory that came afterwards earned round of loud laughter. Brenda, at some point, went back to the camp to get some more drinks and the laughter went on. 

You deserve to be happy. Maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t as far away as Thomas thought. 

“If there is a reason why I’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died, I’m willing to wait for it.” 

[goldenzingy46]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23228848

Chapter 1: Remus Lupin, Age 5                    

Notes:          

Maybe I shouldn't have opened my fic with the werewolf attack... oh well.

This chapter is exactly 666 words lol

  The Lupin cottage was an exceptionally fine place to be, a cosy place with whitewashed walls and flowery curtains, plump sofas with bright coloured cushions and many wood tables covered in books and house plants, well-lit and humming with happiness. From the kitchen you could smell the wonderful scent of Hope Lupin cooking, usually accompanied by humming, whistling, or singing. Upstairs, little five-year-old Remus Lupin slept, surrounded by love and happiness.

Three people lived in this house, two of whom we’ve already met: Hope Lupin, Lyall Lupin, and Remus Lupin.

And oh! Speak of the devil! The door of the Lupin cottage was flung open, and a man sailed in, calling out to his wife.

“Hope, darling, I passed a new law on werewolves.”

Lyall Lupin was a proud man who worked in the ministry, and he couldn’t be happy than when making sure society was safe.

“You see, they now have to have registration numbers tattooed onto their wrists, and they can’t have a wand. They have to turn up at the ministry every full moon and be put into a holding cell to protect people. Make sure it’s safe. Safe for my little man.” Lyall said, swaggering into the kitchen.

“That’s nice, dearie. Why don’t you go and check on Remus?” Hope replied, knowing that he wouldn’t stop making these laws until all werewolves were removed from society altogether.

Lyall was on cloud nine as he strolled up the stairs, intending to check on his five-year-old son then get to work writing his next law, banning werewolves from having jobs and sending them to live with a human family or remain in the ministry full time. He slipped open the door to find Remus shaking in the middle of the bed, looking terrified.

He walked over to him and sat down beside him. “What’s wrong, son?” Lyall asked, stroking Remus’ hair.

“Papa, I think there’s a monster under the bed.” He replied, sniffling.

“Don’t worry, Remus, no monsters would visit you tonight. And if they do, think happy thoughts and they’ll go away.” He hugged his son tight, proud of how he was protecting him from creatures of evil.

“Thank you, papa,” Remus whispered, wiping his face with his hand, and curling up to go back to sleep.

Less than half an hour later there was a scream, and a howl. Hope Lupin, a woman of middling age, ran up the stairs, frying pan in hand, slamming open the door to her precious son’s room and almost froze at the sight in front of her. Fenrir Greyback stood, wolf form’s eyes glinting, her son in his mouth, bleeding, dripping with blood, crying, screaming.

She let out a battle cry and lunged at him with her frying pan, dodging the claws and smacking Fenrir Greyback with the pan repeatedly, watching his head slam up against the wall, only satisfied when she saw the trickle of blood, but smacked him again anyway so she could pry Remus from his maw and keep him safe. How dare he harm her son!

The werewolf was still coming closer and closer, which was when Lyall came rushing in, just as she gave Remus a hug, kissed him on the nose and promised him it would be alright, even with Greyback looming above them both, because her husband was letting off a volley of spells to hold him back and drive him away. “Reducto!” Lyall screamed, adrenaline coursing through his body, the scarlet spell leaving an enormous scorch mark on his fur and burnt through the flesh, the sickening scent causing Remus to cry more and nearly throw up, and the wolf to leap out the window, smashing the glass as he fled, leaving a pool of crimson in his wake.

“Remus?” Lyall whispered, cleaning the blood and werewolf saliva from his son’s throat.

A huge bite mark scarred it, red and raw.

Lyall looked at Hope, eyes burning. “We’ll keep him safe. But no one must know. No one.”

[headfulloffantasies]

Home is Where the Devil Lives

Peter loves his new apartment. Matt does not.

Peter’s new apartment was a dream, a castle, compared to the rat hole he’d been living in. He had a second bedroom! And a kitchen without vermin. And a bathroom that actually fit a sink next to the shower and toilet. The only problem was that Matt hated it.

Peter dragged a half conscious Daredevil in through the fire escape after a brutal smack down with Kingpin.

“You’re lucky this place is so close,” Peter griped. “You wouldn't have made it to Hell’s Kitchen.”

Daredevil didn’t respond, too busy bleeding profusely from a knife wound to the ribs. Peter thumped through the window onto his orange rug.

“Alexa, turn on the lights and raise the heat to 20 degrees.”

“Turning on the lights,” the robot voice answered.

Matt stirred, tipping his head to the side. “Who’s that?”

“Alexa, say hi to Matthew.”

“Hi, Matthew.” Alexa echoed.

“You have an AI?” Matt slurred slightly.

“Nah,” Peter said as he got Matt settled on the couch. “It’s an Amazon smart home. It turns on the lights and connects to the internet and stuff.”

Peter dug his first aid kit out from under the kitchen sink and padded back to Matt. 

“Take this,” Peter held out a couple of painkillers. 

“I don’t want ‘em,” Matt groaned, twisting on the couch.

“Trust me, you will. I am awful with a needle.”

“You sew your own costumes.”

“That is fabric. Why does everyone think sewing skin is the same thing?”

Peter coaxed Matt into taking the pills. He peeled back Matt’s suit and swore. 

“Don’t bleed on my couch, it’s new.”

“It smells like cat.”

“It’s new to me.”

Peter finally finished the stitches and sat back to admire a bad job done with good intentions. He passed Matt his phone.“You’re staying here tonight. Call Foggy and tell him you’re not going into work tomorrow.”

Matt shook his head, trying to push himself up on his elbows. He got about halfway there. “I’m fine. I’ll make it.”

“You will not. It’s freezing out.”

“No it’s not.”

Peter crossed his arms. “Alexa, what’s the current temperature?”

“It is currently 2 degrees Celsius.”

Peter splayed his palms to silently say “I told you so”. It wasn’t wasted on blind eyes.

“I don’t care.”

“I do. I will not be responsible for my lawyer dying of pneumonia.”

Peter moved into the kitchen to give Matt some privacy.

He shouldn’t have bothered. Matt on drugs didn’t know how to control his volume level. Peter heard Matt’s entire side of the conversation.

“Come and get me,” Matt hissed. “I hate it here.”

Ouch. And yeah, there was a layer of sarcasm in Matt’s voice, but no more than he usually buttered onto conversations. 

Peter was hurt. How long had he and Matt been friends? Did Matt hate his other apartment too? Duh, Parker, even you hated that apartment. But then what gives? The new place was dope. There was running water that wasn’t brown. Maybe it wasn’t about the apartment, maybe it was Peter. Nope, not going there, that hurt too much.

When he was done being hurt Peter was angry. Not everyone could afford penthouses and silk sheets, Double D. Some of us are just happy to have a place to hang our mask.

Matt stayed the night on the couch, but Peter wasn’t sure he’d actually slept. There were deep purple bags under the bruises on Matt’s face in the morning.

“D’you mind if I put on the radio while I make breakfast?” Peter asked as he pulled his skillet out of the cupboard. Matt made a wavy hand gesture of deference.

“Alexa, play my radio station.”

“Turning on the radio.”

Matt flinched as the announcers came on. 

“-whereabouts unknown. And in other news, the vigilante Daredevil was spotted with Spider-man last night at the docks. This reporter wonders if the two have formed a superhero swim team. That’s all for me, folks. Tune back in to Hero Watch after the break for our hot take on the Hulk’s dating life.”

“What is this?” Matt asked.

“Hm?” Peter hummed as he cracked an egg into the frying pan. “Oh, it’s Hero Watch. They report on street level heroes like us.” Peter ducked his head. “I know it’s silly to listen to what people say about Spider-man, but it’s kind of a parody show? They make up ridiculous stories.”

They listened to the rest of the show, laughing until Matt’s stitches pulled. 

Peter left for work, assuring Matt that he could stay on Peter’s couch as long as he needed. When Peter came home he was disappointed to find his blankets folded neatly at the end of the couch and no trace of Matt anywhere.

A week later, Matt swore up and down he was well mended and ready to go bust some heads.

“Alexa, call Matt.”

“Calling Matt.”

“Hello?” 

“Are we going out tonight?” Peter asked, hopping on one foot as he tried to pull his sock on.

“Are you putting on socks?” Matt asked.

Peter froze. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I listen to 3000 people a day putting their socks on. I know a sock hop when I hear it. I also know what it sounds like when you trip and smash your coffee table. Sit down and put your socks on like an adult. I can be ready to go in ten.”

“Meet me at my apartment?” 

“I’ll be on the roof.” Matt agreed.

“It’s cold. Meet me inside.”

“Roof. Ten minutes.”

“Call ended.” Alexa announced.

Peter glumly stared about his apartment. He liked it. It was soft, all done up with lots of blankets in the living room and lacy blue curtains in the kitchen that Aunt May had helped him pick out. It was comfortable. So what was Matt’s problem?

“Alexa, does my apartment smell?”

“I do not have a nose,” Alexa said. “I have seventy one internet results for getting rid of smells if you are interested?”

“No thanks,” Peter said, heading to his room to change into the Spidey suit.

Peter moaned to MJ about it in the Starbucks by her loft.

“Matt hates my apartment.”

“That’s because he’s bougie trash.” MJ said without looking up from her vanilla latte.

Peter was scandalized. “He is not!”

“He makes his own granola and won’t use brand name fabric softener. He’s bougie.”

That wasn’t fair, Peter knew. Matt was sensitive. He made his own food because tasting other people’s hands was gross. He used natural based fabric softeners because the artificial smells in brand names gave Matt headaches. 

“Does my place smell?”

“No, but your couch reeks of cat.”

Dang it. 

Aunt May’s birthday was next Sunday. Peter had been planning a surprise party at his apartment, and the only thing that would prevent him from going through with it would be an alien invasion.

All that was left to do was send out invitations. Because Peter was an exemplary millennial, he sent a group text invite. He left Matt a voice mail invitation specifically so Matt wouldn’t have to deal with Peter’s copious emojis. 

Peter sat on his saggy cat couch and watched the RSVPs come in. 

Alexa suddenly said, “New voicemail.”

“Alexa, play voicemail.”

Matt’s tinny voice filtered from Alexa’s speaker. “Hi Peter. I’m not going to make it to May’s party. I’ve got an appointment out of town that day.”

Peter deflated. 

This had gone on long enough.

The next night,  Peter went up to the rooftop to meet Daredevil. 

Matt swung up over the ledge, his red suit dark as blood in the twilight.

“Hey kid.”

Peter tugged his mask off. “Can I talk to you as a real person?” He asked.

Matt copied him by removing his mask. “What’s up, kiddo?”

Peter forgot how weird it was to watch Matt’s milky eyes search him out. Matt always settled his gaze close to eye contact, but he tended to miss by a bit, staring at people’s left ear or their nose.

“You really can’t make it Sunday?”

“I have an urgent appointment I can’t reschedule.”

Uh huh. Likely story.

“I know you hate my apartment.” 

Matt stiffened.

Whoops. Secrets are supposed to stay on the inside of mouths, Peter. But now that it was out of the bag, why not air it out? 

“Does it smell? Is it too loud? Is it too cold? Do you not like my cow salt shakers? Are the blankets not soft enough? I can get better blankets.”

“Peter,” Matt stopped him. “It’s not about the apartment.”

Peter’s stomach dropped. “You don’t like me.” The tears that sprang to his eyes surprised him. “It’s fine, I get it-,”

“Kid, listen with your ears, not your mouth,” Matt snapped.

Peter swallowed hard, nodding.

Matt scrubbed the back of his neck. He was flushed all the way to his red hair. “Your A.I. freaks me out.”

Peter blinked. “Alexa?”

“Yeah. She’s listening to everything, but she’s not really there.”

“She’s not spying on us, Double D.”

“I know that!” Matt rubbed his hands together, looking very lost. Just this once, Peter did the smart thing and stayed quiet.

Matt started again. “Alexa talks and it’s not right. I can hear the dissonance in her voice. And it’s like there’s a whole person in the room, but I can’t find her heartbeat, she doesn’t breathe, or smell, or have body heat. She’s like a ghost.”

“Oh.” Peter said. He never considered that Matt’s abilities might cause him pain in the absence of stimuli. “What do you want to do about it?”

Matt shrugged. “There’s not really anything I can do. I’m just going to have to get used to it.”

That didn’t seem fair. Peter had a long think. “What if I turn Alexa off when you come over?”

Matt tipped his head to one side. “You don’t have to do that.”

Peter shrugged. “Sure I do. I want you to be comfortable in my home. You’re my friend.”

“I’m officially triggered,” Matt snarked. “This conversation has reached my emotional limits for the week.”

“So you’ll come on Sunday?”

Matt glared at Peter’s ear. “I told you I have a meeting, kid. I’m not avoiding you.”

“Oh good. I love you too. Come here and give me a hug.”

Matt jumped off the side of the building.

[cinlat]

The Lost Medallion (SWtOR Fic - Part 3)

Part One Part Two

Word Count: 1776 Hunt Log: Side Notes and Journals Third Sighting: Nar Shaddaa

Son of a kriffing slemo. Had Wanda told me that Torian Cadera was an unattached man, I would have taken advantage of his passes a long time ago. It was three long months of pining and restless nights before I saw the blonde Mando again. I could have at least given him my frequency, or maybe allowed myself a few well earned fantasies.

When he showed up in that back alley, I really wasn't mad, but it wouldn't do for a girl like me to show her gratitude too quickly. I actually thought it was sweet that he wanted to be the hero. He didn't go cheap on the drinks either. One thing's for sure, next time I see Torian Cadera, we'll share more than half a beer.

Torian paused at the bottom of the ramp to their cargo ship. Clan Ordo had taken a contract from the Hutts to clear out a local gang of fanatics who'd taken it upon themselves to cleanse the Hutt moon. He had just set foot outside the hangar when the bellowing of a Wookiee drew his attention.

At first, the creature was all Torian could see. It stood two meters tall, with a massive vibrosword attached to his back, and waving his arms frantically. "He'd make a nice trophy, wouldn't he?" Corridan said, leaning an arm on Torian's shoulder. "Wonder who he's yelling at. Wanna take bets on how long until the floor's covered in blood?"

Torian shrugged his friend off and nodded towards a Twi'lek male entering the room. "Think that's our contact." Corridan sighed and moved off to greet the Hutt's emissary for details on the local gang's whereabouts. When Torian turned his attention back to the spectacle, the Wookiee threw his hands up and stormed off. In its place stood a plump woman with her arm extended, finger pointing towards a hangar bay, and foot tapping. Torian's breath caught.

Before he realized it, the Mandalorian's feet started towards a woman that had haunted his dreams for months. Captain Sadio Edan smirked at the retreating Wookiee, then turned on her heel to march out of the spaceport. Torian followed, curious about what the smuggler had gotten herself into this time. He noted the absence of Phil, and wondered if the little guardian droid would be smashed scrap when it tried to bar the Wookiee's path.

Torian hadn't intended to stalk Sadio. In fact, he planned to speak to her when he caught up, but training kept him in the shadows and out of sight of security cameras. That, and she moved a lot faster than he'd anticipated.

It wasn't a surprise when Sadio led Torian to through the gate that led down the loading docks behind a set of stores. Torian stopped when she did, and watched Sadio pound a fist on the door. Instead of speaking, he decided to see how she conducted business.

An old Besalisk answered with a scowl. "What you want, girl?" He hocked a glob of mucus onto the street by Sadio's boots and towered over her. Even from a distance, Torian could see disdain burning in the creature's yellow eyes.

Sadio placed gloved hands on ample hips and returned the Besalisk's glare. "I want payment for that shipment of Adegan eels that I spotted you two months ago."

The Besalisk drew to his full height, inflating the wattle beneath his chin in an act of intimidation. "Don't know what you talkin' bout, girl."

To Torian's amusement and horror, Sadio popped the now full wattle with a balloon like sound. Even the Besalisk looked surprised by the act. "Give me the credits, or I spill the beans about your side project, got it?"

Torian started forward at the same time the Besalisk did. The creature shoved Sadio back into the alley with one hand while brandishing a frying pan with one of the others. Sadio stumbled with a curse and went for her blaster. Torian closed the distance between them to ram his shoulder into the Besalisk at a run. The shop owner bellowed in rage when he staggered, then turned on Torian. "I'll smush you first, boy. Should'a minded your own business."

Even without a proper weapon, Torian knew that the Besalisk could cave his skull with a single blow from that pan. He dodged the first swipe, only to meet a heavy forearm that knocked him into the wall. One of the hands closed around Torian's throat, rotten teeth bared in a foul grimace. A muffled crack echoed through the heavy air, and the Besalisk's jowls went slack. The pressure on Torian's chest increased painfully before the Besalisk slid to the side with a gaping hole in his back. When Torian looked up, Sadio scowled at both he and the corpse. "Damn it, Cadera."

Torian rubbed his neck, baffled by her anger. "Good to see you, too."

Sadio pinned Torian with golden eyes made all the more prominent by the black face paint she wore. He'd wondered about it on Hutta, and why she chose such a peculiar pattern. Charcoal covered her forehead down to the eyes, then across the bottom lip to disappear into her collar, leaving her nose and cheeks bare.

"How am I supposed to get my credits now?" Sadio slammed a small blaster into the holster at her hip and crossed her arms. It took a moment before Torian realized that she expected an answer from him.

"He wasn't going to pay you," Torian argued. "That chakaar would have killed you, then thrown your body out with tomorrows scraps."

Sadio rolled her eyes, then paced two steps away. "I had it under control." Torian crossed his arms to mirror her agitation, and Sadio huffed in annoyance. "Whatever, what's done is done. Damn, I needed that money too. My ship's filling up with strays faster than I can feed them."

"Maybe you should have brought the Wookiee," Torian fired back before Sadio's words sank in. It had just been her and the small army of miniature droids last time he'd seen her. What had the smuggler gotten herself into now? According to Wanda, Sadio traveled alone.

"Bowdaar?" Sadio's gaze narrowed. "Just how long have you been following me?"

Torian shook his head. "Wasn't following." One dark brow raised beneath a shaggy mop of vibrant, green bangs. Torian let out a subtle breath. "I saw you in the spaceport, and thought I'd say hi." He paused to give cast an admonishing glare. "Who argues with a Wookiee?"

Sadio waved a hand. "Bowdaar owes me a life debt, he's honor bound not to kill me." Torian almost laughed at her word choice. He might have had he not known how seriously the species took those type of bonds.

When Sadio turned back towards her lifeless client, a surge of guilt ripped through Torian. "How much did he owe you?"

"Three shipments of eels," Sadio growled with a solid kick to the corpse. Torian let out a low whistle. That was a lot more credits than he could front.

"How about I buy you a drink," Torian offered while he considered different ways to get Sadio her money. She turned a cautious eye on him, and Torian shrugged. "Least I can do for the trouble I caused."

Sadio rubbed her chin as if considering Torian's offer. Finally, she jerked her head. "Fine, but I'll warn you, Cadera, I'm not a cheap date."

Torian laughed and held out a hand for Sadio to lead the way out of the alley. "Expected nothing less."

Torian escorted Sadio to a cantina nearby that he knew had the type of booze she'd be satisfied with. They settled at the bar, Torian offering for Sadio to order whatever she wanted. They'd just placed their orders when his comm rang again. "You should probably get that," she commented after the third time that he ignored Corridan's call. "It might be important."

"It can wait." No doubt his friend would understand Torian's motivation later. He'd already let this woman slip through his fingers twice, and had no intention of doing so again. "We'll be on Nar Shaddaa at least a week. Nothing that can't be put off for an hour or so."

Golden eyes widened in surprise, then a coy smile twisted Sadio's lips. "An hour or so, huh?" She nodded her thanks when the barkeep deposited a drink in front of her, then met Torian's gaze over the rim of her glass. "That's a lot of booze."

Torian raised his mug in silent salute, then tipped it back. His comm buzzed again, text only this time, and Torian sighed at the readout. Corridan wanted to move now, before the hooligans had time to dig in. Sadio chuckled into her alcohol. "I think your wife misses you."

"Not wife," Torian answered absently. "Brother." He tipped the rest of the contents down his throat, then asked for a slip of flimsi from the barkeep.

"Don't worry," Sadio said with a pat on Torian's shoulder. Even through his armor, Torian swore that he could feel her touch. "I'm sure she'll get around to harassing you soon."

The paper appeared, and Torian wrote a sequence of numbers down. "Can't," he continued while pulling out a couple of unmarked credit chips. "I'm not married." Sadio sputtered into her drink, then quickly wiped the excess foam off with a napkin. Torian grinned and slid the credits and flimsi towards her. "Sorry about the Besalisk shabuir. Consider this my payment. You ever need anything, give me a call."

Sadio blinked at Torian's offering, then scooped both into her hand. "How long is this good for?"

Torian shouldn't have been impressed that Sadio understood the importance of recycling comm frequencies. She was a smuggler, after all. "Can't say, so better not wait too long."

With that, Torian offered a nod and strode from the Cantina. As soon as he got his hands on Corridan, the man was going to regret being such a pain in Torian's shebs. He hoped that Sadio took advantage of the holo number before they were forced to change. The thought of waiting months to see her again was too much to bear.

[canaryatlaw]

well today was pretty good, best day in a while. I woke up at like, 8:20 with my alarm set for 8:45 and knew I wasn’t going to fall back asleep now that I had this knowledge so I just laid in bed and waited for my alarm to go off and then got up lol. I definitely packed like 4 different snacks in my purse, just because I felt like it was good to have them on hand for today (I ended up eating two of them). It was WAY TOO FUCKING COLD today, like 44, so I had to wear my fucking winter coat and it was awful and Chicago I’m so mad at you about this because it’s late May dammit I shouldn't have to still be putting up with this bullshit. I felt bad for the kids on the baseball/softball fields the bus passes that were already out there playing at 9 am when it was so cold. I do distinctly have memories of playing soccer in the snow, it was the end of the season and they had to get the games in, I legit had my winter coat on with my jersey over it, and it was legit snowing while we were playing. I can’t say it was really a negative memory though, because pretty much all my like, actual childhood memories of playing soccer were happy because I loved it so much, it was only once the breathing issues set in when I was 12 did they start becoming awful, frustrating and heartbreaking memories because I still loved it so much but I couldn’t do it now, and I felt so inadequate that I legit burst into tears on several occasions.....but then I found theatre and things were much happier again, so we can walk back that little tangent a little. But yeah, I took the bus to the train, I had to wait 11 minutes for the next train and it was fucking cold, I only had my coat, not my scarf or gloves or hat because IT’S MAY and I was freezing. But we got to church, a few minutes late but no big deal, I ended up sitting a little farther back than usual but it’s all good. I remembered upon arriving that small group sign ups opened up at 8 am this morning, and they fill up super fast, so I was bad and went on my phone discreetly during the service to make sure I could get a spot in the Young Adults/20s and 30s Singles small group. You’re supposed to be able to commit to 75% of the meetings before signing up, which I can’t technically do at this point because idk what’ll be happening in my life in July, but I know one of the leaders, she graduated from another law school in the city a few years back so I think I’ll just talk to her and be like as soon as I know if I have to leave I’ll drop out and someone else can have the spot and I’m sure she’ll be cool with it. Great worship as always, the little question they gave to talk to your neighbor for a minute while they transition was “if you could be any superhero who could you be” so I turn to the guy next to me and was like OH BOY, this is my fucking jam haha and we had a short conversation about DC vs Marvel and DCTV, so that was cool. Early in the sermon about the holy spirit my pastor brought up this group called “The Power Team” which I had completely forgot was a thing, but as soon as he said I had suddenly had these super vivid memories of sitting in some room in some church somewhere on Long Island (I had to have been like, 7, so I was little) and just watching these incredibly jacked guys do things like smash bricks with their hands and bend frying pans in half and literally blow up a hot water bottle until it burst, all while saying things like “IT’S THE POWER OF GOD THAT LETS US DO THIS” and that was their whole jam, that we were supposed to believe they could only do these superhuman acts because of God specifically enabling them to do them. I don’t know what was going on in the heads of the adults who were sending kids to this thing all the while knowing it had to be a farce, and that was the point my pastor was making, there’s nothing incredible about a man being able to do an act that he is physically built enough to do, if a normal not jacked guy came up and ripped a phonebook in half (that was another thing they did, my pastor joked “if some of you don’t know what that is, we used to print the internet”) by calling on the holy spirit then that would be something you could actually attribute to God, and how when we don’t believe incredible things in our lives can happen we aren’t realizing the full power of God (or something along those lines, you know what I mean). It got me thinking a bit about growing up in the church and how many kids raised in the church (so called “second generation Christians”) end up straying from the church, and how I felt like I got a bit of a cheat sheet in that area. I remember being in some sunday school class somewhere along the line and they were like “who’s had prayer requests that they’ve had answered by God?” and all the other kids were like “well I won my baseball game!” or “when I had the flu I got better!” and I was just like “well I actually prayed a human being into existence by praying for a little sister for three years until it happened” and I just remember the teacher being like........don’t know how to follow that up lol. Anyway. Service ended and I went to the volunteer lounge for our huddle up, it was the last week with one of the family ministries leaders, so we did a whole little celebration for him which was nice. When I got up to the baby’s room I was alone at first and one of the leaders/my friend came in and was like “oh you’re definitely not supposed to be alone, there were like 3 people signed up” so I did end up getting another person. Things went pretty smoothly overall, we ended up with 6  babies at one point, but ended up having to text the parents of this one little girl who was so adorable but was just not having it, she kept reaching towards the door and yelling “mama, mama!” as she cried and I was like damn, I can’t take this lol but besides that there were no real tears, everyone did pretty well together. There was a super adorable little boy who I’m pretty sure already turned 2 but if they want to keep him with the babies that’s fine with me, he wasn’t really engaging at first but after several attempts he got into it and was having fun. And there was this super cute little 11 month old girl who is the spitting image of her dad, her dad is definitely mixed race and it looks like her mother might be as well (I’m just speculating obviously) but the baby has that like, super adorable darker skin lighter hair and eyes thing going on and gosh, she’s just so damn cute lol. She’s still at the stage where she can’t fully stand up on her own, but will try to find anything she can grab onto to help pull herself  up, which can be problematic when she’s grabbing on like, the dirty diaper disposal haha but nothing too bad. There was a 7 month old little girl, and another one who was 19 months, both of whom were pretty calm, and there was the daughter of the couple who recently started heading up family ministries and she’s just the cutest little thing, she’s just got the whole chubby baby thing going on and she gives the best hugs and is so cute. So that went pretty well. After it ended I went back to the blue line train, but then switched over to the red line because I was going to meet Jess at the tattoo place to go with her to get her tattoo, so I did that and then walked down to the place, it was right across the street from the Target I generally go to so I knew where it was. They had  bit of a wait so we ended up sitting and talking for a while, which was good because we hadn’t seen each other in like a month so we had a lot of catching up to do. Then her name got called so she was talking with the guy about what she wanted done, and I chatted for a few minutes with another guy about the tattoo situation on me wrist (being that I got a white ink tattoo on it in January 2014 and then in July 2016 broke my wrist and ended up with a giant surgery scar right through my tattoo) and they basically said white ink tattoos are super hard to touch up because of the way the ink reacts to your body and it probably would not come out looking very good, so it'd probably be better to let it fade (they’re supposed to fade out it like 10 years, which I was aware of when I got it because it was another way I could be like “well if I decided I don’t want it anymore I can just let it fade and it’ll be gone” to my parents about it) and then maybe try something else in a different location, so I’m going to think about it, another option would be to get another tattoo on top of the old one, but I feel like that would be difficult to do without adding some color, and the whole point of it being white ink was to not draw attention to it because lawyer and I’m already kind of toeing the line of professionalism with my bright red hair and multiple ear piercings. so we’ll see, I’ll think about it, maybe in a few years when I’m somewhat established in the legal world. But yeah, they printed up Jess’ thing and made a stencil, and we came back and did the tattoo, during which we talked about Divergent and I was explaining my theory on how the hogwarts houses transfer into the Divergent factions (Amity and Abnegation are both just Hufflepuff, Dauntless is half gryffindor half slytherin, candor is half gryffindor half ravenclaw, and erudite is half ravenclaw half slytherin) (clearly I’ve put a lot of thought into this) as she squeezed my hand and was super brave through the whole thing (I know she doesn’t read these but I hope she knows I’m super proud of her for dealing with a whole lot of shit and making it out the other side still being an awesome human being). So once they finished up we ran over to the Target to get tattoo aftercare supplies, namely Aquaphor (which is apparently like bacitracin, I recognized the name but didn’t know what it actually was) and Dial hand soap, while I needed to pick up some make up removing wipes, and ended up grabbing a really cute pair of shorts because they were really cute and were my size and not made out of polyester and ended up being on sale, so, they were clearly a reasonable purchase. Checked out, I got a sour watermelon icee that I had been wanting to try (I got a super small one and I still couldn’t finish the whole thing without it burning my mouth, lol) and Jess got a passion tea/lemonade from the starbucks. So we then walked over to where she parked, and drove over to my place where she dropped me off and then went to lay in bed for the rest of the night because the seatbelt was like, apparently right on top of where the tattoo was and it was super painful so that sounded like a good plan. I got to my apartment and decided I wanted to make the parmesan noodle soup I made like a week or so ago for dinner which I realize contains like 800 calories in pasta but I don’t really care because it’s really good. So I did that, then waited for the Brooklyn 99 season finale to come on. Can I just say, I’m so proud of this show. I binged seasons one and two in preparation for season three because it was announced that Archie Panjabi was going to be on an episode and I was still hardcore on my Archie Panjabi kick at that point, especially for supporting work she did after she left TGW after being treated so poorly. But I ended up really liking the show so I kept watching, and like, suddenly it was everywhere and everyone was watching it and it was just this super awesome show everybody loved and it made me so happy. Obviously the season finale is a big deal, they really should’ve made it an hour special, but they did just fine in their half hour slot fitting in all the craziness that had to accompany a Jake/Amy wedding. So that made me happy. Once that was over I switched over to Netflix, and finished the episode of the great british baking show masterclass (the masterclass is basically just the two judges making their super awesome versions of what the contestants on the actual show had to make and it’s nuts but also super calming to watch. Once that was over I decided to start episode two of 13 Reasons Why’s second season, I figured I’d intercut watching it with british people baking as to not get too depressed about it. There was definitely a tonal shift in the show from last season to now, partially just because people are constantly dropping f-bombs which very much did not happen last season, and just generally being racier with things. I still have a lot of mixed feelings about the show, and I’m not terribly sure it’s something I want to endorse, but I at least want to watch it so I can make an informed decision on it. And again, I do feel some loyalty to it from having read the book all those years ago. The tone its take is definitely strange, though. The courtroom scenes continue to bother me because again, the defense’s entire case is bullshit inadmissible under rule of evidence 404 character evidence and is basically a victim blaming nightmare and has obviously been super traumatizing for all of the kids who they’ve had testify so far. The whole Jessica/Bryce situation is clearly incredibly volatile, and I very much hope it ends in Bryce having to face up to his crimes. The Alex storyline is interesting, it was an intriguing choice to go with a memory loss plot from his suicide attempt at the end of last season, so I’m interested to see how that’s going to play out. As far as Clay and Hannah and Skye are concerned, very much mixed feelings as well. Clay is of course clearly suffering from trauma and likely needs a mental health intervention, and not just because he’s quite literally seeing ghosts. Something about how they wrote Skye in this last episode kind of got under my skin, just that they’re going for the whole ~insecure artsy girl~ thing and I realize that’s most likely because I recognize the similarities of her with my own life and though I’m doing much better overall I do definitely still hate parts of me and that’s very much one of them. But yeah, it was a lot, so after that I watched two british baking episodes before starting to get ready for bed. It’s just past 1:30 am and I don’t have to be up for anything tomorrow, but I don’t want to waste the entire day sleeping in, so I’m going to call it a night here. Goodnight loves. Hope you have a kickass Monday.

[hunterbahamut]

Part 1 - Part 2 -  Part 3

Here is Part 4 to ‘Back In Action’!

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, will the team survive their first mission back?

Hope you enjoy!

----

The tension was thick as the team moved down the hall, each one watching and listening for any sign of the three after them, nearly jumping at every creak and bang that echoed through the halls.

Phineas cursed quietly as he pointed his arm cannon down around every corner. "This would be a little better if we had some idea of where we were going or where we could get out."

"It's not that easy to figure out."  Tero said, sounding more annoyed that concerned.  "The information you downloaded isn't exactly complete, and the interference is making it harder to fill in the blanks."  Tero looked over the base schematics as he tried to keep a track of them.  "What I can tell you is that the power readings are steadily increasing the further you go in."

"Which means we could be walking right into the lion's den." Zech said, gulping nervously.

"Yeah, but if we find the evil lab, we might also be able to find something that will help us stop them." Sparks said, still sounding rather optimistic.  

"I hope you're right..." Phineas said, not so optimistically.

The twisted hallway echoed menacingly with creaking metal and the occasional banging, making it difficult to tell if something was stalking the team or not.  Eventually, they could see some light down the hall, though it did little to help ease their worries.  The four approached with caution, stepping to either side of the door way before went in, weapons drawn and looking out for anything.

The room they entered was as they had feared, maybe even a little worse.  It looked like a combination of a laboratory and a factory: there were many tables with both broken and working computers sitting on them, vials and beakers filled with unknown chemicals and liquids of varying colors and storage bags with similar liquids or even blood. There was an operating table that was coated in grime with hanging mechanical arms arms above it, each with various tools pointing right at it. A massive collection of mechanical parts and limbs were strewn all around and specimen jars of varying sizes, most were empty but many were some storing something inside.  At the back of the room were what seemed to be several pods or tanks, though there was only one that was closed.

"And I thought Tero's lab was bad..."  Zech said, unable to hide the trembling in his voice.

A dark, partially synthesized voice suddenly spoke up, echoing in the room.  "Ah, so you've finally made it." 

The team jumped and searched around the room, poised and aiming weapons, until the Gorm himself made an appearance, his intense, glowing eyes peering out from block sockets at them.  "Team Prototype."

"Doctor Viktor, I presume." Sparks said they had an intense stare down.

"I do not see 02 with you." He said, speaking in a very cold and sterile tone. "Though he is still on that ship of yours, yes?"  He seemed to grin, which only seemed the more terrifying with the metal on his face. "I vill get to see him soon enough.  In the meantime, I am pleased to have you here, you are all quite the specimen!"

"You're experiments stop here and now!" Sparks shouted, "You're gonna pay for what you did to them!"

"Vhat I have done was improve them!"  The Gorm actually sounded triumphant in that.  "I am bringing forth glorious evolution!  Ve are already on the brink of it, I am merely ushering it in despite of those who vould stop me."

"If this is your idea, the count me out!" Zech twitched his ears as he looked around nervously, "We're being stalled, guys..."

"It has already begun!"  Viktor laughed and he moved over to one of the pods. Before anyone could act, there was a loud crashing behind them.  They turned to see that the three others arriving and blocking off their exit.  They didn't attack just yet, just stood there, watching.

Viktor opened the pod and a rush of smoke and steam came pouring out before a smaller form emerged. It was the the Aqualine, the last one of the missing team, her body also heavily altered like the others.  Massive pieces of tech were on her arms with massive tubes jutting out of them and to some kind of pack on her back.  Part of her face was covered and one eye and her center eye was replaced with a large scanner multi-lens scanner.

"I offer you a chance to join villingly," Viktor said with a smirk, "but you ultimately don't have a choice in the matter.  You will submit to my designs."

"Yeah, thanks but no thanks." Phineas said, starting to charge up his cannon.

Viktor simply laughed before he spoke them. "Deal with these inferior constructs."

The four augments seemed to jerk as if they were coming back to life, all eyes on the team. The first to move was the Aqualine and she raised her arms up and then sent out a blast of ice out, shards flying out towards the team.  They all had to move out of the way as the heavy shards slammed into the metal flooring and computers around them. This separated the team so the other three moved in to attack them one at a time, the Narth headed for Nix, the Razorwing for Sparks and the Needlix for Phin, each one forcing the others into different areas of the lab.  

Zech was scared, he saw the others get attacked by each of the others; which was bad considering that they couldn't do much t them when it was two against one, but then there was the Aqualine who seemed to be acting as artillery.  He jumped up and tried to get close to her, but she was already starting to attack, sending out shots and waves of ice at the others.  "Guys!  Look out!"  He had to try and help out and he fired off his own blasts to shatter the ice, jumping around to try and cover the others.

Nix was doing well with dodging the attacks from the Narth, moving smoothly and avoiding any of his grabs or slashes, but that was all she was able to do for now.  The Narth was fast and relentless, his claws dinging into metal and pulling hunks out to try and throw at her.   Nix's feathers changed color and she was already bringing out the fire, swinging her arms out to fire off slashes at the incoming metal projectiles and smashing them apart as she moved in. It didn't take her long though to go on the offensive now.

Sparks was having a difficult time with the Razorwing; even though he wasn't launching his mace ball out as much, he was still making him dodge around as he charged for him, slamming his feet and mace are down.  Sparks fired off several blasts at him, but they didn't seem to phase him at all, just smacking against his body with barely a flinch.  "Daaaaammit..." Sparks said, ducking behind the table as he tried to think. "I -really- don't want to hurt you too much, buddy!" 

Phineas was having the worst of it though. The Needlix charged at him, forcing him to dodge around as best as he could, but he was starting to show his tiredness with some of the sloppy movements and bad aim.  When she made another pass, he tried to take several shots at her, but most only ended up hitting the walls or some of the surrounding environment.  "Son...of a... HOLD STILL DAMMIT!"  He wasn't pulling his punches like some of the others, but even when he did manage to connect a shot, it just deflected off of the crude armor.

The fight was not in the teams favor, each one was barley having any effect against their opponents, and the Aqualine was making things all the much harder.  She kept sends out blasts of ice and freezing blasts.  Zech was doing his best running interference; jumping around to try and blast the ice shards out, or bringing up an energy barrier to block against the attacks, but it was starting to wear him down now as well.

Tero suddenly spoke up on his comms. "I need a computer access."

"What?!"  Zech asked, panting a bit as he fired off a blast at the Aqualine, ice spray flying out over everything. "Tero, I really can't-!"

"I have a way to stop them." He finally said, sounding more irritated. "If you want to get out if this mess in one piece, you will need to find a computer and link to it.  Now."

Zech let out a grumble, but they needed something to change and fast.  He ducked down behind a desk and frantically looked around.  So many of the computers here looked wrecked, or were being wrecked in the battle, but he finally did spot one.  He gulped, afraid of leaving the others like this, but he got up and made a dash for it.  He jumped and teleported, pulling out his computer and hooked it in. "Okay!  Here!"

Tero was silent for a moment before he sounded satisfied. "This will do.  Stand-by."

Zech twitched nervously and he looked back, "I hope you make his fast, I don't know if-"

The Aqualine was keeping up her attacks despite all of this and she ended up launching a blast of freezing ice out.  This time, Zech wasn't close enough to provide support, so it basted out and struck Phineas while his back was turned. He let out a painful yell as his back was covered in frost. He lurched forward and jerked, but his legs were now frozen to the floor. "DAMMIT!  MY LEGS!"  He twisted and turned, trying to break free while the Needlix was starting to rev up, turning around towards him.

The cry caught the attention of the others, but that only opened themselves up now as well.   Nix turned to try and find Phin, but the Narth's mechanical arms shot out and grabbed hold of her, yanking her up off the ground as he rose his other arms up, baring his claws. Sparks had done the same, turning around just as the Razorwing launched his mace towards him.  Sparks was able react and ducked behind a table, but the mace crashed into it and him, sending him against the wall and pinned up against it.

Zech froze as he gasped. "GUYS!"  He quickly sprung forward, running over to Phineas, pulling his arm back and firing off a larger blast at the Needlix.  She was ready to deflect the blast, but the shot was aimed low, so it crashed against both the ground and her legs, causing the metal deck underneath to blow and knocking her over.  There was a loud crunching and squealing of metal and gears as she scrambled to get back up, the wheeled getting stuck and jammed in the twisted metal.

It was time to go on the offensive, and Nix was more than ready to take the gloves off, so to speak, exposing her metal talons.  She kicked and slashed, the sharp talons finding purchase in the Narth's mechanical arms and managing to sever one of them, which dropped her back down. She didn't let up, as soon as she was on her feet, she moved forward.  The Narth didn't seem t be affected by the loss of his limbs, but his effectiveness was limited.  She sent several more kicked into his torso, knocking him backwards before she slashed at his legs, digging into them and causing enough damage to knock him down to the ground.

The Razorwing started to stomp closer to the pinned Sparks, his laser eye dropping down and focusing on him.  Sparks gulped as he looked up.  "Okay...I really didn't want to do this...!"  He wiggled around and he managed to get a hand free, throwing it out and firing off a blast of electricity into the Razorwing.  The bast struck him with enough power that he started to shake and convulse.  The energy tether deactivated, letting the ball drop, freeing Sparks from the wall and he stumbled as he got to his feet.  "You guys...take a lot..."

"Good, good!"  Viktor laughed as he stood back and watched the whole fight.  "It is better than I vould have hoped!  Vhile these ones vere not fighters, it shows how much stronger they are against ones such as you!  Imagine how much more powerful you vill be once you relinquish the flesh!  Steel will fix all of your flaws!"

"Someone -please- shut him up!" Phin said through clenched teeth.

Viktor raised his arms up. "Now seize them, my constructs! Let us bring them in to our fold!"

The team thought they had the upper hand but, to their shock, the three they had just taken out seemed to jerk and climb back up to their fight, each one damaged and struggling, but still back up.

"Geez, how much more are they gonna take?" Sparks asked, stepping back.

"I don't think we have a choice anymore." Nix said, poised and ready to strike.  "We're going to need to take them out completely!"

That's when Tero spoke up. "There.  That should do it."

The four augments suddenly seemed to stop, almost like they were deactivated, slumping a bit and just standing there for a moment.

"What the...?"  Zech asked, watching as they seemed to move again. This time though, their movements seemed strained rather than mechanical.  They watched them and, for the first time, there seemed to be some signs of life in their faces.

This caught Viktor's attention. "Vhat?  Vhat is this?" The only reply anyone got was a terrified, blood-curdling scream coming from the Aqualine.  Suddenly there was a massive blast of cold, striking the Gorm from behind and coating him in ice, knocking him down to his knees.

"What the hell?!"  Zech gasped out, watching as the augments all seemed to move, but instead of advancing on them, they were moving towards Viktor.

"I located and disabled the doctor's programming." Tero explained, "Their enhancements and programming are based on my own, so I was able to find what was controlling them and deactivate it.  I suppose the doctor will see just how grand his creations are now."

The team actually feared the worst for the others and they all stepped closer as the four all seemed to surround the fallen Gorm.  “Whoa, hold up!” Spark shouted out to them and he and the others moved closer. Thankfully, they didn't seem to do anything more than just incapacitate him; Viktor laid on the floor, some parts of his own robotic body was torn off, leaving him ragged but he was alive.

"Geez..."  Sparks said as they looked at the scene, but then he and the others realized that they were being watched.  The four augments all looked at the team, their looks sending chills through them: concern, confusion, worry, terror...

Sparks took in a breath before he spoke up next. "Don't worry guys, we're here to get you out and back home."

[theplaguedoctorsvision]

The Plague Doctor’s Vision: Chapter One

The plague had been going on for two years at this point, corpses rising from their resting places to walk the Earth as if they owned it giving no regard to the living as anything other than food. Evangelists called it the end of the world as we know it, God was angry and he was finally doing something about our sins. Right. Nobody was really sure how it started, at the beginning there were a lot of rumors that it was an experimental drug gone wrong but that didn't explain how people who had never come in contact with the drug were turning moments after death or how a bite could spread the infection. Fast forward a couple years and of course everything had gone to shit, civilization as we knew it had crumbled and cracked under the pressure like an egg cracked on the side of a frying pan, except in this case humanity was the egg and boy were we cooking.

     I could remember it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday, though in truth it had been a little more than a year ago. At the time, I was alone, I had no group to protect me, no camp to call home though I often passed by several large compounds on relatively friendly terms. They didn't try to kill me on sight anymore, at least. Progress, right? My supplies were running low and I had nothing to trade so I had gone out into the forest away from any large camps to hunt and I'll admit it maybe rob some poor bloke. Sue me, it's the apocalypse and I was rather fond of living.

     The ruse was simple. I'd find my victim and tail them for a bit (ya'know to make sure they were actually alive) then settle in a spot not far from their path and begin crying out for help, feigning injury. When they got close enough to check out the injury, I struck. It wasn't hard getting the victims close, not many people would suspect I was trying to rob them. Okay, not many smart people, but panic makes people stupid.

     It wasn't even hard for me, if I'm being honest; people never suspect the damsel in distress to turn on you. And it wasn't like I looked like a criminal either. Five foot five, black hair with the slightest hint of curl to it trailing to just below my shoulder blades and the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen, coupled with the fact that I was a bit on the heavier side with a plump stomach.

     This hit was going down in a large forest, full of hundreds of trees with trunks thicker than me. It was late spring so the air was warm and the forest itself was alive with bright greens and fresh leaves, unaware of the war that had been going on around it. The entire forest was around fifteen miles edge to edge squeezed between the Eagletalon's main compound up north and the Badger's Den compound south. Length wise.. I couldn't even begin to imagine how long it went on, I knew that on foot it was roughly a two week journey from edge to edge. It's immense size and considerable amount of foliage made it perfect for hunters, not only of both compounds but strangers who came seeking food. There were animals galore; bears and deer, birds, occasionally wolves. Animals meant there were also plenty of edible plants, though I wasn't dumb enough to go sticking random leaves and berries in my mouth without knowing what they were. 

     I'd been trailing my particular target for about fifteen minutes and they had yet to notice me. They were.. strange. It was excruciating trying to get close enough to see them clearly but when I did I saw they were wearing a black dress shirt with long sleeves tucked into nice black pants, fitted leather gloves and of course black combat boots to finish off the apocalypse goth look (it was all the rage, even I couldn't resist dressing up in darker colors, though that was my style before zombies ruled the world to be fair.) That wasn't the strangest part of them though. Oh no, because we had to keep the apocalypse interesting, right? Keep it from getting stale? This fucker was wearing an honest to Gods plague doctor mask. Curved beak, made of tough black leather and some sort of hood beneath that completely covered their head making it impossible to tell anything about them. The only other detail I could get from my vantage point was that their clothes were shockingly clean, either they washed them religiously or they didn't fight much and that made them a good target. 

     I sat down up against a thick tree, placing a large hunting knife on the ground and my backpack over it to hide it. The "wound" was on my stomach, nothing more than a hole in my shirt covered in mud and animal blood. With no wound to account for, it wouldn't fool anyone up close but it was enough to get them to come to me. A quick douse of my face and shirt from my water bottle gave the appearance I had been sweating and then it was time to begin.

     "Hello? Is anybody there? I need help!" I called out, letting imagined fear seep into my voice so that my words wavered and cracked, then got comfortable before calling out again. "Please! I'm injured!" It wasn't long before I heard the snap of a twig to my right, my hand moving to the knife just in case it was a Z, or worse. I had yet to see one but I had heard rumors that animals could get infected too and it wasn't a fun thought. I was lucky though, it was just the person in the mask and as expected they kept their distance at first.

"Miss? What happened?" They said, voice muffled by the mask. Up close, I could make out that they were a male.. as if the deep masculine voice hadn't already given that away. I looked up to him, tears rolling down my cheeks. In my gut though, I felt something wasn't quite right.

     "Oh thank the gods, I'm so scared! I got hurt and I thought.. I thought.." I let my words trail off into a fresh round of sobs, lowering my head towards my chest. I could hear him move cautiously closer until he was right by my side, kneeling down beside me on the balls of his feet.

     "Let me see your injury Miss, I might be able to help." He reached a hand out toward me and I took that time to strike, reaching out with both hands and shoving him hard. He fell backward with a grunt, landing on his back. I grabbed my knife from beneath my bag and climbed on top of him so that my thighs were straddling his abs, my knife moving to press to his throat.

     "I want your supplies, not your life. Please don't make me take both." I said in a low growl. For a moment, he was utterly still and then too fast for me to comprehend he grabbed my hand and jerked it back towards me, then away using the momentum to unbalance me enough that he was able to roll over, pinning me beneath him with his body, his hand on my wrist to keep my knife still.

     "Sly, little miss, but not enough." He hissed. I tugged at my restrained arm, my free hand coming up to grab his mask and yank it off his head. I must have surprised him, because while his grip remained tight on my wrist I was able to easily yank the mask off his head. Using the hard reinforced leather like a club I smashed it into the back of his head and knocked him off and finally he let go. I quickly scrambled to my feet, crouching to face him with my knife at the ready. That was when I fucked up however, as I stopped to look him over. He had steel blue eyes, though narrowed in pain they were absolutely stunning. His hair was the color of gold, shoulder length and mostly straight. He had the lightest spattering of freckles over his cheeks. What really got me through was the scar; it cut from his left temple down to his chin, thick and knotted as if it had never been properly stitched. It likely hadn't. He was starting to get back up though and he was laughing, as if he somehow found my attempt to rob him cute. He stood and I stayed defensive, watching him wearily. Clearly he was stronger than I had given him credit for, so it wasn't likely I could simply out brute him. I was going over my options in my head, which were few, when he did the strangest thing. He offered me his gloved hand and smiled.

     I looked at him like he was insane. He probably was, come to think of it. He just kept smiling at me. 

     "Who in the fuck are you?" I said. He lowered his hand, moving them to his hips instead.

     "I am a friend of Michael." He replied, shrugging his shoulders. "You look.. exactly like him." I rolled my eyes and spread my arms to either side of me.

     "Yeah, that's kind of what 'twin' means." I snorted and grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, taking a compass from my pocket to check my direction before heading towards the Badger's Den. This one was a loss, anything that had to do with my brother only meant trouble and I wasn't sticking around for that. I heard the stranger move then jog lightly to catch up to me. 

     "Michael sent me to get you, he says something bad is going on." Said the man, deadly calm. I stopped, turning my head to look up at him. Dude stood at least a half foot taller than me. I narrowed my eyes, cocking a hip to the side as I moved my hands to them. 

     “Have you looked at the world lately? I mean, fuck, you wear a plague doctor mask. Why else if not because of the plague going on?” I raised a brow, then turned away without letting him reply. I swear man, the entire world was ‘something bad’. The fuck did he expect? 

     “Listen, Michael asked me to protect you. He wants me to take you to the Crow’s Nest, he thinks you will be safe there.” He reached out and grabbed my arm. His grip wasn’t hard, it didn’t hurt but it was firm and told me I wasn’t going anywhere until he let go so I sighed and turned to face him once more.

     ”I don’t need protection, thanks. I’ve been surviving on my own just fine for the last almost two years.”

     “But you did, at one point, have protection?” He looks me directly in the eyes and a feeling of unease rolls through me, every bit of my common sense screaming at me to run. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy I wanted to mess with, orders to protect me or not. 

     “Fine. What does he think is going to happen and can we, I don’t know, walk and talk? It’s gunna be dark soon and I don’t want to be out in the open like this when the mega-Zs come out.” He nods his head and releases me, looking around as he slides his mask back in place over his features. I found myself fascinated by it, if I’m being honest. I mean shit, who said the apocalypse couldn’t be fun? 

     “Your brother said the Eagletalons are planning to start a war with the Badger’s Den, something about being tired of sharing the forest we are standing in, wanting to expand their land. He thinks if you stay here, you will be in danger.”

     “Danger? Because some thugs are going to try to start another war with a camp much bigger than theirs?”

     “This is different, they have new tricks and Michael does not trust it. He says he has a bad feeling in his gut.” I snorted in disgust, not slowing my pace. The sun was getting low in the sky and the camp was still a mile away.

     Of course, that was when Fate decided things needed to go wrong. I smelt it before I saw it, the scent of rotting meat filling the air. The man stopped when I did, reaching into his pocket to pull out.. A butterfly knife? Are you fucking kidding me? Didn’t anyone ever tell him bigger is better? I drew my hunting knife, readying myself as a behemoth of a zombie began shambling towards us. The thing must have been at least seven feet tall, and I groaned. He was what I had dubbed a ‘mega-z’, named because whatever the fuck was making corpses rise sometimes also made them grow and not in a good way. Taller than a human with skin pulled gaunt, bones showing through their skin and even poking out through the rotting flesh in spots. These bastards were known for being big, fast and insatiable with hands like claws. I heard the man gasp in excitement.

     “A wendigo! I’ve never gotten to see one before!” He exclaimed, flipping the butterfly knife expertly around his hand. I blinked.

     “You’re excited about this!?” I never took my eyes off the mega- fuck it, Wendigo. It was approaching slowly, ever the hunter. It’s eyes darted between us, from my knife to his knife. Clearly, I was the bigger threat even in it’s eyes so it decided to go for the wiry man beside me. The man and I moved in unison, jumping to the side of the Z as it leapt at us. Where I had fallen flat, knocking the wind partially out of myself, the man had managed to roll and come up on his feet, slashing his smaller knife at the creature, taking an ear with it.

     “Great job, now it can only partially hear us screaming when it kills us!” I gave him a sarcastic thumbs up and for my trouble caught a backhand from the creature as it swung it’s arms in rage, letting out a soft hiss through stretched lips. I laid on the ground for a moment, winded for the second time in a few minutes. The creature turned to me and stalked on all fours towards me like an animal until it stood above me, raising one claw like hand to strike at me. I tightened my grip on my knife and plunged it upward into the creature’s ribs. It didn’t kill it, but it was enough to distract it as I crab-walked backwards out from under it, leaving my knife in it’s flesh. The man used the distraction to jump forward onto it’s back and stab his knife into the base of it’s skull, ending it. Both the Wendigo and the man fell to the ground with a thud as the light faded from it’s cataract-covered eyes.

     “Fuck me, that was close.” I panted, sitting where I was for a moment. Lot of good I had done defending myself, and if I had been alone.. I might have been dead. The man stood up, dusting himself off. Aside from an assorted number of scrapes and scratches, he seemed to be just fine. 

     “You are welcome.” He said, then offered his hand out to me. This time I took it and let him pull me to my feet. I grabbed my knife from the corpse and sheathed it, looking to him.

     “You ready to run?” I asked.

     “As ready as I will ever be.” He replied, and with that we took off. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins as we raced each other to the Badger’s Den. I couldn’t help it, I laughed, then let out a loud whoop as I pulled ahead. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad night after all.

[escapingreality1992]

Strange Impressions Ch. 6

The early morning sun peeked through the blinds of my room, the brightness making me squint my eyes tight against it and roll over, my face now pressed into the chest of my warm companion. I looked up at Stephen admiring the peaceful way he slept, his tousled hair laying on his face. I ran my hand through his hair, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek and slipped out of his grasp to prepare breakfast for two. I searched for something quick to wear, trying not to make any noise letting him sleep a little longer. I settled on grabbing Stephen’s shirt from the night before and slipped it over my head, padding quietly from the room.

           Going downstairs, I headed straight for the kitchen, turning on the lights and walking over to the fridge. I pulled out a carton of eggs, a package each of bacon and sausage, carefully balancing them on the way to the counter-space near the stove. Placing them down, I made quick work of finding some pans to cook the food in and fired up the stove-tops, placing both pans on top heating them up. Passing my hand over the pan, but not touching the bottom, the heat hit the palm of my hand allowing me to be able to crack some eggs into it and begin to fry them.

           As I put the bacon and sausage in the other pan, something or rather someone warm pressed into my back, two arms sliding around my waist, my lips turning upwards into a smile.

           “Good morning sweetheart. You look great in my shirt by the way,” Stephen’s deep voice greeted me, the low rumble vibrating in my ear, his chin resting on one of my shoulders. I flipped the eggs careful to not break the yolk in the center.

           “Thank you, my love. Are you hungry? I’ve made bacon and eggs-,” I commented cut off by Stephen turning my body to face him – he was only half naked because of the stolen shirt, having put on jeans before coming down to join me – and pressed his lips against mine. We kissed again, breaking apart and gazing deep into each other’s eyes.

           “Yes, if you must know. I’m very hungry for more than one thing,” he told me, cupping my face. I pressed my cheek into his palm, my hand not holding the spatula, taking his hand and kissing the center of the palm.

           “Breakfast first, then we’ll see about feeding your other hunger later,” I said, winking at him before turning back to the food, finishing up and plating the eggs and meat, handing one to Stephen and directing him to the dining table. I put my plate down and went to grab a couple of mugs, pouring us some coffee; Stephen wanted his black and I put a little bit of creamer in mine, cutting the bitter taste of the rich liquid and returned to the table.

           “I thought it might be a good idea to venture out to Central Park today. Maybe even get some ice cream and walk around, talk some. But first, I should stop by the Sanctum and grab some fresh clothes if I’m going to be spending the next few nights here,” Stephen told me, holding my hand and rubbing the back of hand with his thumb.

           “Sounds like a good idea. Though I’m not entirely ready to give your shirt back,” I teased, popping the last bite of my egg in my mouth, a playful smile on my lips.

           “Guess I’m going to have to convince you to give it back then,”

           “Oh really? How are you planning on doing that exactly?”

           “Let’s clean this up and I’ll show you,”

           Cleaning up the dishes, we raced back to my room, Stephen pushing me against the bed, climbing on top of me. My hands slid around his back, the muscles rippling against my fingertips as he lowered himself down, our bodies pressed close.

           He kissed me slow, yet hungry with passion, his tongue slipping past my lips’ barrier, tangling with my own. His hands slid under the hem of the shirt, pushing it up my waist, my hands moving to grab his wrists and pulling them away. Rolling him over, I leaned down to kiss him, pinning his hands above his head while we made out, releasing them to brush my hands down his chest.

           Again his hands returned to lift off his shirt from my body, sitting up to remove it completely, my breasts rubbing against his chest.

           “My, my doctor. I think you have thoroughly convinced me,” I stated, gasping as his thumbs grazed over my sensitive skin, my nipples hardening at his touch.

           “Great. Now, I’d like to continue kissing you if that’s alright?”

           I nodded as our lips locked once more, him pulling me down on top of him, his hands rubbing my back, my hands snaking in his already tousled hair. We made out for a while, our lips swollen once we finally broke apart, stopping our actions before we got too carried away.

           “Let’s get dressed and head out. Do you feel like doing a movie night later?” he stated, picking me up from the bed and carrying me over to my wardrobe.

           “Count me in,” I answered, giving his a final kiss, unwinding my legs from his waist as he set me down. I picked out a light blue tank top, and white denim shorts, brown sandals to match and he changed back into his outfit from last night; we went through a portal to the Sanctum to grab some clothes for Stephen. He changed into a dark green t-shirt and black jeans and tennis shoes, stuffing the other clothes in a duffel bag.

           Leaving the Sanctum, we stopped by a ice cream parlor and got us a couple of vanilla cones, heading to Central Park to walk around and talk for a few hours or at least until lunch time.

           “Enjoying your ice cream?” he asked me, taking a bite of his own.

           “Yes, most definitely. Oh, hey Stephen. I think you’ve got a little bit on your face,” I commented, a trick up my sleeve.

           “What? Where?”

           “Right…here!” I stated, swiping some on his nose with my cone.

           “You didn’t just do that. If you had, I might’ve done this,”

           He swiped some on both of my cheeks; squeals from the cold treat escaping my lips.

           “That’s it. You’ve started an ice cream war,” I said, sliding the dripping cream all over his face, laughing at his shocked expression.

           “Come here, Sophie. I’m getting you back for that,”

He tried to do the same to me but I ran, Stephen easily catching up to me, locking his arms around me; no escape from his own cone. Squeals of delight came from my mouth as he licked the ice cream from my neck and kissing my nose to get it from there as well; he kissed me, our lips sticking together from the ice cream.

           “Here, let me clean the rest off,” he told me, taking a napkin to my face doing his best to get rid of the stickiness.

           “Lean down for a minute,” I stated, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, ending with his lips; the remainder of the sticky liquid I wiped off with a napkin, kissing him again. Breaking the kiss, we threw our ruined cones in a trashcan continuing our walk through Central Park, his arm draped over my shoulders and talking about everything we could think of. We left the park an hour later to grab lunch at a pizzeria, heading back to the compound, the rest saved for dinner tonight; we started our movie night, nothing but horror movies, and cuddled on the couch.

           I switched from my head on his chest to stretching out and placing my head on his lap, one of his hands lying flat on my chest, tracing his scars absentmindedly.

           “ Can I ask you a question?” he asked, his blue eyes capturing mine.

           “Of course,”

           “Why do you do that? Trace my scars I mean? Not that I mind but I’ve just noticed you’ve done that every time we’re together and holding hands.

           “Oh, I like them, your scars. Plus, your hands have a slight cool touch to them. It’s a really nice feeling to me,” I responded, tracing his pointer finger.

           “You don’t think they’re ugly?” he asked, an insecurity revealing itself, something I hadn’t realized he had.

           “Stephen, I think they’re beautiful. They’re one of my favorite things about you other than that lovely personality of yours and those gorgeous blue eyes. I love how you hold me tight in bed and how you kiss me in such a way that leaves me wanting more. I love you…with my whole heart,” I confessed, sitting up, linking both of my hands with his.

           “Sophie…I love you too. I love everything about you, including the way you’re always excited to see me when I come over. I love the way you tease me even when you don’t know you’re even doing it. My most favorite things though is when find ways to touch me including the way you trace my hands,” he told me. He kissed me breaking our linked hands to cup my head, my arms wrapping around his neck. We kissed a few more times, Stephen sliding me down on the couch to lie on top of me, his hands slipping under my shirt.

           “Wait, I think I’d rather continue this in the shower. We both got a little sticky from our ice cream war this afternoon and I’d love to play around in there,” I commented, pushing him back up and ridding him of his shirt to get the fun started.

           “By all means, take us to the shower,” he said, desire present in his eyes. I turned off the TV and pulled him to my room and towards the bathroom, turning on the shower. Waiting on the hot water, I stripped him of his jeans and underwear, Stephen removing my clothes as well. Testing the water, I got in, tugging him in. He backed my body against the cerulean blue tiled wall, the cold surface hitting my back, our lips smashing against each other. He pressed his hands on my breasts, kneading them and pinching my nipples. His tongue slid in my mouth, those same hands traveling down to spread my legs, slipping two fingers inside my core.

           I moaned in his mouth, his pace picking up. Reaching down, I grabbed his cock, stroking him, pleasurable moans and groans slipping from his lips, our breathing turning into breathy pants. He moved his lips to my neck kissing and sucking on various spots, all sorts of pleasure shooting through me.

           “I’ve got to be…inside you now. Please tell me you have a condom in here just to be safe,” Stephen exclaimed, his pupils fully dilated with pleasure. He pulled back, allowing me to exit the shower and grab one from the vanity drawer underneath my sink and slip it onto him. He pulled me to the bench inside the shower, sitting me on his lap, effortlessly sliding inside my entrance. We both moaned loudly, not caring since there was no one around to hear us; the pleasure we felt skyrocketed inside us, hitting every nerve in our bodies. I rode him, bracing myself on his shoulders as our pace quickened, his hands grasping my hips. The climax hit him first, but he continued fucking me until I reached my orgasm, my walls clenching around him, my breath coming out shaky. I rested my head on his chest, both of us breathing hard, his arms holding me close.

            I slipped off of him, standing under the shower head as he disposed of the condom. I lathered up shampoo in my hair, my hands replaced by his, the massage he gave feeling heavenly. I rinsed it out, Stephen lathering up some body wash in his hands and rubbing it onto my skin, any excuse to keep touching me; he pulled my head back to kiss me, one finger slipping inside me once more. He stopped when he had me on the edge, having me lather him up before we got out and dried off.

           I pulled him back to the bedroom where our fun continued. I spread out on the bed, getting him to lie on top of me to continue what he had started in the shower. He kissed me, spreading my legs with his knee and positioned his body at my entrance lining up his cock to slip inside me. He broke the passionate kiss for a moment to look at me, his desire burning into my soul.

           “I want to make love to you slowly, intimately…passionately until exhaustion takes over and we end up in each other’s arms,” he told me, sheathing himself inside my body. He kissed me pumping in and out ever so slowly, our fingers linking together, my legs encasing his waist. I arched my back, my chest pressed into him, the passion increasing with each thrust, and each kiss. Hours later when the exhaustion set in after taking turns being on top and riding each other, when the sun began to rise, we were in each other’s arms, our souls bonding to become one. I gave him one last glance before drifting off knowing that Stephen was the one person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

[sawson]

Spiritale Chapter 35

1,340 words

                               Chapter 35: The Way of the Hunt

“Oh no it’s dark in here”, Chara said walking, “Ow!”

“What happened?!”

“I hit my knee on something…it’s…a chair”, Chara said feeling the object.

*Ring* *Ring*

“Hello?”

“Undyne here, I’ll get the lights for you”

Again the lights all turned on all at once, you both took a look around…a classroom?

“Not again”, you heard Undyne say from the phone.

“AAAWW YEEEAAA!!! Class is in session ya'll, time for today’s History Lesson!”, Napstabot said from the teacher desk, “Take your seat little dude”

A history show?!…Oh riiight, because the opposite of the news show is a history show. That makes sense. Napstabot is wearing a graduate’s outfit and hat on their head with a stick in their hand. The classroom only has one student deck and chair, and the there’s a marker border in the middle of the wall with Napstabot’s desk being to the right. Chara sits down scared and confused, but mostly confused.  

“Aight let’s talk about: Hunting! It’s a human thing, but that doesn’t mean we can’t learn about it”, Napstabot said moving close to the marker board, “Before technology humans had to hunt to survive, they used various amounts of traps to get their prey to either eat them or use them as trophies”, he said tapping the board with the stick as a slideshow happened on the marker board.

That’s awful, why would people want to do that! You and Chara are disturbed. Good thing the pictures are simple and less violent, probably because of the viewers.

“It’s tough to imagine, so let’s show it”, Napstabot said.

Everything except the floor, chair, and desk fell down. Chara was shocked looking around the new place.

“Guess what kid? This room is filled with traps!”, Napstabot said flying, “It could be there or there, my words might be a trap!” Well you need to find them all…OR ELSE THIS BOMB IS GONNA GO OFF IN 3 MINUTES!!!

“BUT, WHAT, HUUH??!!”, Chara seriously question looking around for the traps.

“OH! You’ll also need this”, Napstabot said putting something on their head.

“….Bunny ears?”, Chara questioned feeling their head.

“Better find those traps little creature, hop to it!”, Napstabot said flying away.

“….THIS IS SO UNFAIR!!!”, Chara shouted.

*Ring* *Ring*

“It’s okay, there’s a trap detector in the tools section of your cellphone”, Undyne said quickly, “You have to walk around the room though, good luck!”

Chara searched for that detector so quickly then looking around trying to figure out where to go.

“Chara, follow me!”, You shouted running ahead.

Chara catches up to you in heading to the bottom-left of the room, first they had the get pass the lazers.

“Check it my homies, this little guy is using their instinct to sense out what to do with the lazers!”, Napstabot said in the air, “That’s a huuge advantage little animals have!”

Without buying any mind to what he had to say, Chara show their first trap on the detector. It’s a board game already set up with pieces and cards. You walked up to it and examined it…it’s a bear trap disguised as a board game!

“Chara find something to throw onto this thing”, You advised.

Chara looked around until they saw a rock near them, they picked it up and threw it. YIKES!!! The game grew spikes then chumped the rock like a quick fly trap, jeez!

“Smart moovve!”, Napstabot said, “Clocks still ticking.

“OH SNAP, COME ON CHARA!!!”, You shouted running ahead again.

Okay the next part is the one script on the treadmill, not too far…wait where is it. Chara sees the detector going off the chart as they walked onto the treadmill. Wait what’s that soun-*GASP*

“CHARA LOOK UP!!!”

“Huh?! AAAAAAH!!!!”, CHARA SHOUTED RUNNING OUT THE WAY GAINT BOOK STAMPER!!!

You both are running on the treadmill as the stamper keeps pounding on it! AH IT’S TRYING TO REEL CHARA IN!!!

“Now would you look at that speed they’re kicking off ladies and gents!”, Napstabot said, “That’s another advantage they have, hope you can keep it up!”

Chara looks back at the large book stamper then starts running backwards on the treadmill while watching the book stamper, you quickly figured it out and started copying them. Wait…almost…there…

“GO!”, You both shouted then ran!

Phew it worked! But Chara’s not done yet, good thing the next trap is ahead. Almost out of breath, Chara walks to the launch arrow. There’s a…cake in the middle of this part, but no trap in sight. You walk around but don’t see any…wait…the ground…it’s cracked, crack in squared around the cake. Chara needs to break it.

“Chara, use the frying pan on the cracks here!”, You advise pointing to the ground.

Chara seeing what you mean then hits the ground as hard as they could, they all crumble down into a pit.

“Smart!”, Napstabot shouted, “This little guy has great quick thinking…and very little time”

OH SHOOT NO!!! NEXT TRAP, NEXT TRAP!!! WHERE’S THAT BASKETBALL?!!…Uuuh Football…under a huge rock being held up by a stick. Really?!

“Better find a way to get that football little dude!”, Napstabot told Chara, “Be careful, it’ll fall if it detects you”, he advised.

“What?!”, Chara shouted.

“Chara just kick it you don't have to grab it”

Chara shrugged it off and waited then kicked as quickly as they could before the rock smashed down, the football bounced into the center room where the last puzzle is!

“Way to think outside the box, this little guy is full of surprises!”, Napstabot said, “But what will they do in only 30 seconds!”

“WHAT 30 SECONDS??!!!”, YOU SHOUTED.

“CHARA TO THE CENTER, COME ON!!!”

OKAY WHERE’S THAT TRAP??!! The detectors going hay wire, they’re on the trap?! B-BUT WHERE IS IT??!! *CRASH* AAAAAHHHH!!! What the?!! A CAGE MADE OF WORDS??!!

“Ooooh, looks like my words was a trap after all”, Napstabot said flying down, “But uh oh, look at the time! Too bad little dude”, he said looking at the bomb then shrugging to Chara.

“THIS SO UNFAAAAAAAAIR!!!!”, Chara shouted hitting and shaking the word cage trying to get out.

Come on Undyne, you got this……

“….What the? It didn’t go off?”, Napstabot questioned looking at the bomb.

You all hear static sounds coming from the speakers somewhere in the room.

“I…I can’t let you hurt the little creature after all they went through!”, you both heard Undyne say, “B-be free little guy, be free”, she said as the cage rose up.

“Aww snap, I didn’t NOOOT see that coming! Well it goes to show that not all humans are hunters!”, Napstabot said, “That’s allll we have here and to you 24 viewers out there, stay in school!”, he said flying off.

Chara fell on the ground then took off the bunny ears and threw them to the ground, they are so tired.

“…Did you have to go through THIS too Frisk?”, Chara asked looking a you.

“Ooh yea, except I had to defuse bombs”, you said sitting down with them.

“You had to defuse BOMBS?!”

“Yup, but this one is just as bad. Maybe more worse”

*Ring* *Ring*

Oh what now?!

“HUMAN!!!”, you both heard Sans shout, “I SAW YOU ON THE HISTORY SHOW, THAT WAS AMAZING!!!”

“You…saw me?”

“Yea on TV!”

“Oooh right right”

“Great work getting through those traps human, my puzzles are surely the reason why you gotten better”

“…Yea, yea it is”, Chara lied.

You would have said the same thing, anyway they hung up when they finished and took a break in this room. They’re all out of Ki tea and milk honey tea, what’s worse is that it’s hot here. They need to get something to drink and soon. You advised calling Papyrus to bring them a bottle of water or something. Chara didn’t say anything and dialed his phone number.

“…Hello?” Papyrus said.

“Papyrus…I need a favor”  

[whatshouldieatforbreakfasttoday]

Travelling and cooking in Miss Sunshine, New Zealand and super easy crepes

The day came, we picked up Miss Sunshine, Mia got super excited that she can sit next to me in a car and… the most awesome road trip started! This tiny girl loves to travel! She gets super excited with each stop. When we see something beautiful she says “wow”. She loves sleeping in a van and eating in it as well. She tries to talk to me, so we kind of having proper conversations, even though that I cannot understand her. We were sitting covered in a blanket watching a sunset with the difference that I’ve held hot coffee and her hot milk.

It’s not a piece of cake, that’s for sure. I am the only parent around so I have to take care of all the needs, hers and mine. I also want to take pictures of everything around, but it does not seem to be a problem for Mia (ok, yesterday she refused to let me hang out with sea lions,I had literally 2 minutes). She sleeps in a car on a road and when we’re walking, she just doesn’t care about me taking pictures, so I have to accept her “do it fast or don’t do it at all” attitude. I admire her tolerance toward me. I know what I like and I want to stop in places I like for a night. So whenever we get to a free camping and I don’t like it, I’m going somewhere else. Mia is totally fine with it, as long as she gets banana or a book or she can have a nap (choose one). She helped me not to freak out when we got stuck in a middle of nowhere with no reception to call help. She was so happy and chilled, running around and singing that it helped me realised that it’s just a random situation, nothing scary or problematic.

I have no idea how we managed to create such an awesome creature with Tomasz. The other thing is that she makes me stop and really look. The few times we stopped somewhere on a road, so I can take a picture. Usually I’d take it and go to my destination point. But Mia said “no, no, no!” (seriously). She wanted to stay in a place longer, walk around and explore it. How cool is this! It made me stay longer and explore. I have a feeling that this lady is teaching me the art of slow living.

I do cook a lot in Miss Sunshine. I like cooking and I like eating good. But I also stop in small cafes located in villages or tiny towns we pass. I had the best smashed avocado with poached egg sandwich in a whole world and then Tried to recreate it in my van. I do not have much of equipment or spices, but you can create something delicious out of nothing. One day I made these creps. Mia loved them! She kind of preferred when I spread a raspberry jam over, but I enjoyed them with yogurt and fruits more. The recipe is so simple, that you can make it in a van. I had little left so in the evening I rolled some cheese and ham inside and it was our dinner :D

You will need (for 2):

1 cup four

1 cup milk

1 cup water

pinch of salt

2 eggs

3 tbsp olive oil

Mix everything in a bowl. Heat a pan over a medium heat and when it’s hot start pouring the butter. I did not have a soup spoon over here but I usually use it when I make crepes at home (1/2 big soup spoon). Fry on each side, but let it fry well on one side before you flip it, as this way you won’t tear your crepe. It should disconnect from a frying pan by itself. The first crepe is always a tricky one, so if you spoil it, don’t worry, I usually spoil it as well.

Serve with yogurt, fresh fruits and nuts.

And have a lovely day!

Enjoy, Marta

[janetoconnerfl]

New app will allow you to text the chef a question while you try one of her recipes

Hsiao-Ching Chou, author of “Chinese Soul Food” (Sasquatch Books, 2018)

This is how much Hsiao-Ching Chou believes in the recipes in her new cookbook: She’s going to let you text her if you have any problems.

“Do you have a cooking question related to ‘Chinese Soul Food’? You can text me at 206-565-0033 and I’ll be there to guide you through the recipe!” Chou recently posted on Facebook.

OK, so it’s not her personal cellphone you’ll be connected to, but still.

Banter, a Seattle startup, is using Chou as a beta tester for its new service. She’ll be the one responding to readers, through a Dashboard app.

“My intention is to provide another entry point for people,” Chou said last week. “What a great way to let people connect to me.

“I want the cookbook experience to be as friendly as possible, so that people at home can ask questions, like ‘This didn’t quite turn out. What happened?’ ”

This is the first cookbook for Chou, a former food editor at the now-defunct Seattle Post-Intelligencer (and a onetime food writer for The Denver Post in the late 1990s).

(Disclosure: Chou cooked in my kitchen while she was at The Post. I shared my homemade Polish pierogis with her, and she made potstickers — both forms of dumplings that we learned to make at our mothers’ sides in our youths. It’s an anecdote she shares in this cookbook, on page 59.)

Today, Chou is a communications consultant, runs the food blog mychinesesoulfood.com, and teaches cooking classes in the Seattle area. She is also a member of the James Beard Foundation’s Cookbook Awards committee.

“Chinese Soul Food” by Hsiao-Ching Chou (Sasquatch Books, 2018)

Chou said she decided to avoid glitzy, over-stylized food photos in “Chinese Soul Food” because it sets up the home cook to fail if their dish doesn’t look as perfect. So she had a friend, photographer Clare Barboza, come to her Seattle home and shoot photos for the cookbook there, in natural light.

“I wanted them to look real,” said Chou. “Even well-established home cooks still burn their food. It happens.”

She learned to cook from the age of 8 through 24 in her family’s Columbia, Mo., restaurant (which closed in 2003), and by her mother’s side at home. Many of the recipes in “Chinese Soul Food” were handed down from her parents.

“My mom just threw things together,” Chou said. “She didn’t have recipes written down, didn’t measure. For the recipes in this book, I had to measure everything, and test and retest. That’s what I brought to it: consistency.”

Mike Foster, Hsiao-Ching Chou and Loretta Garcia taste test cinnamon rolls during her time at The Denver Post. (Denver Post file)

Here’s what Chou wrote in a 1999 Denver Post story:

“My earliest guo tieh (dumpling) recollections are of Mom telling me, to my great disappointment, that I wasn’t old enough to help make them. … When the time was right, Mom did take me by her side and show me, step by step, how to make dumplings; it was time to pass on the tradition. Over the years, I’ve made hundreds, maybe thousands, for friends and loved ones.”

Chou’s 11-year-old daughter, Meilee, and 8-year-old son, Shen, are lucky: They get to learn from both their mom and grandmother, Ellen, who lives with the family in Seattle.

Eleven-year-old Meilee Riddle learns to make Chinese delicacies with her grandmother, Ellen Chou, in Seattle. (Clare Barboza, from “Chinese Soul Food” by Hsiao-Ching Chou)

“That’s the story I really want to tell about food. It’s not just my personal experience with Chinese food, but how do I help other people come into the fold through cooking, to be around the table. It’s a vehicle to help others get into the kitchen and experience the value of putting a simple meal on the table, and have the important conversations while you’re cooking. It’s that act that brings people together.”

And what does Ellen Chou think about her daughter’s cooking?

“My mom has said, ‘That tastes better than the way I made it,’ ” Chou said, “which is the ultimate compliment.”

Here are two of the recipes from “Chinese Soul Food.” Call Chou if you get into any trouble.

Sweet-and-Sour Spare Ribs

Sweet-and-Sour Spare Ribs, from “Chinese Soul Food” by Hsiao-Ching Chou (Sasquatch Books, 2018)

From “Chinese Soul Food” by Hsiao-Ching Chou (Sasquatch Books, 2018).

Makes 4 servings.

It really doesn’t get any easier to pull together a dish that has such a great payoff. Asian markets often keep the “sweet-and-sour” cut of pork spare ribs in stock. If you can’t find it, ask your butcher to cut a rack of ribs for you.

Ingredients

2 pounds sweet-and-sour cut pork spare ribs

7 cups water, divided

1/2 cup soy sauce

1/4 cup Chinese black vinegar or balsamic vinegar

1/4 cup rock sugar or brown sugar

1/4 cup Shaoxing wine or dry Marsala wine

4 to 6 large cloves garlic, smashed

3 stalks green onions, cut into 3-inch segments

Directions

Cut the ribs into individual riblets. To do this, look at the back of the rack of ribs, where it should be easier to see the bones. Make cuts between the bones to create riblets.

In a large Dutch oven over high heat, put the ribs and about 3 1/2 cups of the water, making sure the ribs are covered. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium low. Simmer for about 5 minutes to release some of the scum. Remove the pan from the heat and transfer the ribs to a large bowl. Rinse the pot.

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Return the pot to the stove. Add the ribs, the remaining 3 1/2 cups water, the soy sauce, vinegar, sugar, wine, garlic and onions. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce the heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 45 minutes. Check the largest piece of rib for tenderness. If it’s fork tender, increase the heat to medium high and let the sauce reduce, stirring occasionally, for about 15 minutes. As the sauce reduces, the sugars will caramelize and the sauce will be thicker and stickier. When the sauce has reduced enough that you can hear sizzling and see the bottom of the pan, remove the pan from the heat. Serve as an appetizer or with rice as part of a meal.

Simple Stir-Fried Greens from “Chinese Soul Food” by Hsiao-Ching Chou. (Sasquatch Books, 2018)

Simple Stir-Fried Greens

From “Chinese Soul Food” by Hsiao-Ching Chou (Sasquatch Books, 2018).

You can use your choice of leafy Asian greens in this recipe, such as baby bok choy, yu choy, napa cabbage or Chinese mustard greens, or other types of greens, such as kale, chard and escarole. Serve with steamed rice or congee.

Makes 4 servings.

Ingredients

3/4 pound greens, such as baby bok choy or yu choy, trimmed

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

2 medium cloves garlic, finely minced

2 tablespoons water

1 tablespoon soy sauce or 1 teaspoon kosher salt

1/2 teaspoon sesame oil

Directions

Cut the greens into bite-size pieces. Depending on the vegetable, the dimensions will vary, so use your best judgment. Set aside.

Preheat a wok over high heat until wisps of smoke rise from the surface. Add the vegetable oil and garlic and stir for about 5 seconds. Then add the greens and quickly stir-fry to mix with the garlic. The oil and heat will begin to wilt the greens. Continue to stir and toss the greens for 2 to 3 minutes. Add the water and soy sauce. Toss to combine, and stir-fry until the greens have wilted and don’t look raw, about 1 to 3 minutes more depending on the type of vegetable. Add the sesame oil and stir to combine.

from Latest Information https://www.denverpost.com/2018/02/16/hsiao-ching-chou-recipe-text/