#if you consider crumb's voice or a closer look at him a spoiler i suppose

[isogenderskitty]

(from corey lubowich's instagram)

guys i'm literally fucking crying over this there are TEARS in my EYES look at him!!!!!!!! LOOK AT MY BOY!!!!!!!

more importantly why does he literally sound like a cross between the smosh rat and the ttto baby buffalo. i was joking. i was joking. JOEY I WAS JOKING--

(anyone who's seen cindy please feel free to correct me if joey is being a goof here or something and this isn't actually crumb's voice i have no context because i have not seen it) <- answered in the replies thank u <3

[alvaar-aldaviir]

Wondrous Tails: Day Off (Replacement)

("Day Off" is a replacement for "Meeting the Parents." Because Alvaar's probably scared of that shit and frankly so am I.)

Time Frame: Post Canon (years after Shadowbringers(?)), No Spoilers

Notes: All characters are aged up. Mentioned poly relationship between my WoL and the twins, but nothing more.

  It’s been over a month since Alvaar had last been in the Rising Stones, off on yet another Grand Adventure into who knows what that would likely end with him and a team of adventurers emerging triumphant over an enemy that was threatening the world. If Alisaie hadn’t kept meeting people corroborating his stories, she would have refused to believe the amount of ancient evils the Warrior of Light seemed to keep tripping over. It was almost as if he couldn’t go a week without kicking a rock that unleashed an ancient voidkin hellbent on genocide.

Granted, in all fairness she couldn’t fault him for his absence. Her own travels of Eorzea had only recently seen her back in Mor Dhona and was likely the only reason she wasn’t vocally irritated he hadn’t invited her along. Well, that and the obvious fatigue in his voice when she’d called him via link pearl to poke fun at him proper. He would be back soon, his exhausted voice had confirmed, and he looked forward to nothing more than sleeping in late sandwiched between his lovers in their shared room and catching up on what they’d been up to over breakfast and tea. And because he would be back on what was now tomorrow, it meant she would have her hands full today.

So she rose early per her usual, but instead of treading the worn path to her practice spot on the lake, she made straight for the kitchen long before the hired staff had arrived. Pulling a recipe tin down from one of the high shelves and flipping through numerous cards in varieties of penmanship until she found one featuring her own efficient script. Reading over the whole recipe once, and then a second time she sighed and glared at the oven and then the refrigerator before rolling up her sleeves and setting to work.

    An hour later, with pastry sheets chilling in the kitchen, she made for the Aetheryte Plaza and took herself to Bentbranch Meadows before setting out South. The walk toward the Mirror was uneventful, the few monsters that wandered about freely were too docile to cause much trouble, but the weather was already comfortably warm and the skies were promising to be a beautiful day.

It was a shame her quarry would be less than agreeable it seemed, she mused as she eyed the blackberry bushes and their thorns sourly.

“... He failed to mention needing gloves for this,” she grumbled aloud before sighing and resolving to making the best of it. At least she could heal any scratches on her own she reasoned. Which was good, because over the course of the next few hours she earned herself plenty.

    “Correct me if I am mistaken Alisaie but... I thought you hated blackberries?” Alphinaud asks from the side, watching her work in the kitchen of the Rising Stones late that afternoon with confused interest.

“I do,” she replies simply, continuing to spread the dark filling over cut squares of puff pastry.

“But you’re making blackberry turnovers? When you have repeatedly said you hate baking?” he continued, no less confused.

“I am.”

“... Were you perhaps going to clarify why you’ve taken a full day to make one of your least favorite baked goods, or should I just forget all about it?”

“I’ll lose track of time if you stand around gawping and asking silly questions. I’m making them because I am so if you’re not helping, don’t you have more important work to be doing?” she snipped flatly.

Raising his hands up in a placating gesture, the Scholar opted to take his leave. Even as her twin, some things his sister did he figured he would never understand.

    “And the serving tower? You’re spoiling me,” Alvaar teased, settling himself into a seat at their usual table in the Rising Stones.

“Hardly. Consider it payment for whatever undoubtably grand tale you’ll have to tell. I could use a good mystery for how this one sprung up,” Alisaie replied, setting the three tower snack tray on the table while her brother brought the tea.

“You know every time you bring that tower out, I always secretly panic about what order it’s supposed to be eaten in,” Alvaar remarked. “Then I notice it’s loaded with sweets and I remember you picked it out and it doesn’t matter.”

“Rude,” she sniffed, accepting the teacup Alphinaud offered to her. “It’s too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. Did you expect a full spread? Maybe even rolling out a red carpet for your arrival oh Grand Hero of the Realm?”

Chuckling, Alvaar waved it off and accepted his cup of tea as well. “Of course not. Just happy to see you and give you shit for a change. Short lived as it is… Thank you Alphi. How have you been?”

Giving a quiet smile as he curled his fingers about his teacup, the Scholar inclined his head. “Busy as ever. Offering advice and mediating with the beast tribes to help smooth over relations among the factions. Assisting in logistics for rebuilding efforts and writing letters of introduction...”

“Paperwork. He’s either been holed up in the study or away putting people to sleep with his speeches since you left,” Alisaie cut in flatly.

Alphinaud stared at his twin sourly for a moment before he lifted his cup and asked politely, “Alisaie, how are Ga Bu and the kobolds of U’Ghamaro by the way? Have trade relations with Limsa Lominsa been worked out? That was where your latest adventure went to yes? Some monster trouble in the mines?”

A soft snort left her before she flashed him a smile. “Yes, yes, brother I hear you loud and clear. Forgive my impatience, you know I wouldn’t dream of downplaying the importance of your diplomatic efforts. But given I skipped breakfast I would very much like it if our guest would make his choice of snacks so I can be one turn closer to my own given these silly rules of etiquette you both harp on me about.”

Biting down his laughter, Alvaar took a slow sip of his tea as the pair swung into fond bickering. Glancing over the trays he raised a brow before picking a few pieces with interest.

“From the sounds of it between the pair of you the Warrior of Light will be out of work. Excellent. I wouldn’t mind an early retirement from saving the world every other year or so,” he remarked once their spat slowed while Alphinaud selected his fare. Biting into his first pick and chewing thoughtfully for a moment, Alvaar went abruptly still, eyes wide as if in a moment of revelation.

“Alvaar?” Alphinaud asked hesitantly, glancing at his twin who was suddenly back to sipping her tea and studying the trays with shrewd assessment.

“Hm?” Blinking at him, the Bard offered an awkward smile and patted the air in a flash of rings for reassurance. Swallowing and taking a quick drink of his tea he chuckled softly. “Sorry. Just... had a moment I suppose. This just seems familiar is all,” he murmured, studying his plate as he reminisced. “Rosa used to make blackberry turnovers for me when she came back from long journeys. To make up for her absence I suppose. She’d always ask me about my studies and then tell me about wherever she had been and what adventures she’d been up to... Gods, wherever you got these must use the same recipe. They’ve got it almost down pat.”

Blinking in surprise, Alphinaud stared at his sister pointedly while she carefully selected a fruit tart off the tray.

“Alisaie you should try one of these,” Alvaar chirped happily, licking crumbs off his fingers. “It’s almost spot on for that recipe I told you about.”

“No thanks. I can’t stand blackberries,” she returned politely. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to enjoy them yourself. Now, how did you say that whole ‘accidentally unleashed an ancient evil’ business went again?”

      A/N:

A very long time ago before my parents divorced, I remember finding out that my Mom hates Deviled Eggs. Which I found strange because I remember her making them for almost every family event and most holidays, mostly because my Dad loves them.

It seemed silly that you would learn a recipe you hate, but I’ve asked a number of women over the years if they know a recipe they can’t stand because their SO loves it and pretty unanimously got a yes.

Affection and how women show it is a weird thing. Teaching yourself to do something you hate for someone else, just because it makes them happy. I know it’s not unique to women, but it’s always stuck with me as a prime example of it anyway.

[a-little-dreamer-s-world]

Made with Love

So, this is a request from @romansanders​! This was a fun one to think about, especially since I haven’t really written much about Patton. I hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings?: Spoilers for the new video, crying, feelings of doubt

Patton let out a sigh as he set the bowl full of sugar down on the table, a piece of parchment paper spread out on a cookie sheet pan. He took a seat at the table, pulling a large large full of cookie dough closer to him.

Normally, he would have gone for chocolate chip cookies, but he figured peanut butter cookies would be better to take his mind off things for a while. Never mind the fact it was three in the morning, a time where he knew that everyone would be asleep.

Besides, a little change is always nice, right?

The sudden urge to cry welled up in him, which he had to push down. He couldn’t start crying now! He didn’t need to keep washing his hands because of some salty tears. He shook his head and let out a shaky breath, reaching his hand into the bowl to grab some dough.

He rolled the dough into a ball, dropping it into the bowl of sugar to give it a thin coating. Once he fished it back out, he placed it on the parchment paper. He reached over to grab a fork and carefully pressed it into the dough ball, repeating this in the other direction in a crisscross pattern.

As he made his slow way through the bowl of dough, he could feel the tension release in his shoulders, could feel his mind still from his thoughts, could finally start to breathe. There was something soothing in the way he rolled the dough into balls, something satisfying in pushing the fork down to flatten them out. Yeah, he was glad now that he chose this over chocolate chip.

Once the parchment paper was full, he stood with the whole cookie sheet in his hands to put in the oven. After he set a timer, he went back to his seat with another piece of parchment paper. He still had a good amount of dough left; he had decided on a double batch to take up more time.

As he finished up the last of the dough, he leaned backwards to brace himself against his seat, feeling his back pop. He rubbed his eyes with a sleeve as he was finally done with the busy work until he had to get the first batch out of the oven.

He waited at the table, yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander back to why he had started baking cookies in the first place.

He couldn’t stop worrying about his family. The fact that Logan won’t even consider the idea he had feelings, how Roman had admitted to feeling insecure, and now the state of his and Virgil’s friendship had hit a snag he hadn’t really seen coming.

He wiped his eyes again to rid them of any tears, smearing a bit of dough on his cheek. He knew things would get better; sure, they may change, but they were going to get through it and come out stronger. He’ll just... have to adjust. He would have to stop feeling so nostalgic and be the grown-up in the situation.

He realized the smell of cookies had wafted through the air, making him stand to open the oven door and check it. He couldn’t help but smile when he did. They were perfect!

He took the pan out and set it on the stove with his oven mitts on. He grabbed a plate and a spatula so when they were cool enough, he could take them off the pan and reuse it for the second batch. It occurred to him then that this was the first time he had baked in a while; before, he did it to let out his feelings after he would pent them up.

He sat back down as the second batch was put in the oven, crossing his arms on the table. He idly noticed that there was a mess, but he ignore it for now. He’ll be able to clean it up in just a minute. He just had to wait on the next batch to finish up.

Patton laid his head down as waited, his eyes growing heavy. He hadn’t slept so far in the night; every time he got stressed like this, he’d just toss and turn until the morning, where he’d get up and act like everything was okay as he made breakfast, maybe catch a nap later in the afternoon. He supposed he should figure out what he was going to make for the others.

He couldn’t finish the thought as he drifted off to sleep.

Patton woke up to the feeling of a gentle hand shaking his shoulder and the smell of something...burnt in the air. His eyes snapped open as he jerked up like he was about jump out of the chair. “The cookies!”

“No need to fret,” a sleep-heavy voice answered next to him. Patton looked wildly at Logan, a cup of coffee cradled in his hands as he gave the moral a small smile. “They’re just a little bit... well done, but are still edible.”

Patton sighed out in relief, slumping his seat as he rubbed his eyes to try and hide how sleepy he was. “M’sorry, Teach. Didn’t mean to fall asleep waiting.”

“It’s quite all right, Patton.” Logan sat down across from him, taking a sip of coffee as his gaze settled on his face, calculating and thoughtful even this early in the morning. Patton had to resist the urge to squirm as he set his sights on the table. Whatever mess that was there last night had been moved away, now waiting to be washed in the sink.

“Patton, while I do wish to know why you were up so early baking cookies,” Patton could feel himself start to tense at the possibility of getting scolded, “but I do believe you’re in desperate need of sleep, so would like for you to go to bed.”

“But... I need to make breakfast,” Patton protested as he made moves to stand up, only having Logan stand up with him.

“You don’t need to do anything right now. I can provide an adequate breakfast for everyone and you need to sleep. We’ve already discussed how important sleep is for us.” Logan’s hand had grasped his arm, giving him a hard stare. The looked softened as Patton slowly nodded, letting out a yawn.

The both looked over at the doorway when they heard the shuffling of feet, a barely-awake Roman stumbling in to greet them with a wave. Logan took his hand off Patton as he said, “Ah, Roman. Good to see you. Breakfast isn’t ready yet, so I need you to make sure Patton actually goes back to his room.”

“But Patton makes really good breakfast,” Roman whined out, which died out as soon as he registered the look Logan was giving him. He let out a small sigh and a nod as he shuffled over to take Patton’s hand. “C’mon, Padre. Let’s go.”

Patton was lead back to his room, leaning on Roman some as they went along. Roman glanced over at him as he joked, “Hey now, if you keep that up, I might have to carry you, Patton.”

“That… sounds nice,” Patton yawned out, making Roman’s amused look shift into one of concern. He guided the fatherly side into his room, settling him into bed. Patton took off his glasses and laid them down on the nightstand, pulling the covers up to his neck.

When Roman turned to leave though, he felt a tug on his sleepshirt. He looked down to see Patton had grabbed on, giving him a desperate look. “Roman, you know we love you, right?”

Roman was taken aback by what he said, blinking a few times before giving him a kind smile. “Sure, Padre. I know.” He felt the hand let go, falling to the mattress to be tucked back under the sheets as Patton drifted off to sleep.

Patton would never know, but when Roman stepped back out of the room, he hastily wiped a couple of tears from his eyes before he made his way down to the kitchen.

Patton awoke to the sound of quiet knocking, rolling over to fumble for his glasses. “Come in,” he slurred out, putting his glasses on as he sat up. He yawned as Virgil slipped in, a plate in hand.

“Hey Pat,” he greeted, sitting at the foot of the bed. He held out the plate as an offer, a few cookies left just for him.

Patton accepted the plate, taking a bite out of a cookie. It must have been from the second batch; it was crunchy and crumbs were falling all over the plate, but it was still good. He cleared his throat after a moment of shared silence. “What’s everyone been up to while I was out?”

“Well, Logan has been try to get us to keep quiet. I haven’t had a problem with it, but Roman’s been pouting ever since,” Virgil said, smiling softly as he laid back, covering the foot of the bed with his feet still on the ground with his arms crossed behind his head.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Guess I really needed the rest, huh?” Patton weakly laughed as he set the plate on his nightstand, placing his hands at his lap as he fiddled with his fingers. “Hey, ki- Virgil? Can I ask you something?”

Virgil glanced over, his eyebrow raised slightly as he searched Patton’s face. “Sure, Popstar, what is it?”

Patton couldn’t help but smile at the nickname, so many emotions welling up inside him it threatened to overwhelm him. “I...I wanted to know: Are....Are we still good?”

The anxious side could feel how nervous Patton was getting over what he was asking, regarding with a soft smile. He shifted his arm from under his head and reached over, placing a hand on Patton’s knee. “Yeah, Pat. We’re still good.”

The moral side sighed as he leaned back against his headboard, grabbing another cookie to take a bite out of it. “Were they a good batch this time?”

“Yeah, had to keep Roman from eating, like, his fifth one today,” Virgil snorted, staring up at the ceiling.

Patton giggled, feeling his emotions settle down to contentment and fondness. It was at that moment he realized something: things really did turn out okay.