#it would be so cheesy too

[hellt00th]

Dear god. I’ve been hit by an earthshattering realization. Garrus and Shepard would absolutely roleplay Archangel rescues a damsel in distress who shows him her gratitude via sex.

[phosilli]

eye of the vulture king

[luxaofhesperides]

“You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the windows to your soul’ thing was until I saw yours.” + fluff + cafe AU ; requested by @kiv1!

He’s sure Danny didn’t expect to see him every other day after he casually mentioned that he had gotten a part time job at a local cafe. However, as his friend, it is Duke’s moral duty to only get coffee from that shop while Danny is on shift, specifically to annoy him. 

Also, so he can support his friend, but being annoying takes priority.

It’s a routine now, for both of them. Danny clocks in for his shift and an hour later Duke is strolling into the cafe with his eyes locked on Danny’s. The rest of the baristas always shove Danny up to the register when they see Duke, taking over whatever order he was making. Even some of the other regulars turn their attention up to the counter, hoping for another few minutes of entertainment.

Danny sighs as he gets ready to input Duke’s order. It’s never the same one, because Duke would hate to be predictable and make things easier for Danny, but it has the side effect of making him realize that some of the expensive, seasonal drinks are really good. 

It’s a bit hard on his wallet, but it’s a price he’s willing to pay for teasing Danny. 

“Hey,” he greets cheerfully as he leans against the counter, grinning at Danny.

Danny sighs again. “What can I get you today, random customer that keeps bothering me.”

“A latte, but make it sweet somehow. And iced.”

“What size would you like?”

“Let’s go with medium today.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Duke leans closer to Danny, watching as he fights down a smile. “I just gotta say that you got gorgeous eyes. You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the window to your soul thing’ was until I saw yours.”

Danny considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “It kind of sounds like your trying to steal my soul through my eyes.”

“Why is that what your mind goes to?”

“Well. I watched Coraline last night.”

Duke stares at Danny, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “...Didn’t you say that movie gave you nightmares as a kid?”

“Yeah! And it turns out, it gives me nightmares even now!”

“And ruined my pick up line,” Duke complains playfully.

“It was too cheesy anyways,” Danny replies, putting Duke’s order into the screen. It prints a moment later, no doubt with some bizarre name since Danny refuses to actually name Duke on his orders, and then recites the price. 

He pays and watches as Danny slaps the order onto a medium sized up, then tosses it over to the barista making the drinks. He’s not actually sure what her name is since she refuses to wear a name tag, but she always gives him a wave and also a rating of how good his pick up lines are.

“Seven out of ten!” she calls out to him today, then gets started on making his drink.

“I don’t see why you don’t flirt with anyone else,” Danny says, “I’m pretty sure my coworkers like your pick up lines even more than they like me.”

“Why would I want to flirt with them? Danny, I’m literally only here to bother you.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “Yeah, trust me, I know. My good looks just keep pulling in business.”

He says it like a joke, but it’s true. Duke has noticed it. Danny’s coworkers have noticed it. His manager noticed it and now has him out on the floor every shift. If they can get him to work on the chalkboard sign outside, or wipe down the two tables out front, then they do it, because Danny is Midwestern to his core and it’s very charming in a place like Gotham. He smiles at people as they walk by, happily answers their questions when they ask him what the cafe serves, recommends food and drinks for them, is generally a bright and nice person to everyone who comes near the cafe. 

His cute looks draw people in, then his personality makes them stay. 

It’s all customer service, of course, because Duke never gets the cute, sunny Danny. He’s left with the sarcastic, rude, and funny Danny that’s been his friend since they met in junior year of high school. 

“Your eyes are really pretty, though,” Duke says, “Very blue. Sometimes green. It’s no wonder people keep falling for you!”

Danny reaches across the counter to shove Duke away, but he’s blushing, so Duke is counting it as a win. “Shut up. Now you’re just lying. My eyes are never green.”

“Yes, they are. Danny, I’ve seen them multiple times. They’re green sometimes.”

“No? My eyes have literally only ever been blue. They’re the bluest blue to ever blue. They don’t just turn green.”

They squint at each other for a long moment, trying to figure out who’s wrong and in what way. Duke’s pretty sure Danny’s wrong, since he can’t exactly see his own eyes, and Duke has spent an embarrassing amount of time just admiring how nice they are in different kinds of light. But also, they are Danny’s eyes, so he should know what color they are.

Then Danny’s coworker is setting down Duke’s drink on the pick up counter, giving Danny an excuse to get back to work.

“One medium oatmeal cookie iced latte for Cornelius Aggravating Douglas.” He holds up the drink and makes very direct eye contact with Duke, holding out the drink towards him.

“Did you really have to make the initials ‘Cad’?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough,” Duke says, making Danny crack a smile. 

“Are you heading out after this?”

Duke grabs a straw and sticks it into his latte, swirling it around some. “That was the plan, yeah. Got a few library books to pick up. Why?”

“I got approval for a half shift today, so I’m off in like ten minutes, if you wanna wait for me.”

“Hell yeah, dude! I’ll wait outside so I don’t distract you with my flirtatious winks again.”

“Get out of here,” Danny laughs. Duke lifts his drink in a quick toast, then gets out of there. He takes a seat at one of the tables out front, content to just people watch as he slowly sips his latte.  

It’s cloudy out, but not raining, which is always a plus. As much as he’d like to see the sun, these kinds of days aren’t so bad, either. The wind still carries a bit of a chill, but the spring is steadily warming things up. There are tons of people out, a constant rush of movement, but a few do catch sight of him, then look towards the cafe, their steps slowing down as they think. Most keep walking, but Duke does manage to get a few to go in just by taking a long sip of his latte to really enjoy it.

Really, he should be getting compensated for the work he’s doing to draw people in. Danny’s not the only one who can do it. 

Bruce keeps offering him money, so he doesn’t need to get paid, but maybe he can convince the other employees to talk Danny into accepting one of his pick up lines so they can go on a date one of these days. 

It’s become a bit of a joke, but the first time Duke used a cheesy pick up line on Danny, he was being absolutely serious about it. He definitely shouldn’t have used a pick up line he found from a website centered on relationship advice, but he panicked and needed some extra help. 

Instead of smoothly asking Danny out on a date, Duke froze up, blurted out the pick up line, then had to laugh it off with Danny and pretend it was a joke. 

He still wishes he was able to ask Danny out properly before, but he’s also glad that they got to spend more time as friends, getting to know each other. It’s easier to be with him now, no longer so tongue tied and flustered. 

Duke gets to fluster Danny now, which is much better. 

And maybe one day his pick up lines will work! Sooner or later Danny’s going to question why he keeps doing this, and then he’ll connect the dots and understand what Duke feels for him.

As it is, he has yet to connect shit. 

“My eyes are definitely blue,” Danny says as he walks out of the cafe, messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “I checked while I was putting my apron away.”

“You’re still on that?”

“They’re blue.”

Duke gestures for Danny to come closer. He complies and leans down, letting Duke cup his face in his hands. He checks, considers, then checks again, and says, “They are indeed blue.”

“Told you they weren’t green,” Danny says smugly, pulling back. 

“And I said they were green sometimes. Now clearly isn’t one of those times, but they do turn green!”

“I don’t think you should be allowed to say any eye-related pick up lines until you admit that you were wrong and didn’t know my eye color.”

Shaking his head, Duke stands up and pushes in his chair. “Just wait, I’ll catch it sometime and prove it to you.”

“Sure, whatever. Don’t you have library books to get?”

“Yeah, you coming with?”

“Obviously. Why else would I leave my wonderful job where I am left alone to make drinks in peace?” Danny knocks his shoulder against Duke playfully, then reaches over and steals his drink right out of his hand. He takes a sip, makes a pleased hum, and drains half of what was left in the cup. 

“Hey!” Duke moves to take it back, which is naturally the exact moment Danny takes off running, effortlessly dodging everyone else on the sidewalk. He takes off after Danny, using his powers to make sure he can move out of the way of anything or anyone who gets in his path. 

They’re past the block when Danny starts to slow down, taking another sip of Duke’s latte. 

He puts on a final burst of speed and all but tackles Danny into the mouth of an alley, reaching for his cup. “Gotcha!”

“No!” Danny wails dramatically. He takes a step back and Duke watches as his power kicks up again, showing him a vision of Danny stepping on an empty can and falling back. Except he doesn’t really fall back? His foot rolls back on the can for a second, then goes through the can and settles back onto the ground where he catches his balance. Through the entire three second fall, Danny’s eyes are a bright green, brighter than Duke’s ever seen them.

His vision fades away and he moves to catch Danny, taking the chance to watch carefully as Danny’s foot does indeed go through the can. He quickly brings his gaze up to Danny’s eyes, which are green, but not inhumanly bright like they were in his vision.

Is the green not perceptible to normal humans?

He can probably only see it due to his powers. Which means he somewhat inadvertently outed himself as a meta.

Whoops!

Might as well just bite the bullet.

“Hey, do you have powers?” 

Danny chokes, shoving Duke away as he coughs and tries to clear his throat. He looks panicked, wild-eyed, searching for an escape route. “What? No. Why would I have powers? Maybe you have powers, have you ever considered that?”

“I mean. I do have powers. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Hold up. Stop talking. You have powers?”

“And your eyes are green sometimes.”

“That’s. No, they’re not,” Danny lies. It’s a very bad lie, seeing how on edge he is, and as much as Duke hates making Danny feel like that, he did get some bad habits while training with Bruce and this is one of them: the need to keep pushing, chasing after clear answers regardless of what the cost is. 

Duke shrugs, taking a sip of his latte, down to its last few mouthfuls, acting casual. “If you say so. But my powers don’t lie, man. As much as I wish they would, sometimes.”

“...Can we not do this out here?” The defeated tone Danny speaks with makes Duke hate himself. But he needs answers now. He needs to know if Danny is like him, if he’s safe, if he needs help. He needs it more than he needs Danny to like him at all. 

“Sure. I know a few quiet places we can talk.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Danny mutters. “Did my eyes really give it away?”

“Yeah. I mean, to be fair, I also didn’t realize until literally right now, so I don’t think anyone else will figure it out just from staring into your eyes.”

“See, this is what happens when you keep flirting when you don’t mean it. Secrets get pulled out into the open and it’s bad for everyone!”

Duke lightly punches Danny’s arm, trying to lift the mood. “Hey, who said I didn’t mean it?”

“What?”

“Who said I didn’t mean it when I flirt with you?”

Danny blinks at him, confused, then says, “I mean, no one I guess. But it’s pretty obvious?”

“I only flirt with you, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Duke says, trying to ignore how his voice shakes slightly. “There’s another one of my secrets. Can we call it even now?”

“Oh!” The shock of the revelation distracts Danny from his earlier nerves. Which is great, because now Duke is the one who’s nervous. It’s worth it, though, seeing the pretty blush come to bloom on Danny’s cheeks. “So all those pick up lines—”

“Yeah.”

“And the pick up line made you realize my powers!” 

“These pick up lines are doing the most,” Duke agrees. And then he realizes, “Hey, you what this means? I was right! Your eyes are windows to your soul!”

“I’m going to hit you,” Danny says, already winding back for a solid punch. He lets Danny hit him since it’s only fair for the stress he caused; as a meta, Duke knows how important secrecy is, how the difference between life and death can be just how well his powers are hidden. 

“Are we even now?”

Danny considers him for a moment, then sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s be done with this for now, okay? Let’s go to the library.”

He refuses to entertain any conversation about powers or Duke’s feelings for him. It’s nice to spend time with Danny, but by the end, Duke is sure he can feel his heart start to crack in half. A sleepless night awaits him when he gets home, moving past his cousin’s attempts to talk to him in favor of flopping face down onto his bed.

But the next day, Danny grins at him when he walks into the cafe. He doesn’t have a new pick up line, choosing instead to act as calm and casual as possible to give Danny some space.

Also breaking routine, Danny insists on personally making Duke’s drink, writing something onto the cup before he fills it up with a floral tea. 

You’re so fine, you made me forget my pick up line, is scrawled on the side of his cup when he gets it. 

“Enjoy your drink, Cutiepie the Third,” Danny says with a shy smile.

“The Third?” Duke repeats, relief making him feel lighter than air, “Who are the first two?”

“Don’t worry about it, cutie. Get to class!”

Duke lets Danny chase him out, and holds in his laugh when he hears Danny’s coworker screech, “What was that?!”

Yeah, they’ll be fine. In the meantime, Duke needs to see if apology pick up lines are thing. Danny definitely deserves one.

[messervixen]

“The map stopped working after they all died”

Remus Lupin did not spend that much time on the map for it to just stop working.

James Potter would want it to be passed down from generation to generation of pranksters.

Sirius Black needs to keep the drama queen in himself alive.

Peter Pettigrew would not understand the reasoning.

[werebutch]

My first actual zine from the perspective of a very specific werewolf’s lambthing

[noviluniumx]

which character in obm do you think is the most yandere for mc and why?

CRACKS KNUCKLES OKAY (there will be spoilers from nightbringer so just a heads up)

In my opinion it's definitely a tie between Mammon, Leviathan and Belphegor. Mammon In the OG it's been stated that Mammom oversees all forms of greed, and we know how he is head over heels for the MC as well as possessive. (well the rest of the boys have possessive tendencies towards the mc so lol) In Nightbringer we actually see him go super possessive over the MC to the point his brothers struggled trying to get him under control. Although it's been resolved, I still wonder if he'll be able to go that crazy like that again @ the MC. He is the Avatar of Greed after all, he makes it known to everyone that the MC belongs to him only and that he was their "first." Leviathan Avatar of Envy, enough said. I do remember in the OG (whether it was in one of the pop quiz events or the main story, I'll have to dig later) he did say that the MC is his. Either way I do believe he can be the most yandere for the MC. This jealous serpent??? Obviously. The MC is his idol, his angel, his player 2. I genuinely think he can be a terrifying yandere too. Iirc apparently he was supposed to be a canon yandere but they scrapped it? Correct me if I'm wrong but that's pretty much all I can say about him for now, It's not much so sorry. u __ u Maybe I'll edit and add more later. Belphegor He's a canon yandere (mmNNFF YUMMY). In Nightbringer his yandere side is shown more in Lesson 33-14 , Where he tried to keep the MC from going back to the human world (in MC's case, back to the future) by putting a spell on them so they feel tired. He's so wants the MC is to stay and to keep for himself and it shows, not just in nightbringer but pretty much anywhere. Dude got jealous/angry in Lesson 55-18(OG) where if you choose the option "I'm worried about Lord Diavolo." Belphie responds with "sO yOu cArE mOrE aBoUt lORd dIaVoLO tHaN mE?" What a spoiled, bratty, yandere bitch baby. Also a scary yandere. Tbh I can't really choose but it's between these three. Sorry for any typos btw. Honorable mentions: Lucifer , Barbatos , Diavolo

[capricores]

pisces/virgo placements... it's about time you took care of yourself, too, ok?

you burn yourselves out allowing yourself to be pulled by so many people in all different directions. you exhaust all your resources and empty your cup - no, your entire well - to help those around you, even people you don't know. it's such a beautiful thing, and i know you genuinely love helping others, supporting people, seeing them thrive. it's such a beautiful trait! but you constantly end up neglecting yourself, right? you don't realize that you have permission to set aside time to care for you, to cater to your needs for once. you often feel like no one puts a drop in your cup, the favor is never returned - it's exhausting; you might think if you just keep giving your all it will come back; i understand. you will find the people that give the same energy back to you one day, but regardless of whether you've found those people yet, you need to learn to step aside and fill your own cup!

setting boundaries and saying no is the most important thing you will learn to do in this lifetime. it will not be easy for you, sometimes it will feel painful. but you cannot help the world if you're constantly drained and tired! you deserve to take care of yourself in the same way you do for others. be gentle to your kind soul, nourish yourself; do the things you love to do. learn to worry about others less, as hard as it is, and focus on yourself more.

[surreal-duck]

may i please request Prince Midori and Knight Yuzuru? :DD

he got a bit too into tori's manga recommendations

[yandere-daydreams]

How are you so fluffing funny and eloquent? Are you like that in person??

I'm not into half the characters you write about or answer asks about but I still read because I just love the way you write. You have such a smart mouth.

I hope writing is something you are pursuing because sincerely you got talent

thank you!!! and i very much do not speak like i write no T-T i have a kinda prominent speech impediment and a lot of social anxiety, so the words,,, they do not come easily. i'm simply so smart and funny and hot that the powers that be know i would be unstoppable if i could communicate a coherent sentence in any less than three tries. or say the word 'publicity'. it's a surprisingly common word okay.

[marionmorse]

MARIONMORSE, DROP ANOTHER HELMETPARTY SCENARIO AND MY LIFE IS YOUUURSS 🙏🙏🙏🙏

do u think... Do you think sometimes when the team has a movie night, when they watch those 60's action war movies like "Von Ryan's Express" and "Battle of the Bulge" or spaghetti westerns like "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" and "Death Rides on a Horse," Soldier pauses during or right after fight scenes or duels or whatever to obsessively overanalyze them. Like, he'll try and turn them into strategies to use on the job, takes, uhm, 'notes', (tactical doodles,) sets up nerdy models using a whiteboard map and improvised figurines, uses these examples when he does those psyche-up pre-battle speeches or during strategy meetings.

'Cause I bet he does, I bet he does that, and it completely kills the momentum of the movie to the point where the rest of the team gets disinterested and slowly leaves him behind to do their own thing.

I genuinely bet Engie wouldn't though, nah, I bet he's enough of a patient kind of gentle kind of man willing to stick through these pauses 'cause he's just that into the movie. And maybe he's just a teeny bit into Soldier's dissections of actiony chaos. Maybe gleans a bit of an understanding of Soldier's thinking that way. Admires the guy's passion about his 'research,' how thoughtfully he gathers details in an effort to help the team. Starts mixing in tapes for these sorts of movies more regularly to their movie night pool maybe subconsciously, maybe on purpose. The rest of the team doing their own movie night. losers.

[good-beanswrites]

Hear me out:

Kotoko adopted Es, and Fuuta went ballistic.

Rip Fuuta... he can never catch a break... Asdfsdf thank you for this, it was a blast thinking of all the ridiculous ways this could have played out! (One possibility I toyed with was Fuuta's competitive instincts take over, he fights her for Es, only to realize too late "*I* don't want to be responsible for a whole child WAIT") It's a similar format to the last one, with a knock-at-the-door reveal, but I still think it works 😂

“Don’t fuck with me, Es.”

“I would never.”

Lying brat. Fuuta knew they would every chance that they got. It was the reason he was so relieved that Es decided to find somewhere else to live after Milgram’s end. Fuuta had nothing left to fear from his former warden, but the others’ suggestions that Es become his new roommate still made him shudder. Three interrogations in a closed space with the rude kid were enough for him, thank you very much.

However, it wasn’t all a relief. He couldn’t help feeling concerned about who they’d gone to live with. Given how cryptic they were being, Fuuta would have been convinced they walked into the woods to find a furry family of Jackalopes or something to raise them –except, they showed up for this walk with clean clothing and internet access. 

“I don’t believe you. You’re fucking with me right now. Why can’t you just tell me who it is?” 

“It isn’t any of your concern. Hey, I thought you swore to stay out of others’ business. You turned over a new leaf and all that?”

“Tch. I meant other people’s business. You’re different.” 

If Es had vanished off the grid like some of the other prisoners, Fuuta wouldn’t have cared. But they were here, near enough to arrange some lame meetup, which meant they were going to remain in his life for a while longer. And that meant, as the model citizen that Fuuta was, he felt responsible for ensuring they didn’t get themselves kidnapped by some creep. 

He asked, “how much do you know about them, anyway? I mean, what kind of person can house a random weird kid on incredibly short notice? That’s definitely suspicious.”

Fuuta pulled the mask up on his face as they turned down a more crowded street. He knew people were going to gawk at his eye anyways, but it still helped him feel like he was blending in. With his thoughts on the injury for a moment, he was glad that bitch Kotoko was one of the prisoners who had gone off the grid. Good riddance.

“I promise, she’s fine. Not weird with children at all. In fact, she’s really good with them, which is why she could help me on such short notice.” They muttered, “but it’s not like I’m that young…”

“That’s still not normal. Is she some old housewife or something?”

“Ah, are you trying to do the interrogation this time? Actually, I’d say she’s around your age.”

“It’s just you two living alone? I’m still worried about Milgram coming looking for us again – can a girl like that really protect you?”

“Is everyone supposed to live with a big, strong man, like you?”

“Wha–!” Fuuta’s cheeks burned red. “That’s not what I –!”

“I’m only teasing. It’s cute that you care about me.”

That only agitated him more. “It’s not cute! I’m being realistic! One of us has to think about your safety while you’re just distracted by some pretty girl.”

“What makes you think she’s pretty?”

“Well, why else would you be so careless in deciding to live with her?”

All of the sudden, he saw it in Es’ eyes: that spark of mischief that Fuuta had come to loathe. He could never tell what they were plotting, but it was never a good sign.

Es held up their hands in mock surrender. They put on a ridiculous, overdramatic voice. “Ah, you caught me, Fuuta! I’m hiding her identity because she’s the most beautiful, capable woman in all of Japan, and I want to keep her all to myself!” 

He groaned, but they weren’t deterred. “She’s got everything, I couldn’t risk you falling for her! She’s quite capable of defending me. She’s very strong, with protective instincts much like your own. She understands our situation like no one else could. She’s got intense eyes, and you wouldn’t believe her singing voice. She enjoys deep conversations, she’s a dog person, she –”

“ – now you’re being the creep! Just shut up, I get it already...”

When they finally had the decency to pull it together, they reassured him. “It’s all true, though. So there’s no need to worry about me. I’m in good hands.”

Good hands, his ass. In only a brief conversation, the caretaker had gone from sounding a little suspicious to sounding way too good to be true… meaning she was extremely suspicious.

“Maybe someday I’ll introduce you, if you’re lucky...”

He turned his eyes away. “At least let me run some background checks on her first.” 

(He would just stalk her on social media, but that still counted.)

“You’re just going to stalk her on social media. That doesn’t count.”

“Eh? I have legit methods!” He hid deeper under his mask.

Even after the topic was dropped, after he and Es parted ways on an awkward goodbye, Fuuta was left thinking about this mystery woman. It took a bit of digging (and maybe a tiny bit of social media stalking) but at last he found where Es lived with this stranger. Contrary to what they may believe, he had turned over a new leaf. There would be no more hiding behind screens or letting others do the confrontation for him. Now that he was a changed person, he’d do the healthy and normal thing with this information: he’d march on down there himself and confront her like a man. 

He made it all the way to the front door with his chin high. He knocked with confidence. 

Then he began to shift nervously. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the woman’s description out of his head. Sure, he was here to check on Es, but if someone happened to check him out at the same time, it was only right to be prepared… He straightened his shirt collar. He ran his fingers through his hair. He wondered if he should have covered up his eye to look more presentable.

The door swung open. 

The surprise on Kotoko’s face was nowhere near the amount on Fuuta’s.

“Oh, for fucks sake –!”

From somewhere behind her, Es’ laughter rang out.

[squuote]

if I made a dumb little coffee shop au of my own and had stanley throw a drink at the narrator, would that be too much or am I allowed to go wild with it. serious questions here. so serious

[lavampira]

dear love, take care of my heart, I’ve left it with you

[chimchiri]

Small follow up to this - and more suffering for Rainbow!

[altcvnningham]

picture frame {request}

adler x f!reader (pregnant!reader)

request: for anon, who asked for pregnant!reader x adler who does nottt wanna get on reader's bad side!!

tags: fluff, pregnant!reader, reader is ex-cia, domestic, so domestic it's practically an au, adler is ooc but let him be happy, future girldad!adler, author is feeling christmassy so christmas mention wc: 1.3k

a/n: i'm not usually a fan of pregnancy fics or fluff without underlying angst but i enjoyed this one, it was so comforting to write!! i hope i did this justice!! adler is a bit ooc but i don't wanna succumb poor reader to deadbeat dadler, so this is like post-bo6. also had to bind my hands to make sure i didn’t veer off writing an honorary uncle woods segment….. that man already has a whole david mason to worry about never mind miss adler junior. anyway enjoy !!

There isn’t a thing Adler fears in this world, but if he had to choose whose bad side he’d rather avoid getting on, it’s yours.

And that being said, it’s a fear coupled with excitement that verges on delirium- the ex clandestine special officer had never thought himself fit for married life, given his failed attempt in the past, and had all but given up on the faraway white picket-fence dream long ago.

There existed an Adler once, Russ, soft-faced and scarless, who’d dedicated such a dream to a snippet he’d spied once in a magazine; some schlocky, oversaturated Home Style issue perched upon a grocery store counter, featuring a staged photograph of an all-American nuclear family on some Christmas morning by the tree. Husband kicked back in a recliner with a cigar and eggnog, pregnant-bellied wife tinkering with baubles on the tree, two bright-eyed girls at her feet in matching pyjamas tearing into red-ribboned gifts. So sweet and saccharine a picture it verged on tooth-rotting.

A man of twenty or so at the time, already welded to the army fatigues he donned like a second skin, he’d rolled his eyes, checked out his pack of cigarettes, and went on his way. But he’d never forgotten the picture, or the bittersweet sadness lodged in his chest beside it. Perhaps partly knowing that such a life could never be his, fictitious and just out of reach. Were he a different man- a better man- maybe he’d wake up one morning to a pretty wife sleeping beside him, kids giggling down the hall, his hands soft and bloodless. Were he a better man, maybe he’d deserve such a thing.

And Adler is not a better man. Certainly no more than he was the day he’d seen that picture, and even then he doesn’t reckon he was wholly good. So God knows what he’d done to deserve this.

“No, no, a little to the left,” you say as you gesture with a rolled up interior design magazine, lips pursed in a sigh. A hand caressing your belly, crumpling your agitated, paint-flecked face, you’d been working on the nursery for hours.

Adler won’t admit how his aged back strains when he holds the picture frame up to the wall, nor can he hide the amused smile that starts to unfold when he catches wind of your ire. Balancing effortlessly atop the stepladder, he throws you a look back over his shoulder.

“Any more to the left and it’ll be goin’ out the window. You’re asking me to move mountains here.”

“And I’ll be asking you to move out if you don’t get that picture straight,” you tease, half a smile. “I’m not telling our daughter that she can’t know what gramma and pop looked like ‘cause you couldn’t hang a picture frame.”

Adler raises a hand in a surrender as he blithely succumbs to your demands, moving the frame leftward and fastening it exactly as you’d asked. He knows not to provoke your anger, a little pricklier now in your last few months of pregnancy, and though it’s all in good fun he could almost swear he’d near lose his head last week when he’d made a joke about your odd cravings, your empty coffee cup primed and ready to be launched at him.

But he’s as loving as any man with a blackened heart like him could possibly be, doting on you to a degree of obsession that was nigh unimaginable; both of you a world removed from your respective lives within the CIA, a far cry from having to dig out the odd bullet from one another and patch each other up in the midst of gunfights, sheltering for cover behind old splintered buildings. Domestic life wasn’t exactly a warzone, but it had been hard to settle into a vague sense of normalcy, almost like adopting new identities entirely. A prospect he’d joked about, now he was no longer officially CIA, changing your names to Mr. and Mrs. John Doe. Yeah, you’d groused, good luck hiding anywhere with that scar.

Still, it was fair game when he chose to get on your bad side. You’d once laughed, pelting him with your oven mitt after he’d thought it wise to joke about your cooking- your fault for getting caught in the crossfire.

“There,” he groans as he descends from the stepladder, shuffling back next to you so he could glimpse the frame from your perspective. “How’s that please you?”

It was a lovely thing. Not just the picture frame now hanging perfectly above the undecorated cot, but everything. This, your quaint home in the suburbs, away from the noise, playing your little game of house. Between the odd intel request from Woods, who’d jokingly insist he’d trade your help deciphering transcripts for him hosting the next Fourth of July cookout in your backyard, it was, relatively, a normal life. One that in truth you never thought you’d live to see.

It’s the little things, you suppose. Like the picture frame above the cot, in the little pale blue and pink nursery, half-complete.

You caress an idle hand over your tummy, feeling Russell’s own waver on the small of your back. Admiring your shared handiwork, you tilt your head with a smile.

“Mm. Perfect. Looks nice with the walls- wouldn’t have picked it for a girl but I think the duck-egg blue is just right.”

If Adler had resisted the urge to snidely tease just to get under your skin, he’d sorely lost. And if hours of sifting mindlessly through paint swatches had taught him anything, it’s that you took the choice of particular hues deathly seriously. He smirks.

“Oh? I thought it was periwinkle.”

There’s a deafening beat of silence before Adler flings his arms up in defence, warding off your attacks as you smack at him with the rolled up magazine; no amount of time out of the CIA had made your right hook any weaker, and you’re relentless with your barrage of attacks, met only by sounds of feigned agony and raspy laughter.

He doesn’t much remember what that picture in that old Home Style magazine had looked like, as his life slowly assumed the shape of you. He had everything he needed right here, and wanted for very little else. Wasn’t exactly choice to be excommunicated from the CIA after the mess in Panama, but he’s happy working for himself, for Marshall, teaming back up with Woods for the occasional op, only now he has an excuse to actually watch his own six, knowing who and what he had waiting at home for him. Home. A foreign word. It almost frightens him, to think how simple and easy a life he’s got between all the blood and the mess, how undeserving he feels of even a lick of it.

But a month or so later, come Christmas morning, he gets struck with the strangest frisson of déjà vu. Over a glass of eggnog, helping you fix the tinsel that had fallen from the tree again, he looks at you and he sees it. Feels it, some nameless void in him suddenly filled. A blink in the back of his mind and he sees that faded magazine article, only it’s you, rosy-cheeked and smiling as you are now, tinsel tumbling from your hands as you rush wobbling to his side. You let out a frantic gasp, seizing his wrist, and pull his hand to press against your belly, insisting that you feel a kick. And all he can do is laugh, teasing with a dry smile.

“Look at that. Just as strong n’ mean as her mama.”

[requiesticat]

just arson things

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