#lemon drop shots recipe

[avalunches]

Lemon Drop Shots Vodka and lemon juice are combined to create a lemon drop shot. It has sugar on top, making it into a sweet-and-sour party beverage that tastes exactly like the candy. 3/4 fluid ounce vodka, 2.5 teaspoons white sugar divided or more to taste, 1 lemon cut into wedges, 3/4 fluid ounce lemon juice

[callsign-joyride]

Slice of Your Pie - Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: Bob moves into your neighborhood and you bake him a pie as a welcome gift. He comes over to thank you for it, and doesn't end up leaving your house until morning.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x f!reader

Content warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), fingering, grinding, unprotected p in v (reader is on birth control), fluff

The nieghborhood that you lived in was small enough that you always knew when someone was moving in. You were enjoying your coffee on your porch when you saw a few trucks pull into the recently sold house right nextdoor. A few people stepped out of the first car, and some good looking guys got out of the moving trucks. You tried to subtly watch as they unloaded things into the house before walking down your driveway to get the mail. As you were checking the stack for anything that might’ve been junk mail, someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, I’m Bob. My friends are helping me move in, but I wanted to introduce myself before you went back inside,” he said. You smiled and introduced yourself, tucking the mail under one of your arms to shake his hand. You learned that he was in the Navy, and that he loved Star Wars. That fact made you smile, since your pajamas were currently a Princess Leia shirt and athletic shorts. 

“Hurry up, Bob! This couch isn’t gonna unload itself!” Someone yelled.

“That’s Coyote. I gotta go, but it was nice talking to you.”

“Wait, Bob, do you like pie? I can make you one if you want.”

“Sure! Key lime is my favorite.”

“That’s perfect. I have a lime tree in my backyard. Oh, and my lemon tree occasionally hangs over your property so feel free to pick a few lemons whenever.”

“Thanks! I have a really good lemonade recipe so I might have to take you up on that.”

You went back inside and looked at the recipe in your grandmother’s cookbook and realized that you didn’t have the right limes for the pie. Getting them was easy, though, it just took a trip to the grocery store. The good thing was that it was a Saturday, so you had the day off from running your family’s business. It was a bookstore and cafe, and all of the pastries came from your grandmother’s cookbook. There had been talks of turning it into a bar at night, but that was going to be a long process. 

Making the pie only took about forty minutes, but you had to let it cool in the fridge for at least a few hours. All of the moving trucks were gone, now replaced with a few cars in the driveway. You could hear laughter coming from the backyard, and it made you happy, because the last neighbors were close to the end of their lives and didn’t have guests over very often. 

You were able to drop the pie off at around 6, and Bob had mentioned that everyone was getting ready to eat and that it would be the perfect desert. He even invited you to join the cookout, but you had already ordered a pizza and the delivery driver was on their way. You exchanged numbers before you went back to your house so that you could keep talking. Once you had disappeared from ear shot, Fanboy started talking about how hot he thought you were. 

“Don’t make it weird. She probably has a boyfriend or something,” Bob said.

“I don’t think so. She spent her day making you a pie. A day that she could’ve spent with her boyfriend, might I add,” Phoenix said.

“But that’s the neighborly thing to do. Bring the new neighbor a pie or casserole. My mom always did it for our neighbors.”

“Most people aren’t working on Saturdays. I’m just saying that if I didn’t have to work and I had a boyfriend or girlfriend, I’d be spending my day with them. Anyway, let’s try this pie.”

Everyone had a slice of it after they finished with dinner. Even Hangman, who didn’t really like desert to begin with. Rooster thought it was so good that he kept coming back for seconds and thirds, soon passing out on Bob’s couch from all of the food that he ate. Bob waited for mostly everyone to leave before he texted you to see if you were still awake, since it was almost midnight. To his surprise, you responded that you were still awake, and you got too invested in your book so you lost track of time. He was at your door within five minutes, and you had a different set of pajamas on.

“Hey, I wanted to thank you for the pie that you made. My friends and I thought it was delicious.”

“You’re welcome! Would you like to come in for a drink? I was just about to pour myself another glass of wine.”

“Sure.”

Bob followed you inside and took his shoes off by the door. You poured him a glass of wine before sitting on the couch and using your phone to play soft music. As you got to know each other more, you discovered that you had a lot in common, and you were both single. The dim lighting of the living room, combined with the wine and music, made the sexual tension stronger. He told a bad joke, but you started laughing anyways. He used that as his moment to gently kiss you.

You were into it right away, pulling him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. He groaned into the kiss as he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you started grinding on his hard cock. He broke the kiss for a moment to take his shirt off, and you quickly followed. He put his hands on your tits as you continued to grind on his cock. 

“I’d love to continue this, but can we go to your bed? I’ve never really been a fan of having sex on a couch,” he said. You chuckled and grabbed his hand, leading him upstairs to your bedroom. He laid you on the bed, continuing to kiss you as he took your shorts and underwear off. He rubbed your clit and started to finger you while you were moaning and writhing underneath him.

“God, you’re so wet,” he said. 

“It’s all for you. Holy shit, it feels so good,” you moaned.

Once he figured out that you were ready enough for him, he took his shorts off and threw them by the bed. 

“I don’t have a-,”

“I have an IUD and I’m clean.”

“Okay. You ready?”

You nodded and felt him slowly push himself into you. You moaned in pleasure and pulled him down to kiss you as he started thrusting faster. You could tell that he was close as he started rubbing your clit so that you could both release at around the same time. The fire in your stomach was burning hotter until you finally released, and Bob quickly pulled out before releasing on your stomach. He rolled over and reached for the box of tissues that you kept by your bed before cleaning both of you up.

“Do you want to stay the night?” You asked. He chuckled and nodded his head, cuddling with you until both of you fell asleep. When you woke up the next morning from your alarm going off, Bob was still holding onto you.

“I have to be at work in an hour and a half,” you said.

“Oh, okay. Do you want me to make you something to eat or some coffee?”

“No, I usually have my breakfast at work. Thanks for the offer, though. Do you want to shower together?”

Bob nodded his head and followed you to the bathroom. The shower was intimate, but not sexual, something that you enjoyed.

With your bag over your shoulder, you stepped outside of the house and walked to your car.

“I really enjoyed last night. Maybe we could go out on an actual date next time, though,” you said. Bob started blushing, and he stammered out a “yes” while nodding his head. You chuckled and got into your car to go to work. The day went by quickly as you did multiple things around the little bookstore. Not very many customers came in, but it was a Sunday, so people were usually doing other things. You heard the bell of the door ring as someone walked in, so you finished putting copies of Frankenstein on the shelves before heading to the front of the store.

“Hi, can I help you with anything?” You asked as you walked to the register. Bob was standing there, smiling.

“I didn’t know that you worked here,” he said as he tried not to laugh.

“I own the place, it’s my family’s business.”

“Oh, nice. I guess I’ll have to come by more often, then.”

“Yeah, I guess you will.”

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[thecheekyblog]

It TIIMEEES!

You all know my passion for beauty and self care especially when it is DIY ! Like there is nothing better than taking care of yourself in the comfort of your home ( except maybe a 5 star but hey we do we what we can )

So here is few homemade recipe to take care of yourself right in your casa babes!

Hair mask :

1 ripe avocado

2 tablespoons honey

2 tablespoons olive oil (or coconut oil)

Optional: a few drops of essential oil (like lavender or rosemary)

Instructions:

Prepare the Avocado: Cut the avocado in half, remove the pit, and scoop the flesh into a mixing bowl.

Mash the Ingredients: Use a fork or a blender to mash the avocado until smooth.

Mix in Other Ingredients: Add the honey and olive oil (and essential oil, if using) to the mashed avocado. Mix well until you have a creamy consistency.

Apply the Mask: Start with clean, damp hair. Apply the mask evenly, focusing on the ends and any dry areas. You can use a comb to help distribute it.

Let It Sit: Cover your hair with a shower cap or a towel to keep the mask warm. Leave it on for 30 minutes to an hour.

Sugar wax :

2 cups granulated sugar

1/4 cup water

1/4 cup lemon juice (freshly squeezed is best)

Instructions:

Combine Ingredients: In a medium saucepan, mix together the sugar, water, and lemon juice.

Heat the Mixture: Place the saucepan over medium heat. Stir constantly until the sugar dissolves.

Cook the Mixture: Once dissolved, stop stirring and let it boil. Keep an eye on it, as it can bubble up. Cook for about 8-10 minutes, or until the mixture turns a golden amber color. Use a candy thermometer to check the temperature; it should reach about 240°F (115°C).

Cool Down: Remove the saucepan from heat and let the mixture cool for a few minutes. Pour it into a heat-safe container and allow it to cool completely.

Check Consistency: Once cooled, the wax should be pliable but not too sticky. If it's too hard, you can add a little water and heat it again briefly.

Face mask :

2 tablespoons plain yogurt (preferably unsweetened)

1 tablespoon honey

1 tablespoon oatmeal (finely ground)

Optional: a few drops of essential oil (like tea tree or lavender)

Instructions:

Mix Ingredients: In a bowl, combine the yogurt, honey, and oatmeal. Mix until you have a smooth paste.

Add Essential Oil: If desired, add a few drops of your chosen essential oil and mix again.

Apply the Mask: Clean your face and gently apply the mask evenly, avoiding the eye area.

Let It Sit: Allow the mask to sit for about 15-20 minutes.

Rinse Off: Rinse your face with warm water, gently massaging in circular motions to exfoliate.

Finish with a splash of cool water to close the pores.

Detox shot :

Ingredients:

1-inch piece of fresh ginger (helps with digestion and inflammation)

1/2 lemon (rich in vitamin C, supports immune function, and helps with digestion)

1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar (supports digestion and balances pH)

1/4 teaspoon turmeric powder (anti-inflammatory and antioxidant properties)

A pinch of cayenne pepper (boosts metabolism and circulation)

1 tablespoon honey or maple syrup (optional, for sweetness)

Instructions:

Prepare the ingredients:Grate or finely chop the fresh ginger.Squeeze the juice from the lemon.

Blend: In a blender, combine the ginger, lemon juice, apple cider vinegar, turmeric powder, cayenne pepper, and honey (if using).Add about 2–3 tablespoons of water to help with blending.

Strain (optional):If you prefer a smoother shot, strain the mixture through a fine mesh sieve or cheesecloth to remove any pulp.

Serve:Pour into a small shot glass (about 1 to 2 ounces).Stir well before drinking, as some ingredients might settle at the bottom.

So girlies, i hope this helps and see you on my next blog!!!

[ryin-silverfish]

JTTW Discord Summer Contest Entry: South Seas Sojourn

AO3 Mirror

-In collaboration with the amazing @ejaysstuff, who did the art!

-I'd say "This is mostly me nerding out about folklore", except that sums up all my recent one-shots.

-An LMK fanfic about Wukong going on a vacation, set between S3 and S4. 

---

"I'm going on a vacation!"

Before anyone in the noodle shop could let out a groan or a cry of "Again?!", Sun Wukong immediately added, "And you are coming too, MK. I ain't leaving my disciple out of the fun, not after, well, everything."

"But it's okay to leave me out of the fun?" Mei sulked, as she tried to make the tea inside her cup rise up, yet only created a little ripple. 

"Hey, I'm not the one who signed you up for that internship at your uncle's place." Sun Wukong said. "But maybe we can drop by once we are done! Take a break from the heat in the cool air of the North Sea."

"Yeah, the nice, cool, sub-zero-degree air of the arctic zone..." Mei sighed. "Don't wanna beat on that dead horse, but I'm so, so sick of icy stuff."

"Aw, bummers. Guess you won't be a fan of my new tea recipe, then." Sandy poked his head out from inside the kitchen. MK could hear ice cubes clinking inside a glass, and so did Mei, since she perked up within seconds and looked like she was on the verge of backflipping over the counter.

"Sandy, Sandy my man, I'll never not be a fan of your tea recipe!" 

"Uh, where are we even going?" MK asked, in between the sound of icy lemon tea being slurped through a twisty straw. "Don't get me wrong, I'm super duper up to it! But Mr. Tang had been complaining non-stop on MeChat about Pigsy's decision to drag him to Chang'e's virtual concert during summer break, where every major tourist spot is packed with kids. I hope we are going somewhere...quieter, that's all."

"Oh, no worries. It won't be deserted, but it ain't gonna be nearly as crowded." Sun Wukong paused, striking a pose. "We are going to the South Seas, bud!"

"...Where?" MK and Mei asked in unison, drowning out Sandy's faint "Wait, like, Guanyin's place?".

"Out south. In the oceans. Duh." 

"That explains nothi——"

"And no, my big blue friend, I won't be knocking on her doors at Potaloka unless someone needs saving! She's gonna be real busy in the next few weeks anyways." Sun Wukong continued. "For you less geographically gifted kids: it's where Lion City and Betel City are. Ring any bells?"

Mei made an "Oooo" noise. "You mean the place with the mermaid lion? Man, I was so disappointed when I found out it wasn't a real critter working for the South Sea Dragons." 

"I still have no idea what you are talking about!" 

"Ah well, MK, you'll be finding out soon enough." Sun Wukong said. "So go give your Dadsy a holler, and start packing up! We'll be leaving next week or the week after that, depending on when Nezha gets off work." A pause. "Yeah, he's coming too."

...

"We aren't really going on a vacation, are we?" MK asked, as he dragged his luggage up the creaky wooden walkway near the Megapolis harbor beach. 

Dangit, who knew that mosquito repellent and sunscreen could weigh so much? (Tang and Pigsy were very adamant about the importance of taking enough of these, once they heard the news over MeChat.)

"What makes you think that?" Sun Wukong replied, swishing his tail at the daring seagulls who kept trying to peck it. 

"Well, last time you said you were going on a vacation, you weren't really telling the truth." MK let out a nervous chuckle. "And Nezha's coming too. I don't know him all that well, but he doesn't sound like the kind of guy who'll, uh, join in on the fun just because?"

"Yeah. Sorry again, MK," he sighed. "But you are half-right. It's not a complete vacation, and more of a vacation-slash-summer school, slash-free exposure therapy..."

"What was that last part?"

"Nothing!" Sun Wukong exclaimed cheerfully. "Basically, you are gonna learn how to be a god, MK."

"I——WHAT?!"

"Relax, bud! It's not as serious as you think." A pause. "How do I put it...hmm, it's like being a hero, but more down-to-earth. Where, instead of people asking you to save them from big bad demons, they are asking you to solve their personal problems."

"Like?"

"Win lottery tickets. And discipline their kids for them."

"Speak for yourself."  

A familiar voice echoed through the evening air. The next second, in a blaze of pink fire, the Third Lotus Prince was standing tall on his wheels, his sash flowing in the wind. 

"Oooh, what did I just hear? Good ol' Brother Nezha, Electro-Techno Third Prince, The Other God You Go To For Lottery Tickets, acting all uppity and serious!" Sun Wukong stuck his tongue out at the new arrival. "Nice entrance, by the way. Very flashy." 

"You know very well I don't answer every desperate addict who doesn't know when to quit, nor do I play games of chance for fun! I play them to win!" Nezha retorted. "Also, thanks for the compliment, Great Sage."

"You are welcome, Laodi."

"Are we really going on a vacation to...help people gamble?" MK nervously raised a hand. "Isn't that, like, against the law?"

"Goodness, what have you been telling your disciple before my arrival? No, what have you left out?" Nezha groaned. "Well, since your mentor clearly hasn't explained our goals properly, I suppose I'll have to substitute for him. Again."

"Hey! Professor Sun is getting to it, Teaching Assistant Nezha——"

"In the next week, we shall be visiting and staying in multiple cities of the South Seas. Now that my true body isn't guarding the Samadhi Fire, I can finally start answering the more tricky prayers," Nezha sighed, "Which will only continue to pile up, since the Seventh Month is imminent."

"Seventh Month?" MK asked, reaching into his pocket with one hand. "But it's August the third already! Lemme check the calendar again..."

"Lunar Seventh Month. Also known as the Ghost Month." Nezha shot a look at Sun Wukong, his expression a mix between annoyance and slight concern. "Someone has picked a great time and place to take his student on a trip."

"What could I say? It sure is less depressing than Qingming nowadays. And they won't fine you for burning paper effigies in the South Seas, or so I've heard!"

"I…no matter." Nezha's look softened a bit, but not by much. "Back to what I was saying. Once the gates of the Underworld open, all the spirits will come out, go visit their families, enjoy the offerings as much as they can under the watch of Dashi Ye, Lady Guanyin's ghostly manifestation."

"We'll be assisting him, much like my brother and all the local gods. Keeping order, giving directions, and all that. In between these shifts, I’ll finally get to perform my duties in my actual physical body instead of the youthful manifestations mortals expect to see, and your mentor is free to monkey around with you and his worshippers at his own temples. All clear?"

"So we are gonna be, like, tour guides and security, but for dead people?" MK asked. "That doesn't…sound too bad, actually! Also, you have a brother, Nezha?"

"No, I pop out of a rock, just like your master." Nezha said flatly, then added, "Goodness, I wish. Muzha can be a bit much, but he's a lot more bearable while on the job, so no worries."

"Someone's getting jealous again, I see," Sun Wukong reached over to pat him on the head, and received an annoyed glare. "Oh, and don't let Nezha's sour attitude fool you, MK. We are still on a vacation, it ain't gonna be all work and no play! And the work won't start until several days later, so we'll have plenty of time."

…

This didn't seem like a great start for our vacation, MK thought. 

Okay, it did, for about three minutes, after they got off the somersault cloud. 

The palm trees were swaying in the wind, the two-story buildings with red-tiled roofs were glowing under the tropical sun, and Nezha reluctantly glamoured a lotus-patterned T-shirt and some baggy pants over his armor after rejecting Sun Wukong's more outlandish suggestions ("You should totally change your wheels into flaming flip-flops!"). Not a single dangerous, vacation-ruining, world-destroying threat in sight.

Then a giant rain cloud appeared out of nowhere, driving most of the crowd indoors and leaving the unfortunate ones seeking shelter under the nearest rooftops and bus stations. 

Not that it helped much——MK felt like he was standing behind the waterfall at Flower Fruit Mountain again, as raindrops slammed into the ground with a fury and created splashes of watery mists.

"Okay, Nezha, Did you anger the local dragons again?" Sun Wukong asked, holding the monkey-hair-turned-umbrella over MK's head.

"Nonsense! Not even the East Sea ones hold a grudge for this long, and I've never seen a South Sea dragon other than their king," Nezha said, then added, "and my brother's co-worker. Are you sure you have a temple nearby?"

"Eh, maybe. I saw a bunch of faith beacons up there, all clustered together." Sun Wukong shrugged. "Some of these have to be mine."

"Have to be yours? Oh, that's rich, coming from someone who hasn't visited the South Seas in person since the 19th century——"

"And they still love me, bud. Deal with it."

"Um, what's a faith beacon?" MK wiped the water droplets off his phone screen with one thumb, trying and failing to steer his luggage away from the puddles. "I'm not seeing any on CloudMap."

"Well, you won't, unless you are a patron god of IT workers or some other technology-related stuff!" Sun Wukong said. "How do I put it, hmmm…after people have prayed to you for a while, offered enough incense, you can just sense the places they are doing it at. Usually, it looks like a beam or a glowy aura, but some gods can smell or hear it too."

"Wow, that's so cool! It's like a mystical VR goggle. Is it something you can learn, though?"

"Look, I'm glad that you are doing your job as a mentor, but can we please get some actual directions?" Nezha sighed. "Temples here aren't always their own separate buildings. I've been summoned inside too many HDB flats to count, and you won't know that by looking at the beacons alone."

"We are heading in that direction right now. It'll get clearer once I get closer to the place. So be patient, will ya'?"

"Well, isn't that just the most reassuring answer I've ever heard. 'We'll get there when we get there'." Nezha muttered, as the group took a turn into a narrow side street, ducking below the swaying lanterns and multilingual shop signs. "Just so you know, if the rain doesn't stop and we don't get there in two hours, I'm dragging both of you onto a bus and to my temple instead."

"Why, you three sound like you are lost! Need a tour guide?"

Abruptly, a high-pitched, child-like voice resounded through the torrential rain, coming out of the alleyway to their left. MK turned to look at the speaker—

—and stared straight into the lifeless glowing eyes of a chalk-faced monstrosity, its red tongue hanging out of its mouth.

With a scream, his staff was out, and in a split second, connected with the thing's head and sent it flying into the nearest wall. It slid off the yellowed concrete, landed with a splash, then went completely still. 

A spiderweb crack was spreading across its porcelain mask——Oh goodness, it's a puppet, which was somehow even worse.

"Ah. The answer is 'No', it seems."

He nearly extended the staff and hit the puppet again when it spoke, had Sun Wukong not dashed forth and, in one swift motion, dragged a pale specter out of it by the robe collar.

"Glad to see you again, Xiao Xie!" He grinned in a rather dangerous way, like what Mr. Tang said non-intelligent monkeys really meant when they bore their teeth. "Is there any particular reason why you are jumpscaring my student in broad daylight, or do you just have nothing better to do?"

"Yes, because this one knows it will happen!" The specter, still in Sun Wukong's grip, said in a cheerfully oblivious voice. “The vision caught this one by surprise too. It's not every day that you see the Great Sage's golden staff approaching your face at lethal speed, especially when you have done nothing to offend him. Good thing this one did not come in his contractor's body!"

Behind them, Nezha let out a groan. "Oh joy, it's these two clowns again."

"W-W-What the heck just happened?! And what's THAT?" MK pointed at the specter. Outside of that creepy puppet, it just looked like a lanky, unnaturally pale youth in an oversized mandarin jacket and a tall hat.

Before Nezha could answer, another sullen voice cut him off.

"You knew you'd get smacked in the face if you came, so naturally, you possessed the creepiest vessel you could find and headed straight in this direction." The air suddenly got a lot colder. "I don't need precognition to know you deserve to be smacked at this point."

The water in a nearby puddle rippled. Okay, technically, it never stopped rippling because of the rain, but this one was a lot bigger, as if something was about to crawl out.

MK took a step back. Seconds later, the murky water turned inky black, rising up into the air and coalescing into the form of a short, stern-faced kid, wearing the same clothings as the pale specter, except they were all black-colored.

"Darn right, Lao—" Sun Wukong paused, as he turned and took a closer look at the newcomer. "Xiao Fan? Huh, didn't expect to see this you here. Not that I'm complaining."

"I'm absolutely complaining." The kid replied. "Our main souls have been attending one meeting after another at Fengdu since the Ivory Lady Incident, which is why I'm currently on," He shot a pointed look at his ghostly companion, "babysitting duty. You gonna smack him or not? Cause I won't mind if you do, Great Sage."

"Aww, really, Xiao Fan? You, of all people, should know that everything this one sees will happen, even if he doesn't know how or why. Since trying to avoid a future is the best way to unknowingly make it come true, this one can only try to soften the impacts and minimize the risks."

"By making sure you would, one-hundred-percent, get hit in the face by someone?" Fan snorted. "Way to go, brother."

"By making sure that staff wasn't slamming into this one's soul, or a flesh-and-blood vessel!" Xie replied. "And the mission is a success! Only a single puppet is harmed."

Nezha threw his hands up in the air. "How did you manage to be even more annoying and nonsensical than your main soul?"

"Welcome to my fucking un-life." Fan mumbled.

"Um, hello?" MK waved awkwardly. "Have you guys suddenly started speaking in some sort of secret code mid-conversation, cause I don't understand a single word you just said."

"Gosh! Sorry, bud," Sun Wukong finally let go of Xie's collars (now that MK thought about it, how did you even grab a ghost's collars? Mystic Monkey Magic at play again?) "Get a bit carried away there."

He pointed at the two specters. "Meet the Heibai Wuchang. The ghost cops, or rather, parts of them. Remember your hair clones? Xiao Xie and Xiao Fan here are kinda like that, but with their souls."

"T-The ghost cops?" MK squirmed. The downpour had become a light drizzle, but he still felt chilly, and it wasn't because his T-shirt sleeves and socks were now soaked. "Like…the ones you see when you are about to die?"

"Don't worry, bud! They aren't here to take any of us away. I think." Sun Wukong narrowed his eyes slightly, "and even if they were, I'd like to see them try."

"Nah. Not a chance. This one still values his un-life—"

"Yeah? Then apologizing to my student and stop wandering around in that thing will be a good start!"

"—so yes, he is very sorry for the distress he caused, young one. The 'wandering around in possessed objects' part, though, is perfectly legal, and this one still has to take the puppet back to his temple, so sorry, no can do."

"You have a temple now?" Sun Wukong let out a chuckle of disbelief. "You two?"

"You really haven't been around here in a while, have you, Great Sage?" Nezha said. "Yes, unfortunately. It's a new South Seas trend, and I hope it stays where it is."

"Our main altar here is still inside the City God's temple. But there are more temples dedicated to us alone, across the strait." Fan said. "And I'm obligated to inform you that all deities who visit the South Seas in their true bodies instead of using clones or astral projections must notify the local City God's temple beforehand, or submit the relevant paperwork immediately after arrival."

"Hmm, and if I don't?" Sun Wukong raised an eyebrow. "What are you gonna do?"

"Other than following you around and staring at you judgmentally? Nothing substantial." Fan said, before sighing deeply. "But if you can at least pretend to respect us and not treat Underworld officials like the complete pushovers we are, we'd really appreciate it."

Sun Wukong hollered at that. "Y'know what? I think I'll do just that, since this you are a lot cuter and not a raging jerk!"

"You know my main soul can hear you, right?"

"Exactly." Sun Wukong grinned. Unlike a few minutes ago, it was a lot less tense. "So lead the way, Xiao Fan!"

…

When MK heard the whole…ghost temple thing, he was expecting skeletons, eerie lighting, spooky stuff.

Okay, some of the statues and puppets were still creepy. Same for the possessions. 

Sure, the ghost cops had explained that they had human "contractors" who'd let them possess their bodies willingly, after signing a lengthy form where all the risks and duties are spelled out clearly.

But when he thought of possessions, the only images that came to mind was LBD's host, shaking like she was in the middle of winter again despite sitting inside the safe, cozy confines of Pigsy's Noodles. And Sun Wukong's golden eyes glowing frost blue, devoid of all warmth and emotions.

Well, better get used to it now. Gonna see a lot more ghosts once the…summer school part of the vacation-slash-summer school starts.

MK took a deep breath and began to make his way back through the corridors, a small incense burner in hand. The exterior of the temple was dated and slightly out of place, sitting beneath towering skyscrapers and surrounded by neatly trimmed park lawn.

Past the main hall and the altar room behind it, however, the place could be mistaken for any modern office building. Or the background of a Monkey Cop episode, except the cops were all ghosts and the monkey was filling in the divine equivalent of a customs form.

"There, done." Sun Wukong said, putting the pen down, "Right in the nick of time! For real, though, couldn't you ghosts just burn the paperwork together with the rest of the effigies?"

"And get them stuck beneath a mountain of sports cars, or whatever insane vehicles people decide to send to their ancestors nowadays? No thanks." 

As he handed the incense burner over to Sun Wukong, who crumpled the form into a ball and tossed it inside, MK caught a glimpse of a dark blue aura, enveloping the handle of the back door before it opened on its own. Two more uniformed ghosts hovered in, telekinetically carrying multiple pitched paper objects.

"Speak of the devil…" Fan turned towards his partner, who was leaning leisurely against a wall. "This year's bunch are already coming in, and if you bothered working with a contractor today, you better put that physical body to good use and start helping!"

"Alright, alright, This one hears you." Xie yawned, then walked over and grabbed the floating effigies. "Hmmm, no helicopters or private jets this year? That's a bit disappointing."

"Well, Mr. Chow sent a pretty big table, boss. We don't think it's gonna fit through the backdoor, so we left it in the park pavilion."

"Excuse me?" MK perked up. At last, a chance to do something instead of just standing there and watching awkwardly. "Do you need something resized? Cause I have just the power for that!"

…

"Y'know, I was wondering what's so special about a table," Sun Wukong poked his head out from behind the door frame, trying very hard to suppress the giggles, "or why they'd make a live-sized one in the first place. Now I get it." 

"Kudos for dedication, I guess?" MK shrugged. "I'm sure their loved ones would, uh, appreciate the gift down there."

With a snap of his fingers, the paper Mahjong table returned to its original size, drastically reducing the remaining space inside the storage room. 

Yeah, the "craft" part of "Arts & Crafts" wasn't really his strong suit, but a piece this detailed and lovingly crafted? It probably took weeks to make. And cost more than an actual Mahjong table.

"Are you two done admiring the beauty of that absurd object? Can we please leave and go somewhere else now?" Nezha's muffled complaint came from the corridors. “It's raining outside again, and if we don't hurry——"

"Even if you do hurry, this one doubts you will be able to get any further than the bus stop, in the two minutes it shall take for the drizzle to become a downpour once more." Xie said, then tossed the last stack of golden joss paper into the storage room.

"Great! Wonderful! Yeah, I'm just looking forward to spending more time with you and your clowns-in-training." Nezha snarked. "How will we ever get anywhere in life without your nifty short-term prophecies?"

"Hey hey, Nezha, chill out. A dash of salt is good n' all, but you are getting spicy over there." Sun Wukong said. "But, speaking of ways to pass the time during a rainy day…"

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he turned to look at Xie. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Judging by what this one just saw? Yes."

"Great! Come here, bud, I have something that will make our stay a lot less boring."

Sun Wukong beckoned MK over, back into the big guest room, then pulled out a tuft of hair. Seconds later, an actual Mahjong table landed squarely on the floor with a thud, complete with chairs and Mahjong sets, followed by an "Ohoho, lovely!" and two simultaneous shouts.

"Seriously? Don't set a bad example for your student!"

"Don't you dare corrupt our guests, Xiao Xie!"

"Please, this one is just joining in on the fun. Our guests have no problem 'corrupting' themselves, so to speak!"

"Oh, c'mon, it's not gambling if you aren't betting actual money!” Sun Wukong exclaimed. "It's like poker, but…for old people. Right, MK?"

"Um, one problem: I don't know how to play Mahjong! Or poker!" MK said, scratching his head. "The only card game I know is Uno."

"Great! You can just learn it on the fly, then, under the watchful eyes of Professor Sun and Teaching Assistant Nezha!"

"No way, Great Sage. I'm not helping you lure your student astray into a potential lifetime of wasted hours and petty vices."

"Really?" Sun Wukong flashed a taunting smile. "I bet you only said that 'cause you don't wanna lose too badly to me. Again."

"Oh, you take that back right now, monkey!" Nezha jabbed a finger at him. "If we were back in the old days and in a gambling house, you'd be going home in nothing but your undershirt and breeches by the end of the day!"

MK did not miss the implication that, at some point in the past, these two had indeed been to an actual gambling house.

"A bold challenge if I've ever heard one!" Sun Wukong's grin widened. "Or is your bark worse than your bite? Brag all you like, but the only way to prove it is to get on the table yourself."

"I——Screw this, I'm in," Nezha took a deep breath, “But only because it will be quite satisfying, kicking the collective behinds of the two most annoying gods I've ever met." A glare at Sun Wukong, then, at Xie. "So. Get. Ready."

"That's the Third Prince I know!" Sun Wukong gave him a thumbs-up. "Bring it on, lad!"

MK gulped. "Yeah, sorry, I think I'm just gonna watch you guys play first. Get a feel of the game before jumping in. Is that alright?"

"No prob. Though this did put us in the most classic bind in the entire history of Mahjong…" Sun Wukong paused dramatically. "The 'Short of a Fourth' problem."

"That won't be me." Fan immediately said, before walking through the nearest wall. "Still have a job to do." He turned, poking his head out of the wall once more. "But by all means, teach Xiao Xie a lesson for me."

"Ah well." Sun Wukong shrugged, reaching towards his head. "Guess this calls for my clone——"

"No!" Nezha smacked his hand away. "That's just blatant cheating!"

"But literal future vision isn't?"

"Hey, it's not like this one can turn it off." Xie protested. He looked like he wanted to say something else, before Sun Wukong stood up, dashing out of the door and towards the altar room. 

"Guys! We are one person short of a Mahjong game here!" A pause. "Niang Niang? Ah Pek? Datuk? Hello? Anyone up to it?"

"...What's he doing?"

"The divine equivalent of spamming telephone calls." Nezha rolled his eyes. "Yelling into the ears of every deity's idol he can find, and hoping for a response."

"For your knowledge, we have a three-people variant of the game here," Xie added, unhelpfully.

…

Way after Sun Wukong had returned, sulking a little but soon jumped right into arguing with Nezha, MK heard a chime. 

Like someone had just dropped a bunch of coins onto a marble floor, but…louder. Okay, he wasn't too sure about that last part, because if the others heard it too, they did not react to the noise at all.

"It's still not gambling! Just a way to keep the score, yanno?" Sun Wukong continued, tossing a tangerine back and forth between his hands——one he probably pinched from a random altar table on his way back. "Also, the game will be pretty boring if you aren't winning something."

"That's the very definition of gambling." Nezha said, with a deadpan expression. "Wagering money or other stakes in a game of chance."

"It's only a stake if it's something of value, and outside of sentimental ones, these offerings have none." Sun Wukong turned to Xie. "Otherwise you won't give them away to folks for free before they spoil, right?"

"Indeed, for we've already eaten them." 

MK squinted at the fruit; not a single bite mark or patch of peeled skin was found on its exterior.

"Ewww." Sun Wukong grimaced. "Anyways, that just makes them even less valuable and further proves my point."

"Is that supposed to be convincing? Because I'm not taking home a bunch of ghost-eaten fruits even if you give them to me for free——"

"Greetings," someone cleared their throat, then said in a deep, magnetic voice, "Is it you who invited this Zhao to your humble temple for a game, friends?"

The door curtain jingled; in walked a dark-faced man with an impressively bushy beard, clad in gilded black armor and red-gold robes. The only thing that didn't make him as intimidating as he should was the black tiger cub, clinging onto his shoulder pauldron like an oversized housecat.

"Yep, Lao Zhao!" Sun Wukong cheered, "Didn't think you'd have the time, but here you are!" He winked at MK, "Now, ya' ever seen a God of Wealth statue in your Dadsy's store? If you did: this is your guy in the flesh, Zhao Gongming himself."

"Oh yeah! The statue," MK tried his best to recall something that looked like the man, yet the only thing that came to mind was the adorable and totally dissimilar one on the counter. "You mean he's..the cat?"

"Ha! I like your little disciple, Great Sage." Zhao Gongming laughed. "Sadly, no. The only feline here is my steed, Biandan Hua." He pointed to the tiger cub. "In her baby form, so I don't get animal control called on me again. Mortals these days are so easily startled, I swear."

"Aww, that's the cutest name I ever heard." Sun Wukong cooed, earning an unimpressed look from the tiger. "Anyways, since we have our fourth guy here, without further ado, let's begin——"

"A second. I'm here for business too. Serious business," he held up a hand. "Have any of you seen a golden scissor? It's about this size, but becomes a lot bigger when transformed," a gesture, "about the size of a city block. Ah, and it can turn into two flood dragons."

"Nope!"

"Hmm. This one doesn't think so."

"The Golden Dragon Shears?" Nezha’s eyes widened. "How did you lose *that*, Marshal Zhao?!"

"I didn't! It's probably my youngest sister again. Bixiao is still rummaging through our study, so I may as well check in the Lower Realms while she's at it." He said. "Make sure no one has 'borrowed' it without their permission."

"Why are y'all looking at me?" 

Awkward silence ensued, broken immediately by Sun Wukong's indignant huff.

"Okay, first, I'm insulted by your insinuations! You eat a few peaches, and suddenly you are THE suspect whenever something goes missing up there." He shook his head. "Second, you have sisters, Lao Zhao? Huh, never know that."

"Well, unless you are planning to have kids in the immediate future, Great Sage, your paths are unlikely to cross!" Zhao Gongming laughed, before resuming his frown. "Our scissors are far from the only missing treasure, though. Other palaces have also reported similar cases over the last hour. I'll just have to go shake down Spirit Official Ma again——wouldn't be the first time that little candlewick bugger tried to pin his thefts on someone else."

At the mention of Spirit Official Ma, Nezha mouthed something that sounded suspiciously like a swear word. Sun Wukong made a face. 

"Yeah, show that Huaguang brat who's boss! But before that, surely you still have time for a Mahjong game? It'll only be a minute up there." 

"Hmm, I suppose it won't hurt." Zhao Gongming replied, twirling his beard. "But with one condition: no one uses their godly powers."

"Define 'godly powers'?" 

"Anything that requires intent to activate." Zhao Gongming said. "Your golden vision, active divination instead of passive, uncontrollable foresights, my power over fortune..."

A sigh. "I've played enough games where that is allowed. With my disciples it always turns into a teaching session, and playing against my fellow gods of wealth feels more like a power-measuring contest than a true match of skills, especially when Bi Gan was involved." He shook his head. "For a scholarly god of wealth, the old man can be more competitive than us martial ones."

"I feel ya', Lao Zhao. It's always the old geezers who play dirty."

"Hello? Excuse me?" Nezha asked. "Am I the only one who's more concerned about the missing treasure of mass destruction than the silly Mahjong game?!"

"Yes, yes you are." Sun Wukong smirked. "It's just a tiny scissor! What mass destruction can it cause, other than to Art & Crafts materials?"

"Says the blissfully ignorant monkey who has never seen it in action," Nezha retorted, then lowered his head with a defeated look. "Whatever. I don't care anymore. Just don't mention me when the Celestial Host starts pointing fingers and your sisters come knocking, Marshal Zhao."

"You have my words, Third Prince." Zhao Gongming made a fist-and-palm salute, almost jokingly. "For I'm not one to tattle, even if it means enduring Yunxiao's scolding alone. Now, what are the stakes for this game?"

…

After a brief discussion, the four had settled on using some unopened and unoffered snacks as their stakes. Which still didn't beat the gambling allegations, according to Nezha. 

Well, it was better than betting all your belongings on a rigged game and losing them all, at least. And after watching a few rounds of their play, MK's only thought was Dang, if that goldfish demon chose this game back then, he wouldn't even need to cheat to wipe the floor with me.

"You know, if someone tells me I'll be watching the Great Sage, two celestial gods, and a ghost play Mahjong like old people at a community center during the first day of our vacation..." MK mumbled to himself, "I'll probably believe it, actually."

Despite having only the vaguest idea of the rules——whoever completed a set of certain tiles first won the game——and not getting any closer to understanding them, he was determined to keep watching. 

If only because Sun Wukong winked at him right before tossing the dice and starting the round, and he was pretty sure it meant "Watch and learn, bud!" in a way that suggested the message went beyond a simple Mahjong game.

"What you are seeing now is not a typical day for most of us, if that makes you feel less disillusioned." Fan said, without looking up from the documents he was flipping through. 

A while ago, the ghost had returned with a stack of them, and the papers were now floating around him in a ring, suspended by the dark blue glow of telekinesis. If that wasn't the most stylish way of doing paperworks, MK didn’t know what was.

"Uh, but I'm not?" MK said. "It's just…a lot less serious than I thought, this whole 'gods' business, and honestly, I'm not complaining! The Great Sage looks like he’s having a good time too."

Back on the table, Sun Wukong and Nezha yelled "Pong!" at the same time, then immediately glared at each other.

"Hey, I said that first!"

"That doesn’t matter, because you are cheating!" Nezha huffed. "It is impossible for two players to Pong at the same time unless someone has sneaked an extra tile in there while shuffling them, and we all know who that is."

"Well yeah, but I'm just evening the odds in a rigged game, Laodi." Sun Wukong said, eyeing Xie sharply. "For the sake of fairness, I'll allow you to cheat back too. How 'bout that?"

"Good grief, and I thought Master Taiyi was the most unabashed cheater I ever met on the table." Nezha took a deep breath and announced, "New battle objective: show the two cheaters who's boss, without lowering myself to their level."

"Well, this one can't blame the Great Sage for it. Two more turns, and he’ll claim the first win."

"Keep your visions to yourself, ghost!"

"Thanks a lot, Xiao Xie." Sun Wukong grinned. "That gives me even more reason to do it."

A few more turns, a few more clacks, and the monkey was left staring wordlessly at the table.

"Hey, what the heck! Your vision isn't right."

"This one's vision is always right. That, however, isn't one." Xie gave them an innocent look. "It's just the time-honored tactic of 'lying', friend."

"Serve you right for trusting him and cheating." Nezha snorted, before reaching out to claim the discarded tile.

"Why, ya' little——!"

"Credit where credit's due, that sure is a more entertaining use of precognition than the average Dipper Mansion chess game." Zhao Gongming commented, amidst the chaos. "I look forward to what you will bring to the table next, budding little wealth god."

"More bullshit, that's what he'll bring." Fan crossed his arms. "And he wonders why I don't play chess with him anymore."

"Well, I guess it could be worse." MK said. "They could be playing Monopoly."

"What's a Mono-poly?"

"A game that ruins friendships and turns family members against each other. Mei tried introducing her cousins to that during a New Year gathering." MK shuddered. "Some of them still won't talk to her."

"Sounds like it needs to be exorcized." Fan said, without a single hint that he was joking. 

"Please don't."

MK kind of got the impression that he was the "by-the-book" cop of their buddy cop pair, who sounded serious whether he meant it or not, but maybe the kiddy soul would take things just that literally.

Sadly, his clarification ended up killing the conversation. For the next few moments, they just sat side-by-side, listening to the clacking of Mahjong tiles.

And the clacking had intensified, as the game picked up speed. Sun Wukong in particular was speeding up into a blur, fidgeting in his chair, using only one hand to move the tiles while juggling the same poor tangerine with the other.

Now, he was always in motion, gesturing as he talked, grabbing something or the other wherever they went. But the fidgeting had intensified to a point well beyond what MK was used to, which was making him fidgety too.

After a loud "Would you please stop that?" from Nezha, MK finally mustered enough courage to half-prod at Fan——and immediately drew his hand back! Wow, ghosts are freezing to the touch. 

(Okay, he wasn't really touching anything solid, but it felt like reaching into a pocket of sub-zero-degree air, made even more jarring by the heat of summer.)

"Sorry sir, one question." MK asked. "I don't really have a good grip on the rules yet, but is the Great Sage in trouble now? Like, is he losing?"

"No idea. I'm not bored enough to watch and guess their sets." Fan said. "But if you are talking about his hyperactivity, that's not a result of panic."

"Then what’s he doing?"

"He's teaching you how to fight someone with precognition."

"By…acting like a wind-up toy?"

"On the surface level, yes." He answered. "How much do you know about divination?"

To pain. 

No, not that one. MK shook his head wildly. "Next to nothing, I guess."

"Good. You aren't losing out on much." Fan said, before frowning. "I'd rather know less about it, but Xiao Xie just has to be an insufferable prick, so here we are. Essentially, think of Fate like a game of cards, or Mahjong, or whatever game of chance of your liking."

MK chuckled. The idea of Fate being a Uno game was quite a funny one, not gonna lie, if only because he'd get to figuratively shout "Reverse!" at someone.

"The Way is the ruleset, what is allowed and not allowed to happen. The winning and losing conditions. The cards and tiles are the individual events and outcomes, happening to a being as they draw them, one by one."

"To the Dipper Mansion celestials in charge of Fate, divination is like having your master's golden eyes and fiery vision. They can see through the cards and tiles, know what's on them instinctively, and are thus banned from playing, only able to shuffle and deal them out on the Celestial Host's orders."

Zhao Gongming's tiger, having jumped off its master's shoulder long ago, pawed at Sun Wukong's twitching tail. This only egged the monkey on, as they promptly began a game of 'catch my tail if you can' off the table.

"For some," he looked at Nezha, his face a mask of intense concentration, "it isn't so much divination as making snap-second, highly accurate guesses, aided by superb memorization skills. To the more unfortunate mortals, however, it's like seeing recordings of multiple games playing side-by-side, with no way of knowing which one is theirs."

"Lucky for my sworn brother and almost no one else, he can see snippets of a single recording, which just happens to be ours." Fan said. "It's also random, very short-reaching, and makes the part of his soul that bears the brunt of it into a kooky brat with no self-preservation instincts. But I've complained enough. Now that you know how his precognition works, what will you do to counter it?"

"Does not playing the game count?"

"A wise choice. But suppose you don't get to choose."

"I, uh." Think, smartie kid, think! What is the relationship between ultra-hyperactive monkey behavior and beating a ghost with future vision on the Mahjong table? (Oh geez, it's like that one question about ravens and writing desks in that foreign children's book again…)

"I guess I'll make myself, well, unpredictable and even more random?" He finally said, hesitantly.

"Not very specific, but you get the gist of it." Fan nodded. "Going back to my analogy, your master knows his opponent is making a random draw too, except each card he draws allows him to see others claiming or discarding a certain tile."

"So he decides to add more useless cards into the pool. False maneuvers, feints," Fan pointed to the tiger, still pawing at Sun Wukong’s tail, "Artificially creating another game on the side to divert the visions. Nothing can be a hundred percent predictable, not even literal future vision, and if only my partner realized that, he'd be a lot less annoying and not on the way to getting absolutely destroyed in this game."

"Wow. That's very clever and all, but should you really be telling me this?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't know much about the Underworld, outside of how Monkey King wrecked the place and scribbled him and his monkeys' name off the Book of Life and Death——" MK waved nervously, "No hard feelings 'bout that, ey? But if the Great Sage is teaching me how to counter you guys, does that mean you'll be going after us at some point in the future?"

"Technically, we'll be going after everyone who isn't an immortal or formally ranked celestial, sooner or later." Fan said. "Your master is firmly in the first category, and for you, that won't be in a long, long time, if it eases your worries."

"Yeah, no. Not at all. Thanks."

"You don't like ghosts very much, do you." He said, then, before MK could reply, added, "Which is fine. We don't like ourselves either."

"Uhhhh, don't be?" Oh gosh, was there really a way to word this without offending ghosts more? "It's not like I dislike you guys! Like, you and the other ghost cops seem pretty chill. It's just, y'know, a bit freaky, seeing the walking reminder of my inevitable mortality and all, ahahaha…"

"It is. And I won't tell you what to feel about that." Fan held up a finger, and the documents he had been reading were instantly sorted into neat little stacks in midair. "But if there is one thing you remember from our conversation, let it be this: no game lasts forever."

"One has to end in order for another to begin, and a game where no one wins or loses is gonna be a very boring one. We, officials of the Ten Courts, are but the keepers of scores, and you don't have to win in order to have fun while it lasts."

"Hu le." Zhao Gongming's calm voice cut through the chit-chat, followed by a light thud of him pushing the tiles over. "Four Kongs."

All eyes were immediately on him.

"By Buddha, Lao Zhao! No wonder you've been so quiet."

"Ugh!" Nezha facepalmed. "I was so close!" He shot a half-hearted glare at Sun Wukong. "This is all your fault, by the way. Without the extra tiles you snuck in there, he'd have never gotten such a rare combination."

"C'mon, maybe he's just that lucky?"

"Very enlightening." Xie hummed, handing over the bag of peach-flavored chips to Zhao. "This one knows he won't be winning the first round, but its certainly a great start!"

"And this is why you don't gamble with a literal, formally ranked, celestial god of wealth." Fan said, after a long, stunned silence. "Even when he isn't actively using his influence, for fairness's sake."

"He's not?"

"If he did, he'd just win every round, and there wouldn't be a game to speak of."

…

They stopped playing when the rain stopped, at which point the sun had already disappeared below the horizon. Zhao Gongming left halfway after getting an astral call from his sisters, shaking his head, giving MK the chance to finally join in. 

Sun Wukong had stopped cheating after that——at least not as blatantly, if Nezha's words were to be believed. To MK, he just settled back into his old laid back attitude, which, in turn, made his own palms less sweaty as he faced off against the other two.

He still lost, badly, only barely managing a win at the very end. Not that it mattered, since Nezha had soundly kicked everyone's butts like he wanted, coming out at the top by a wide margin of three bags of chips and a single Tau Sar Piah.

"Let this be your lesson, Monkie Kid," he said, with a hint of childish glee, "That hard work, knowledge of statistics, and memorization skills will always triumph over luck and a bunch of cheating clowns."

"Ah well. I'll let you have your moment, Laodi, since it's pretty much the only fight you can win against me." Sun Wukong responded with a cheeky smile, then tore open his bag of chips and started munching loudly on them. 

"Yes, keep telling yourself that. Maybe you'll actually start believing in it." Nezha smirked, before standing up from his chair. "I'll just be over here, basking in the glow of victory and trying to not run into my brother on the way back——"

As if on cue, a shout came from outside.

"GREETINGS! This Hui An pays his respect to the City God and his attendants!"

"Annnnnd there goes my good mood." Nezha muttered. A formation started glowing under his feet. "Goodbye. If anyone asks, I've never been here."

Almost immediately after he disappeared in a blaze of pink fire, the speaker outside with the loud, booming, megaphone-against-your-ears voice marched through the doorway.

"Oh. Hi there, Muzha."

"HI THERE, as the younger generation says these days!" The tall man replied cheerfully. The dangling green ties on his hair bun were swaying back and forth, as he made a bow. 

"Heard you yelling into Lady Guanyin's statue a while ago, Great Sage, so I decided to pay a visit. Is my brother here too? Longnü said she saw you two flying together, while weaving the storm clouds with her kins."

"Well, in Nezha's exact words, 'If anyone asks, I've never been here'." Sun Wukong shrugged.  "So no, he is not here." 

"Ah. Embarrassed, I see!" He exclaimed, making his way to the Mahjong table and staring down at the tiles. "He really shouldn't be, though. By my religious vows, I'm supposed to refrain from such worldly pass-times, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be preachy about it!"

Now MK was starting to have an idea of what "Too much" meant. Namely, his complete lack of volume control.

"Well, looks like I've dropped by at a rather inopportune time, so I won't keep you fellows any longer, Great Sage. Thanks for keeping my little brother company, though——"

His sight met MK's, and only then did Muzha seem to notice his presence. "And DEAR ME! Is that your new disciple I've heard so much about? A pleasure to meet you too, young one!"

He reached out for a handshake. MK made the mistake of taking it, and immediately winced. 

"Oww, owww——Nice to meet you too?!"

"Please stop crashing my disciple's hand, Muzha."

"Sorry, sorry!" He laughed, releasing his iron grip at last. "It's just so wonderful to see the juniors coming into their own, I get a bit carried away. Still, this acolyte looks forward to working with you in the days to come!"

"Man, we are busy here today, aren't we?" Xie commented, just as the overly cheerful and loud immortal made a turn and headed for the backdoor. "So many visitors. Not that this one is complaining."

"...Yeah." MK agreed, after awkwardly waving Muzha goodbye.

Well, one thing was certain: godhood internship or not, he'd sure have one hell of a story to tell once he got back home.

[draclula]

“Magic and Desserts” lyney x f!reader

chapter 1

Summary: as Lyney is coming back from Caesar’s grave he hears something.

author’s note: the explanation is very vague but bear with me 🙏😭

word count: 1.1k

It was a late afternoon, Lyney had visited Caesar’s grave and was nearing the outskirts of Poisson. The scenery was quite nice. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining low near the horizon and the sky was warm orange tone. Everything was nice until.. he heard something. 

A blood curdling scream and the sound of monsters nearby. Lyney ran to see what was happening. When he peered above the hill he saw the figure of a girl in her late teens that was struggling to sho away 3 hilichurls. He quickly drew out his bow and shouted “I will shoot them don’t move too much!”. You were crouching near a hazelnut tree, holding a thick branch in your hands that was somewhere near a meter. The hilichuls looked behind them to face the magician and that was your chance to slip away. He shot one of them in the head causing it to fall backwards dead. The other two monsters charged at Lyney, who was slowly taking some steps back *phew* another arrow was launched and killed the second hilichurl. And just when the third one  was about to hit him *bonk* the monster laid unconscious on the ground. You have hit him with that thick branch of yours. “Are you alright?” you shakily asked. “Yes, are YOU alright?” he dropped his bow on the ground as he tried to keep you from falling on the ground. “I am fine, it’s…. the adrenaline..” you said trying to collect yourself from what just happened “ I’ve never done this before hah..” you smiled at him panting. 

Lyney escorted you to your house in Poisson makeing sure everything was really okay before leaving you. “Please wait here for a moment.” you asked him and quickly ran inside your house. He stood there a as you walked back to him. “Here, a ‘Thank you’ present for saving me.” you said, handing him a lemon dessert. He looked stun for a moment and said “Oh no, please I couldn’t possibly take this!” “I insist. You save me from those hilichurls, Archons know what could have happened to me if you weren’t there! So please, take it.” you replied with a determined frown on your face. Lyney signed “Well I guess they’re really isn’t telling you ‘no’ then, but only if you do me a favour.” you cocked your head. “I want to see your smile.”. He smirked a bit after seeing your flushed face. “M-my smile?” you stuttered “Yes, as if you saw something very dear to you!” he instructed lightly. You lowered your gaze, seemingly spacing out a bit, before a soft smile appeared. “There it is! A young lady’s most powerful weapon is her smile, so please smile more.” His kind words were something else, but right when he was about to slip out. “Mister! Your lemon dessert!” “Nothing really escapes your eyes, huh.”.

“Freminet! Do you know where Lynette is?” Lyney asked his brother “I thinks she said she was going to the café. Didn’t she tell you?” Well she did but her dear twin was busy with training some new card tricks and couldn’t hear a thing. “Thank you!” He shouted and ran out, not hearing his question.

He was looking over at the tables to find Lynette which was honestly not so hard, but there was someone familiar near her. 

“Sooo what do you think of this chocolate chalk dessert?” “Mmmm, it’s not too bad, you said that this recipe was from Sumeru, yeah?” “‘Too bad’?! What do you mean by that!” Lynette was talking to no other girl but you and you were… serving her a… dessert? “Well hello ladies!” Lyney greeted you both, pulled his hat down to his chest and bowed low. “Oh, hello brother.” Lynette said while you stood beside her. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to practice new card tricks.” Dumbfounded you asked “W-wait, you know each other?” the girl looked up at you “Such a foolish question, we are twins.” “You never told me you had a twin brother!” your jaw dropped almost to the floor. Lyney chuckled a bit “You are the hazelnuts girl if I am not mistaken?” your gaze moved to him “Ah, yes! I never introduced myself properly, my name is [name]. Nice to meet you mister…” you shifted your hand to shake his. Lyney was actually a bit surprised that you didn’t recognise him “Lyney, my name is Lyney, Madmoiselle.” He grasped your hand as he bowed just so he can kiss your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”. Your face was bright red, no one has done this to you before and it felt… good, you felt giddy and appreciated. “Sadly though we have to part.” he let go of your hand and stood up, his eyes darting to Lynette who was actively trying to avoid him, slowly eating the dessert you made. “Come on Lynette, we have a rehearsal.” “Ah, can I at least  finish my dessert?” she pleaded. Then you asked perplexed “A rehearsal? Are you actors? Or do you do doll theatres?” Just when the girl with a low ponytail was about to tell you that they do magic shows, her brother explained “Yes, you can say we are kind of like actors. We actually have a show coming up this Saturday, could you like to come and see it?”. He was up to something. “Oh, I could love to, but I don’t know if I will be able to. We usually have a large amount of customers in the weekends so I should not dare to make promises.” you apologised, sadness can be seen in your eyes. Lyney was not fazed by that response and instead reassured “Oh well, if you aren’t sure if you will be available, we can save you a spot in the front, just in case.” He winked and waited for a response. You couldn’t possibly refuse such an invitation, and after all, this was a perfect opportunity to de-stress a bit. “I can see what I can do!” eyes lit with fiery determination and brows in a slight frown. Lyney thought it was adorable. “[name] I need some help, quit the chit-chat please!” you heard your brother yell from behind the café counter. “I’m coming right up! Goodbye!” and off you go. 

“Why didn’t you tell her we are magicians?” Lynette asked interested in what her twin had as an excuse. “Oh it’s not important! And, you know, I like the face of a surprise on my audience.” his smug half-lie could fool anyone, but not and her. “As you say..” the girl sighed and kept on walking alongside him.

“What did Mr. Lyney have to say to you?” Your brother looked at your back as you started walking off to the the back door. You turned around to face him “Wait, you know him too?”. “[name], what kind of a question is this? Who doesn’t know ‘Lyney, The Great Magician’?” he looked at you with crossed arms and a slight smile. “‘Lyney, the..’ no way.. THAT WAS LYNEY THE MAGICIAN??”

Tag list is open!

[fantasy-foods]

Elven Water

Difficulty: ★☆☆ (easy) Time: 2 minutes (prep), no cooking Categories: Drinks, High Fantasy Perfect for: Summer drink, short-notice one-shot Dietary requirements: contains lemon

Recipe below cut <3

Recipe

You will need:

Elderflower cordial (mine is homemade, which you can also make by following this or another tutorial, or alternatively buying it)

Mint leaves

Lemon juice

Water

Pour some cordial into your glass. The amount will very due to taste or size of glass, but roughly one sixth is a good rule of thumb, as it’s concentrated.

2. Fill the rest of the glass with water to dilute the cordial. If making a large batch (e.g a jug) you may want to lightly stir it at this stage, however it should mix evenly naturally. If you have bought ready-mixed elderflower juice, skip this stage and instead fill your glass.

3. Squeeze a few drops of lemon into your glass, again to taste. Don't go overboard!

4. Add a few (washed) mint leaves. If it's a particularly hot day, you could also add ice cubes.

5. Enjoy!

All images by me, please ask before using.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Late Shift (Danbrey)

The winner of the "creatures and people" prompt poll was: A vampire who works the night shift at a gas station

Anywhere else, Dani would get in serious trouble for adding fresh herbs to the donut case offerings at four-thirty am. 

Amnesty Lodge, with its attached gas station, does things a little differently.  For starters, the head cook at the Lodge restaurant refuses to let them sell the standard gas station snacks without adding a few of his own into the mix. Hence the fairly fresh batch of doughnuts that he dropped off fifteen minutes ago. Dani’s basil plant has been growing even wilder this year, and she worked out that a sprinkle of basil makes the lemon filled donuts–even the ones Barclay doesn’t make–taste a million times better. 

At least, that’s what customers tell them. Dani hasn’t eaten a donut since 1964. 

Even when Stokers Famous Tonic became mainstream, allowing vampires to eat human food without getting violently ill, it’s not always cheap to get your hands on. And Dani likes to save hers for the fresh fruit from the garden, or when Barclay wants a recipe tester or Mama invites her for an early-morning cup of tea. 

Or, if she plays her cards right, dinner with her favorite regular.

The door opens and the object of her dinner plans walks in, with far more energy than most humans have in the darkness of the morning. 

“Hi Dani!” Aubrey waves. She’s brightened the flame-orange streak in her hair since Friday, making the black curls around it shine like a raven in the sun. 

“Hi” Dani is relieved, not for the first time, that she can no longer blush, as Aubrey bends over to grab a Double Shot Oatmilk Monster Energy Coffee. She’s in her stage outfit, black dress jacket with studs sewn on the shoulders, and shorts and white dress shirt that look like someone ripped the arms and legs from a tuxedo. 

Aubrey looks over her shoulder with a smile and Dani pretends to find a spot on the counter to clean with her nail. 

“Just the usual please, if you’ve got it” The magician sets the drink on the counter. Dani grabs a waffle sandwich from the warming station; eggs, cheese, and hot sauce on a slightly sweet waffle, the kind Barclay makes in huge batches and then freezes. 

“We do. Did you just get back from a show?”

“Nope” Aubrey leans on the counter, allowing Dani to see the bra peeking through the dress shirt, “heading to one. They booked me for a big brunch show at some country club in Huntington but they want me there, like, super duper early. Oh, wait, do you have baby carrots today?” 

“Ummm” Dani glances at the chilled food display, “nope. Shipments are still kind of weird. Sorry.”

“Dr. Harris Bonkers will live without them. I’ve got other stuff to bribe him with to stay calm in the car.” She takes her change, but doesn’t move her hand right away. Instead she adds, “But you’re gonna owe him nose pets the next time he comes in.”

“I can handle that. Break a leg at the show.”

“Always do.” Aubrey gives her a wink and heads out into the parking lot, leaving her to rest her chin in her hands and sigh at the candy display.

—----------------------------------------------------------------

Aubrey’s totally going to do it. She’s going to ask Dani out when she stops for gas today. She’s made this promise to herself every day for the last two weeks, but gosh-darnit today she means it. 

Dr. Harris Bonkers, PhD, runs circles around her feet as she swipes on black lipstick and stamps on her eyeliner. 

“Just a sec buddy, I’m almost done.”

A honk in reply. 

“Look, if I had my way I’d spend all day petting you, but I need to get groceries and you’re not allowed in Leo’s after the banana incident.” She crouches down pets the rabbit’s nose, “but you’re coming with me tonight even though we don’t have a show. I’m gonna need emotional support for this. You gonna be my wingman?”

She moves her hand back a half-inch, and he immediately bumps it with his nose.

“Thanks doctor, knew I could count on you.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Dani is dumping blood orange syrup into the slushee machine when Aubrey walks in. The magician makes a bee-line for drinks, Dr. Harris Bonkers hopping behind her. The white rabbit is close to the size of a Corgi, sporting his black harness with flames on the sides as his claws click on the tile. 

Technically he’s not supposed to be in here, but Mama has never booted him when she’s spotted him inside the Lodge or the restaurant, and Dani figures people who are stopping for gas at eleven at night have more on their minds than complaining about a fluffy bunny. 

She heads over to the counter and Aubrey follows her, setting her Cherry Coke next to the sign for the Kepler Trunk or Treat. 

“That all for tonight?”

“Yep” Aubrey says a bit too cheerfully. She’s worrying the chain of her necklace, something Dani wishes she would do less or do much more, depending on how in control of herself she’s feeling that night. 

She has such a gorgeous neck. 

Oh no that’s too creepy. 

“Anything for the doctor?”

“Nah, he got an apple slice earlier–Dr. Harris Bonkers you put that down.” She disappears from view, reappearing with a pack of Double Bubble in hand. There are two, square teeth marks in it. 

“This too. Sorry, he really likes the smell of bubblegum.” 

“Silly bunny, that’s not for you. And don’t worry about paying for it, it’s like a buck and also Indrid will eat the stuff that didn’t get chomped.”

Aubrey laughs, “Thanks. Um, so, I’m doing shows at the Kepler Fall Festival this weekend. One at eleven and one at three. I know your schedule is probably weird because you work so late here but, um, I realized I’d never actually invited you to one of my shows. This one is going to be super freaking cool, I made up some Halloween tricks and everything. Do you know it’s weirdly hard to make a pumpkin disappear? Uh, anyway, just thought I’d ask.”

If Dani goes, there’s a very high chance she’ll get a serious sunburn. 

Aubrey smiles hopefully, the expression crinkling her nose and making Dani want to lean over and kiss it. 

“I’ll be there.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dani wasn’t at the first so, and with five minutes to go before the second one starts, Aubrey’s worried she won’t show. She so rarely sees the other woman around the Lodge during the day, like she sleeps through it, and it was silly of her to think she’d see her now.

She straightens Dr. Harris Bonker’s skull and crossbones tie, looks at the crowd and doesn’t see her.  So she straightens out her cuffs and looks again, 

Dani is there, in a seat in the back row. Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders, and she’s wearing a long, mint-green dress, brown boots up to her knee, lacy green gloves to her elbow, and is carrying a green and white striped parasol. She looks so cool and hot, how the hell is Aubrey supposed to focus on anything else?

Then again, Dani clearly made time to come see her perform. 

The festival emcee announces her name. So she strides out to give the best performance of her life.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dani is pruning her night-blooming jasmine when she hears it; the unmistakable sound of something munching her collards. 

“Hey Dani, have you seen-”

She holds up a hand to shush Barclay, “Can you see what’s making that noise at all?”

“Uhhhhh” the cook scans the beds, then raises his eyebrows, “unless my eyes are going, it’s Dr. Harris Bonkers.”

“What the hell?” Dani slips into the next row and finds Barclay is right; the massive rabbit is happily munching a big, green leaf without a care in the world.

“He must have hopped out the Lodge door.”

Barclay shakes his head, “Aubrey hasn’t been here since this morning, and I saw her leave with him in her arms. And her car isn’t in the lot now. He must have run away from home.”

Dani frowns, “Her apartment is three blocks from here. That’s a long ways for you to have gone, doctor.”

“C’mon little guy, let’s get you into the Lodge and give Aubrey a call. She’s probably worried sick.” Barclay bends down but the rabbit swiftly hops away, leaf still in its mouth. 

“He’s right, we–whoops” Dani makes a grab for him, but he darts between her legs. 

After ten minutes of failing to catch him, Dani is even more impressed with the fact Aubrey trained him for her act. Because if he doesn’t want to do something, there seems to be no way to make him do it. 

“Hang on, I have an idea. Stay here and make sure he doesn’t run into the woods.”

Dani looks around, then turns into a bat and zips across to the gas station, grabs a pack of gum, and runs back to the Lodge garden. She kneels and calls, “Doctor, look what I’ve got.”

The rabbit, done with it’s collard, sniffs the air and turns towards her. 

“It’s your favorite” She holds out the pack and the rabbit hops forward, bobbing now and then like he suspects a trap. Only when he gets his teeth on the wrapper is Dani able to scoop him into her arms. 

He snorts, annoyed, as Dani passes Barclay the gum, “can you toss that or give it to Indrid? I’n gonna go call Aubrey.”

Dr Harris Bonkers explores her room as Dani picks up the landline and dials. Three tries over fifteen minutes leads to nothing. Kepler is in the NRQZ; if Aubrey’s not at home, Dani’s going to have a hell of a time getting a hold of her. 

She keeps trying until it’s time to go to work, at which point she sticks the rabbit in a small laundry basket and carries him over to the gas station with her. After several attempts to get out, he calms when she gives him a few baby carrots and turns on the audiobook of Bunnicula on her phone (it helps her fall asleep).

Around midnight, the door dings and Aubrey walks in, looking more haggard than Dani’s ever seen her. 

“I” she sniffs, wiping her eye, “I was wondering if you’d maybe seen Dr. Harris Bonkers? He, he got out while I was asleep earlier and I, I looked all over the neighborhood and I can’t, can’t”

“Hey, fireblossom, it’s okay.” Dani hurries around the counter a tad faster than a human should, “we found him in the garden. He’s behind the counter.”

“Ohthankfuckinggod.” Aubrey collapses against her, hugging her, “I was so worried, thank you so much, I owe you, like, big time.”

Dani hugs her back, takes a deep breath, and says, “How about dinner tomorrow?”

Aubrey looks up at her and grins, “I was hoping you’d say that” she kisses her nose, “and it’s cute that you already have a pet name for me.”

“Look, I have a lot of free time during work and it’s more fun to think about you than rearrange the candy bars again.” Dani kisses her cheek, “here, the doctor is waiting for you.”

They find the rabbit lounging, legs out, as the story drifts from the nearby phone.

“You are in big trouble young man” Aubrey scoops him up and holds him tight, “you jerk, never ever scare me like that again. You’re lucky Dani found you and not a coyote. Or the Johnson’s cat.” She pauses, listening, “awww, Dani figured out your favorite book.” She smiles like a thousand stars as she says, “I loved that one as a kid. I’ve always been a big fan of vampires.”

Dani licks a fang and kisses Aubrey on the cheek again, making her laugh, “Then I have another really good piece of news for you.”

[mixergiltron]

Roll out the barrel.

While the title of my post is a traditional polka tune,don't worry,we're sticking to barrels as they relate to Tiki. Specifically,the drink known as the Rum Barrel. Created by Donn Beach,there have been many variations and riffs on the original to the point that it's anyone's guess exactly what the original recipe was. This is due to the fact that Donn didn't want his bartenders stealing his recipes,so he wrote them in code. So here's a pair of recipes and a modern riff to keep you rolling.

Mix #155 Rum Barrel

2oz white rum 2oz overproof Jamaican dark rum* 1oz orange juice 1oz pineapple juice 1oz grapefruit juice 3/4oz lime juice 1/2oz honey syrup 1/4oz grenadine 1/4oz allspice 1/4oz velvet falernum 1 dash Angostura bitters 6 drops absinthe

Blend with 6oz ice and pour into barrel mug.

*I used Smith & Cross.

I shook this because my Blendjet is still out of service. It's sweet and fruity with an absinthe aftertaste. It's also really strong. Those four ounces of rum(two overproof) pack a punch,and all that sweet will give you a blazing hangover if you're not careful. And you really don't taste the rum,so it's easy to get out of hand with these. Really probably a good idea to share this drink with a friend.

Mix #156 Print Rum Barrel

1oz dark Jamaican rum 1oz Lemon Hart 151 3/4oz pineapple juice 3/4oz lime juice 3/4oz orange juice 3/4oz passionfruit syrup 3/4oz simple syrup

Shake with ice and pour into barrel mug.

This came from a print I found on Tumblr. You see these on the web and for sale on Etsy. Their Mai Tai recipe is wrong,but I decided to give this a shot. It's sweet and citrus-y with the passionfruit coming forward. An ounce of 151 gives it some kick,but it's not as bad as some recipes which feature more rum. Actually a nice drink.

Mix #157 Bamboo Barrel

1oz white rum 1oz gold rum 1/2oz Demerara 151 rum 1oz pineapple juice 1oz lime juice 3/4oz grenadine 1/2oz passionfruit syrup 1/4oz allspice dram

Blend with ice and pour into mug.

Shook this one too. Created by Forbidden Island's Justin Oliver,it has a nice sweet/tart flavor with the grenadine coming forward and the 151 adds a good kick. Quite good.

So keep on rollin' folks. Follow these recipes and you'll do it right.

[athena-cat-wizard-official]

drop the recipe for your devious potion

100 mL milk

1 scoop gamersupps pineapple flavor

1 full can monster energy pipeline punch

250 mL fireball whiskey

3 shots tequila

100 mL cough syrup

100 mL Hartmann's solution

mint to taste

lemon juice to taste

1 raw egg

crushed ice

[chocolatechiphanncakes]

my toxic trait is multiplying the recipe for a green tea shot or lemon drop by like 5 so i can drink them like a cocktail

[feathery-dreamer]

Yogurt Cake

The thing I love about it, is that yogurt comes in individual portion pots and you use those pots as measuring cup! Here's the recipe first (picture from Wikipedia article) then we'll get to my story.

The Recipe

The ingredients: plain yogurt (preferably whole milk), flour, sugar, oil, eggs, yeast (or raising powder), lemon rind. Some recipes replace the oil with butter, using cornstarch instead of flour makes it lighter. You may add fruits in pieces or juice, chocolate, spices, rhum, or vanilla sugar.

The instructions: Pour the yogurt into a mixing bowl, then use the yoghurt pot to quantify; 1/2 measure oil, 2 measures sugar, 3 measures flour. Add 2 or 3 eggs per pot of yoghurt and 1 packet of baking powder. Flavor with vanilla sugar or lemon juice. Butter a mold and pour the mix inside, let it rise 30 minutes and preheat oven to 180°C (356 °F, thermostat 6). Bake for 30 minutes, don't forget to cut with a knife halfway through the process so it doesn't burst.

My story

I was pretty severely sick since I got my Covid shot last friday, so I spent this week home and was going crazy with boredom. Two days ago I decided to go crazy and made this, I'm quite proud and it's almost fully eaten by now.

Funny thing is when I looked it up, actual recipe websites were like: "yOu wAnT soMe cOoKieS (not asking)" and "prOvE tO Us tHaT yOu’rE nOt a RobOt" (site didn’t work) and "here are fifteen different ads to fill up 9/10 of the space on your screen!" But then I checked Wikipedia and found an article that was like, "the yogurt cake is a staple of French cuisine, here are the ingredients and detailed recipe including proportions and the oven setting."

Since I had ample time and didn't wanna bother with the mixer's cord, I stirred everything with a fork and scraped the yogurt pot with a teaspoon! I also decided to use less oil than the recipe said because I wanted my first yogurt cake to be firm.

I started with the yogurt of course, 1/3 measure olive oil, and shredded rind of a half lemon (plus a couple drops of the juice that dribbled out). I added the sugar and mixed, then likewise with the flour, thus wrapping up the "dry" part of the batter.

I cracked two eggs into the bowl, buttered up the mold (anticipating the next step), and stirred baking powder in. Then I transferred the batter into the mold, sprinkled some currants (called "bird grape" in Turkish and "Corinth grape" in French), and left it to rise.

I'm quite pleased at how the lemon's subtle zest is complemented with the currant being chewy. It also isn't too greasy as I used less oil, you can eat it with your hands and wash them easily. My only issue is the crust was a bit dry in the first hours, but that's gone with some moisture.

[aalinaaaaaa]

Potion and Cauldron!

POTION - If potions exist in your WIP, give me a potion recipe!

Shot of Clarity — administered as a quick way of clearing the mind in times of high stress. Whether the mind is frazzled from trying in vain to find a particular item or studying for a long period of time, this shot offers a way of seeing things from a new angle.

Ingredients:

Juice from 1 fresh lemon

A handful of peppermint leaves (or mint)

200ml water

1 drop of juice from a crystal fruit (add more drops to enhance potency)

Method:

Put a handful of peppermint leaves into a bowl, followed by 200ml of hot water

Add the lemon juice and let the solution steep for a few minutes (cover with a lid)

Once steeped, add a drop (or more) of juice from a crystal fruit*

Drain the solution and serve in 20ml glasses

*Add 1 drop of crystal fruit juice before steeping instead of after for a less potent solution (ideal for children)

CAULDRON - Give me a fantasy food!

It would only be fitting here to talk about the crystal fruit (known also as archorde [ar-shor-d] in Helindian).

This fruit comes from two species, one that grows as bushes and reproduces through producing runners (like strawberries), the other developing as a convex protrusion that pushes outward until the fruit literally bursts into smaller fragments. These fragments spread and create further protrusions, making the surroundings look like it's littered with crystals (hence the name).

The fruit itself is very, very sweet, but also extremely potent with magic. For this reason it is used as a magic source/amplifier in potions. It can also be used in cocktails and similar drinks to mask the taste of alcohol. Tie it with another ingredient and it can be used to enhance recipes (and also to add enchantments).

As a final note on it, it is also famed for its use in poisons. This fruit is what creates the signature taste of Morilast's Concoction, an ineffably sweet poison that is quoted to either "make you or break you." (It is to be noted that it has a key ingredient which renders it a part of legend, so any imitations of it are typically known as Filachroste (fill-a-shrost)).

[candyatkins]

Lemon Drop Shots Recipe Vodka and lemon juice are combined to create a lemon drop shot. It has sugar on top, making it into a sweet-and-sour party beverage that tastes exactly like the candy.

[inknopewetrust]

𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

summary: the decisions we make lead us to where we are supposed to be.

pairing: Marc Spector x Fem!Reader; Steven Grant x Fem!Reader; word count: 6.3k

warnings: spoilers for episode 6; angst, violence, suggestive material.

quick links: Masterlist // Part I // Part II

“So where do these go?” 

The pot sizzled on the stovetop, the small kitchen around you was filled with a delightful steam and the smell of a veal mixture and chicken cooked on low suffused your senses. 

“Where does what go?” 

Marc had been peering into the refrigerator looking for a lemon when you noticed the uncut onions on the counter. Under the yellow lighting of the small kitchen you shared, you pointed to the onions as you stirred the pot. 

“The onions.” 

Marc shot up from his bent position and all you heard was a ‘bang’ and the dishes that rested on top of it clatter. “Shit!” 

“You alright?” You asked as he rubbed the back of his head, coming to stand beside you–sans the lemon–and gazed down at the 3 onions that did not make it into the dish. Marc tipped his head in the direction of the pot. 

“They were supposed to be in there.” 

Inside that kitchen, your realization could have been felt beyond it. Onto the street four stories below and inside a cab driving past with tourists not even realizing they past an apartment building. Marc saw your eyes grow wide, the spoon stopped moving and your mouth dropped open and repeated the same word he had just exclaimed in pain. 

“Shit!” 

Marc couldn’t help but laugh. He did not have enough fingers to count the times where an item neglected to find its way into a recipe. As his head throbbed, he found the cure in your charming defeat. 

Knocking the spoon a few times on the side of the pot, you moved around him and grabbed the onions before putting them back into the basket that held extra potatoes and one squash that sat in the corner where the counter met the wall and nothing more. You turned around, leaning your back against the edge of the same counter, laughing with a hand covering your face. 

“Every time!” You cried, not in sorrow but in ridiculous irony. “Every time your dad comes over I mess it up. We should just go over there from now on.” 

Marc could not disagree with your statement–you did mess up a breakfast, lunch, or dinner every time you had guests over and most common was when his dad stopped for dinner. But Marc would also argue against going over to his father’s house. Not only for the poor memories that would always be associated with it, but Marc liked having his father in a space he could control–or at least one he knew like the back of his hand. The only thing that kept it from falling apart was you and he knew his father could see it, which is why he appreciated that his father always offered to come to the apartment you shared. 

His mother, however, never came. She also never asked Elias about Marc or you when he returned. 

“It’s fine, baby.” Marc reassured you, moving the slightest to face you, put his hand on yours to see your face as you tried to shield it. 

“But it’s every time… sooner or later he’ll see me for a fraud and he’ll know you helped with all of this.” 

“You cook fine. The food will be fine and just because it’s missing a few onions doesn’t mean its ruined… now if you messed up kosher laws…” He scolded with a smile, winking at you as you begrudgingly let him move the hand off your face. 

Marc didn’t look at you with pity for what you considered to be “destroying dinner” but an appreciation for still even attempting to put effort into an evening that could be solved with a quick run to a restaurant or his father could bring a dish to share. 

“Next thing you know I’ll do that too.” You said, keeping your head low and watching as Marc took your hands in his, letting his fingers intertwine with yours as he trapped you in the little corner of the kitchen. 

���I think I can trust you enough not to do that.” 

“I don’t know…” You voice was almost melodic, a smile creeping onto it as it always did when he took your hand in his. Just having him near was enough for you–sometimes Marc believed you felt differently but it was. He was gone so often that these little moments stuck in your memory for your own sanity’s-sake. 

The way he made you feel… it was special. 

A kind of love that transcended the world you knew and cascaded into the ones you didn’t; where the Earth stood still and nothing could break the bond except the smell of burning food on the stove. 

You furrowed your brows as you gazed at him when the smell hit your nose. Quickly letting go and pushing past him again, you stirred the pot with an audible huff and Marc’s laughter. 

For one night, everything was perfect in his eyes. Marc did not feel the weight of his past lingering on his shoulders or the need to protect himself. In this quaint little shoebox of an apartment on a street block in Chicago, he felt at home. 

“I’m going to make sandwiches next time. No cooking.” You scolded yourself as you stirred vigorously. 

Marc wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him but continued to let you stir. He kissed the side of your head, watching as the simmering pot calmed down and was saved from becoming inedible. 

“It looks perfect, even without the onions.” He quietly whispered in your ear. The feel of him in the crook of your neck caused your shoulder to scrunch into your chin, his laughter encouraging the feeling. “What? Don’t you like it when I praise you?” His words were suggestive, he knew that. 

“Now, I know I didn’t say that…” You replied, keeping your eyes on the pot but you felt his hands roam, hugging you and moving in a sway like motion against him. Marc’s cheek rested on your shoulder and he was tempted to do it again. 

“So…” He lifted his head up in the slightest motion and the sensation returned. “You don’t like it when I do this.” You pulled your shoulder away and tried to break free but he wouldn’t let you. 

“Marc I swear to God I will knock this over if you keep doing that.” 

“I’m not doing anything.” 

Sometimes that love aggravated you in the best of ways. 

“Do it again, I dare you.” You prompted him to try it again and he did against your better judgement. This time he let go of you after because he felt the retaliation coming but was unsure what it was. When your arms went up on defense, the spoon went with it and the red sauce from the pan flew across the kitchen and landed square on Marc’s chest–and his green shirt. 

The laughter stopped, the sizzling of the stove continued, the lone beep from a car outside filled the air as Marc looked down at you stared at his face, waiting for his reaction. 

“I didn’t– “You started and he cut you off. 

“This was the best you could do?” Marc pointed to his chest as he looked up. He watched as you tried to formulate an answer but your mouth couldn’t sound words so you shrugged. You saw his eyes calculate the situation and he resulted in holding out his hand, flexing it and looking at the spoon. 

“Give me the spoon.” You gazed down at the spoon in your hand, still full with a dripping sauce on the floor, and shook your head. 

“I think I’m good…” 

“Baby, give me the spoon.” He used the voice. The stern, commanding voice that he got when he returned from service years ago and used it when he 1. Wanted something and 2. Wanted something in the bedroom. You weren’t sure which one he wanted right now or if he was messing with you. 

“What are you going to use it for?” You stalled. 

“I didn’t say but give me the spoon and you’ll see.” 

“I rather like this spoon so I think I’ll keep it. Besides, it belongs in the–” You moved to put it back in the pot and Marc shot after you, making you squeal as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and grabbed the spoon from your hands without much effort. 

“Now, you got me all dirty it’s only fair I return the favor.” 

In a swift motion, Marc had twirled you around and wiped his finger on the spoon, gathering the sauce and dragged his finger across your cheek, lips, and chin. 

“See!” He exclaimed happily when he was content and saw your eyes narrow at him. “Now we match.” 

“I didn’t mess up your pretty face.” 

“No, but it gives me an excuse to do something…” Your eyes still narrowed, you knew exactly what Marc was going to do. He wasn’t a predictable guy, per se, but you knew him better than most. You licked your lips as he watched your tongue clean the sauce from them, his eyes entranced by the motion. 

“You know…” You spoke lowly, Marc leaning into you and encircling his arms on your waist as your arms around his shoulders and settling in the hair that curled on the back of his neck. You heard Marc drop the spoon the counter with a thud. “It’s not half bad without the onions.” 

You could hardly contain the smile when Marc’s lips met your own. The sweet savory-ness of the dish mixed with the taste of Marc was intoxicating. He breathed in deeply, taking every inch of you with him as he moved his mouth against yours and gripped onto you as if his life depended on it. 

But Marc also knew that his father was on his way. 

Marc broke the kiss after a few minutes and leaned his forehead against yours, listening to your shallow breathing as the world finally felt content to him. 

“It tastes perfectly, baby. Just like I told you it would.” 

You hummed, scratching the back of his neck gently with your nails. “I’m not that bad of a cook.” 

“No, you’re not.” He chuckled, pulling away even though he did not want to. He saw the red sauce on the rest of your face, the stain on his shirt, and glanced at the clock that read 6:27. 

“He’ll be here soon so go clean up, I’ll finish this, alright?” You nodded at him, letting your hands fall against his chest and avoid the stain. 

“Don’t forget about the lemon.” You reminded him and it was now his turn to nod. He let you pass, hearing you walk down the hall and into your shared bedroom where the distinct click of the bathroom light turning on sounded in the distance. 

“Get me a new shirt too!” He shouted after you but did not hear a reply. 

Marc assumed at the time that you had nodded to yourself in the mirror as you wiped away the sauce but he knew now that wasn’t the case. The second after you turned on the light the world had changed for him, but also for you and his father. 

In the hallway outside of the apartment, a wine bottle crashed to the floor but couldn’t be heard through the door. Marc’s father had just nearly arrived when the snap occurred. Down the hall from him, you had just flipped on the light. You didn’t even make it to the sink when all he found was an ash-like substance on the tile floor. 

Marc never ate dinner that night. 

The earth rattled underneath your feet as the God took hold. 

Never had you experienced such a sensation. 

Your body overtaken, your soul intact yet bruised from the voice that now directed your actions. There was a fear that perhaps this choice was the wrong one, but Thoth was not Khonshu. 

As the dust settled from Harrow’s rapture, Thoth had assumed his avatar within you. And although you were the same, you felt different. You gazed down at your hand covered in gold armor, a black fabric coolly settling onto your skin as it nearly glinted in the shallow moonlight that snuck in through the cracks in the pyramid. 

Is this what it felt like to be a God? Or, to at least be associated rather closely with one. 

You felt powerful. The kind of power that you did not know existed in the form that entered you, but in the oddest of ways, it felt fitting. The person you were as a child to teen to adulthood had not prepared you for this; but no one was ever prepared to be called upon in service of a God or to protect the things they loved most. 

From what you gathered, Khonshu gave Marc a second chance at life, perhaps now a third, and maybe Thoth had given you one too. 

Not rising from death in the same service; being guided through life with an extra hand on your shoulder that pushes you to be better, do good, and help the world in more ways than one. 

“I sense a kindness within you.” 

Thoth’s voice boomed above you. The God hadn’t been ‘inside’ as you believed. He had just extended a piece of himself into you as a form of protection. As you served as his living body, he watched from above, below, and every moment beside you. 

“You make it sound like a bad thing.” You gazed up at him, no longer scared of his non-human features. It had irked you at first–the bird-like creature that manifested larger than the normal person but you had to remind yourself you lived in a world where an alien made half of the population disappear, one where Marc was the avatar of another God and hid it from you for years upon your return to this life. 

“When you are fighting Ammit, kindness doesn’t often succeed.” 

“Then why choose me? Huh?” You shrugged, holding your hands out from your body and realizing that the outfit was heavier than you imagined. The black fabric intertwined with the gold to make a suit of pure power and radiance­­–and then you looked down at your chest–a band of emeralds fitted the suit below your chest and along your neck, shimmering in the low light. “Being a good person is obviously not enough to defeat evil, so what was the point of choosing me? Just because I set you free?”

“Kindness drives a person, as yours does you. If what the Gods have said of you is true, then having you as my avatar is my honor.” 

“What the Gods have said of me? They watch us?” 

“Every God does.” 

“And I suppose you can’t say what they’ve said?” 

Thoth laughed, booming and loud. “You can see the emeralds? Remember them as pieces of judgement. The color green is now part of you in ways it is not with others and when the time of your own comes, these will protect you.” 

“My judgment? You mean death. Enchanted emeralds, Gods of many cultures watching over us all…” You mumbled, looking down into the gleaming stones once more and catching your reflection. “I am not cynical but, sometimes I think I’m going a little crazy.” 

“You’re not going crazy, my dear, just opening your eyes to how the world truly is.” 

“And this is how the world truly is? That everyone has a God who speaks to them and becomes a… superhero… in its presence.” 

“I do not know of this ‘superhero’ that you speak of but you are an avatar. My physical hand in this world and through me, you will see what the others around you have too. Those good and evil forces this world contains and how we judge based on those actions.” 

“We, we, we… I didn’t ask for this, you know. Anything that’s happened to me really.” You moved away from Thoth as the candlelight still held strong. “What of the judgement when my world was thrown upside down years ago? Did you all have something to do with the people who disappeared?” 

Thoth sensed an anger within you. The force that caused the shift in population was ungodly. 

“No…we did not. That was a titan, not a God. There were plenty of good who disappeared and plenty of bad who stayed. Harrow, he stayed, as did Marc. Here were are trying to fight evil with the good that maintained and the good that is created now.”

A rumble of stone collapsing sounded not far from you. As if you immediately believed the sound was Harrow coming to recapture you in chains, Layla’s voice called out. 

“Y/n!?” She repeated your name a couple of times as Thoth shifted around you. The God knelt down, put his beak in your face and for the first time in the minutes since you became partners in this life, you felt that there was a kinship between you. Before today, you weren’t certain you had ever heard of the God. 

“Marc Spector needs you. You bring him peace, I saw it in his book, remember that while the world challenges you.” 

Thoth was gone in a puff of smoke as Layla appeared in the chamber. 

At first, all of what either of you could do to one another was stare. Here, in this chamber where your paths crossed for the first time not more than an hour before, both of Marc Spector’s loves stood–anxious and heartbroken, united and strong. Layla was in white and gold, a scarlet scarab on her collarbone and no true identification of the God who had chosen her as an avatar–but you knew it was not Khonshu. She looked at you the same way, curious and calculating. The woman who appeared captured by Arthur Harrow and connected to Marc in ways she still wasn’t sure. 

Layla still loved Marc. She was still married to Marc. But Layla knew Marc had his secrets and that would be another tally on her list on why Marc was not the best husband. 

“So…” Layla said breathlessly from her run to you. You nodded, taking in a shaky breath as the realization that a fight lay ahead of you unlike anything you had experienced before. The most exercise you ever got was the weekly kickboxing class you took because Marc had convinced you to for your own protection. 

“Who’s your God?” It felt like a strange question to ask but in the context of things, it surely wasn’t. 

“Taweret.” 

“Oh.” You did not know what God that was and Layla could tell. 

“Taweret.” She repeated, walking closer to you and taking in your suit that appeared when Thoth assumed you as his avatar. “Goddess of childbirth and fertility, but she has a significant impact on those trying to pass into the afterlife.” 

Childbirth and fertility. Fitting for the woman who was married to your Marc.

You hummed in understanding, observing her as well. She nodded after she was done and gave you a small smile. Layla was a good woman. She didn’t deserve your ire for what happened during the five years you were gone–it just stung. 

“Thoth is a good God, a respected one…” She trailed off, trying to find the right words to use in your presence. “I had to think quickly but I think it will be a good fit with Marc and Khonshu.” 

“And you?” 

“Taweret is pretty sweet on her own.” 

“Layla…” 

The woman shook her head, smiling as if she knew what you would say without speaking much of anything. 

“Marc and I… we have a complicated relationship. His lifestyle, his secrets… not every part of him is meant for me. I don’t know you or your relationship with Marc but I know when love exists. I love him, I always will, but if we’re going to do this… I want you to know where I stand with him. He knows that too.” 

“I trust you, Layla. But I think this conversation should include him too. His faults aren’t our responsibility to sort out.” 

Layla knew she liked you. Marc liked strong women and while you weren’t the same, the similarities were there. 

“And now he needs us to save his ass.” She laughed and you responded in kind. No matter what happens in the moments to come, you thought to yourself, you hoped you had a friend for life in Layla. 

“So, what do you say…” She nudged her shoulder into yours and looked down the narrow hallway to the exit. “Time to save Marc?” 

You nodded and smiled. “What would he do without us?” 

You didn’t know she would be able to fly. 

The two of you had been running for about a mile and suddenly, Layla noticed the purple emitting from the top of a pyramid disappear. Your attention had been diverted by the massive God’s fighting above you and threating to squish anything in its path as their thundering steps shook the Earth. 

“I am going to see if I can find them! Keep going in this direction!” She pointed ahead of her and her suit shot metal wings from her shoulder and she was gone like a soft wind. You could not believe your circumstances in that moment. 

You were running, alone, in the desert of Egypt trying to get away from massive Gods ready to squash you like a grape and going toward danger as your life-long partner was an avatar of a God that was trying to do good in the world by eliminating evil people who committed terrible acts. 

It all made so much sense–if you compromised that this was all a dream and you’d wake up in a minute softly laying in your bed. 

But you also couldn’t believe that. 

There were Gods fighting above you. Your mind was in shambles trying to reconcile that. 

“Keep going.” Thoth spoke to you but did not appear. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” You spat as you panted heavily. The sand made it difficult to run. 

“Girl has a bite.” Thoth scoffed as his presence disappeared from you. Above you, the Gods stomped and suddenly, in front of you, Layla landed after disappearing no more than a minute before. 

“Fuck!” You shouted as she scared you, stopping you in your tracks so fast you slid against the sand. 

“What a kind greeting.” 

“You scared me, that’s all.” You bent over, catching your breath and heaving heavily as you prepared yourself to continue on. “Did you find them?” 

“In the town, you won’t make it on foot.” 

“Then you go and help him.”

Layla laughed, grabbing your arm and instructing you to hold onto the back of her suit. 

“You are coming with. I think Marc would be happy to see you… this hasn’t been easy and he won’t expect you.” 

“Yes, a surprise is just what he needs right now.” 

“Grab on, don’t let go no matter what.” She told you and right before she took off with you attached, her eyes went wide.  “Do you know about Steven?” 

“Steven?” 

“Marc’s…” She tried to find the right word again. “Alter. Or the only one I know of at least.” 

If there is one thing Marc had ever shared with you that you kept closest to your heart, it was the fact he had tried so hard to keep his life to the standard of normal society told him to have. His alters didn’t fit that standard and that brought more pain to his already traumatic life. He claimed he could control it and the day he had truly broken; it was the moment he had prepared you for. 

His mother’s Shiva, the moment where he cracked and couldn’t control it anymore.

Marc told you to let him go–that it would hurt more knowing that he wouldn’t recognize you when an alter took control of the body. When that moment happened you listened to what he wanted but not what he needed. Maybe he wouldn’t have disappeared to London if you had acted on what he needed instead. 

“Yeah… a little bit.” You told her and felt that even ‘a little bit’ was an exaggeration. You didn’t know Steven but she did. 

“They’re a funny pair, those two. You’ll like him.” And as she lifted off of the ground with you holding tightly to her, Layla said: “I think Steven’s got a crush on me too.” 

Layla dropped you behind a row of buildings as she perched above it. 

On her cue, she said she would fly down and you could attack from behind–whatever that meant. You had to go with what your instincts of what it meant to be a hero contained. 

At the ground level, there were supports of Harrow and civilians everywhere. As you frantically looked around for the nearest exit to the scene of the action, you shooed at people to go away, run as fast as they could. They listened, those who wanted to leave, and fled the area. Mothers taking their children, families fleeing as fast as they could. 

Between two buildings, a street led you to the center of it all and a blinding purple light sent Arthur Harrow flying past you. In the direction that he flew from, Layla stood over Marc who was amazed to see her there–and he followed by rising to his feet and hugging her tightly. 

Your heart squeezed tighter at the sight. 

And then his outfit changed and the sound of his voice was loud and English–the British kind and the same one that you heard when his control slipped on the cobblestone street of Chicago. 

Steven.

Around you, Harrow had regained his posture and his supporters cocked their guns in preparation. Steven and Layla began making their way toward you, the former of which had yet to notice you in the shadows. 

You began disarming the men around you as quickly as you could. Using the skills you had learned in the classes and the ones that came with Thoth’s guidance, you were rather good at it without realizing it. Layla helped cut through the supporters as Steven used a pair of batons to fight the men and then he threw one at Harrow. 

As Harrow prepared to block it, he held his staff upright and blocked it with a swing of the staff. You took the chance ran up behind Layla and Steven before Steven had the opportunity to catch it in return. You felt the metal in your hands and slowly lowered it before handing it back to Steven. 

When you turned to see Steven, it was no longer Steven looking at you but Marc. 

There was nothing the world could do to prepare you for that moment. Seeing his glowing eyes in your direction when he least expected you to be there. You weren’t scared of him in the suit or the actions he was taking because you knew he needed to do it, and in a way, he realized you were there to help him too. 

Marc saw the way Layla looked proudly at you–knowing she had a part in this too. 

You extended the baton to Marc. 

“I heard you needed a little help.” 

He wanted to kiss you but he couldn’t. So, all Marc said was: 

“Maybe just a little.” 

And all three of you looked down to Harrow knowing the end was near. He would not make it out of this fight a winner. 

Every man that was fighting for Harrow gave up easily. After the first was down from your hand, it made each following man easier to forget about. You knew your purpose and Thoth was the finally judgement, not you. Your hands did not kill. 

You weren’t sure if either of the two noticed that, but Harrow did. His staff never wavered toward you as if he knew that your purpose was not that same as the others. You let them keep the lead and fight him directly while you focused on the followers that never stopped coming. 

In the town center, you helped pile innocent civilians into a van but Harrows judgment was pointed in your direction. 

“Layla! Marc!” You shouted as they pushed him closer and closer and the glow began to shake the van. You weren’t sure what to do but you ushered those who were outside of it away and down the street. Layla was the first to help with the other civilians as Marc dealt with Harrow. 

“You alright?” Layla asked and it was from the fear she saw on your face. This was not your world. It may have been her and Marc’s but it wasn’t yours. 

“Fine. I’m fine!” You repeated as if you were trying to convince yourself. 

“What do we do, Layla? How can we stop someone like him?” 

“We just have to keep trying, Y/n. We have to.” 

“But what if we can’t” 

It was when doubt settled that the tides often shifted. You could see Khonshu above the buildings falling to the ground. Marc was trying to hold of Harrow but one of his crescents came flying and captured Layla’s arm onto the van. 

She tried to break free but couldn’t. 

Where do you all go from here? 

Harrow approached Marc as he laid still in the rubble. His staff held high, Harrow pushed it down and into the crest of Marc’s suit that shot a purple beam into the night sky. Around you, the same men who you had not killed rejoined the fight with their weapons aimed high and firing. Layla covered her face with the wings Taweret gave her but Thoth gave you nothing of the sort. 

A bullet pierced you in the abdomen and you fell against the van before crumbling to the floor. 

You didn’t know how Thoth worked. 

But you looked at Marc because you didn’t know how much time left and he was already looking. 

He could see your breath catch in your throat and your eyes start to water. You weren’t going to die but seeing you in pain, seeing Layla in pain, it pushed him over the edge. 

The line of where Marc began and who committed the violence that took place in that square was thin and invisible.

Words could not describe what you witnessed.

Pure, unbridled rage emitting from a man who had demons and chose to act on those in a similar fashion.

Marc Spector was not in control, neither was Steven Grant.

It scared them both. In a body where an uncertainty of control had teetered before, they believed themselves to be two halves of a whole yet experienced a near-out-of-body experience where neither assumed control.

They were floating; free falling into a pit of despair against an enemy within.

Marc was the first to get control of the body. His eyes were frightened, terrified that what he had done was beyond all of his capabilities—and in some ways, he was right. Marc could see the flames. The flames of destruction and death littered around him like trash and nothing more.

The lives were worthless.

And the one he held in his trembling hands was ready for judgement.

The staff stuck of our Arthur Harrow’s skull. Half wedged between bone and muscle, it hadn’t been enough to kill him but incapacitate and disarm. Harrow wasn’t the threat, the body Marc and Steven shared was.

Marc put Harrow on the ground, not-so-gingerly taking the staff out of his skull and leaving the man to remain there unconscious. He looked around at the destruction as his vision cleared from the destructive haze. There were two pairs of eyes on him: Layla and you—the former still pinned to the van and you were still sitting on the ground but no longer holding your abdomen. You were fine. Whatever God was looking after you was doing it well.

But both you and Layla stared at him with curious eyes.

He was reminded again that whomever did this… it wasn’t someone he knew as he did Steven and as Steven knew him.

“That wasn’t you, was it, Steven?” Marc asked, witnessing his destruction. In a seconds time, Steven took control of their body and observed the same chaos.

“Not a chance, Mate.”

Layla broke herself free and held out a hand to you. You gladly took it and rose to your feet without an ounce of pain other than sore muscles. Thoth worked wonders, he did. She looked at you and the blood that had yet to dry where the bullet had gone through.

“I’m fine, Layla. Really.” You reassured her with a smile and walked over to Steven who was watching.

“It wasn’t you, Steven.” It was the first time you had ever held a conversation with him. It was as though you were looking at Marc but not truly. The body was the same but the mannerisms were different. His brow wasn’t tightly creased and his fists weren’t clenched. Marc always looked as though he was ready to pounce on the world but Steven looked scared to even touch it.

Steven nodded, glancing at Layla before looking again at you. “You must be Y/n.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, giving him the same soft smile you did Layla. “I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you Steven.”

Layla had made herself present in the conversation by calling out to Marc and it gave you the first opportunity to see Marc take control. You blinked and it was the man you had grown to love, but he was concerned and hurt and tired.

“What the hell was that, Marc?” Layla asked him with a scorned voice. She didn’t mean to be judgmental but the unknown scared her too.

“I don’t know.” Marc shook his head and looked at her, then you, and finally realized the weight of having you here. He reached his hand out, caressing the right side of your face with eyes that screamed sorrow. “I blacked out.”

Behind the three of you, Ammit had taken Khonshu by the collar of his linens and dragged him away from the scene. With Harrow nearly defeated, Ammit remained the final chapter to close.

“Get Harrow.” Layla said, sternly looking at Marc as if he created this problem. Marc had much blood on his hands but Harrow’s choices were his own. “I know how to stop Ammit.” She picked up Marc’s batons and the staff.

“We have to finish this, Marc.” Your voice was less harsh. Layla had chosen this path, chosen to be part of this life and had always been because of her father but you, you were never supposed to see this side of Marc. What time had made of him. You looked at him with the same adoring eyes he remembered waking up to every morning until the world changed and they were gone. But his healing began now and it started with redemption from Harrow’s defeat to leaving Khonshu behind.

“You don’t have to do this. I know you certainly weren’t brought here on your own free will.” Marc stepped closer, closing the space between you as Layla started off to the pyramid.

“But I chose to be here for you.” Here for him in this Egyptian square so far away from home. “And I think there are some things we need to talk about, huh?”

Yeah. That double life he has been living.

Marc knew you knew. There was no way that could have gone unsaid with Layla present.

“I don’t need to know now… but I need you to be honest with me when the time comes, alright?”

“Yeah, baby. I will.” Marc was sincere and you could see it in his eyes. Whatever he had been keeping from you spanned beyond Layla and his job, but his own mindset and the help he needed to heal. Marc dropped his hand from your face, letting it trail down your arm and through your finger tips before letting go.

“I can’t lift that man alone, so, what do you say, Marc Spector or… Steven, whoever wants to help. Let’s end this huh?”

Maybe it was because Marc was shaken from the events of his blackout that Steven appeared to in a his very different suit. It surprised you when you saw him speak to Layla earlier because it was a literal suit.

“I suppose we better get this off to Layla then!” Steven handy truly been known to you until moment ago and he already had stolen your heart. Every part of Marc you loved, Steven would be no different.

As you knelt down to pick up Harrow by his feet, you looked up at Steven and he caught your eye.

“What? Is there something on my face?” His accent was so strong. You gave him a shy smile and shook your head.

“I assume Marc is always there…?” You weren’t an expert on how it worked, you weren’t trying to be, but something told you the answer may have been yes.

“Yeah, in a way.”

“Can he hear me?”

Steven nodded, bending down to your level as you both prepared to move Harrow.

“I love you.”

Steven knit his eyebrows together and have you a look that made you think of how people look at puppies. The sickening cute ‘awe’ and adoration soon to follow.

“Well he says that ‘of course you’d do this now and that he loves you too’ but he had an attitude about it.” Steven said in response and you chuckled, grasping Harrows ankles.

“I would have expected nothing less.”

Tag List // CLOSED

@slytherheign  @alotofsomething @milkiane @daddysfavoritesexkitten  @silvery-luna @marasmixers  @yesraazzi  @spideysimpossiblegirl @ohmygodsebastianstan @trash-panda99 @teamspideyman  @mahaloapollo @butterflyheart-me @n1ght5h4d3-24 @sarvhrt @le3h4 @thelaststraw3 @rellasnowheenim @xoxoloverb @mellomadness @louloudeug99  @wolfire20808 @superbreadsoul @nervouslaught3r @dylsneha @cleverzonkwombatsludge @delicatespiritualitysciencebat @i-still-dont-like-your-face @mads-weasley @dreag214 @child-of-the-moon-gods @luvwanda @rqmanoff @that-0ne-simp @grandmentalityfest @mayafatimakhan @1-800-vader @vaIntyne94 @madnpan

[awesomerextyphoon]

Cozy by the Fire

Summary: You and your winter loves enjoy a nice evening by the fire.

Pairing: Stucky x Plus-Sized Female Reader

Rating: 18+ / Mature

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Kissing, Implied Smut, People Being Assholes

A/N: This is a request from @saiyanprincessswanie​. We’re pulling for you, girl! Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​.

Masterlist

“How do I look?” you asked twirling around in a Butterscotch sweater dress with a thick black dress belt. It was your boys’ favorite and you wanted to treat them to something special.

“Amazing!”

“You’re just saying that, Wanda.” Wanda telekinetically placed the last of the food on the table.

Somehow, you were able to convince Wanda to help you bake enough Butter Toffee Chunk, Glazed Lemon Ricotta Cookies, Black and White Spiral, and Peanut Chocolate Chunk Cookies to celebrate the Holidays since no one had the time (no one wants to go to the shed). You even spiked their hot chocolate with a few drops of Asgardian Mead (they love the kick).

“I’m not! You look amazing and those boys are damn lucky! Nat would totally agree.”

“Alright, alright,” you acquiesced, “Thank you so much, Wanda.”

“No problem,” Wanda waved the compliment, “They’re closing in, so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks again!”

Wanda barely levitated out of your quarters before you heard their powerful footsteps.

“Ugh, fuck doll, is this for us?” Bucky exclaimed as he eyed the table.

“Of course!” you replied as you pulled him in for a kiss.

“You didn’t have to, sweetheart.” Steve pouted interrupting your passionate kiss with Bucky.

“Well, you said you missed having cookies by the fire during the holidays and I wanted to surprise you.”

“All of this for us, huh?” Steve asked incredulously eyeing the medley of luxurious Honey-Tenderized Boeuf Bourguignon, Creamy Mashed Potatoes, Spicy Honey Fried Chicken, Hearty Lasagne, Texas BBQ Brisket, Baked Ziti, and BBQ Ribs.

“I thought you would be hungry.” you reasoned smirking at their growling stomachs.

“Looks like you were correct.” Bucky conceded eyeing the lasagne.

“So, Wanda?” Steve inquired grinning at you lowering your head in embarrassment.

“Yes, but she used my recipes,” you huffed, “C’mon let’s eat before it gets cold!” you exclaimed skipping (yes, you read that right) towards the food.

“What did we do to get blessed with an angel like her?” Bucky wondered wrapping Steve in a side hug.

“I don’t know, Buck. I don’t know.” Steve cooed into Bucky before kissing him.

  It all started with probably one of the worst jokes by some of your former classmates. Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming.

Natalie, your former college dorm mate, told you that Jacques Becker, your college crush and total babe, was interested in you. Anwen, your best friend, said to get over it, but you couldn’t quit the fantasy.

You put on your best clothes, actually putting makeup only to have him text you saying that he would be a few minutes late. It was okay for the first twenty minutes, you chalked up to bad weather. Then twenty became fifty, eighty, and so on.

After two hours, the bartender passed you a shot of bourbon on the house. Your eyes started to well up with tears.

He stood you up.

To make matters worse, it was pouring outside and you forgot your umbrella. You made it about 10 yds (9.144m) before you tripped on an uneven sidewalk.

A flash of light went off, but you ignored thinking it was a car.

  To your absolute horror, Jacques posted the whole thing as a prank on Instagram. You could barely make eye contact at your place of work.

As if you needed another reason for everyone to hate you. You already felt out of place with everyone looking down at you for your apparent ‘lack of talent’ and ‘slovenly aura’ (?).

Patricia, your ‘hot’ co-worker, smirked at you while sharing the video with the whole floor knowing full well you wouldn’t do anything. Both your supervisor and the head of HR were always on her side and she knew this job was the best you were gonna get in this economy.

You went home in tears that day. Luckily, Anwen and Caterina came over for emotional support.

  It wasn’t until you decided to leave the house for a junk food run to Trader Joe’s did your luck change. You were in the mood for Sweet Plantain Chips and Scandinavian Swimmers and seriously need the pick-me-up. You were three blocks away when you bumped into someone.

Apologizing profusely, you raised your head to find the person was Wanda Maximoff, one of the Avengers. She was also having a shitty day if the puffy red eyes and tear streaks were any indications.

You handed her a tissue and recommended a bakery a few blocks away. You told her to mention your name and they’ll give her some free sweets.

You had worked there a few years back and created half the menu, so it was no big deal.

She thanked you for your kindness and discretion and went on her way.

You felt a little better making someone else smile.

  Unlike most people, you were satisfied with making an Avenger smile, which is why you stopped dead in your tracks while you were in the recommended cafe three months later.

Wanda, the Scarlet Witch, barged into the cafe with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes in tow. She insisted they try the cinnamon rolls.

The crowd parted in semi-reverence; some people took out their phones, someone even bowed (why?). Imani, the barista and an old acquaintance, almost dropped an espresso order at the sight of them.

You couldn’t blame her. They were the two of the most beautiful men on the planet towering over everyone in the bakery.

Wanda was about to leave when she spotted you in the corner booth. You wanted the ground to swallow you up you were so anxious. You didn’t need another reminder of how inadequate you are.

No one will ever desire a fat loser with no talent despite what your friends and sisters say.

So it came as a surprise that the two Adonises waved and strode towards you. Steve asked if you were the one who came up with the Butter Toffee Chocolate Chunk recipe.

You almost cursed yourself for your brain short-circuiting when Linda, the manager, finally got out of the restroom to proudly confirm that you came up with half of the menu. She even offered a tray of some of your creations.

Bucky grinned and said that the whole compound raved at goodies Wanda would bring during missions.

You peeped a thank you for the praise not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself.

Both of the devilishly handsome men chuckled and hoped they would see you again.

You smiled knowing that’ll never happen though you didn’t fail to feel the sorrow carve itself into your heart.

  Your sorrow was short-lived.

Somehow one of them slipped a piece of paper with Steve’s number on it.

You stared at it for what felt like hours thinking that if you blinked it would disappear.

You didn’t tell anyone, not even Anwen or Caterina.

You didn’t know if it was another prank; if it would end up like last time. But maybe, just maybe, they were being sincere.

With a huff of newfound confidence, you said fuck it and dialed the number.

  You were glad you did.

Being with Steve and Bucky has been nothing but a wonderful dream. They were incredibly attentive and loving, always giving you words of encouragement, leaving little gifts around your apartment, and not laughing at your dreams.

Especially after the ‘scandal’.

It seems that the fact that either Captain America or the reformed Winter Soldier wanting anything to do with a ‘fat slob who promotes an unhealthy lifestyle’ is baffling to the masses.

The tabloids and internet were strewn with horrible pictures of you from high school and college. The ‘prank video’ resurfaced to your ever-mounting shame. No matter where you went, you couldn’t escape the jeers, especially at work.

The final straw was when Patricia snatched your lunch and threw it in the trash and declaring that you didn’t need to eat such ‘fattening junk’ since you were already ‘ ‘such a blimp’. The worst part was that no one came to your defense. Some even sneered; whether it was envy or disgust, it still devastating.

You didn’t leave your room for three days.

Nat rushed your sisters and friends to your apartment for an impromptu ‘girls night’. Nat and Tony made sure to have a ‘chat’ with the leaker, and your WW2 hero lovers made sure you felt extra loved when they returned from their mission.

So much so that you didn’t leave their quarters for a week.

You gave as much as you got which was hard, but you tried your best. You made baked goods for when they returned from missions. You comforted Bucky whenever he had a nightmare along with Steve, and you cheered Steve up whenever he felt remorse about the time he’s lost.

  “Fuck, that was amazing, angel.” Bucky sighed patting his satiated tummy.

They devoured the food because of course, your super soldiers would have black holes for stomachs.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“How did your interview go, sweetheart?” Steve inquired masking a burp with his fist.

“Well,” you stood and grabbed a piece of paper, “I got the job!!!” You squealed. You vowed to get a new job after the scandal deciding that you’ve had enough of your toxic workplace. So you decided to go after your dream job, a creative technologist at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Your father had dissuaded you from doing it earlier saying it was a ‘fanciful occupation’.

You wanted to get on your own despite both Tony’s and your lovers’ protests, not wanting the tabloids to have yet another reason to attack you. It took some time, but you got an interview after tacking down a lead through Linda’s friend’s cousin.

And after three months of lying in wait, you got the offer.

“Congratulations, doll!!” Steve resounded as he lifted you and twirled you around their quarter’s living room.

“We’re so proud of you!” Bucky exulted as he tossed you into the air.

“Bucky, please, no more!” you giggled. Tears streaming down your face from all the laughing.

Bucky acquiesced to your cries and set you down on an ottoman. Both super soldiers gave each other a sideways glance and grinned.

“What’s going on?” you asked, a bit put off by their sudden silence.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart.” Steve requested.

“Okay…”

“Stop laughing! We’re serious!”

“All right, fine!” you chuckled as you closed your eyes wondering what shenanigans they would pull.

You soon felt a weight on your chest and ears as both your Brooklyn boys kissed the juncture between your jaw and neck.

“Okay, open your eyes, angel.”

“Oh...why...why’d you do this?” you gasped at what was before you. Both of them were holding a mirror showing you wearing a Winter Princess Snowflake Pendant and a set of Sparkling Diamond Tassel Earrings.

It was the nicest thing anyone’s ever gotten you.

“We wanted this to be your Christmas present, but we thought it would be best for this occasion,” Bucky explained.

“Don’t worry. We’re--what’s wrong sweetheart?” Steve queried noting the tears welling up in your eyes hoping they weren’t being too forward.

“It’s just...thank you for being so wonderful!!” you peeped, unable to hold in your happiness anymore.

“We just want to take care of you, sweetheart. You’ve been so good to us.” Steve purred into your skin as he made a line of kisses from your cheek to your collarbone between each word.

“You’ve comforted us whenever we had a nightmare, left us affirmation notes, always making us feel loved and wanted. It means the world to us!” Bucky hummed as he leaned in for a soulful kiss.

And they meant it. So many women threw themselves at their feet, undeterred by the polite rejections. It got to the point that Tony had to screen the reporters after an undercover groupie tried to rush them.

You on the other hand actually cared about them, not the titles or the fame. You made them feel seen and they could never repay you.

“Thank you, doll. You’re our angel and there are no words that can describe how much you mean to us.” Steve declared.

  The rest of the evening was filled with your boys recounting tales from their childhoods, both of them taking turns being embarrassed.

Wanda had to rescue Sam a few times from being pummeled by Bucky for the crime of swiping some cookies from his pile even after you chastised him, but you couldn’t stay mad at him for long with those puppy dog eyes.

Both you, Wanda, and Nat pelted Tony for being obnoxiously off-key with his caroling.

All in all, it was a fun night.

  “Goodnight, Bucky, Steve,” you whispered laying between them by the fireplace under a luxuriously soft throw rug.

“Goodnight, angel.”

“I know he took my cookies.”Bucky started.

“Give it a rest, Bucky!” you hissed softly not wanting to have today be upended by Bucky’s pouting.

“Had to have been at least a dozen-”

“We made enough cookies to satisfy 50 people!”

“I’ll get him tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t. Because if you do, I’ll tell Tony what happened to his second favorite watch.”

“...Fine.”

“Good.” you ended smiling to yourself for never feeling so complete as this moment.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

i want dick grayson to be annoyingly perfect in the smallest of unimportant ways. and i want it to irritate the living hell out of everyone around him

every now and then, jason and dick will go to different chili dog carts around the city, and dick will sit and nod in agreement as jason nitpicks the food, occasionally offering his own two cents. the conversations are tense and if the topic strays from anything except food jason books it, but it’s progress, and dick’s grateful. but he doesn’t understand why jason always growls at him when he’s preparing his chili dogs, chalking it up to jason’s obsessiveness about that food in particular. dick figures he’s probably doing it wrong. until one day, jason bites out a rough question, asks him how he did that. dick’s confused, until jason points out, “you tear open the top of the ketchup packet in a perfect line every time. and you get all of the ketchup out of the packet in one smooth squeeze, and you never get any on your fingers, and i don’t understand how.”

roy was, arguably, a better archer than ollie. green arrow had been birthed from the island, from the trauma of survival. roy, however, had been practicing since he was a kid, and now that he was well into his twenties, he could safely say he was one of the best shots in the world. he could beat all his friends at darts, shoot an apple off wally’s head, and was generally pretty awesome. or, he would be awesome, if only dick fucking grayson would stop making every single shot of anything he threw in a trash can. no matter what he was throwing away, no matter the angle, no matter the wind or rain, as long as the trashcan was in eyesight, anything dick tossed would inevitably end up inside the garbage. sometimes, dick barely even glanced at the damn thing, just took note of it a threw the trash, expecting it to land in the proper place. and it always did. the worst part was, dick didn’t even seem to notice it. he wasn’t actively trying to make every shot. when asked, dick just shrugged and said “we had some pretty good knife throwers in the circus.”

tim’s memories starting out as robin were a whirlwind, a push-pull of bruce’s mistrust, then bruce’s acceptance, of dick’s fear and hesitation, then of dick’s love. he still remembered dick making the two of them hot chocolate in the kitchen after a day of training, tim’s muscles sore and entire body aching but the feeling of pride, because he was good enough to be robin, he knew he was. he hadn’t expected that to happen anytime soon again, given the way their relationship had fractured after tim had left dick’s batman, a terrified fury in his eyes. yet, he’d been proven wrong when, after a particularly rough arkham breakout, alfred asked both dick and tim to stay instead of returning to their own apartments. just because the manor brought back a feeling of warm nostalgia, however, doesn’t mean it kept the nightmares away. he came down to the kitchen and saw dick already up, moving around the stovetop. with a knowing look in his eyes, dick grabbed another mug to make tim some hot chocolate. tim was washed over with a feeling of relief, of acceptance. dick slid the mug towards him and tim took a sip, letting the rich chocolate warm him up from the inside. it was delicious. his little sigh of pleasure must have been audible, but then he remembered something he noticed. “dick. did you use alfred’s recipe for this?” and dick laughed, responded with, “nah. too much work. i just sort of tried to remember what was in hot chocolate, and eyeballed most of the ingredients. i’m glad it turned out good though. no clumps too, that’s good.”

donna didn’t care how old she got, playing in the park with dick never got old. as one of her oldest friends, the two of them could just walk around the park, in companionable silence, just letting themselves relax and enjoy the moment. so, of course, dick would break the silence and ask if she had any earbuds, because it was getting to quiet for him. donna laughed, and reached inside her pocket, fingered past the keys, and grabbed the headphones. the tangled little ball that came out made her sigh, and she pulled on an earbud to loosen it, only managing to make one of the many knots tighter. then, dick took the headphones out of her hands with a here, i got it, and with a few quick tugs, the tangled monstrosity unraveled easy as breathing. then, completely unaffected, he handed her an earbud, putting the other in his own ear. “i’m the one who’s got a lasso,” she said, ignoring dick’s snort and quip about how earbuds and a lasso are two completely different things, donna.

cass hadn’t expected to enjoy such a gentle, graceful form of athletics, but after a few lessons, it had become apparent that ballet could be far from gentle. it pushed her, made her practice and strengthen herself, and she’d fallen in love with the art quickly. however, the most frustrating part of the entire thing had little to do with actually dancing. the school bruce had helped pick out was prestigious, which meant a strict dress code, which meant her hair had to be in a bun. unfortunately, her hair never seemed to want to cooperate. after her latest attempt, falling into a mess of hair at her nape that had so many locks falling out, cass contemplated how mad the teacher would be if she showed up in a ponytail. at that moment, dick peeked into her room, having heard her frustrated noise, and asked if he could do anything to help. cass pointed to the mess of hair, not even remotely contained by the hair tie, and blew a strand out of her face. dick smiled with understanding, then came into her room, grabbing the comb on her bed and standing behind her in front of the mirror. he smoothed her hair with the comb, then pulled it this way and that, twisting and turning and wrapping until, two minutes later, a picture perfect bun sat atop her head. cass blinked with surprise. “first try,” she said, staring up at him, but he just shrugged and said, “it’s not that hard. you want me to drop you off?”

bruce could admit that he rather enjoyed undercover missions. it was an extended game with high stakes, a test of his own acting skills. with makeup changing his face, an expertly made wig, and a demeanor completely different from both brucie wayne and from batman, he swept through the crowd of greasy men, looking for a specific contact. then, he caught sight of someone specific indeed, though they weren’t his contact. eyebrows raised in a what are you doing here? gesture, he slid onto a barstool. from behind the bar, dick offered him a blinding smile, cleaning a glass. he tapped his wrist twice, a clear message. undercover, same as you. then, dick grabbed a couple bottles from underneath a shelf, flipping them in his hand and pouring with grandeur. bruce noticed he hadn’t put any alcohol in his little mixture, only making it seem as if he had. the flashy moves were entertaining, bruce could give him that. dick slid him the drink and bruce took a sip, eyebrows raising in brief surprise. “this is good. bartending?” dick put the bottles and the lemon away, unimpressed. “it’s not like it’s hard. just mixing a couple ingredients. no biggie.” bruce was fairly certain bartending was more difficult than that, but just then, his target came into view. 

steph understood some of the bats’ frustration with dick, she really could. he hadn’t exactly been a welcome and opening batman, that’s for sure. regardless, as the few masks left in gotham had to work together, and she’d gotten to know the man pretty well. and she enjoyed his company as nightwing much more than batman. she dropped onto his balcony in his bludhaven apartment, announcing her presence in that loud-subtle way. dick was nestled in a couple blankets on the couch, going over a couple files, apparently just back from patrol if the small bandage on his neck and bags under his eyes were any indication. nevertheless, he brightened when he saw her and she nodded when he asked if she wanted to spend the night. he moved some of the papers to make room for her on the couch, but she flitted into his bathroom, going through the nail polish bottles she knew he had, and grabbing a shade of red that caught her eye. she tossed him the bottle and put her fingers in his lap, talking aimlessly about a movie she watched with cass. dick seemed to relax amidst her jabbering, and he shook the bottle a couple times before opening it and focusing on her right hand. but as he started, steph paused her rambling and focused on him instead, holding her hands gently and brushing paint onto her nails. he managed to cover her entire nail in three easy strokes, smooth and glossy, not a hint of paint on her skin. the nail was practically perfect. oh god she was jealous. “got a lot of practice with this, grayson?” she asked, and laughed at dick’s mock-offended of course not!

damian wasn’t one for photography, and he could grudgingly admit drake was far better at that particular skill than he was. however, his art class had promised to cover all types of media, and had upheld that pledge. the next two weeks were dedicated to photography, and their final project for the unit had to be a small collection of photographs. animal photography, of course, was damian’s chosen subject, and the knowledge that animal photography was one of the hardest skills to master only had damian wanting to do it more. days later, however, he could admit that it was trickier than expected. how had he never noticed how active his animals were? they never sat still, and every single picture came out blurry. grayson, upon coming across him in the manor grounds, noticed his futile attempts and asked if he could help. damian acquiesced the camera to grayson, who looked through the lens, finding the right angle and background, adjusting the focus settings slightly. then, he let out a sharp whistle and snapped his fingers. in nothing short of a miracle, damian’s pets pasued to look at him, only for a second, and the shutter clicked furiously. damian flipped through the photos, a good many of them clear and wonderful. damian snapped in irritation when dick ruffled his hair and said, “now you try!” it definitely wasn’t as easy as grayson made it look.

babs didn’t really know what she was expecting when she broke up with dick. there was hurt on both ends, and distance for a while, and she had no idea how much she’d miss him. but after a couple months of working together, of remembering that underneath the romantic tangles, their friendship was strong, she’d gotten to the point of dick randomly dropping by her apartment again. the downside was, dick kept randomly dropping by her apartment again. he stole her snacks and messed up her filing system and was so irritating that barbara almost forgot how relieved she was at having one of her best friends back. fortunately, it did come with benefits, because when he was bored, he did some of her chores for her. pausing in the doorway, she smiled at the sight of dick folding her clothes and putting them away. the gesture was platonic now, but no less appreciated. she pushed her wheelchair forward, and in greeting, dick told her how much he wanted to steal all her patterned socks. babs reminded him they wouldn’t fit, and laughed at his pout. dick grabbed one sock off the top of the laundry basket, then dug his hand into the pile of clothes randomly, coming up with the second sock in an instant. folding them together, he repeated the process for each pair. “that...that was fast. you got all of them?” babs asked in confusion. “yes? why, did you expect some to be missing?” was dick’s reply as he shook the wrinkles out of a sweater.

wally was never surprised. he knew dick better than probably most people in the world. he’d gone from frustrated and jealous of dick’s random talents, to admiring and appreciative, to just accepting them as a fact of life. dick’s phone never cracked if he accidentally he dropped it. dick never buttoned up shirts wrong, aligning each button with the right hole perfectly on the first try. dick could plug in usb ports the right way. dick always remembered which light switch was for which room, no matter whose house they were at. dick could pop a cd out of its case without ever smudging the disk, holding it by the rim perfectly. and dick always seemed to know when wally needed a day off, to just visit their old haunts, grab some ice cream, and spend the day talking away on a rooftop. that was just something his best friend could do. and wally would never tell dick, but underneath his fake irritation at it, but he loved him for it.

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