#maybe I'll have some leftover towards the end of the month or i can see what payments i could put it on

[fxckinemo]

just found a dog gate that might actually work to keep my dog away from the door if she's loose while I'm home but it's $80 😭

[pascaloverx]

NO LIGHT

SUMMARY: Your life is simple. You are a pastry chef who has just opened a bakery near your home. A new life, being a new person. But when James Barnes shows up at your bakery injured, asking you to offer him shelter, your life takes a sudden turn.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this fanfiction are not my creation and all belong to the Marvel universe. This story will feature scenes of violence, brief intense intimate moments, and inappropriate language. To the readers, I wish you a good read and ask that you engage with the fanfiction if you like it. Do not interact with this fanfiction if you are underage. Enjoy reading.

AO3 LINK ONE

PREVIEW

It's been two months since a handsome stranger started showing up at your bakery to buy an espresso and two loaves of bread. Nothing more, nothing less. You've never told anyone, but since his first order, you've been practicing new types of bread dough for him to try. He always comes in sweaty, and you believe it's from a run, but he's always so kind and always leaves a good tip. Unfortunately, every time you try to start a conversation with him, he disappears.

"Hello, is anyone there?" You hear a male voice coming from the entrance of the bakery. It must be the handsome stranger whose name remains a mystery. In his cup of coffee, at least, he asks for the name Barnes to be written on his order.

"Just a second…" You speak loudly so the person at the bakery entrance can hear. Unfortunately, you just put the bread in the oven, which means you're probably covered in flour. Not to mention, the Barnes guy has never shown up this early.

"Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to know if you have your famous bread and coffee. I can't start my day without stopping by here." Finally, you make it to the entrance of the bakery. It's him, Barnes with captivating blue eyes and a charming smile.

"It's no bother at all, but unfortunately, I just put the bread in the oven. But I can prepare the coffee right now. I also made a cake. If you'd like, I can offer you a slice. And if you're willing, you can come back at the end of the day; I'll be trying a new fennel bread recipe that you might enjoy." You say, smiling gently at Barnes, who looks at the watch on his wrist. He's dressed formally today, which makes him look even more handsome.

"I will accept your offer to come at the end of the day. If you want to separate the piece of cake; I will gladly take it with me." He appears to be in a hurry as he heads towards the exit. You watch him, shaking your head positively.

"I'll separate them for you." You say as you watch him walk away. For the rest of the day, no matter if you were baking cookies or making a cupcake, you thought that at the end of your day; you would see Barnes.

You're distracted tidying up your counter, saving some leftovers to take home, maybe offer to your neighbors. In reality, you could already be at home but decided to do some extra cleaning at the bakery before leaving. Not because you want to cleaning everything for the thousandth time but because you want to give what you set aside to Barnes. The movement in the bakery was good, its oldest customers continue to return and bring more customers. While you're distracted, something makes a huge noise at the entrance.

"What the hell is going on here?" You shout towards the door. Next thing you know, Barnes is hurt. His clothes are torn, it looks like he was attacked. And he's standing inside your bakery, bleeding on the floor.

"You told me to come at the end of your shift. I'm sorry I'm late, I was finishing up some unfinished business." Barnes says as he tries to stay upright. You approach him, helping him sit down.

"I know we don't know each other very well, but you look terrible." You say, touching his forehead lightly, which seems to be quite bruised.

"I'm bleeding on the floor of your bakery, you can call me horrible all you want." He says smiling but then groaning in pain.

"Shouldn't we call the police or something? Maybe at least go to the hospital…" you try to suggest without success. Barnes shakes his head negatively while groaning a few curses. You worry about what kind of trouble he must be in to not want to do any of that, but suddenly it occurs to you that you have a first aid kit in the bakery's pantry.

"I know I'm asking too much, but at the moment I can't answer any questions or accept any suggestions. I only came here because I feel you like me enough to help me." Barnes speaks with some difficulty as you help him with his injuries. You're still processing the fact that he thinks you like him. While you're applying some bandages, you end up having to tear his shirt to clean the blood.

"Just tell me one thing, are we safe now?" You ask nervously as you put some bandages on Barnes. He looks at you, then holds your hand. You didn't even notice but your hand is shaking.

"As long as you're with me, you'll be safe." Barnes speaks in a seductive way but you try not to think of him that way. Even while he's injured, shirtless on the floor of your bakery. However, before you can answer anything, you hear a gunshot and suddenly, a bullet passes through the entrance to your bakery.

"I know the timing is terrible but are you sure?" You ask as you see the pained expression on Barnes' face turn into one of anger.

"Stay here, I'll sort this out and be right back." Barnes says holding your face lightly, which is the closest thing to intimacy you've had in a while but you could only think that he was intruding towards death. You watch him grab one of his best knives and head towards the front door. You are crouched down in an area a little further away from the entrance to your bakery. You hear grunts, some swearing. The guy who shot threatening Barnes, and Barnes not backing down. You hear the sound of another gunshot and then what sounds like someone using the knife. You grab the fire extinguisher on your wall and prepare to hit whoever walks through the door.And as soon as you make a move to hit the person, you feel the person holding you back.

"That would have been more useful with the bandit in front of your bakery. But it's good to know that you know how to defend yourself." Barnes says smiling pretentiously. After you dropped the fire extinguisher on the floor, Barnes fell into your arms. And all you can think is that you couldn't imagine ending your night with him in your arms like this.

[nonchalant-taste]

I wish I was a better writer. I'd love to write a stuffing fic that focuses on a post game Aki.ra and him coming to terms with his own appetite. A healing kind of fic, you know? I've always hc'd that he has a large appetite, but holds back to be polite / not a bother due to things people have said to him before. He eats out so often with friends and seems to enjoy going all around Tokyo to try new meals, but there's so much commentary in the game about how despite all this, he still doesn't eat properly. From Mor.gana... his actions in Leblanc... And Especially when it comes to post-December. The game even tells you he lost a ton of weight, to the point that it's the first thing the thieves notice. I'd imagine after coming back from jail he'd have a much harder time than before too; probably going so far as to pass up curry in the mornings because he just can't bring himself to.

It'd be sweet to see the thieves band together to try and encourage him and help him get back into old habits. Ryu.ji and Ha.ru probably being *especially* encouraging haha. But yeah, people suggesting to go out to eat for hangouts-- like A.nn raving about a new crepe he has to try, or Ryu.ji dragging him off to a ramen place for a breather-- always pointing him towards seconds if he's up for it. Maybe even specifically picking places they know Aki.ra would enjoy, or at least used to enjoy. Aki.ra probably has no qualms with it when it's someone else wanting to go (And how can he deny seconds when Ryu.ji is so excited for him to try this new flavour like that,) but he won't ever suggest places himself.

They probably take it as a huge W when one day he does ask to go out though. Externally they're all normal about it of course, but there's a huge unspoken sigh of relief. As the months of this go on, it gets more natural for him to take seconds (And even thirds,) without their goading, and he's definitely begun to put on some weight. (Probably by the end of it, more than he started out with. His casual shirts fit far more snugly, but he's too happy making memories and excitedly indulging himself for once with his friends to care.)

He's smart enough to catch on to what they're doing, but I think Aki.ra would be pretty touched by the fact that they're all making a conjoined effort as opposed to upset or anything. It'd probably be a bit embarrassing to learn how they've doted on him (And how he totally fell for it without noticing in those first couple weeks?) but yeah, ultimately he's glad for it. It's hard to stay mopey and away from food when you've got people like Ha.ru offering premium shit. (Aki.ra's a chronic anti-waster and you KNOW she'd take advantage of that. He'd be wolfing down 'leftovers' until bursting with her.)

Ah, I just realized this post doesn't have a lot of stuffing, oops. I'll admit I'm mostly focused on the healing aspect of it, but once Aki.ra realizes the others are accepting (and some even into,) his appetite he'd definitely try to push his limits out of curiosity. Sure, he could put it back no problem when he was younger, but he's grown a lot now and so did his hunger, probably. If he can take down the cosmic tower burger down with ease (Hell, even two of them back to back? I'm still reeling from that bit in one of the mangas where he eats two for Yus.uke. He doesn't even get sick from it. He doesn't even FEEL sick from it.) then just what else can he do...?

whoops. this got long. sorry for clogging up the dash i just needed to get my thoughts out. ✌️ eating and wg as a form of healing is everything to me. Aki.ra, the one who never asks for anything and never takes more than he needs, finally getting the chance to just go all out and enjoy himself is everything to me. Does he not deserve it. Take him back to the Wilton buffet you monsters,

[ladywinterwitch]

Run Away (Ten - Strangers)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger! Reader

Summary: You and Steve complete each other. Your love is that strong and devoted kind of love that pushes people to things like marriage, making a family. You couldn't imagine that a baby would be something you really wished, until the possibility wasn't your choice anymore.

Warnings: pregnancy talk, fluff, A N G S T, I think that's it??

Words Count: 3739

A/n: Next chapter is longer and INTENSE

Series masterlist , main masterlist

(GIF not mine)

Y/n and Steve ended up falling asleep, which was a bit embarassing especially on his part. In the end tho they woke up around two in the afternoon and were starving. You also thought about the fact that Helen must've already set in by now. After cleaning up a bit and getting redressed the two actually went to separate directions, Steve to the gym because he had a bunch of new recruits to train by three sharp, while Y/n was heading to the kitchen.

-FRIDAY, would you call up ms Simon for me?- she found Tony, Vision and Thor in the common room so she quickly greeted them.

-Hey guys, taking a break?- she smiled when Thor got up to greet her properly. He was such a physical and affectionate person. He reminded her of a golden retriever; huge, with long hair and a heart of gold. Your smile widened when he bent down to press his ear to her belly.

-Well yes darling, do you forget that aside from kicking some ass every now and then we're basically jobless?- Tony joked. Both he and Vision were looking at you two.

-How is your pregnancy going, Y/n?- Vision asked in his posh and polite manner. She tilted her head to the side. Thor still touching the smooth and round surface. She didn't mind at all.

-It's going smoothly, thank you. Tho if I have to be honest I can't wait to at least give birth. I love my belly but it's so complicated to live with. I also miss actually moving around and exiting the tower. I don't think I've ever been so still and babyed in my life.-

-If it was an easy job, God wouldn't have gave it to women.- they all turn around when you hear an unfamiliar voice, which they soon found out to be Helen's. Thor stands straight in all his tallness and gets in front of her protectively.

-Who are you?- he asks suspiciously. She put a hand on his arm to calm him down.

-It's okay, Thor. This is Helen Simon, she's my new midwife. The one me and Steve hired this morning.- her head turns quickly to Tony then back to Helen. Tony stands up, fixing the invisible fold in his tracksuit pants and smugly walks to the older woman.

-Stark. Tony Stark. I actually hired you, but I'll let the happy couple have the glory.- he joked and you shook your head amused. They shook hands and then Vision introduced himself as well. Thor just acknowleged her with a nod. It's not like the God of Thunder had to introduce himself.

-Okay guys, see you later. I'm starving so.- you decided to cut it, but obviously Tony had to sneak in a joke. Had to.

-I'm sure cap worn you out.- Thor, which didn't know what timing was, bless his heart, decided to burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes not looking back.

-Jealousy doesn't match with your shoes Anthony.- you clapped back, still hearing Thor laugh and Tony calling him out.

A few feet down the corridor there was the kitchen, and when Y/n finally tought that her and Helen could have a minute alone, they found Wanda intently reading a book while she mover her finger around to spin the teaspoon in a mug. She looked up when they entered the room. Her finger stopped working and so did the spoon, the faint magenta colored aura disappearing.

-Hello?- she said, tentatively. Y/n ignored her cold stare and walked to the fridge taking out the leftover chicken and some salad to mix.

-She's Helen, the midwife me and Steve talked about.- there was a subtle warning in Y/n's voice. She thought 'Be nice' in her mind, and when Wanda sighed she knew she read her mind.

-Nice to meet you. If you'll excuse m- - Wanda was about to get up from the stool but the old woman's voice stopped her.

-You aren't eating that chicken cold are you? How old is it?- she walked closer, grabbing the plastic box from her hands. Both her and Wanda were a little taken aback by her bluntness, and shared a look.

-Uh..Yeah? I was actually going to put it in the salad. And it's..I'm not sure, a couple of days old? Still perfectly fresh and untouched.- she answered trying to reassure her, but she wasn't having it at all.

-This isn't eating healthy. If you want a healthy baby you need to eat properly. I'll take care of your meals from now on. - she stated, putting the box aside. - The non pregnant teammates can risk getting sick with that chicken. - Wanda's gaze darkened and her eyes took a light shade of red.

-What's that supposed to mean, old lady? - Y/n saw her fingers starting to move around with the corner of her eye and put her own hand on hers.

-Helen didn't mean anything, Wanda. She just meant that I have to be extra careful in comparison to the rest of you, ok? Don't you have to be somewhere right now?- she asked in the most calm way. The last hting she needed was Wanda yeeting Helen out of the tower on the first day. Wanda closed and picked up her book and mug, walking towards the exit of the kitchen.

-I mean, I'd like to go to the terrace to chill, but I can't.- Y/n frowned while sitting on a stool. Meanwhile Helen had already started to inspect their whole frige.

-I can feel Bucky and his girl going at it so yeah, I did not plan to watch a live performance.- she choked on water and the old lady turned around with a rather disgusted face. Wanda just shrugged and left them. The girl turned towards the older woman with an awkward smile.

-Welcome I guess.- the short fake laugh was over as soon as Helen sat in front of her, her hands conjoined in front of her.

-This isn't good.- the girl shifted uncomfortably, then uncosciously starting to rub her belly as a sign of comfort.

-What isn't?- the lady sighed. -First off, there are way too many people here. This place is chaotic, the people aren't giving you the peace that you need. This isn't a baby-space. At all. I just looked into your frigde and there isn't a single thing ready or 100% healthy probably except vegetables. Y/n if you want to be a good mother and be healthy for your baby you need to change a few things.- her words at first irritated her, setting off her protectiveness towards the people she called family, but then as she went on, she made her feel little. Like a little girl who wasn't good enough. She sighed silently.

-What would you have me do then?- she asked. Helen shrugged, still mantaining her perfect posture.

-I'm not gonna suggest you to buy a new place, because where you'll live after the baby is born is your business, but..- she paused, -I can offer you to come live at my place for these last two months or so. I have a nice, peaceful place a little outside New York. I already had eight of my patients do this, it's not so absurd.- she explained like it was the most normal thing in the world. Y/n was listening, but she wasn't convinced. She decided that she had to think about it first. She had to know for sure that she was professional and competent.

-I don't know, Helen. I'll admit that it isn't the most tranquil place to live, but...these people are my family. They have always been by my side, pregnant or not. And what about Steve? The father of my firstborn?- she marked the last phrase, tilting her head to the side. A little habit she probably took from Wanda.

-Because they care about you. But in truth, tell me, aren't you feeling like a burden? Like you get into their business?- she mirrored the young woman's expression. Y/n didn't answer at first.

-You're really not going soft on this are you?- Helen released a dry laugh. Shook her head and paused before talking.

-Yes. I began working as a nurse unofficially when I was 13 years old, during the Prague Spring reforms in '68. The hospital was in short of nurses so.- she explained, -That time wasn't easy. Not that the one before it and after it wasn't, that is. You either grow a thick skin or you don't survive.- Y/n felt for her, as she had a very similar destiny. First she doesn't know how she ended up in an orphanage, and then when she was fifteen and nobody took her, they kicked her out. She was homeless for a year until SHIELD recruited her, and the rest is history.

The older woman got up and took some vegetables, washed them and then placed them down to slice them. Y/n got up as well and started helping. She eyed the fresh eggs, so she guessed that Helen wanted to make a quick frittata.

-How did you end up in America? As midwife, nonetheless.- she asked.

-Why most foreign people come to America? Certainly not the food.- The woman responded with a slight hint of irony. The girl chuckled.

-Touché.-

-In any case, I've been here more than half of my live, moved many states mainly for my own choice. Being a private midwife pays decently.- she paused to dump the sliced vegetables into a pan with a little oil and salt.

-I became one because I was fascinated by the whole process that the woman's body goes through both before, during and after birth. I assisted two of my older sisters, and in the end ended up doing it as a job.- Y/n nodded, listening.

-That's actually amazing. But if I can ask, you do not have kids yourself?-

-No. Didn't have the possibility at first. Then decided that just it was my profession but not my future. No regrets.- she answered even tho the girl could sense that something was off. She decided not to intrude.

Silence fell between them while they were cooking, and the younger woman took the popularity to think about what she said. The woman was practical, a bit harsh maybe. But she also had a lot of experience. She didn't like the thought of leaving her family, but she had to admit that she often felt like a burden lately. More than once someone stayed behind to look after her, and even tho they didn't seem to mind at all, she did. She wasn't used to being so pampered and looked after, and sometimes she almost felt suffocated. Guess that spending many years of your life having to take care of yourself takes a toll on you.

She didn't want to decide anything without talking it out with Steve first. And it wouldn't be permanent, just for the last couple months or so, until she had the baby. If she really thought about it maybe she needed some time to reconnect with herself, to learn how to take care of her baby in the best way possible. Even the stupidest thing like cold chicken could potentially make her sick, and it was such a small thing. But that doesn't change the fact that she didn't knew. She wasn't one of those moms who surrounded herself with books teaching her every do's and don'ts, but at this point insecurity was kicking in. The last thing she would ever want was to be a bad mother even before actually becoming one.

-

Between a baby shop and another, and a whole new diet including an embarrassing amount of tea, Y/n finished her eight month of pregnancy. She was feeling as tired and as big as ever. Helen actually helped a lot both with the cooking, the health tips and with the shopping. She actually sobbed when they bought the crib. Both because she was emotional, a bit because hormones and also because Steve was again away on a mission. The whole team was actually. They had new leads in the Hungarian case and another completely different mission in South Korea, a tough one. So it required the whole team split up. That was the fist time Y/n was left alone since she knew she were pregnant. It all went smoothly, the tower actually felt quiet for once.

Y/n and Helen had found a nice dynamic, and most of the time spent time in a comfortable silence, each doing their thing. A downside that she wasn't realizing was the distance that was slowly creeping from her to the team. They didn't really like the midwife that much, Wanda, Thor and Bucky especially didn't like her at all. But Y/n felt for her, she felt like she knew her better than them so she often took her side, which hurt them back.

Steve on the other hand wasn't realizing it almost at all. All he cared about was his wife being healthy and that she got along with the midwife. They didn't sleep together often anymore, due to the fact that he was often away and she was constantly tired. Bruce did warn her at the beggining that this 'enhanced' baby would've probably tired her out, and it did at first but then she was feeling very well. She and Helen both blamed it on the tiredness of the pregnancy as a whole.

The last straw was when some of the guys, specifically Sam, Thor and Peter, whom didn't live at the tower and was rarely involved in missions because of Tony, went to see them and in some way, nobody actually know how, they made a whole ass hole in the floor above the library. Fate wanted that Y/n and Helen were reading just a few feet away. If they were just a bit closer to the door, they would've been hit by the pavement pieces.

Helen gasped and jumped out of her seat, book still in her hand by the corner. The younger woman on the other hand was more mad than anything.

She rose from the armchair, struggling a bit and marched towards the now destroyed door. The damage wasn't so bad, but it was still damage and it could've been way worse. She was fuming.

-Y/n! Shit are you okay? - Sam yelled from above. The three guys looking down from the hole they created.

-I'm so sorry it wasn't me! It was Thor! - Peter joined in and caused the God to respond, and from that a whole lot of mess arose.

The people who weren't on a mission, which were Wanda, Bucky and Tony, came running.

Y/n didn't know where to look and all of a sudden started felling a bit suffocated. She brought a hand to her forehead, distubed by the chaos arouns her.

-Stop! Fucking stop it! - she yelled, groaning from frustration. Everyone stopped talking while the girl started to feel her eyes prickle with tears of frustration.

-Why is never, ever a single day if peace in here? There's always someone around, making a mess, making noise, complaining- - she almost stumbled on a piece of ceiling that had fallen, but Bucky and Tony were right behind her and helped her stabilize herself, but she shoved them off.

-Leave me be!- she exclaimed frustrated. She huffed, trying to take a deep breath. -I'm moving out.- a chorus of 'What' arose. Bucky stepped forward and grabbed her wrist gently.

-What are you talking about?- his eyes showed confusion and panic.

-And when would have you decided this stupid thing?- Tony crossed his arms and went straight up 'Tony Stark' on her. Y/n rolled her eyes, ignoring both questions and walked out of the now damaged library. Helen followed suit.

-At least wait for Steve to return!- Wanda said. Thor jumped down, through the new hole in the ceiling and followed her like the others.

-Y/n, we're sorry! Look, I'm gonna fix the ceiling myself okay? Please don't go- Y/n's ached to see them upset, but she was tired. Too tired. She was afraid that if she had stayed more than she could withstand, their relationships could've been ruined. That was the last thing she wanted. She didn't knew exactly what was that overwhelmed her so much. She felt constantly tired and in pain, all the noise, number of people..it had become just too much. She needed to finish this pregnancy alone, or at least in a more quiet place.

She stopped in her tracks and exhaled silently. Her eyes passed through everyone in the room. Even in that moment, they were decimated because of the mission, yet there were still eight people in the room. When normally it would've been around 15. That's too many people.

-It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault, specifically. I just.. I feel overwhelmed. There's too much going on here at the tower. And for me it's like seeing life go on without being able to do anything. I need some space, okay? It won't be forever. Hell, if everything goes well it's gonna be a month, at best. But I really, really need a break. I am going to pack and leave by afternoon, when Steve returns, just send him to the address that I'll leave for him. Okay? I love you guys, you're my family and I wouldn't be where I am today without you. Its just temporary.- she smiled softly, trying not to get emotional. Wanda was visibly upset, on the verge of crying. The others just looked sad, maybe disappointed. But nobody said anything, so she turned her heels and went straight to her room.

-

By five pm she and Helen were already gone. The older woman called them a cab, the driver took care of their stuff and then they were gone. Y/n was silent during most of the trip, both because of the extreme tiredness and sadness. She never changed home since she moved to the tower. She also thought about what she would tell Steve. She knew she couldn't contact him, so she didn't. They had left two days prior, so it was a bit early to know when he'll be coming home. But she knew a hundred percent that he would've gotten to her even before going home.

The two women were headed to the older one's house, which was in Avalon, New Jersey. Helen had told her about her beach house, quite far from the city. Y/n did actually fall asleep after the first hour or so, they had around three in total so she didn't worry about not waking up. By her surprise though, she did sleep throughout the whole trip, and yet, she was still tired. In those days her head gave her particular discomfort, so any noise at all really disturbed her.

Helen woke her up gently when they arrived, the she helped her get out of the car. Meanwhile the driver, which was a quite young man, probably around her age, which was 27, with curly black hair, stubble and dark green eyes, took their luggage off of the trunk.

-That's all. Have a nice stay.- he smiled slightly. Y/n frowned, what about the money?

-How much do we owe you?- she asked sweetly. He waved his hand dismissively, going back in the driver's seat.

-The lady already paid me, I'm ok. Bye.- he waved goodbye and drove off. Y/n and Helen dragged the luggage insider her villa, by which the girl definitely was taken aback.

-You didn't tell me that you live in a Villa?-

-Maybe, but I did tell you that being a private midwife pays well. I also need space if I want to take people living with me.- she explained. The first thing that you could see was the huge open space which showed a not exaggeratedly large living room with a window door on the right, on the left there was the kitchen and in the middle a staircase.

It wasn't very decorated, but the light palette of the whole place defines had a calming effect. Y/n was so used to the high rise and high technology of the Avengers tower that she had almost forgot how nice and intimate a normal house could be.

Helen showed y/n around a little, then ended up in the spare room, which had a large bed, a balcony and some essential forniture pieces such as a wardrobe, a vanity, a full length mirror, an armchair.

-This is really nice, Helen.- she smiled tiredly, caressing her big belly while she walked around. But as she was walking towards the balcony, she had a slight attack of vertigo, and her knees buckle for a second. The woman was at her side in a few seconds, helping her onto the bed. Y/n huffed, the back of her hand on her eyes.

-Why am I so shitty? I was pretty good until a few months ago.- she whined, and Helen shook her head while she stroked her arm.

-Every pregnancy is different, Y/n. You're just tired, from the car and that chaotic place.- the disdain in her voice didn't really pleased Y/n, but she didn't say anything. She didn't have the strength and besides, it's not like she was particularly liked at the tower anyway.

-I'll get you a tea, be right back.- Y/n chuckled.

-I drank more of your Hungarian tea than water in the last months.- Helen pulled a tight smile.

-Well, it is a traditional recipe for pregnant women. Not that you seem to mind it either.- the girl relaxed her eyes and discarded her sneakers to the ground.

-No, it has a peculiar taste but not bad.-

-Good.- and with that she left the girl alone. Helen went down the stairs, and turned on the stove to warm some water. She then opened a drawer, forcing the wood layer to come up by using her fingernails, pulling out an old fashioned phone.

She went to the contacts and dialed the only one there was. She waited a few minutes, when someone picked up.

-Igen?-

-Közeledünk. Készülj fel.- she said, hanging up.

************

Translation from Hungarian: ‘Yes?’ ‘We’re close. Get ready.’

Hiii, this is quite a short chapter but I wanted to end it with ✨ suspense ✨ the next one tho is gonna be way longer. Lastly, friendly reminder that my taglist and my ask inbox are open!

***********

Taglist : @polarcrystall @a--1--1--3  @jessyballet​

[castielific]

Title: Fancy and the tramp

Story status: Complete, 8 chapters

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dean/Castiel, Alternate Universe, Fake boyfriends, pretend relationship, homeless!Dean, rich!Cas, family, angst with a happy ending, temporary breakup, getting back together, coming out, past!homophobia, self esteem issues, Dean Winchester has a sexuality crisis, first time, homelessness, bed sharing, pining

Sex tags: anal sex, switching, bottom!Cas, bottom!Dean, first time, frottage, marking, blowjob, fingering, barebacking

Special warning: Contrary to what the title may presage, there are no spaghettis in this story. 

Summary: 

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods.

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new fake boyfriend. What a weird day. 

Link to AO3

Chapter 1 under the cut:

************

"Come on Ricky, you owe me that money!" Dean says on his phone, taking a step forward when the line of the coffee shop shortens. 

"I don't owe you shit, Dean. You still owe me the last three months of your rent," his ex landlord says on the phone.

"And I'll pay you, you know I will. But to get the money, I need a job, and to get that job I need some new clothes and-"

"Yeah yeah, I know the deal. You think no one has told me that one before? No bueno, man, I'm keeping your deposit," Ricky grumbles. 

Dean groans in frustration. "Come on, all I need is fifty dollars so I can buy a pair of pants without any holes in it. You give me fifty, I get the job and I pay you back, how does that sound?" he tries to negotiate. 

"Like a fucking lie," Ricky spits just before hanging up.

"No Ric-fuck!" 

The woman in front of him in line sends him a dark look. Dean rolls his eyes at her. Like she hasn't heard worse before. 

Ricky was his last shot. It was a long one, he really does owe that bastard some serious money. Guess he can kiss the job interview at two goodbye. It's some kind of assistant job. It sounds easy enough, buying coffee and picking dry cleaning and stuff. It was still a long shot anyway. Dean's only real job experience is being a bagger boy when he was seventeen and it lasted about two months before his dad decided to move them further east. 

So far, he'd always managed to get by doing repairs or cleaning at gas stops and motels. The older he gets and the harder it gets to find that kind of random job. People are more willing to give a few bucks in exchange for manual tasks to a kid than they are to a nearly thirty years old guy. Now they just tell him to fuck off. 

And since it's always been casual and off the book, the only official work experience he has is the bagger thing. He doesn't even have a high school diploma because he dropped out long before that. Not exactly a stellar resume. Which explains why he hasn't found work in eight month and is currently living in his car. Thank God he has Baby. 

He had been too ambitious thinking he could get his own place. It could only pay rent for about five months before he went broke. He's never had a home before, and had no idea that having an apartment cost so much. In motels, you don't exactly have to pay for water or heat or utilities. There was a bunch of stuff he hadn't planned for that ate up the last of his meagre savings. Ricky threw him out after three months when Dean couldn't scrape up enough money to pay rent anymore, putting a violent stop to Dean's pipe dream of living a normal life. He hoped it would be simpler to get a job if he had an actual address, had even thought about scrapping up enough to maybe get his GED. He's not sure what he's going to do now. 

He's always wanted to be a mechanic. If his dad ever taught him anything, it was how to take care of the Impala. John taught him all the basics and Dean got the knack of it. As a teen, he spent days reading car magazines and working on the Impala, trying to learn as much as he could about how cars worked and how to repair the different parts. He knows enough by now that he could easily work in a garage, but he's got no diploma, and hasn't found anyone willing to hire him on faith alone. 

The line of the coffee shop shortens again, the barista asking her order to the goody-two-shoes in front of him. Dean looks regretfully at the display of sandwiches. He searches his pockets and only comes up with three dollars. Of course, the cheapest piece of food cost four dollars. Dean sighs. Guess just a coffee will have to do today. 

He won't have another choice but to go to the soup kitchen tonight. He hates it there. The food is crap and he wants to punch the prancy people serving it. They always try to give him some Jesus bullshit with his food, like Jesus is ever gonna put a roof over his head and find him a decent job. Neither Jesus nor God nor whatever gives a crap about him. Not that he blames them. Hell, if they exist they're probably not big fans of the guy that used to slip into church as a kid to pick the lock of the donation box

"Just an americano, please," Dean says regretfully when the barista asks for his order. At least it will keep him warm and fill his stomach for a short while.

Halloween just went by and the weather is becoming really cold. He should use the last of Baby's tank to go as far south as he can before winter really hits. He probably won't get farther than Wichita though, and the thought makes him shiver. No one wants to get stuck for a winter in Wichita. Maybe he could go and see if he can make a few bucks at the nearest motel, that kind of place always needs a handyman's help. He hasn't tried the one on Corn Street yet. He's noticed only two lights are still working on their sign, he could offer to help with that. If he makes fifty bucks, he might be able to reach Austin. 

Dean stops on the sidewalk in front of the coffee shop, pondering if he should walk to the bar a few streets down or the motel. Sometimes Benny, the owner of the bar, lets him use the sink in the back to wash up. If he's lucky, he'll even get some leftovers from last night. It's generally just some stale pretzels, cold fries on good days, but it's still better than nothing. He's got two cans of beans and a car with an near empty tank to his name right now, so he's not picky. 

Dean takes a look at his watch. It's eleven thirty already, the leftovers are probably already in the trash at Benny's. The motel is probably his best bet. 

"I'll give you a hundred dollars if you pretend to be my boyfriend." comes a hoarse voice, way too close to his ear. 

Dean jumps, nearly spilling his coffee on himself. He spins to the right to face the man who just talked and is met with a pair of clear blue eyes. Way too close again. He waits a second for the man to take a step back as he realises as close Dean turning brought them, but the guy just continues to stare at him, head slightly tilted to the side. He's wearing an oversized trench coat over a dark blue suit that looks expensive. He's so close a gust of wind makes the bottom of his coat brushes Dean's shin. 

"Dude, personal space," Dean reproaches, taking a step back. "And fuck off, I don't swing that way," he adds, not meanly. It's not the first time he's getting hit on by a dude. Sadly, not even the weirdest. He's strictly into chicks though, so no dice.

"Two hundred bucks," the man insists. He looks ready to fall on his knees and beg, eyes going wider and wider as he throws a panicked look to the right of Dean's shoulder. "It won't take more than ten minutes and all you have to do is nod along," he begs, making Dean wonders if he's in danger somehow. Maybe he has a stalker or an abusive ex? 

Dean follows his eyes to a woman coming closer. She's very elegant in a grey pantsuit and a long white fur coat as she walks straight toward them. He can feel her eyes judging him even from thirty feet away, looking at him from head to toes. If he wasn't already self-aware of the number of holes in his jeans, he would definitely be under that gaze. 

"Five hundred dollars," the other man whispers just as the blond woman reaches them. 

"Castiel, dear, you should have told me we would have company, I would have notified the restaurant," the woman says, sending a clearly disapproving look toward Dean as she deposits a kiss on the other man's - (Castiel, apparently, what kind of name is that??) - cheek. 

"Mother, let me introduce you to my boyfriend," Castiel says, looking ill at ease. He's obviously not a very good liar. 

Dean blinks a few times as their attention turns toward him. Castiel seems to be trying to communicate something with his eyes, and Dean frowns in incomprehension for a moment before he gets the hint. 

"Huh. Dean. Winchester," he finally says. "Ma'am," he adds when she just continues to stare at him like he has grease smeared all over his face. He's pretty sure that she wouldn't want to touch his hand if he were to offer it to shake, so he doesn't. 

"Naomi Novak," she introduces herself. "What a delight to finally meet Castiel's new companion," Naomi says, her deadpan tone contradicting her words. "Of course, I would have preferred not to be ambushed by such an announcement. Castiel, you know, that Le Délice hates it when we change our reservation last minute. Who knows if they will even have a table for three," she declares, already composing a number on her phone. 

"It's okay, mother, Dean won't be joining us for lunch."

"Oh, is it because your attire isn't appropriate?" Castiel's mother asks, looking at the holes in Dean's jeans and the big leather jacket that used to be his dad's. "I assure you they won't say a word about it if you're with us," she reassures. 

Dean squirms a little, wondering what the hell is even happening. Ten minutes ago he was buying a coffee and going at his day like a perfectly normal person (well, albeit a homeless and jobless one). Now, his fashion sense is being criticized by the mother of a man who is pretending to be his boyfriend. Did a piano fall on his head or something? Has he finally lost his mind?

He looks to the man beside him. He's scratching the side of his neck in nervousness. The move makes his coat fall a little over his wrist, revealing a freaking Rolex watch. Dean looks back to the woman, eyes sliding on her diamond earrings and the huge rock around her neck. 

You know what? That's not okay. His stomach has been crying for food since last morning, and he's what? Supposed to help this stranger by saying no to free lunch at one of the most prestigious restaurants in town? Fuck no. He's gonna eat like a king and make a few hundred bucks off the back of those rich assholes. 

"In that case, it would be my pleasure to join you," Dean announces with his most charming smile. 

"What?" Castiel can't help but bark. "But y-your work thing?" he tries, sweating. The round panic eyes are back. Dean sends him his best shit eating grin. They both know he now either has to invite this stranger to lunch or reveal the lie to his mother. The guy is trapped and may as well continue to play along.

"It's not as important as a chance to finally get to know your mother, honey," Dean answers. "He's told me so many nice things about you, Naomi. Can I call you Naomi?"

"Of course, dear," Naomi says. She looks a little wide eyed too, probably thrown by Dean turning on the charm to the max.

"Perfect! We shall go now, we don't want to miss your reservation. I do hope it won't be too much of a bother for them to add a chair to your table," Dean says. He should probably tone it down with the pompous tone, because he nearly added an English accent here. 

Naomi leads the way, and Dean is going to follow when a hand grabbing his arm makes him fall a few steps behind. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Castiel hisses.

"Acting as your boyfriend?" Dean says innocently. By Castiel's glare, he's not fooled. 

"I asked you to nod silently for ten minutes, not to do method acting for a whole meal," he reproaches. Naomi sends a look behind her shoulder and Castiel smiles at her like there is no worries, indicating for her to lead the way, 

Dean shrugs. "I had some free time."

"I'm not giving you more money than planned, if that's your goal," Castiel says with a suspicious squint. 

"I'm fine with the five hundred as long as you're also paying for lunch," Dean says, wiggling his eyebrows as they walk toward the restaurant. Something passes on Castiel's face that Dean can't quite identify. The other man stares at him for so long that it's a wonder he doesn't trip. He finally relents with a long suffering sigh as they enter 'Le Délice'. 

Apparently, Naomi Novak is prominent enough that they don't mind changing her reservation after all. They're seated at a table near a legit indoor fountain. Dean is looking around, trying not to let show how impressed he is by the place. The walls are made of stone and covered in frescos that he always thought you couldn't see outside of a church or castle. A waiter gives him a leather covered menu and Dean opens it eagerly. After a few niceties to Naomi, they're asked what they want to drink. Dean has an inkling that he probably shouldn't ask for a beer in an establishment like this. 

"Same for me, please," he says after Castiel ordered some wine with a name Dean can't pronounce. At least, he hopes that's wine. Who knows. Hell, in this place the bottles of water are probably more expensive than his usual brand of beer. 

Dean starts to second guess his decision when he realizes that the menu is in french. What is it with rich people and France? He just wants a damn steak, how do you say that in french? Is there even steaks here or is it just frog legs and snails? Oh god, he hopes not. 

"I think I'll take the duck today," Naomi notes. "Nobody cooks it better than chef Francis. How about you Dean? Have you ever come here before?" There is a mean glint in her eyes that says she knows perfectly well he hasn't. Hell, from the side eyes he got from everyone as they crossed the room, everyone here knows he's not from their world. There are three holes in his jeans, threads hanging from the bottom and his dad's leather jacket probably should have ended up in the trash about three years ago. Even now, it's still too big for him and the sleeves are so scruffed that they're nearly paper thin. The original dark brown color has turned to a light beige in most places from wear. His scruff is just the bad side of too long now, and he hasn't had a haircut since April, strands starting to fall into his eyes. At least, he's wearing his best plaid shirt and managed to wash up last night, so he's not smelling too rank. Why would Castiel pick him out of all the people in the street at that moment to play his boyfriend? It makes no sense at all. From the guy's obvious discomfort as he hides behind his menu, he probably realizes it. 

"Actually, Naomi, duck sounds like a delicious idea," Dean says, voluntarily ignoring her question. To be honest, he’s never even eaten duck before, but it's poultry so it probably taste like chicken. You can't go wrong with chicken, right? His stomach certainly likes the idea, gurgling so loudly that he has to hide it behind a cough. 

Castiel ends up ordering some fish and soon their drinks arrive. Dean barely has time to sip at his red wine before Naomi pounces. 

"So, tell me everything, how did you two meet?"

Dean nearly chokes on his drink. Castiel seems to gulp down his whole glass. 

"We met at a coffee shop. Dean was in line in front of me and we started to talk," Castiel explains, not quite meeting anyone's eyes.

"How quaint!" Naomi exclaims, clasping her hands in delight. "I'm just sorry that you didn't tell me about it sooner, Castiel. How long have you been keeping this charming man a secret?"

"Not-," Castiel clears his throat, "-not long."

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you Dean. I sure wish this luncheon will give me the chance to learn everything about you."

Luncheon? Who even talks like that outside of Downton Abbey?

"I do hope I'll get to keep some mystery, we wouldn't want this guy to lose interest," Dean says with a wink. He pats Castiel's hand on the table. Should he hold it or something? How open on PDA are gay people those days? Not that he knows more about how heterosexual couple act in public anyway, especially in those crowds. It's probably safer to keep the PDA to a minimum here. 

"You have to at least tell me some things. For one, what career path are you on?" She looks like a shark circling her prey. 

"I'm a mechanic," he lies. He'd rather stay as close to the truth as possible. It's a little unfair that Castiel is letting him do all the talking when his initial demand was that he stayed silent, especially since it's his skin that Dean is apparently saving, but the guy looks like he's swallowed a potato whole. 

"Oh, that's...interesting," Naomi says in that insincere tone of hers. She looks like he told her he was fucking children’s corpses every full moon. He's two seconds away from telling her that he's actually jobless, penniless, and homeless, just to see her face, when Castiel intervenes. 

"How is Anna's engagement party coming on?" 

Thankfully, this seems to be a subject Naomi loves because she tells them about every aspect of the future party all the way through their meal. 

Duck, as it turns out, is actually very good. It's more like red meat than chicken, which is a great surprise. Although, Dean isn't a fan of the way rich people put tiny quantities of food in very large plates. He eats all the dinner rolls and scrapes every single bit of sauce out of his plate, yet he's still hungry by the end of it. He nearly starts crying when the waiter asks them if they'll take dessert and Naomi declines. He's starting to wonder if that little piece of duck was worth sitting through lunch with her. 

"That sounds like you're turning this into a wonderful event, mother, Anna must be delighted," Castiel compliments. 

"Oh, you know your sister," Naomi waves it off. "It sure feels like a nice opportunity to introduce your new beau to everyone."

Dean frowns. What's a beau? Is that him? That's not him, right?

"I wouldn't dare take any attention away from Anna," Castiel tries to refuse. 

"Don't be daft, you know your sister won't care. Everyone will be so happy that you've finally found-" she passes a long look, over Dean, like she's doubting anyone would actually approve of him. She certainly doesn't seem to, "-someone," she finishes lamely. 

"Oh shoot, I don't think I'm available that night," Dean tries to play off. 

"I'm not sure I've told you the date of it yet."

"Cas did," he says. The other man perks up at the surname, but whatever, 'Castiel' is a mouthful. "And I have this huh work thing, you know? Bummer," Dean says with a fake pout. 

"What kind of 'work thing' can a mechanic possibly have on a Saturday evening?"

Dean tenses up, pursing his lips. "One he can't get out of?"

"Nonsense, you're coming," Naomi brushes off. And that is that apparently. Shit. There is a vein about to pop on Castiel's forehead. "Castiel, dear, you look a little white. Was the fish okay?"

"I-Yeah-I-Actually, do you think we could possibly cut our lunch short? I am indeed feeling quite unwell."

"Of course, my dear," Naomi says, leaning forward until her hand touches his forehead. "You're as clammy as a fish. I should come home with you, and make sure you're okay," she announces, taking her napkin off her lap and deposing it on the table, ready to stand up. 

"No!" Castiel stops her, a little too brusquely. "I-Dean will take good care of me, don't worry," he says, getting up and grabbing Dean's arm so he does so too. Dean follows his lead, all too happy to get out of here. "Stay and enjoy your tea, mother."

"If you say so," Naomi says, sending an unsure look at Dean, obviously upset at being brushed off in his favor. "Call me this evening, or I'll worry all night."

"Of course, mother," Castiel acquiesces, kissing her cheek. Dean hovers behind him. Is he supposed to kiss her too? Wave hello? Shake her hand? 

"Dean," she says as what is apparently a sufficient goodbye. Thank God. "I'll be sure to see you on Saturday," she reminds just as they're walking away. 

Cas turns on him as soon as they're outside the restaurant. 

"What was that?!" he asks, not quite yelling. He starts pacing, rubbing a hand through his already pretty ruffled hair. 

"You owing me five hundred bucks? Dude, you're lucky I don't charge you more for the fresh hell I just lived through."

"You went through hell? You?!" his pacing gets faster and Dean has an idea that if he stops pacing he might punch him in the face. 

"That's what you get for asking this kind of stuff from a perfect stranger," Dean shrugs, pushing a pebble with the point of his shoe. His red sock is peeking out from a tiny hole near his big toe. It's such a contrast to how grand everything and everyone looked in there. It's making him feel like shit. He's maybe feeling a tiny bit guilty for trapping Castiel like that too. He doesn't seem like a bad guy, albeit one with a psycho mom.

Cas turns on him, eyes glaring and mouth open in what will probably be a flow of reproaches. He stops himself before he says anything though, seeming to deflate. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe instead, shoulders falling. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should be thanking you. I have no right to make you any reproach when I brought this on myself."

"It wasn't so bad, though, was it? I mean, I think I sold it?" Dean asks, a little hesitant. He even used pedantic talk and everything. 

"You did as well as could be expected."

"That's not much of a compliment…". 

"I shouldn't take more of your time," Cas apologizes, taking his wallet out. Dean goggles at the amount of cash in there. 

"You really shouldn't have that much cash on you, that's, like, asking for trouble."

Castiel squints at him like he's wondering if that means Dean is gonna rob him for a moment, before he hands him a wad of cash. 

Dean's eyes bulge out, "That's way more than five hundred dollars."

"There's also an advance in there to buy some clothes for the engagement party."

"The what now?" Dean blinks dumbly for a second until his brain catches up to what is happening. "Dude, no, I'm done!" 

"You were the one to push it so far in the first place," Castiel reminds. Accuses, really. 

"I just wanted to eat fancy food, okay! Not, like, go steady."

"There will be lots of food at my sister's engagement party," Castiel tries to persuade. Badly. 

Dean gives him a nonplussed look. The cash feels heavy in his hand. He's never had so much before. This could help him get a new start. What's a night of playing Downton Abbey compared to the many many nights he might not have to freeze his ass off in the backseat of his car thanks to it?

"Why are you even doing this anyway? And why would you choose me? Do I look that desperate for cash?"

"No," Cas says after what's definitely a too long pause. Dean scowls. "You were in front of me in the coffee shop line. I heard you talking on the phone. You said you needed some cash to buy a new outfit for a job interview. Begged, really."

"Where the fuck do you get on listening in on other people’s conversation?" 

"I didn't listen, I just heard."

"You know, what? Fuck you," Dean spits, "I don't need that bullshit in my life right now." He has enough cash to get to Austin and replenish his stock of food, even buy some new clothes. At least this way he can keep his dignity rather than being insulted by a bunch of rich assh-

"Please," Castiel begs, following him as Dean storms away. "You don't understand…"

"Oh I understand perfectly," Dean says, stopping and turning around so brusquely that they nearly bump into each other. "You think you can shit on other people from your high horse and that they'll still do your deed for a few hundred bucks. Well, I'm not your freaking puppet, man."

"I have never shitted on any-" he stops himself with a frustrated groan, before turning on the puppy dog eyes. "Dean, please. Listen to what I have to say at least?"

"I know what you're gonna say. I've seen that movie before, Cas. You're going to bring me to that party, so you can parade me around like I'm some earned price or some shit. Meanwhile you get to appease mommy dearest and the clan of hyenas putting pressure on you to find a husband, while still having the satisfaction of giving them a huge fuck you by bringing a guy like me instead of the golden boy they're dreaming of."

"I-" Castiel stops himself, pursing his lips. "That's actually not that far from the reality."

"Of course it isn't. Told you, I've seen that trope before. Except this is real life and your plan sucks, so you can keep your money and I'll keep my dignity. Just grow a pair and tell them all to fuck off, will ya?"

"You sure do like saying that to people," Castiel sulks. "Are you sure you can't do it for me?" 

"Oh believe me I would love to tell your mom to fuck off, but I like my balls attached to my body, so that's a hard pass."

Castiel laughs slightly at that and Dean can feel his own anger start to abate at the sound. "Good self-preservation instinct on your part," Cas mumbles. The puppy look is still there, except now it's making him feel like he's kicked the puppy.  

"You know, we're in the 21st century, right? You shouldn't feel pressured to the point of inventing a boyfriend. Who gives a shit about that nowadays?"

"My family does," Castiel answers in a long sigh. "You don't get it, how could you... I have three brothers, Dean," Castiel explains. "Two sisters. My little sister, who is just nineteen, just got engaged. I was already seen as the irremediably unwed one and now I…," he pauses, sending a nervous look at Dean, looking ashamed.

"Oh come on. How hard can it be? You're rich, objectively good looking. Do you have weird kinks or something?"

��"I-I wouldn't know. I've never even been in a relationship before," he confesses, looking at the ground.

"When you say 'relationship', you don't mean you've never…" Dean inquires. Cas' cheeks redden, and Dean blows like he just got punched. "Wow. That sucks."

"Yes, it's very pathetic."

"What? Eh no, it's not pathetic. Surprising, yeah. But, to each their own, you know?"

Cas inclines his head like he's not sure he does know. 

"I'm sorry I tried to drag you in all of this. You seem like a good man. You don't deserve-"

"-to be served on a platter to your family?" Dean asks, searching Castiel's gaze until they exchange a smile. 

"Yes. That." The man is still looking dejected. The money is still in Dean's hand. That duck really was good. Damn it.

"The food better be freaking awesome," Dean relents with a frustrated grunt. Castiel seems instantly relieved. "And you're not pretty woman-ing me," he warns, pointing a finger at the other man. "I'm choosing my own clothes and I don't give a shit if I don't know which fork to use for fish."

Castiel's head is tilted and he's blinking owlishly, like he doesn't understand a word that Dean is saying. Figures. He's not sure how he could convince anyone that he's this dork's boyfriend, honestly. Naomi certainly looked like she wasn't fooled. 

"I'm sorry for the way my mother behaved toward you. I assure you, being yourself will be amply sufficient to the task."

"Dude, the way y'all talk, where do you come from, Victorian England?"

"I-I don't think I have English ancestry, no. Why?"

They blink at each other for some time. 

"I must be a freaking masochist."

Cas' face scrunches up even more in incomprehension. 

"Okay, let's be clear on one thing from the start. This is not a lifetime movie and I'm straight, so: no falling in love, get it?"

"I get it, Dean," Castiel nods. 

Well, that's it then, apparently Dean is going to a fancy engagement party with his new boyfriend. What a weird day... 

You can read the rest on AO3

[2idiots]

Keep Yourself Alive

pt. 6 // pt. 7 // pt. 8a

word count: 1,667ish

NCT Frat Social Media AU // College Athlete & Fratboy Lucas x reader

warnings: not really any, kind angsty, more than just mentions of chronic pain

(I don't know how but the second paragraph got deleted when I first uploaded. I have since added it in. So if you see something new that's why)

---

Getting Johnny from outside the building to inside your room was a lot more difficult than you expected. This was partially because your best friend was much drunker than his texts suggested and partially because each step was sending a pain reverberating down your legs and up your abdomen. A pain that you knew the mild over-the-counter pain meds would do little to numb but you had taken them with false hope anyway. Before your best friend had forced you into letting his drunkass in you were curled into your bed with a heating pad pressed into your abdomen, hoping eventually exhaustion would win over excruciating pain.

This was the real reason you bolted out of Jet Lag the minute your friends were off in different directions distracted. The pain had triggered before Mark's open mic night started but you were not about to miss the night you friend had been talking about for weeks. This was so important to him and you had to be there. So you sucked it up and promised yourself to duck out the moment it was clear and Mark had performed. Woo noticing and staying over for a few hours was just a welcomed surprise. And the leftover baked goods he brought were another plus side, not that you had any appetite. At least your blubbering fool of a friend would benefit from the pile of pastries sitting on your desk, if you could make it past the giggling desk attendant.

The first time you walked passed her with bleary eyes, focused on only the task ahead she called out something about the “cute Oppa” at the door. Immediately a gag raced up your throat at that, Johnny? A cute Oppa? Gross. He was like your brother, actually more like your overprotective mother. Sure you joked about Johnny being a daddy, but it was all shits and giggles to make him mad with Mark. He wasn't actually one.  The second time she made some sort of pass at him that you blocked out and stifled another gag. You didn’t need to see or hear that child making passes at your best friend.

That wasn’t the only thing she was giggling at though. You and Johnny were quite the sight. He was a stumbling, stuttering fool and you were wearing pajamas that had been picked out in the dark, not even your shoes matched. These were things you had thrown on when Johnny begged you to let him in but your headache was pounding too much to turn the lights on, which was also the reason for the sunglasses. 

Speaking of Big Foot, he was using you almost completely as a support and he weighed a lot more than his bony ass looked. How he managed to make it to your building from 7th Sense was beyond you, he could barely make it three steps without giggling and sliding around. Honestly this made you more than a little nervous for Mark, usually he was the giggly one after a few drinks. If Johnny was this drunk, then Mark could very well be dead.

Overall the hardest obstacle for Johnny to maneuver around was your actual room. He tripped over everything. Maybe it was his long spindly legs combined with the alcohol, but he even fell just trying to walk over your rug. You had to catch him before he face planted. Of course he just contiuned blabbering about the night and how well it went the whole time, even while laughing at his clumsiness. “Then Mark fell! Kinda like how he is falling for sunflower boy but like fell… on the actual ground… like how I just almost fell!” To which you just nodded, handing him a pastry and an ice cold water bottle. “And Jae was so funny, he was talking about the basketball team and one of their parties last week where someone drank beer from a ball that had been cut in half. Isn’t that gross?”

“Yeah babe, real gross,” You nodded, trying to push him toward your bed. You might not have been asleep before he messaged but you were still in bed ready to sleep and you wanted to be back there. “Can you get in bed, Jojo? I'll tired.”

Following your direction like a lost lamb, Johnny swiftly removed all his out layers and climbed into your bed continuing to talk about the basketball team and how pretty and funny they were, all the while giving you very pointed looks. Or at least he was prattling on until he went completely silent and tense before screeching, “THERE’S SOMETHING WARM!”

Arms crossed and irritation pulsed through you at the scream, you leaned over to pull the heating pad out from under him and wiggled it around in your outstretched hand, “Johnny you’ve met HP before, HP meet Big Foot.”

“HP? You named your heating pad?” He questioned already snuggling back into your sheets like he owned the bed. This happened every time he was over, sober or drunk it didn’t matter; Johnny took up every blanket and pillow in your entire bed: partially because his size, mostly because he was an asshole. One of the many reasons you were hesitant to let him stay over anymore, even though you always ended up letting him stay.

“Might as well, he’s in my bed so often,” You grinned before grabbing another water bottle out of the mini fridge in the corner of the room and tossing it his direction. While this wasn’t a common occurrence, drunk Johnny, you did know that he would wake up in three hours whining about a dry mouth and you didn't want to deal with it.

“I mean he wasn’t on Halloween.” Luckily you flipped the lights off before you could see his suggestive eyebrow wiggle. Here was the worst part, talkative drunk Johnny taking an interest in your life and trying to lay down his tips on life. 

Grabbing an extra blanket for yourself you slid in next to him and laughed that thought off, “Actually HP was, ALSO I thought we agreed to not talk about Halloween, leave the past behind us and all.”

“Behind us? Is that how you like it y/n?” He let out a slight whimper when you turned over enough to give him a solid kick to the shin. This alcohol was giving him far more confidence than normal and you didn’t like it. Throwing his hands up, Johnny tossed out a worthless apology and whined, “I deserved that ok. But you know I wouldn’t call it the past, don’t you tutor the dude?”

That elicited a quiet response from you, a simple, “Yeah.”

“Isn’t it like two or three times a week?” He didn’t stop his incessant babbling long enough for you to answer, adding on, “You’re quite popular, my friends keep asking about you too.” Then a switch suddenly flipped in Johnny’s mind, evident by how he practically climbed over you to switch the lamp back on and give you his best mom glare, “Wait, you’re sleeping with HP?” You let out a few weak protests as the light flooded your room and his bony ass arm squished you down into the bed digging into your side. Drunk friends sucked. Too bad you loved them too much to leave them on the street. “So you’re in pain? You’re in pain and you didn’t say anything? You just went home alone and lied to Mark and me?”

“Johnny I always sleep with a heating pad and I’m always in pain. It's not a big deal.” Tonight just happened to be bad, still was, but you left that part out. “Also Jungwoo just left; I wasn’t alone.” That was accompanied by a successful effort to push him off so you could flip the light off again and snuggle into the heating pad again. “Now go to sleep, I'm tired.”

There was a brief moment of silence before you heard sniffling and an occadsional shuffle.

“Are you crying?” You asked incredulously, flipping over to see him hastily wiping away his tears in the ambient light filtering in through the window. Sure enough, your bitch-ass best friend was laying on the other side of the bed using his white undershirt to wipe his tears away. At least he was smart enough not to use your sheets as the tissue. “Stop crying.” This was new. Your friends probably knew way too much about how hard your days were getting, in fact Johnny had driven you to the ER one too many times over the past year and a half, but they had never cried in front of you. At least not about you. 

You hated it.

His immediate response was denial, no he wasn’t crying. These weren’t tears, they were allergies. "Leaks in my face." But you still heard him mutter a muted “I just want you to be happy and not in pain” as the alcohol running through his system finally knocked him out.

You were struck silent, not sure how to respond. Sure he was your closest friend and that meant he had to like you, but this affection made breathing a little hard: your chest not quite expanding like it should. You felt a warm tear roll down your cheek as you turned to face the other side of the room, an effort to get away. This was exactly why you didn't tell them about tonight, you didn't want them burdened with your pain. They should have to suffer just because you were. 

Ignoring the ache in your chest, you blindly reached out for where you set your phone on the bedside table. You still may not be able to sleep but you could get some reading done and maybe forget the sound of Johnny's tears. And maybe, just maybe, the words would lull you into some dreamlike state so you could rest. It was only a few minutes into reading that a text interrupted the chapter. 

summary: College is hard enough, right? Coursework, two jobs, a social life, and the state of your mental health. As if that was enough now the school’s no.1 athlete won’t leave you alone after a one night stand. And maybe you like him back but you have a tendency to run when life gets too difficult especially now that undiagnosed chronic pain just seems to be getting worse with each passing month.

(I've decided updates will be Thursday at 6pm. I hope you enjoy this chapter)

Taglist: @princeofshenzhenuwus

[atowncalledmalec]

That's actually really sweet

A small breakdown of the trailer that we got before 3B started. I wrote this a couple of months ago but still wanted to post it here.

Angst, a glimpse of Magnus' mental health after losing his magic.

Magnus sighed, blinking in the dim light of predawn as he rolled over, after exactly no hours of sleep. He studied Alec's sleeping form in the meager light, listening to the soft snores that emanated from his boyfriend, trying to use the sound to block out the whirling mess in his head.

With another sigh, a deeper one, Magnus rolled back over. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and dropped his head into his hands, scrubbing at his face as if he could wipe all of the loneliness, the hurt and anger and confusion away with the motion.

One last look over his shoulder at Alec's sleeping form had Magnus standing, as graceful as ever, even if his body felt odd, foreign to him.

That will be the loss of your magic dear.

Shying away from that thought, Magnus stumbled into his closet, decidedly not thinking about the fact that he would have to search by hand through rack upon rack of clothes, to find something to wear.

Magnus simply grabbed the first things his hands landed on and snapped his fingers to remove his silk pyjamas before the memories of what he had lost stabbed him in the gut. The wound went deeper than any he had suffered over the centuries he had already endured.

Allowing one solitary tear to fall before pushing it away, Magnus shrugged out of his clothing, forgoing the shower he didn't have the energy to take, and started pulling his chosen outfit on.

Red shirt, black pinstripe slacks, suspenders. You've worn this one before bane!

Who cares, it's just clothes. Alexander doesn't care if I've worn them before.

With that thought running through his head, Magnus gave his appearance a cursory glance in the full length mirror in his closet before wandering out into his bedroom.

With eyes lingering on Alec, watching his Shadowhunter in the vanity mirror, Magnus took a seat and started pulling his war paint out. He swiped a dusting of eyeshadow over each lid before staring critically at his work.

“It's been far too long since you've done this by hand and you look ridiculous,” Magnus muttered to himself, grabbing a wipe and scrubbing it off.

Stars sparkled in his eyes when he emerged from the wipe, having dug into them just that little bit too hard. Blinking helped take his mind off of the fact that he had to wipe it off in the first place.

Magnus grabbed his eyeliner, the one part of his makeup routine that he always did by hand, and pulled his lower lids down, ignoring how bloodshot his eyes looked, to line his eyes before he closed them and ran the pencil through his scrunched lids once more, coating the waterline of his top lids too.

With a final smudge at the excess, Magnus studied his face in the mirror once more. I'll just say that I was going for a new look if anyone asks.

Swiping his hand over his face once more, Magnus’ gaze caught on the chipped polish on his nails. He grabbed the bottle of nail polish remover and swiped it over the leftover fragments of polish on his nails, trying not to think on how closely the fragments resembled his life. Cracked, chipped, faded… lacking.

That thought sapped the last of Magnus’ will to pretty himself up. Leaving his nails polish free, he swung his legs, blinking as he wondered what to do now. He had to keep busy, lest he crumble like the polish that had blemished his nails.

“Breakfast, yes, I'm sure Alexander will need some breakfast after all of the energy he lost during battle.”

The words came softly, softer than his voice usually came out but they were Magnus’ salvation. A purpose. A distraction. A way to make some use of his now useless body.

Without a minute to lose, Magnus strode from the room, walking quickly to the kitchen to cook up a feast.

Of course, he didn't actually know how to use any of the modern contraptions his kitchen was filled with. Of course, he didn't know how to un-magically whip up a breakfast that was fit for a king… or a recovering Shadowhunter. And, of course, there was no actual food in his refrigerator.

The market! The farmers market three blocks away. I'll find something there!

Rushing for the front door, grateful to have something to do, Magnus just about managed to catch the door on its backswing, a split second before it closed, with a thudding heart.

Keys. Phone. Money. Your fucking sanity!

They were all things he had never had to worry about before. A snap of his fingers, a flick of his wrist, hell, one elegant swirl of his fingers was usually all Magnus needed to shop or get in touch with people or to let himself to into his own fucking home!

A stuttering, ragged, torment filled breath ripped from him as he clutched the door frame for support, allowing the moment of weakness when there was nobody to see it. He was unsure of what was worse, the churning of his stomach or the thundering, swirling shit storm, running through his head.

Magnus took one, two, three deep breaths in before he straightened, spine erect, and stomped back into his apartment to snatch his keys and some money up. The image of having to press his buzzer and wait out in the cold for Alec to let him in because he had left his keys went as quickly as it came.

Squaring his shoulders once more, Magnus shoved his things into the pockets of his pants and strode out of the door, head held high as he made his way through the building, riding the elevator in quiet contemplation.

A chill breeze was the first indication to Magnus that he had made it outside. He barely paid attention to the cold wind and the barley rising sun as he started towards the farmers market, running through the list of ingredients in his head.

A momentary smile graced Magnus’ lips as he recalled the one time, just a couple of short weeks ago, when Alec had made his stew, calling the ingredient list his “instructions”. Is that all it is, just a couple of weeks? He wondered to himself, it feels like centuries.

A tiredness washed through him in that moment as every single one of the years that he had existed crept up on him, all at once. They almost had him falling to his knees, the weight of those years too much to bear. Centuries.

I've been alive centuries and in all of that time, I've never faced something of this magnitude, Magnus thought.

Never once had Magnus had to think about those countries dwindling to decades, to a handful of years. His life hd always been endless, inevitable, permanent, his immortality unbending to the passage of time. Those concerns are for mortals, beings with shorter lifespans, right? Not for him. Not for the son of a demon.

His feet started moving again, the harsh wind making him snap his fingers to conjure a jacket before he could catch himself. It would be easy to pull a scowl onto his face. To snarl at the cruelty of his father's demand but his face just went slack as he wandered down the street, not one of the thousand emotions that swirled through him able to find purchase on his face.

Magnus blinked when his legs almost went from beneath him, from the uneven ground he had stumbled on. Looking up as he righted his steps, he found the reason that the ground had changed beneath his feet, maybe not metaphorically, but certainly physically. The edge of the sidewalk.

Magnus turned left and started wandering through the stalls, listening to the calling of vendors, allowing their crass shouts to drown out the thoughts that were parading through his mind on a never ending loop.

There was something soothing about it, about witnessing life going on around him when it felt like his own had come to an end. If these mundanes can exist without magic, then I can too. Right?

A stall that sold breakfast food snagged Magnus' attention, forcing him to focus rather than sink into his own head once more. He ran his fingers over the soft eggshells, thinking of their fragility and relating to them all too easily, silently wondering how many he would need.

Scooping up half a dozen, hoping they would be enough, Magnus held them carefully to his chest, pulling on a tight smile for the woman watching him. He juggled the eggs as he searched through the pastries that were on offer, selecting a couple of the largest croissants and adding them to the pile of precious eggs.

A crate of oranges snagged Magnus’ attention next. Freshly squeezed juice, that will be a nice addition. How many though? Three? Four? There's only two of us.

Picking up two plump oranges, Magnus added them to pile that he was now juggling, cursing his lack of ability to simply snap up a basket to carry them in. That lack of magical skill had him giving up. He smiled at the woman, waiting to serve him, and managed to juggle his haul into her hands.

Barely paying attention to the woman, Magnus scooped his wallet out of his pocket and handed a twenty over, thinking that it should be enough. He felt no shame in admitting to himself that it had been a long while since he had had to worry about something as mundane as paying for croissants and eggs.

Accepting the bag that the lady handed him, and completely missing the expression on her face… not that he would have been able to decipher it if he had, Magnus made his way back to his building, deciding to buy a rose on a whim as he passed a flower stall on his way out of the market.

Magnus meandered back to his building, standing uncertainty outside of the door for a moment before he remembered he would have to dig his keys out. He pulled them from his pocket, staring at the keys and the little fob before he remembered when the mundane had showed him around the apartment.

Magnus held the fob to he small panel above the buttons, starting when the door clicked open. He grabbed the handle and pulled, slightly impressed with the technology that the mundanes had come up with, in place of magic. His mind wandered again when he ducked into the elevator and rode it up to his floor.

Knowing that he would have to actually face Alec at some point, Magnus tried to run through what expressions he would put on his face, already hoping that his voice wouldn't crack when they had to speak.

A tiny part of Magnus’ brain thought of the Shadowhunters part in the loss of his magic. It had been his decision, one he knew that he would make again, in an instant, but it still hurt that he had had to make the decision in the first place, especially in light of the fact that the reason he had lost his magic hadn't been seen since they had discovered Clarys death.

Jace had run away as soon as he had announced the news, leaving him to try and get in touch with Cat to move Alec back to the loft, and to deal with the loss of his magic and Clary all in the same breath.

With straining lungs, as the implications of what that meant rolled through him, Magnus looked around his kitchen, desperately pushing thoughts of Clary's death aside, the questions he had been trying to banish over the last thirty hours surfaced once more. Do I blame him? Do I blame them all?

But Magnus couldn't deal with that now, he had to prepare Alec's breakfast, keep busy, ignore the implications and the consequences of his lost magic. It was the best way, the only way to get through the coming days.

Humming a tune under his breath, because he was fine and it kept his mind busy, Magnus emptied his groceries out onto the kitchen side, forgetting the fact that he couldn't remember getting out of the elevator.

Magnus stared at the croissants, eyeing them as one would eye a confusing puzzle before his gaze slid to the microwave that he had never used. He opened the door and tossed the pastries inside, staring at the control pad as though the instructions would light up and show him the way.

With a shrug, Magnus started pressing buttons, jabbing harder and harder at them until the infernal contraption lit up and the food started turning before he turned his attention to the eggs.

“A simple omelette should suffice,” Magnus muttered, rifling through the cupboards and drawers for a bowl and fork, it was a much more successful endeavour than the microwave. At least I know how to work the hob, even if the damn oven evades me.

Magnus soon had the eggs whipped up and cooking in a frying pan, his eyes glued to the eggs because it was easier to pour all of his attention into ensuring the food didn't burn than it was to let his mind wander.

The pinging of the microwave had Magnus dropping the wooden spoon and dashing towards the machine. He pulled the door open and grabbed hold of the red hot pastries, muttering a string of curses under his breath as he yanked his hand back and blew on it.

Snatching a dishcloth up, Magnus yanked the pastries out and slammed them down on a plate, wishing with everything inside of him that he could portal himself to Paris and pick some fresh, already warm pastries up and offer them to Alec. He even contemplated trying it in his desperation.

But, before he could raise his hand, a crackling sound rang out through the kitchen. That was almost the moment he lost it, turning around to see the eggs on their way to burning.

Dashing across the kitchen before the pan could catch fire, Magnus snatched the pan up off the hob and slammed it down on the countertop before his legs gave way.

Sliding down the side of the cupboard, onto the floor, Magnus crumpled. Knees to his chest, his arms wrapping around them, he raked his hands through his hair as the tears started gathering in the corners of his eyes.

Can't even get through making one breakfast the mundane way. How the fuck am I supposed to make it the rest of the way? How am I going to survive however long I'm allotted now, if I can't even cook a fucking omelette?

Knowing that his breathing was picking up, his stomach somewhere back at the farmers market, back where he had found Alec, filled with arrows and trying to make jokes, back in Edom. Take your pick. Magnus tried to regulate his reactions.

Magnus tried to fight the empty, lonely, powerless feeling that wanted to swamp him every other second, to take him over and drag him down the hole that he was unsure he would be able to climb out of but it felt like a losing battle. It was too much, everything fighting for ground and trying to take precedence at the forefront of his mind.

Magnus didn't want to feel, he wanted to be numb, to fall asleep and wake up to Alec telling him it had all been a nightmare or not wake up at all. He wanted to hide from the world that always demanded too much but never gave back a fraction of what his sacrifices were worth.

But I can't, because I'm Magnus Bane, High War…

Magnus Bane, friend, confident, boyfriend. I'm the one that solves problems, the one everyone turns to, every time. I'm the dependable one, not the man who gets to have a day off from the demands placed upon him.

Scrubbing the tears from his face and taking a deep breath, Magnus stood and looked down at his “creation”. It wasn't horrendous, maybe a dark spot, here and there but it looked edible… perhaps. Sighing a deep breath out, he flipped it onto the plate with the croissants, cutting any dark bits off and turned to his oranges, pushing his self pity to the back of his mind.

“I should have got more,” Magnus muttered to himself, staring at the ridiculously small amount of juice in the glass when he had squeezed the two solitary oranges out. Pursing his lips, he placed it on a tray with the plate, placed the rose in a milk jug and picked it up, taking deep breaths on his way to his bedroom.

The soft snores Alec was making had Magnus’ stomach settling a fraction, a small amount of the weight he was carrying sliding from his shoulders at the adorable sounds. He had spent the night listening to them, unable to sleep, and still he ached to hear more but he needed to keep busy, not wallow.

So carrying the tray towards his vanity, Magnus set it down and pondered the best way to wake Alec. He knew from experience that a gentle shake and soft words wouldn't cut it so he decided the simplest approach was the best and strode over to the curtains.

“Come on, Pup, time rise and face the day,” Magnus said as he shoved the curtains open, a bright shaft of light brightening the room in an instant. There, that's normal, right? He asked himself before turning to find Alec, cringing back from the light.

“Pup?” Alec asked when he was so rudely awoken, trying to cover his eyes from the burning sensation of the sunlight. Is he trying out a nickname?

“Panda?” Magnus asked, wondering if Alec would like that one better.

“No!” Alec said, racking his brain for a cell that was working.

“Okay,” Magnus said quietly, returning to the vanity to collect Alec's breakfast as he fixed his best smile in place. I can do this, I can do normal. For him, for his sake. I. Can. Do. Normal.

Even if it was actually for his own sake.

“Why is it so early?” Alec groaned, rolling into his side to bury his face in the pillows, hoping for more sleep.

The next words out of Magnus’ mouth had Alec sitting up. He tried to adjust to the light and being awake and the way Magnus was moving across the room, his boyfriend's spine semi erect and an easy look on his face. Huh?

“Oh, with everything going on, sleep has been a bit of a struggle,” Magnus allowed himself to share as he returned with Alec's breakfast.

Alec looked up at Magnus properly as he fully sat up, taking his outfit in.

“Why are you dressed?” Alec asked when Magnus slid a tray of food onto the end of the bed..

“Oh, I had to get up early to go to the farmers market before dawn, for the ingredients for our breakfast. Which… admittedly, is less than… perfect. But do you know how many oranges are required to make a glass of juice…?” Magnus asked, picking up the half empty glass.

Alec picked up a croissant inspecting it as Magnus raised the glass and inspected the contents at eye level.

“...More than I bought. I used to have magic to do all of these little errands but, I have to admit, there's a certain… charm to doing things the mundane way,” Magnus said casually, smiling his best smile. He did his best not to notice Alec's expression, ploughing on as though everything was fine.

“Is today a special occasion?” Alec asked, squinting up at Magnus, seeing all of the truths Magnus was attempting to hide behind his smiles and his casual movements.

“Well, today is your day off and I want to make the most of it,” Magnus said softly, sliding the tray closer to Alec with a smile.

Alec's stared at Magnus, his eyes narrowing at his boyfriend's blase attitude as the tray was pushed forward. Magnus still hadn't talked to him, about losing his magic or his trip to Edom. He desperately wanted Magnus to open up, to scream or yell, to rightfully blame him because it was his Parabatai Magnus had saved. To do anything other than what Magnus was doing now, pretending.

But Alec also recognised the defence mechanism, it was one he employed himself. Smile, show the world that it doesn't affect you. Pretend that you aren't falling apart and pray that nobody looks too closely. He understood those reactions all too well and still fell back on them now.

Alec had two options , he could force the issue, force Magnus to talk before he was ready to, while the wounds where still to fresh… or he could let Magnus come round. He could let Magnus come to the conclusion that he was pushing him away, and wait until Magnus had gotten it together in his own head.

“That's actually really sweet,” Alec said with a small smile of his own, trying not to purse his lips. He wanted Magnus to open up but knew it had to be in his own time, at his own pace. And it was sweet, that Magnus wanted to look after him, even if Magnus’ hurt was worse than his own and he didn't really deserve it.

“Uhm, I thought so,” Magnus said with a small shrug and another smile.

Alec leaned in for a kiss, wanting to let Magnus know, even if he didn't say the words, that he was there, ready to listen when Magnus was ready to talk or scream or fight. He almost fell on his face when Magnus broke the kiss that was barely a brush.

Magnus didn't have a choice, he couldn't wrap himself up in Alec and sink into the kiss, couldn't allow Alec to comfort him. He knew that if he held on too long, he would break, he wouldn't be able to hold it all inside and be strong in front of his boyfriend. So he pulled back after a few seconds and scooped the glass of juice up.

“Drink up, time for our morning exercise,” Magnus said, fighting every emotion with a centuries long practiced pretension that he had perfected, pretending that nothing could hurt him. Try as he might though, he couldn't do it. Not with Alec. So he stood, jumping to his feet far too quickly, even to him, and dashed from the room.

Alec accepted the glass and watched Magnus go, his face dropping. He clutched the glass, his resolve almost breaking, almost jumping up and demanding Magnus talk to him.

Alec stood, pacing the floor. He understood, to a certain degree. Not about Magnus losing his magic, he would never understand that, couldn't even begin to imagine it. But he understood what it was to feel vulnerable, to feel weak and out of control in front of those who always saw you as strong.

A thought rolled into Alec's brain as he turned on his heel once more, a way for Magnus to take some control back.

“If Magnus wants exercise, I know exactly how to give it to him.” Alec muttered, throwing some boxers on and following Magnus into the living room.

“Magnus, get your stuff, you're coming training with me,” Alec said, squeezing Magnus’ hand when he saw the red rims of his boyfriend's eyes.

Alec could give Magnus the time he needed to come around and make sure he could protect himself at the same time.

[40sandfabulousaf]

大家好! Combating food waste is a priority due to the combination of our government's push towards sustainable living, food becoming more expensive due to high inflation and hotels trying to protect profit margins. Treatsure is an app which allows people to fill a box with leftovers from buffets at a fraction of the dine-in price. Customers can save money and enjoy delicious food at the same time. Check out the following article to see how this works.

Another priority for our government: assisted living public housing for retirees. The gorgeous retirement kampungs (villages) are equipped with enhanced safety features such as handle grips, non-slip flooring and wider doors which accommodate wheelchairs. Services such as housekeeping, laundry and meal deliveries are available for a fee. This initiative aims to enable our precious elderly to lead more independent lives after retirement. The flats exude modern minimalistic vibes - very nice!

Inflation or not, our country forges ahead with green living. A few days ago, it was raining at the office and I said to DT, in the past I'd never seen skies so dark at 3pm that it seemed as if it was already evening. Storms and winds have grown more violent during the rainy months in recent years. I'm not a climate change activist by any means, but I do see the importance of doing what we can. Our government's push to expand use of renewable energy takes us in the right eco-friendly direction.

Moving onto food, 1 of the yummiest ways to eat enough veggies is yong tau foo. This week, I tried ma la yong tau foo for the first time and the fiery red broth was so delicious! The spice kept me warm when it began raining in the late afternoon. No wonder Grace has been singing praises about ma la dishes for ages! Maybe I'll ask LL to introduce me to an authentic ma la hotpot place when we catch up next month.

酿豆腐 yong tau foo $8.10

麻辣酿豆腐 ma la yong tau foo $11.10

I almost forgot that I'd wanted to really rest and recharge during my block leave and was ready to fill up the social calendar. Thank goodness I remembered in time and stopped myself, or it will affect how refreshed I feel when I return to work! There will be a few good meals though because yum. Meanwhile, I'll share the treat with Grace and Douglas in the next post. 下次见!