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thesolferino · 4 years ago

Text

Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!”

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.”

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?”

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.”

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet?

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend.

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes.

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you.

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?”

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed.

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up.

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks.

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought.

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him.

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in.

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him.

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well.

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you.

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend.

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?”

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister.

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!”

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you.

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out.

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him.

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else.

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though?

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place.

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room.

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home.

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls”

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right”

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait.

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend.

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin.

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones.

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?!

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown.

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream.

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway.

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive.

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it.

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people.

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?”

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?”

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.”

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.”

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should.

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well.

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.” you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.”

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.”

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good.

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good.

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you.

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you.

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand.

“What?”

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it.

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty.

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it.

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was.

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it.

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning.

“Kiss me.”

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.”

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good.

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes.

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad.

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken angst #dream x reader #dream x you #dreamwastaken x y/n

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not-the-tie-youre-looking-for · 3 years ago

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hello beloved buddy!! can u tell me samakro and wutroow's orders for, uh , space chipotle 🥺 also if they were to do each other's hair what styles would each one immediately go for?

OUGHHHHHH OMG OFC

ok sooooo chipotle orders:

samakro gets a burrito bowl with whatever the chiss analogue for sofritas (he finds that sometimes when he gets meat that hasn’t been cooked a certain way he gets sick so better safe than sorry!) and puts lots of chiss brown rice and pinto beans on it!!!! add some cheese and maybe a scoop of chiss guacamole and he’s set! he usually also gets one of their fancy fruit drinks too :D

wutroow, on the other hand, is always hungry and has a stomach of steel. she usually gets a burrito with white rice, chiss chicken, and black beans, and adds cheese, sour cream, corn, and a side of guacamole with her order! she also gets the fruit drinks there but when she needs the extra caffeine boost she’ll grab a pep’ka (chiss dr pepper) instead :D

if both of them aren’t hungry enough for a full meal they’ll split a cheese quesadilla and chips :)

ok now the hair is a bit tricky!!! they have very different types of hair so the first few times they do style the other’s it’s a bit of a disaster—but they figure it out through the years and have certain styles they like to do:

so when samakro does wutroow’s hair, depending on if it’s natural or if she has braids he’ll either do an afro puff of some kind (maybe three down the center, similar to Rey’s hair! 🤔) or pull some braids into a ponytail with a scrunchie and leave the rest down :) it took him a bit to learn all of the hair products she has to use, but he’s got it down to an art now!

wutroow can’t do much with samakro’s hair when it’s short, but she does enjoy shaving designs into his undercut! sometimes it’s fancy cheunh, and other times it’s just simple geometric designs! she convinced him one time to part his hair down the middle and add some braids, but he wasn’t a fan so they mostly stick to fancy ponytails and buns! :)

i hope you like these 🥺🥺🥺

#tye answers asks #I LOVE THIS ASK MOLLY I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS #samakro and wutroow #samakro wutroow besties agenda #spreading the samakro wutroow friendship agenda 💪#thrawn #star wars #chiss #thrawn ascendancy #headcanons #samakro #wutroow #ufsa'mak'ro #kiwu'tro'owmis #kiwu’tro’owmis my beloved #samakro can’t do edges by the way he still hasn’t quite figured that out ASDFGHJKL

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fall-out-boytoy · 3 years ago

Note

Dump fun facts about yourself

IRL fun facts? *rubs hands together* heheheheheh this'll be fun

I will frequently go to Chipotle and order nothing but two large sides of rice

I read econ books for fun

I play electric bass in a Joan Jett cover band (we also play Pretenders and Blondie, but I only play Joan Jett. Points if you can figure out the band's name based on this information.)

I have a rotating catalogue of band shirts (today's is the cover of Incesticide by Nirvana)

I like cars! And trains! And planes! And trucks! And most any form of transportation! (I'm considering becoming a trucker when I grow up!)

I feel like I've said this before, but I can read and write Irken. My debate teacher is convinced it's "secret code" and refers to me as "secret code kid". This is fine with me, as I do enjoy actual codes. Also [learning] Spanish. That may or may not be related.

I hate chocolate. All types, all forms. I'm not allergic, I just hate the taste. Relatedly, the only candies I'll eat are Swedish Fish, gummy bears, candy corn, and sometimes Smarties.

I have a...complex relationship with food. Carbs and dairy are the only mainstays.

I own uhh *glances over at bookshelf* 40-something IZ comic issues, including variant covers. This is the product of 7+ hours driving around looking for them

According to my mom, I taught myself to read when I was two. Mom only noticed because I "corrected" her pronunciation of phone, insisting it was pronounced "puh hone"

oh i suppose I should maybe put in a bit about my physical form too. uhh short brown-but-used-to-be-reddish hair (I'm working on growing it out for my halloween costume), blue-gray-a-little-bit-of-green eyes, 5 foot 2 unfortunately, perpetual habit of walking on my toes (which may or may not be to make myself look taller)

I'm in a couple other fandoms, namely Minecraft and xkcd. I use different usernames though so good luck finding me there

Cold weather is a THOUSAND times better than hot. My ideal temperature is 60 degrees and a hoodie

One time when I was like 5-6 I fell on the corner of a glass table and got my face sliced open

oh also one time I went to the hospital for a sunburn. I will not elaborate (unless you ask)

uhhh that's it for now unless you have any more specific facts you want me to share!

#pants shush #ask #tinypurplespacemoose ask

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actorfrustration · 4 years ago

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Damned If I Do Ya

Title: Damned If I Do Ya Chapter: One-Shot Pairing: Pedro/OC Rating: M Fic Summary: Elaine is Pedro’s neighbor. They meet when he accidentally gets her food order.

[A/N - Written with @rav3n-pascal22. Yes the title is taken from an All Time Low song because I was struggling with a title and I was listening to them yesterday.]

Somewhere in New York, there’s a little suburban neighborhood. It’s relatively quiet aside for the block parties and barbecues.

My names Elaine and I live in the last house on the street. 22 and still living in the same house I grew up in. Sad right?

My life was easy. It’s alright, except I have the place to myself all the time. I don’t mind it as much anymore though.

As for my creators, their overworked zombies who don’t have much free time nowadays. I’ve gotten used to being alone. I almost prefer it now. I do chores whenever the mood strikes me.

Luckily my parents wire me money for food and groceries, but I wouldn’t need it anyway. I’m a Twitch streamer, so I make a fair amount of money from that. I don’t do much. I just mostly play video games in a pair of sweatpants and a sports bra.

Some days I just get on and talk to my friends. “Yeah, I still have the place to myself. Life is good,” I said, responding to the chat on my computer. You could practically feel the sarcasm in my tone.

My phone dinged, Uber Eats notifying me that my food had been delivered. I had been craving a chicken sandwich from Chipotle. I know that’s the most millennial thing ever, but hey, it’s good.

I got up and put on a hoodie before checking the door, but no one was there. I grabbed my phone and checked the app again. “Huh, this thing must be having issues. It says it’s here, but it’s not.”

I shut the door and was about to leave a review when there was a knock. I threw open the door and saw an older man standing there holding my order.

He was pretty attractive with chocolate brown eyes, slightly curly hair, and tanned skin. He had a nice mustache, a patchy beard, and naturally pouty lips.

“It’s about time. I was about leave a bad review on your page.”

“Umm, I’m your neighbor.”

I blushed in embarrassment. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry.”

The man laughed. “It’s okay.” He walked in without me inviting him in. Normally I would’ve been freaked out, but he seemed nice enough.

He set my food on the kitchen table and looked around. When he turned back to me, he smiled and said, “I’m Pedro.”

“Elaine.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you at home alone? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

I put my hands on my hips. “I’m 22 for your information.”

Pedro threw his hands up in surrender. “I meant no offense. Are you home alone a lot? I don’t see cars in the driveway very often.”

“My parents are workaholics. I think they just spend the nights in their offices.”

“I’m sorry. You must be very lonely.”

I shrugged. “I have my friends.” I pointed to my TV where he could the chat. “I stream nearly every day, so there’s always someone online.”

“I should let you eat. But if you ever need anything, I’m only a few doors down.”

“Thank you, Pedro. That means a lot.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I was streaming a few days later when a new username popped up that I didn’t recognize. P-rascal45. I was used to random people dropping into my chat, but this one was different. They didn’t have a profile picture, so I had no idea what they looked like or how old they were.

P-rascal45: God, you’re gorgeous baby girl.

XxMinxyxX: Thank you.

P-rascal45: A body like yours deserves to be worshipped.

XxMinxyxX: Oh yeah?

I felt a little naughty doing this in my chat where everyone could see, but maybe if I encouraged it I would get more tips. I knew of some streamers that did naughty things to get more money while still posting their usual content.

XxMinxyxX: And what would you do to me?

P-rascal45: First, I’d take off that tight little bra of yours and suck on those pretty nipples until they’re hard and throbbing in pain.

I bit my lip and tried to contain the whimper building in the back of my throat. Heat was pooling between my legs. I’d never been this turned on in my life.

P-rascal45: Then I’d peel off those leggings of yours and wrap your legs around my waist. My hand would wrap around your throat cutting off the whimpers and moans that would be leaving your mouth. I wouldn’t even have to eat you out, because you’d be dripping already. Just like you are right now, aren’t you princess?

I couldn’t take it anymore. I logged off my stream without apologizing, trying to catch my breath. But the longer I sat there, the more brown eyes and pouty lips invaded my thoughts.

Could it have been him? How in the hell did he find me in the first place? He must have seen my username and found me that way.

I grabbed my phone and pulled up my Uber Eats app. I would be ordering a lot more in hopes it would get delivered to him on accident.

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro/oc #Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal

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rabbitcruiser · 2 years ago

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National Burrito Day

Line up some meat, beans and cheese on a large flour tortilla. Fold in the sides, fold up the bottom and then roll on, my friend, roll on! And it’s the rolling that really makes the burrito come alive.

It’s time to celebrate and enjoy this simple but delicious food on National Burrito Day!

History of National Burrito Day

The history of the burrito is couched in mystery because the concept of meats and cheeses rolled in tortillas is hard to trace! A variety of different types of foods that originate from Mexico include the tortilla with meat and cheese, such as the taco and the enchilada, taquitos, chimichangas or even quesadillas. But the burrito is a bit unique because it is larger than others and its history has grown out of the culture of Mexico but made its way into the southwestern portions of the United States where it became even more popular.

Burritos can be traced back at least to the 19th century, when these recipes were developed. In fact, one of the oldest mentions of the word “burrito” came in 1895 when it was mentioned in a book called the “Dictionary of Mexicanisms”.

Originally created with simple meat and cheese inside of a tortilla, and then probably sold by street food vendors, the burrito evolved into something more as the years went on. Sometimes called mission-style burritos the idea came for adding beans and rice as fillers, and then guacamole and sour cream for toppings. It was after this that the burrito developed into something more akin to what it is today, with some restaurants like Chipotle offering a huge range of options for preferred ways to fill a burrito.

In any case, the burrito is a hearty and delicious meal that is certainly worth celebrating! And that’s where the tradition of National Burrito Day, whether old or new, finds its place in the world.

National Burrito Day Timeline

16th Century Ancestors of burritos appear

Food wrapped in tortillas becomes a Mexican tradition.

1930s Burritos first appear on US menus

In the US, the first restaurant to put burritos on the menu was El Cholo Spanish Cafe in Los Angeles, California.

1940s A Ciudad Juárez street vendor sells burritos

The story goes that this Mexican street vendor portioned meat out in tortillas, perfect for children, whom he called “burritos”.

1961 Mission-style burritos evolve

The Mexican food scene in San Francisco produces an extra large burrito that adds rice, guacamole and sour cream.

1993 First Chipotle Mexican Grill opens

Famous for their freshly made burritos, Chipotle opens its first store in Denver, Colorado.

How to Celebrate National Burrito Day

Getting in the spirit of National Burrito Day can be loads of fun and a tasty adventure. Get involved with the day by implementing some of these ideas for celebrating:

Try Making Burritos at Home

One super delicious way to celebrate National Burrito Day is to hang out with family or invite a group of friends over for a burrito bar. In fact, burritos are some of the easiest foods to serve when hosting a crowd! Those who have a quick cooking instant pot may choose to cook some pork or chicken with seasonings in just about an hour. A slow cooker or roasting in the oven are viable options as well.

Friends can be invited to bring the fixings such as large flour tortillas, black or red beans, rice with cilantro, guacamole, cheese sour cream, salsa, tortilla chips, jalapenos, hot sauces, and so many other yummy toppings! Line everything up and let each guest make their own burrito by piling on everything they love. It’s a fun way to serve a great meal without a lot of fuss.

Go Out for Burritos

One superb way to celebrate National Burrito Day might be to grab a friend or family member, head on over to a restaurant that serves burritos and order a delicious plate full. Perhaps this would be a locally owned and operated Mexican restaurant that serves up beef, chicken or bean burritos on a bed of rice. Or maybe it would be a quick lunch at a fast and fresh food burrito restaurant.

Don’t forget to ask if that favorite Mexican kitchen is offering any special deals or discounts in celebration of National Burrito Day!

Try out one of these Mexican restaurant chains that serves burritos:

QDOBA Mexican Eats. With more than 700 locations in the United States, it’s easy to find a delicious burrito nearby. Try the specialty chicken burrito that is customizable to each individual’s desired tastes and preferences.

Chipotle. One of the largest and most accessible burrito joints, this chain boasts almost 3,000 locations not only in the US, but also in Canada, Germany, France and the United Kingdom.

Moe’s Southwest Grill. This one is perhaps not quite as well known, but Moe’s is still a viable option that has up to 700 locations throughout the US.

Taco Bell. Sure, it gets a bad rap (or wrap?!) sometimes, but there’s no arguing with the fact that 7000 locations worldwide is nothing to overlook. And it’s probably the quickest service for burritos and other Mexican fast food around.

Enjoy a Tex-Mex Themed Day

Whether at work or at school, National Burrito Day brings with it many opportunities to enjoy and show appreciation for the culture behind this delicious food. In addition to eating burritos, don’t forget to stay connected through fun aspects such as festive music, delightful decorations, cultural dress and even some fun games.

One fun activity might be to grab a blindfold and play Pin the Tail on the Donkey. After all, the word for “burrito” really translates to mean “little donkey” in the Spanish language. Another fun game for a National Burrito Day party might be to have a cute pinata filled with candy and treats.

Create a Burrito Themed Playlist

Have tons of fun creating a festive playlist of songs celebrating the home culture of the burrito. Get started with some of these fun ideas for songs that give a nod to National Burrito Day:

How Do I Feel (The Burrito Song) by Hoku (2000). The songwriter penned this one in honor of a boy she liked who worked at a burrito stand. Sure, it’s a little silly, but it’s also rather fun.

Burrito by Pete Yorn (2003). Known for his ability to play the bulk of the instruments on his albums, Pete Yorn sings this song where he offers the listener a bite of his burrito.

O Burrito by Fernando Corriera Marques (2009). This tribute is sung as it should be – in Spanish!

The Burrito Song by Creed Fisher (2022). A strange but compelling song by Creed Fisher, this one is more of a kids’ song but certainly shows its love for burritos too.

National Burrito Day FAQs

How to fold a burrito?

Fold a warm tortilla by folding in on the sides, folding the bottom up, and then rolling up.

Are burritos from Mexico?

Burritos may have gotten their start in the northern regions of Mexico, but they crossed the border to become “Tex-Mex”.

Can burritos be healthy?

Burritos made with low fat meat, beans, rice, and a small amount of cheese can be healthy.

Do burritos have rice?

Though original burritos would not have included rice, many people make them with rice now.

Are burrito bowls healthier than burritos?

People who choose burrito bowls instead of wraps can save on calories, carbohydrates and also be gluten free.

Source

#Jaime-Style with cheese & sauce Burrito #so good #Taco Temple #Morro Bay #California Burrito #Super Chile Verde Burrito #Asatas Burrito Super #USA #tex-mex food #National Burrito Day #restaurant #first Thursday in April #travel #6 April 2023 #original photography #California #summer vacation #tortilla chips

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pandemicperipatetics · 3 years ago

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Two Weeks in Missoula, MT

View from a bridge over the Clark Fork River

The Verdict

What a fun place to spend two weeks! Missoula prides itself on being weird, and we can see the charm. This tiny university town of 70-80K residents is surrounded by mountains and has the cute little Clark Fork River running through it. There are hardly any tall buildings and the downtown area is full of places to eat, drink, and buy random Montana-themed tchotchkes. We encountered very few chains or national brands (basically just some hotels downtown and the nearby Albertsons grocery).

From the quad at The University of Montana, Missoula

We also got a different kind of weird vibe, though. Missoula is gentrifying, and there’s an odd juxtaposition of it feeling a bit run-down -- the downtown area on the river isn’t terribly well-maintained; the local housing stock is pretty old; the university has lost a lot of funding and applicants in recent years -- and also designed for deep-pocketed tourists (food is more expensive than comparable options in NYC; the new downtown Mercantile building that houses the ~2 year old Marriott Residence Inn feels like an upscale shopping mall; it’s hard to believe how so many breweries could be supported by the size of the local population). As visitors unfamiliar with the area, we didn’t always feel totally welcome -- and we can only imagine what it must feel like for people from the area to experience it being transformed by yuppies and Silicon Valley money. Even the local shops already evoke AirSpace, and it’s a bit sad to think of Missoula losing its quirkiness more in the future.

Walking around downtown Missoula

What to Eat: Vegetarian Edition

For a town of its size, Missoula has a surprising number of places to eat out. It was exciting to discover lots of ethnic food and plenty of vegetarian-friendly options, but ultimately we found a lot of the food to be extremely overpriced for what it was. We also noticed that many of the places we visited were advertising for staff, some were closed due to lack of staff / inventory / ingredients, and a surprisingly high number of places experienced outages of menu items during our time there.

Note: All recommendations are in downtown or within walking distance. We’ve listed them in order of how much we liked them.

Five on Black [5/5]: Brazilian food that is surprisingly vegetarian-friendly and pretty reasonably priced ($12 for a large bowl). The tofu bowl with sweet potatoes and mango BBQ sauce was out of this world. Outdoor seating was available.

Masala [5/5]: Indian make-your-own bowl, Chipotle-style ($8). The coconut curry korma was delicious, and the paneer was pretty good too. This was the best value meal we had downtown. They had outdoor seating.

Basal [4.5/5]: Smoothies and salads. The Caesar salad with vegan dressing was pretty amazing, and the creamy smoothie (blue version) was obsession-inducingly good. Knocked off half a point because it is ridiculously expensive...yet we still went back a second time because it was delicious and healthy. Can’t remember if they had outdoor seating...

Market on Front [4.5/5]: Right by our hotel, and known for breakfast burritos. We tried picking up lunch there one day but it was a 25 minute wait. We tried again for an early dinner and voila...the Rawsome Vegan Wrap ($10.50) was very good The service was friendly, too.

Bernice’s Bakery [4.5/5]: This is a cute little bakery with great bread and vegetarian-friendly lunch options; we really liked their house-made Parker rolls ($0.60 each, or great as part of their sliders). They post their changing menu on Instagram daily. We didn’t try any of their sweets but they looked very enticing. This was also one of the few normally priced places we ate at. The shaded picnic table outside was very nice to eat at.

Zoo Thai [4/5]: This is an overpriced but pretty good Thai restaurant downtown. We really enjoyed the massaman curry ($17) and the coconut milk Thai iced tea ($3.5). There is one other vegetarian curry on the menu that was also decent. The service was exceptionally friendly although they are clearly understaffed (like lots of local places, it seems) and it took an unusually long time to get our food. Their outdoor patio was nice, and about a 30 minute wait on a Wednesday around 6p.m.

Conflux [4/5]: In a similar boat to Zoo Thai: the food was pretty good but it was one of the most expensive places we visited. We liked the vegetarian burger and the mushroom sandwich, and the beers were good too. The outdoor patio is extra cute and there was no wait when we went on a Thursday evening (when the wait was over an hour at The Camino).

The Union Club [4/5]: Our friend took us here, it’s a no-frills spot with a dive bar vibe, including pool tables and a few arcade games. As far as vegetarian options, they have a veggie burger (something like $6-$8) that was pretty decent and various fried items (breaded zucchini, jalapenos, etc). It was the most reasonably priced place we ate and we liked the relaxed atmosphere. There wasn’t any outdoor seating, but luckily it was nearly empty when we went.

Break Espresso [4/5]: Cafe. The lemon jam scone was decent, very sugary. We would totally go back here, but it didn’t seem like they had outdoor seating.

The Catalyst Cafe [3.5/5]: Good brunch options; the huevos rancheros were amazing, 5/5. However, the breakfast burrito with tofu and black beans was disappointing (maybe try the vegan brunch burrito with vegetables instead), and the service was particularly grumpy compared to anywhere else we went. They charge a gratuity on take-out orders, which they were upfront about but is still a bit odd. They have outdoor tables but due to the wait we took our food to go and ate on the lovely patio at our hotel.

Madeline’s Mediterranean (food truck) [3/5]: The falafel plate ($10) was tasty but unconscionably overpriced - 3 falafel balls, some lettuce, and a good heap of french fries.

Bahn Missoula (food truck) [3/5]: We tried the tofu bahn mi sandwich ($8). It wasn’t bad, but the bread wasn’t great, overall it had a bit of a sterile taste like airport food.

Le Petit [not rated]: This is a very popular local bakery that was recommended by a friend. We visited on a Sunday a little over an hour before closing and they literally had ZERO pastries left. We actually haven’t seen that anywhere before. Maybe it’s a small town thing? We didn’t see outdoor seating.

An area across the river from downtown, near the University. Close to Bernice’s and Le Petit. The reminder to “Believe women” brought us back to Jon Krakauer’s book Missoula.

Notable places we didn’t try:

The Camino (Mexican): We heard good things from friends but the vegetarian options looked sparse. Their happy hour could be a good option if you’re in the mood for margaritas -- we put our names down on a Wednesday around 5:45PM and an outdoor table wasn’t available for us until 7:10PM, after we had already sat down at Conflux. Notably, there was an open patio table for 40 minutes that they were saving for someone who was supposedly coming “soon.”

Tagliare Delicatessen: Our friend highly recommended, but the sandwiches were mostly meat- or cheese-oriented. Could be great for a tomato/basil/mozzarella lunch option.

What to Drink

There are so many great breweries! We only tried the most popular ones, but imagine there is much more to enjoy.

Draughtworks: Gorgeous and spacious outdoor patio; we easily got a table on a Saturday at 5p (though it filled up a bit later). They seem to be known for sour and fruity beers and have many unique flavors; the flight ($10 for 4) is a great way to try them out. The watermelon rhubarb kombucha was also amazing.

Dram Works: Has a good outdoor patio and exceptionally friendly service. They let you sample anything before ordering. We really loved their peanut butter beer. They also have multiple kombucha options on tap!

Big Sky Brewing: We didn’t actually go to this brewery, but tried their beers at a fun street festival (Roots Festival) that happened during our visit. We had to mention this because their beers were so delicious!

The Roots Festival was fun -- in addition to enjoying beer and food trucks, the 4-mile race through south Missoula was great!

Plonk: Cocktails place with an extremely cute outdoor patio upstairs. The cocktails were excellent -- especially loved the Pink Panther (it had watermelon in it, what’s not to love?)

Lake Missoula Tea Company: Not beer, but their array of loose leaf teas was incredibly interesting and expansive! They can brew a cup of any tea for purchase in store if you’d like. We heard the lychee black tea was exceptional, though didn’t try it. We did try the vegan ginger chai, which was good. Definitely a fun place to visit if you enjoy tea.

What to Do

As this was our stop between Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks, we didn’t do a ton apart from eating and drinking.

We did hear there is some decent hiking nearby. We walked the M Trail -- a short, straight uphill hike (1.2 miles each way) with a good view of Missoula -- it was perfect at around 8:30a.m. while still shady. Pattee Canyon was a longer hike recommended to us.

View from the M Trail

We heard hanging out on the river can also be fun. We did a chill ~2 hour tubing excursion on the Clark Fork River with Clark Fork Yacht Club. It was a lot of fun, we definitely recommend!

Where to Stay

We would have loved to stay in an Airbnb to get a feel for what it’s like to live in an actual neighborhood. Availability was sparse -- a local friend told us housing has been very difficult to find across the board as gentrification has accelerated, and we were also visiting for the 2 weeks before the fall semester started at the University.

We ended up staying at the Marriott Residence Inn Downtown (it was actually cheaper than the few Airbnb options we saw -- you can get a decent discount for staying 12+ nights). It felt more like a hip Manhattan high rise apartment than a Residence Inn -- it was swanky with a great gym and outdoor patio. The service wasn’t great and the staff were fairly unhelpful, but it otherwise worked out fine. The location was great: we were within walking distance of basically everything we wanted to do.

View from the Marriott Residence Inn Downtown Missoula patio

#missoula

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harringtonstudios · 5 years ago

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teenage dirtbag. (part I)

plot: you’ve just gotten a job at Chipotle, your co-worker’s kind of an ass. part 2!

A/N: icky day of another icky week. this keeps me sane! lemme know your thoughts :) gif credit: @mgkgifs; inspired by Kells’ own interview haha

masterlist!

Life after graduation was supposed to be amazing. Some big thing, attending college and living up the seemingly best years of your life. Of course, that’d all gone up in flames when you’d been kicked out over some stupid argument, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Cleveland wasn’t the nicest place to sit on the streets until the sun came out, but you’d managed to nap on park benches until you could piece some things together. A week later, you were staying with a friend, sleeping on their couch and you’d finally gotten a job at Chipotle in the mall.

You’d caught a break for the first time in a while, and after knowing that you had secured that stupid job, you’d ended up crying just thinking about everything. It was time to get your life back on track.

The next morning, you’d walked in to Chipotle, changed into the uniform in the employee’s only bathroom and that’s when you had run into him.

He was waiting right outside, leaning against the wall. His head was hanging down, sunglasses on, as his fingers fumbled around with a bright green lighter.

Stumbling out of the bathroom, you ran a hand down your apron before muttering out, “Hey! I’m Y/N.”

He looked up at that, acknowledging you through a nod. The lighter in his hands flickered. You stared a second before extending out your hand, hoping for a shake.

“Colson,” he mumbled, letting his hand meet yours, slightly shaking it. You smiled before leaving the area, walking up the counter. Nothing was going to ruin your mood right now, not even the weird co-worker with shades on inside.

Twenty minutes into manning the front by yourself, Colson had come up, standing by the cash register.

“So you’ve been trained?” he asked, hands stuck in the pockets of the apron.

“No,” you muttered, rolling up a customer’s burrito at the other end of the counter. The customer gave you a look as you finished wrapping the order in foil before throwing them a dazzling smile.

Looking back at Colson, you saw a surprised look on his face. His mouth was open and he scoffed a little as he rang up the order.

“So what you’re just a Chipotle fan? How’d you get everything down so fast?” he asked, returning the change before turning his attention back towards you.

“I read the instructions,” you responded, pointing at the directions that were printed and pasted on the countertop.

“Mm, rule follower,” he declared, leaning over to fiddle with the stereo system.

“I literally just got hired,” you stated back, trying not to be short with him.

While he’d been fooling around in the back, you’d snuck a peek at the work schedule for the next month. Most of your shifts were with Colson B., written in a scrawly scratch on the big calendar. You didn’t want to fight with your co-worker.

Soft static filled the air between you two, and Colson grimaced before moving back to change the radio station. Within seconds, Iron Maiden flooded the speaker system and you lit up.

“Keep that on?” you asked, already feeling a little lighter as you bounced on your heels to the music.

“You like Maiden?” he responded, tone sounding incredulous.

“Yeah dude. They’re my favorite band,” you responded, tapping to the beat now.

“Sick,” he shouted out, throwing up a rock sign. You smiled at him, maybe he wasn’t insufferable.

An hour later, you took that thought back. Colson had disappeared again, claiming he had to piss ten minutes ago. The lunch rush had started, and you were struggling to keep up with the crowd.

People were shouting over each other, loud in the small store. You couldn’t hear the customer ordering, and you’d already messed up an order, having to refund the man.

Shoving lettuce into a bowl, you moved a strand of hair out of your face before sliding the bowl down to the next station. Colson stepped back out and you huffed before muttering, “Finally. Little help?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, before shouting out, “Yoooo!”

You looked up to catch him reaching over the counter to dap a couple of guys up. They all started chatting with him, and he was pulled into the ebb and flow of their conversation.

You scoffed. Typical, you were stuck with most of the work and you were putting up with it too.

Baring a grin, you walked to the cash register, slamming the bowl on the tabletop. Colson looked at you, unimpressed as you mumbled, “Steak burrito bowl. Extra guac.”

“Congrats princess. You’ve charged someone for guac,” he stilted, reaching to put in the order. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused at his words.

“Lots to learn young padawan,” he responded, waving a tattooed arm around.

“Oh shut up,” you mumbled under your breath, turning to make the next order.

Fifteen minutes later, the store had cleared out. Exhausted, you slumped on the plastic crate sitting in the corner of the little space behind the counter.

Looking up at the thud, Colson laughed before walking over.

“First lunch rush is over!” he put his palm up for a high five, and you gave him a glare before reaching up to hit it.

“Yeah man, no thanks to you,” came tumbling out of your mouth. Immediately, you paused, trying to gauge his reaction.

He gave you a once over, then shrugged his shoulders before saying, “Don’t really care about this place. I’ve been here too long.”

“Well, I haven’t. So could you please just help me along? I don’t wanna fuck this up already,” you muttered out, exasperated with his reactions.

“You’re good dude. Prime example of a Chipotle worker. Reading all the instructions and shit, I just played around with the food the first day,” he counted off, knocking your shoulder with his hand.

“How haven’t you been fired?” you prompted, looking up at him.

Raising his sunglasses, he put them atop his head, smirking he stated, “Guess I’m just that charming.”

You rolled your eyes, hearing him laugh. His own eyes were on display, blue laced with just a little bit of bloodshot. The door dinged and you started to get up before he waved you down, moving as he mumbled, “Stay. I got this one.”

A week into, things had gotten better. You and Colson turned out to have a lot in common, falling in love with the same bands, following the same artists.

He had apologized for his behavior the first day, claiming he was just super hungover. At first, you’d been reluctant, but then he’d worked through every lunch rush to make it up to you and you’d felt good about something.

Learning more about him, you had been kinda shocked to see he was still working in a shitty Chipotle. He was talented, way beyond anyone you’d ever met. Could rap real fast, creating lyrics out of thin air.

Sometimes, during the empty parts of the day, you throw him over an ingredient, ask him to freestyle something. It was great, never the same thing twice, and always to a different beat. It drove you crazy knowing he was filled to the brim with talent, but was stuck here instead.

“Ay Y/N! Come here,” came his voice, shouting from the front. You had snuck to the back, calling up your friend to let her know you were going to be home later tonight since you had to do closing.

You walked out front, shoving your phone in your pocket only to see a group of guys gathered around the first table. They looked oddly familiar, and then you placed them. They were the guys that had come in during your first day, the big distractions.

“Y/N, these are my dudes. Dudes, Y/N!” Colson offered, waving his arms to the both of you. You got on your tip-toes, reaching across the glass to shake their hands.

“I’ve definitely seen you around. Where ya from?” one of the guys asked, hand lingering on yours. Pulling your arm back, you grinned before saying, “Around here. Graduated from Shaker.”

At that Colson gave you the strangest look as his friends laughed.

“We’re from Shaker. Class of 08. I’m Slim,” the guy clarified and you gave him a thumbs up, tuning them out as they continued talking.

A few minutes later, they waved at you, stepping out of the store. Waving back, you awkwardly turned to look at Colson, reluctant to admit that you weren’t really paying attention to his friends.

“You weren’t listening huh?” he asked, not even letting you fully turn. Laughing a little, he took his visor off, running a hand through his hair. You grimaced, laughing back before saying, “Sorry, it’s not like that. I just didn’t really know any of them.”

“So what I’m getting from this is you can be bad sometimes?” he continued, scuffing his Chucks against the linoleum.

You let out a snort before going, “Colson what does that even mean?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he mumbled out, securing his visor back on as the doorbell rang.

Returning your attention to the food in front of you, you thought it over. Ever since you’d started here, he’d made fun of you, constantly egging on you for the way you followed the rules.

He was much more lax with his position, coming in high or hungover, playing with the radio all day long and once even lighting up in the backroom. You didn’t really care what he did on his own time, but the last one had caused your anxiety to spike and you’d yelled at him just a little.

Finishing up, the customer dropped a dollar into the tip jar before heading out the door. It was just you two again.

Reaching over to tune the radio, you grinned as another Iron Maiden song came on. He smiled, eyes not really leaving his phone but you were determined to spend just the right way killing time.

Poking him in the shoulder, you danced a little on the floor. He looked up at that, nodding along to the bass. Soon enough, the both of you were shuffling to the song, hands in the air. He was playing air guitar, and you laughed at his technique, mimicking it across from him.

“What,” he breathed out, flushed from the rock concert you’d just put on.

“Never saw someone play guitar like that,” you uttered, moving a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You play?” he asked, motioning the fake guitar towards you.

“Yeah, I used to,” you responded, taking it from him. Adjusting the air strap, you flashed back to high school days when your guitar was your escape. Playing the strings, you let a couple of chord songs drop out of your mouth.

“Learn something new about you every day,” he observed, watching you string with your eyes closed.

“Huh,” you asked, breaking out of your bubble.

“You had a guitar?” he continued, running his tongue over his teeth.

“Um yeah, back in high school. I had to leave it at my old place,” you mumbled out, fingers going to run over the small tattoo on your wrist.

“Sorry,” he peeked out, seeing the discomfort on your face.

“No, you’re good. So, you went to Shaker?” you asked, changing the topic.

He snorted out before saying, “Messed around at Shaker is more like it. Don’t really know how I graduated but here I am,” he finished out, waving his arms around at the empty space around you.

“Hey dude! Same!” you shouted out, palms reaching over to clap them onto his shoulder. He laughed at your enthusiastic face, shaking away his smile as you tapped your fingers against him.

Motley Crue filled the air and you bit your lip, resisting the urge to bang your fists onto his shoulders with the beat.

Moving away, you handed him two straws, taking a paper cup of your own. He got the message, drumming in thin air as you pretended to string along the guitar.

The whole song, you two kept flashing smiles at each other, raging as the music just got louder. Finally, the song came to an end and you grabbed two cups, moving out of the counter to get water from the fountain.

Trying to catch your breath back, you smiled to yourself while pressing the buttons, thinking about how Colson’s energy had matched yours perfectly.

“C’mon live a little,” came a voice from right behind and you turned your head to see Colson right behind you, closer than you expected.

“Mm no thanks,” you responded, bringing up the second cup to the water option. Within a second, his arm came from behind, hand guiding yours to the Lemonade option.

You begrudgingly held the cup as he filled it up, waiting to hand it back to him.

“We’re not supposed to do that,” you murmured, moving back to the counter, moment gone.

He let out a loud groan, facing you from the other side before saying, “Y/N. I promise you they don’t care.”

“How do you know that,” you spit back, sipping at the water, eyes motioning to the cameras on the ceiling.

“They don’t work. Believe me, I’ve been doing stupid shit since I got hired and I’m still here.”

“Stupid shit?” you wondered, interest peaking a little.

“Yeah extra chicken if I’m on scooping. Don’t charge for extras, and sometimes you know I just give out food,” he listed before continuing, “it’s why the tip jar’s usually full. You gotta work for the people.”

You laughed at his self-righteousness, watching him refill his cup. “You do all that?”

“Yep,” he popped, flashing you a grin.

“What a rebel,” you sighed out loud, mocking his whole spiel.

“Shut up, corporate doesn’t care if you suck their dicks,” he shot back, eyes twinkling.

“Hey give me some credit, I’m a lot more selective with the dicks I suck,” you shot back, laughing at your own joke.

He moved closer to the counter, leaning on his elbows so that he was looking up at you, hands balled up at his cheeks.

“Tell me more about these dicks,” he asked sweetly, grinning at the blush building on your cheeks.

The door rang and you threw up a peace sign, moving over to assist the customer, happy with a distraction. Colson sighed again loudly, before walking around to get at the cash register. You moved along the line, filling the burrito with all the items before rolling it up just right. It was like a secret talent, folding it up perfectly so that none of the contents would fall out. Satisfied with your roll, you put paper over it before passing it off to Colson.

He looked at you for a second, winked and then faced the customer. “Hey dude, it’s on the house. You’re our 100th customer today, enjoy!” he rattled out, smiling as he handed the food over.

You widened your eyes before smiling over at the customer, blurting out, “Happy 100!” making jazz hands. Dropping a $5 into the tip jar, he turned around, leaving with his free food.

As soon as he left, you wacked Colson in the shoulder, grumbling, “What the fuck was that man? 100th customer bullshit?”

“So we were talking about your type?” he continued, without missing a beat.

“Huh?” you asked, shaking your head.

“Your type of guy? Like what you’re into,” he gestured, focused on you.

“Uhm, I don’t know. Why does it matter?” you questioned, turning away from the bore of his eyes, taking off your plastic gloves.

“It doesn’t I guess,” he murmured, letting the air around you fall into silence.

You threw out your gloves, and then turned around just to see him biting his lip over at you.

He took a breath before saying, “You wanna go out with me after this?” eyes meeting yours.

“Like- on a date?” you clarified, playing with your own fingers, nervous for his reaction.

“Yeah,” he nodded out and you tried to hold in your smile.

“Nope, I don’t like you,” you answered, keeping your voice as montone as you could.

He grimaced, shoulders sagging a little. Watching him, you burst out laughing, going over to his side.

“Yeah dummy, I’ll go out with you. No more of that good girl shit though,” you slightly scolded, hand reaching up to pat his cheek.

“Rule breaker huh?” he mumbled, tilting his head just a smidge to lick your palm.

“Colson!” you shouted, pulling your hand back, rubbing it on your apron.

He just grinned over, teeth shiny white on display and you rolled your eyes before saying, “Dude stop looking at me like that!”

Your heart was fluttering just a little and even though you were dreading the closing rush, knowing that Colson was stuck here with you and that there was something to look forward to tonight made you feel so much better.

taglist: @iamdorka @no-shxt-sherl @bakerkells @findingmyth @rosegoldrichie @mayaslifeinabox @itjustkindahappenedreally @hnbtx @backoftheroomandnotbelonging

#teenage colson baker is a dick but also v sweet #mgk imagine #mgk lyrics #mgk icons #mgk fanfic #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly fanfiction #machine gun kelly fanfic #colson baker x reader #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker imagine #mgk x reader #m writes 4 mgk #m-writes-4-mgk

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taylorinthetardis · 4 years ago

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Only Human - Prologue and Chapter 1

Hey everyone! So this is the Pride and Prejudice AU I’ve been working on for a while now. It’s set in Modern Day London and told from Darcy’s POV. It is cross posted on AO3, the link to it will be below. I promise I will update it soon, I’ve just been a little bit blocked for a while. But I promise there will be more. So here we go, the prologue and first chapter are under the cut! Enjoy!! Feedback is much appreciated!! If you like it and want to be on a taglist, please feel free to say so!!

Thank you to @madbaddic7ed for all your encouraging words and for convincing me to cross post!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109365

Only Human

Summary: The events of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice as seen through the eyes of Darcy. Story takes place in modern day London. Lizzy and Jane are American students studying abroad. Their sisters take turns visiting them throughout the story. Bingley and Darcy are recent business partners, but longtime friends. Caroline is as snake-ish as ever. George Wickham is an actual rapist - the rape will not be described in detail.

Pairing: William (Will) Darcy x Elizabeth (Lizzie) Bennet; Charles Bingley x Jane Bennet

Rating: Explicit due to eventual smut

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2.8K

�� Prologue

It is a truth universally acknowledged that I, William Darcy, am an arsehole. The following tale, dear reader, will explain how that came to be and how, I hope, I have made the preceding statement a falsehood instead. The following tale does not often show me at my best. I hope, however, that you may look past my faults and forgive my disgraceful, ignorant, and often impure thoughts as I relay to you the circumstances by which I came to fall deeply in love with the most wonderful, challenging woman I’ve ever met, the method by which I nearly ruined an incredibly important friendship, and the events surrounding the creation of a familial fissure that will never heal. I hope you will not judge me too harshly.

Chapter 1: Hanover Terrace

I was sat in my office. My office. Still getting used to that. When I took over control from my Aunt Catherine in April, a lot of work was done to make this office mine. Catherine’s taste in furniture was, how should I phrase this, medieval. I was honestly surprised we didn’t have to remove any torture devices when her furniture was cleared out to make room for my more practical mahogany desk and overstuffed leather chairs. My degree from Cambridge’s Judge Business School was propped in my bookcase with photos of my parents and Georgiana on either side. The office is still rather spartan in comparison to Charles’ but I don’t mind it. Our companies had recently merged, an event that proved profitable for both parties and served to deepen our friendship. Our offices are across the hallway from each other now, as opposed to being across the Thames. The economic windfall had been excellent for Charles. He had decided to purchase a new home, one big enough for himself and his sister and closer to her university. Charles is an orphan, like myself, and the sole caretaker of his younger sister Caroline, who recently began her studies at the fashion and design school at Regent’s University. I feel for Charles sometimes. His younger sister is an absolute terror, but I guess we can’t all be blessed with saints for sisters. Caroline is an uncommonly cruel young woman. She delights in shit-talking friends and strangers alike. She also is labouring under the delusion that she will one day be my wife. Her older sister, Louisa, has enjoyed several years of trophy-wifery and it seems Caroline has decided that is the life she wants to live as well. Although she just recently came of age, she has flirted with me non-stop since the first day Charles invited me home with him. We’ve known each other since we were 18 years old. We are now 25. Damn near seven years. SEVEN YEARS. Seven fucking years dealing with Caroline’s shite. She just turned 18 earlier this year. What the hell did she think I was going to do with her when she was eleven goddamn years old? Go to prison? I sure as shit think not.

Charles entered my office at around 1. He was bouncier than usual. He had either had more than one of his normal sickly-sweet coffees or he was in love again. Turned out it was both.

“Oh, Will I’m so happy you convinced me to snatch up Hanover Terrace. I met the most beautiful woman in world yesterday. I never would have known her if I hadn’t decided to take your advice. I invited her and her sister out with us tonight. You don’t mind, do you? Even if you do, once you meet her, you’ll forget you were ever bothered.” He spoke at such a speed that I only caught about every third word. My ears perked, however, at the ‘out with us tonight’ part. Out with us? I don’t remember agreeing to go anywhere with Charles. He always wants to go to nightclubs. He knows I don’t dance. He always does this. Drags me to some poppy nightclub with strobe lights and terrible music.

“And how did you meet this one Charles? Spill your coffee on her? No, wait, you were walking Caroline’s stupid pug and she thought it was cute and wanted to pet it.”

“Christ, am I becoming that predictable?” Yes Charles. Every girl you’ve ever fancied has fallen into your life in a cliché.

I nodded. He sighed.

“Well, it’s different this time. She isn’t like any other girl I’ve been with. More beautiful than Sarah, kinder than Tilly, oh and her sister Will. Her sister has got to be one of the most intelligent women I’ve ever spoken to in my life. They’re both very beautiful Will. If I was a betting man, I’d wager that Lizzie might even be beautiful enough to tempt you out of your shell and entice you to have some goddamn fun for once. Maybe she’ll even get you to dance.” He nudged me with his elbow, winking. Yeah right Charles. Not even Charlize Theron could get me to dance at a nightclub.

“I seriously doubt that Charles. So, what’s this one called, hm?”

“Jane.” He said it with a sigh. Oh, he’s already long gone. “Her sister is called Elizabeth, but she prefers Lizzie. They’re American, Darce. From the Midwest. They’re both studying abroad at Regent’s for the year.”

“And to what godforsaken place will you be attempting to drag me to tonight?”

“I was thinking Drama? I wanna show off a little Will. I really like her; I want to impress her.”

“Drama might be a little much for a midwestern girl, don’t you think? What about that place we went in Camden a few months ago, by the lock?”

“Lock 17? Isn’t that a little down market for you Darce? There isn’t even a dress code!”

“Come off it, you know I couldn’t care less Charles. I don’t even like going out. I just think Lock 17 will be the better choice for her. You don’t want to scare her. Anyway, I think you’ll have a nice time. Without me.”

“Nuh uh, you aren’t getting out of this. You come or you’re dead to me.” I rolled my eyes. Jesus he’s such a goddamn drama queen.

“Ugh fine I’ll go. But I’m not dancing and you can’t make me. I’m a grown man Charles. So, meet at Hanover Terrace at, what, 8pm? Or should we meet earlier?”

“I was thinking 7:30, that way we’ll all have plenty of time to get ready and you can get to know them before we go. I’m going to order the cab for 8 so we’ll have plenty of time to get there if there’s any slow spots.”

“Please tell me you’ll be leaving Caroline at home.”

“Yeah, so she can kick my arse over it later? No chance. Besides, we’ll probably lose her to the dance floor as soon as we get in. She’ll find some nice dumb boy to buy her drinks and you won’t have to see her all night.” No Charles she’ll be on me like white on rice all damn night and you bloody well know it.

“Alright. But I’m not dancing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I arrived at Hanover Terrace about 7:30. As soon as Charles opened the door, I immediately regretted my decision to come. I should have told him I got food poisoning from lunch or something. Caroline was stomping through the front room, going from box to box screaming that she couldn’t find her favourite clubbing heels. Who the fuck has a favourite pair of heels for clubbing? Heels seem so impractical for dancing. Charles’ new love and her sister had yet to arrive and Charles appeared to be in a slight panic.

“What if she doesn’t come Will?” He said shakily. Christ he’s in a full meltdown.

“I’m sure she’ll be here in a few minutes Charles. It’s not even close to 8 o’ clock yet. You’ve got plenty of time, just relax.” I took a minute to look around his new home. He had barely unpacked. I helped him get everything in order for the move about two weeks ago and he moved in a few days later. Everything was basically where it was when I visited three days ago. “Have you genuinely not unpacked anything Charles? How are you even living in here?”

“I’ve got enough clothes unpacked upstairs to last another week probably. Caroline’s rarely home in the evening anymore so I just keep getting take-away. There’s a Chipotle just around the corner on Baker Street. You know I love a burrito bowl. Something I have in common with the lovely Jane.” Gag. Well, at least the movers got his furniture set up, although most of the downstairs furnishings were unusable because they were covered with cardboard boxes and plastic totes and suitcases. The sofa in the main living area was clear enough that I took a seat. Caroline continued her tear through the front room until a triumphant screech echoed through the relatively empty house. The heels in question were easily six inches high, sparkly platformed monstrosities. They completed a look which can only be described as what a disco ball would look like if it was a contestant on Love Island. Hopefully Jane and her sister would be a bit more sensibly dressed, like Charles and myself. I decided on a plain black tee and black jeans with my black and white trainers. Charles had gone with a less monochromatic palette, wearing a bright blue button down that was almost the colour of his eyes and a pair of dark blue jeans. We’re wearing the same shoes. Us and every other man in London. Suddenly there was knock on the door. I checked my watch, 7:35. I told Charles he was worrying for nothing. He bounced towards the door like Caroline’s pug when he needed a shit. He opened the door to reveal a young blonde woman and a younger looking woman with auburn hair.

“Jane, Lizzie, I’m so pleased you’re here. Sorry about the mess, haven’t had much time to unpack yet, with work and all.” Charles led them through to the room I had posted up in. The dark-haired girl peered at me through purple framed glasses. Her sister gave her a little nudge. Well fuck, Charles wasn’t kidding. God they’re both gorgeous! They were dressed considerably more sensibly than Caroline. Jane wore a low pair of black heels that complemented her red cocktail dress. Her sister was even more comfortably dressed, in black leggings, Doc Martins, and a plain white t-shirt. She wore a black leather jacket over the tee. Neither girl appeared to be wearing much make-up. Both were possessed of the natural beauty that Caroline tried to fabricate in her hour-long make-up routine that left her looking like she had Photoshopped her own face, but in real life. I stuck my hand out. “Will Darcy. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Wow, sound more like you’re a hundred years old, why don’t you Will?

“Will, this is Lizzie,” he gestured to the brunette, “and this is Jane.” He put his hand on the small of the blonde’s back and she blushed redder than Charles’ hair.

“Lizzie Bennet. It’s so nice to meet you Will.” She took my hand with her considerably smaller one and shook it. It was a firmer handshake than I’d had from some of my business associates. She dropped my hand and her sister took up the vacancy. Her handshake was much softer, grip much lighter, much more feminine. Looking at the two women before me, I wouldn’t have known they were sisters if Charles hadn’t told me. They couldn’t have been more different. One blonde, one brunette. Jane had soft blue eyes, Lizzie’s were bright and hazel. Jane was tall and slender, her sister shorter and softer around the middle. Taking all of her in I came to a sudden realization: she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Okay Will be cool. For once in your bloody life be cool. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak Lizzie launched into an animated conversation with Charles about her day. It was all I could do not to stare at her mouth while it moved faster than Charles’ ever had, no matter how in love he was or how many Frappuccinos he had consumed. I sat back down on the sofa, while Lizzie sat on the carpet, Charles on the coffee table, and Jane remained standing. Lizzie told us about one of her professors, an archaeologist who taught university classes when he wasn’t on digs.

“He’s like a real-life Indiana Jones except without the bullwhip and the hat. And he’s not Harrison Ford. But still. Oh, and don’t even let me get started on my Shakespeare professor. George. He’s my most favourite.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying your studies Lizzie. But don’t forget to explore the city while you’re here! London is full of endless things to see and do. I’ve lived here most of my life and I still haven’t seen everything!” Charles is so blessed. I wish I could just talk. Talking is better than staring. C’mon mouth, work! “Wouldn’t you agree Darce?”

Shit, I have to talk now? I nodded, again opening my mouth to speak, but no words came. Charles picked the conversation back up, turning to Jane to ask if she had a pleasant day as well.

“Yes. I took a lovely walk through Regent’s Park today. I only have the one class on Thursdays so I’ve been using the rest of the day to explore a bit. Lizzie’s schedule is so much fuller than mine so I’ve been finding places for us to go on the weekends. We’ve gone to Camden Market and Hyde Park. When you met us the other day, we were on our way back from the Tate Modern, I don’t remember if I said or not.”

“Yes, you said Lizzie was disappointed because she thought you were going to the Tate Britain.”

“Do you have something against modern art?” Oh, cool. Thanks, mouth. Why did that come out like I’m angry about that? Modern art is dumb. How is a pile of rubber or a cut-up McDonald’s bag art?

“I can appreciate that its art, like how I can appreciate that romance novels are literature or techno is music, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I prefer the old masters and classical art to a splash of paint on a canvas. My little cousin can do that too, does that mean her art belongs in a prestigious museum? Naw fam it sure don’t.” Yes. I wholly agree. Why does she have her eyebrow raised at me? Does she think I don’t agree? What is my face doing? Am I scowling? I don’t want to scowl. Did she say ‘fam’? That doesn’t matter. Why does it feel like it matters?

“You’ll have to excuse my sister. She’s never been shy about her opinions. And she has a lot of them.” Jane shot her sister a disapproving look. Lizzie just shrugged. Caroline chose that moment to come swanning into the room. Seeing there was a perfectly good space next to her brother on the coffee table, she chose to throw herself down into my lap. Oh, for fucks sake. She’s gonna get fake tanner on my trousers.

“Will, my love," I threw up in my mouth a little, "we’re going to have such a wonderful time at Drama tonight.” I can’t wait to burst her bubble.

“Caroline, did Charles not tell you? We aren’t going to Drama. We’re going to Lock 17, in Camden.” I tried to move her from my lap, but she dug her heels into the carpet for grounding. Fat Christ, Charles will you get your sister under control?

She sputtered, on the verge of a full tantrum directed at her brother when, blessedly, Charles’ phone vibrated. “That’ll be the cab. Caroline are you still coming?”

She jumped up off my lap and straightened the piece of sequined cloth trying to pass itself off as a dress. “Of course I’m going Charles. I put all this on, I can’t just not go out now!” She stomped off to the dining area to get her bag from the table. Charles led Jane towards the front door. I extended my hand down to Lizzie, who took it. I pulled her up from the floor. You should let go of her hand now Will. You’re being weird. I dropped her hand like it had burned me. Smooth. She looked at me, smirked and cocked that eyebrow again. Saying nothing, she followed her sister and Charles out the front door. Caroline took advantage of my initial inaction by slipping her arm into mine, leading me towards the cab. And my doom.

#Taylor writes #Pride and Prejudice #fanfiction #Modern AU #Darcy's POV #Mr Darcy #Elizabeth Bennet #Charles Bingley #Jane Bennet

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ahtohallan-calling · 5 years ago

Text

chapter 24 of don’t read the last page is here!

masterpost

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

They all crowded around Anna’s shoulder, waiting with bated breath as she finished choosing a filter for the photo. “Wait,” Kristoff said suddenly, “should we check with Lena about this?”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Fuck Lena,” she said cheerfully, and pressed post.

---

It was, all things considered, not a particularly interesting day when it happened; it had been a scorcher of a late-July afternoon, and when Kristoff came home from the clinic he found Anna in the backyard lounging in a beach chair she’d finally caved and bought at Target when she could no longer get comfortable lying on a towel spread over the grass.

“Hi, honey,” she said around a mouthful of an orange push pop; the empty box had fallen over by her chair.

He laughed and leaned down to kiss her, setting his palm against the swell of her stomach. “Good thing I bought another box of those on my way home.

Anna thought nothing of it when the baby kicked in response; he’d done so for a while now at the sound of his father’s voice, but Kristoff froze, his face only an inch away from hers as his eyes widened.

Worried, she tilted her head. “Is everything alright?”

He swallowed hard. “Did you feel that?”

“Well, yeah, I’ve been feeling a lot of-- wait. Did you?”

He nodded, slowly, and as they stared at each other, stunned, another kick came, sharp enough this time that Anna yelped in surprise. “Okay, you had to have felt that one,” she groused.

Kristoff nodded again, faster this time, as a laugh spilled from his lips. “It’s him,” he said, his eyes still wide. “I-- that’s him, Anna.”

Her eyes softened. “You know, we really ought to think of something to call him. I’m worried he’s going to get offended.”

A third kick came in response, and they both took it as a sign of agreement.

---

Sources say Westergaard has spent the past six weeks hiding out in his summer home in the Hamptons. When asked for comment, his representative told Buzzfeed, “Mr. Westergaard’s previous remarks were taken out of context and twisted by the media. He will be starting an anti cyberbullying foundation in his name. He asks that you respect his privacy during this difficult time.”

Sven looked up from the article Kristoff had printed and handed to him. “Shit, how the hell can anybody have a difficult time at a mansion in the Hamptons?”

“Show a little sympathy. The man’s just had to face the consequences of his actions for the first time in his life,” Kristoff said with a smirk.

“Ought to hang out with a pregnant woman more often, he’d learn his lesson really quickly about the consequences of-- oh, hey, Anna,” Sven said with a grimace. “You, uh, you forgiven me yet for getting onions on the pizza?”

She scowled and crossed her arms, her eyes shooting daggers at him across the room, and he sighed and picked up his phone to order a new one.

---

“Anna?”

She yelped in surprise and tugged the shower curtain back, coming face to face with a frowning Kristoff. “Jesus, you scared me. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry-- it’s just…” He frowned and held up his phone. “How does Twitter know I’m a vet?”

The bubbles in her hair forgotten, she leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “What? It’s just a picture of us leaving Chipotle.”

“Huh? Oh-- shit, sorry, let me scroll down to the replies.”

He pushed his glasses further up his nose as he did so before raising the phone screen again. “Look, they’re all sending me hamsters.”

She knew he was genuinely worried, and she was sympathetic, really she was, but Anna burst into laughter. “A hamster eating a banana.”

“Yeah, and they’re not supposed to even eat that much, so the bad pet ownership is bad enough already, but-- anyway, that’s beside the point, I--” He scowled. “Anna, I really don’t think this is funny.”

“It’s just a meme, Kristoff.”

“But I don’t get it.”

“Look at the picture of us again, and then the hamster, and then get back to me,” she said, yanking the shower curtain closed again.

“But--”

“If you still haven’t gotten the joke by the time I figure out how to shave my ankles, then I’ll come explain.”

Twenty minutes later, when she emerged wrapped in a towel, she peered into the bedroom and saw Kristoff sitting on the bed, his face bright red, as he stared down at his phone. “Solve the mystery yet?” she asked drily as she dug through his t-shirt drawer for something to wear.

“My, uh, my little brother, he uh...he knows about memes, so I texted him, and I...uh…”

She laughed again as she finished getting dressed. “Did he laugh at you, too?”

He groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Pretty sure he’s still laughing.”

---

“Anna! Anna! Miss Arendelle!” She rolled her eyes and tightened the drawstring of her hoodie. Kristoff put an arm protectively over her shoulders as they continued hurrying out of the doctor’s office. “Miss Arendelle, please, if I could just--”

“You can not.”

“We just want to know if it’s a boy or a--”

She turned on her heel and said drily, “It’s a mountain troll, obviously.” She gestured irritably at Kristoff. “See? Takes after his father.”

The next morning, she woke up to the ding of a text from Sam. Maybe you really are better off being your own PR person.

A link to another Buzzfeed article was attached. Curious, she tapped it.

Watch Anna Arendelle’s Hilarious Comeback To A Nosy Photographer!

“Would you look at that,” she mumbled under her breath.

Next to her, Kristoff stirred and rolled over. “Look at what?” he mumbled.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep, mountain man.”

---

Anna came home from a meeting one night and caught Kristoff piled up in the recliner reading one of her pregnancy books. To her surprise, his face was ghost-white. “Kris,” she asked, concerned, “what’s wrong? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“Just, you know, reading about the labor part.”

“Is it grossing you out that bad?” She couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re a vet, I’m sure you’ve seen worse. Especially with this stuff.”

He looked up then, and to her surprise, his eyes were solemn behind his glasses. “It’s different when you’re picturing your fiancee.”

All the air in her lungs escaped her in a quiet oh. She crossed quickly to the bed and climbed up, crawling towards him. He set the book on the nightstand and looked up at her, worry still in his eyes, as she settled her knees on either side of his lap. Out of habit, he set one hand on the swell of her stomach, the faintest of smiles appearing on his face when a little foot nudged against his hand.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” she said softly, settling her own hands on his shoulders. “It’ll all be fine.”

“Sometimes it’s not, though.”

She winced, and immediately he was apologetic. “I-- shit, sorry, I’m not trying to scare you, it’s just--”

“No, no, you’re right,” she reassured him, gently squeezing his shoulders. “Sometimes it’s not. But it will be. You know me, I’m too stubborn to let anything go wrong.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

She bit her lip; she had never seen him like this, never known him to be so nervous he couldn’t be comforted. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. “What part is scaring you?” she asked, her voice low.

“I don’t want to see you hurting. Especially when I know I can’t do anything to help.”

“You can help. Just having you in there will do so much.”

“But it won’t stop it,” he said, his voice forlorn, and she kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger there as she nuzzled her nose against his temple.

“No. But that’s what epidurals are for.”

“What if--” he said before trailing off, not daring to even give voice to the words.

“Kristoff Bjorgman, you listen to me,” she said, pulling back and waiting to continue until he reluctantly met her gaze. “I have no doubt in my mind that everything will be fine. Okay? I just-- I just won’t let anything bad happen.”

“But you can’t--”

“Have you ever seen anything stop me from doing what I want before?”

She felt him shake his head no.

“So nothing will stop me this time. I’m going to have this baby-- our baby-- and we’re both going to be fine, and you will too, and when we get to hold him, then you’ll forget you were ever worried about this at all.”

---

Anna and the interviewer both threw back their heads with a laugh as Mattias finished telling them both about his first time at the Oscars and how he’d failed to recognize the man who’d just won Best Actor-- twice.

“How about you, Miss Arendelle?” the interviewer asked as Anna finished wiping the last tear of laughter from her eye. “How do you feel about going to your first Oscars next year?”

She felt her cheeks coloring. “Oh, well, we’ll see if we even get there.”

The interviewer laughed. “Modest as always. There’s already lots of Oscar buzz around the movie and your performance in particular.”

Anna shifted awkwardly in her seat. “Um. Sort of like puking, if I’m honest.”

That got them both laughing again. “Speaking of puking, though,” the interviewer said cheerfully, “what’s it like being a first-time mother and a first-time movie star simultaneously?”

“Amazing and terrifying and wonderful and just...so many things all at once,” she admitted. “I really couldn’t do it without my support network, especially my fiance. It’s just...yeah. I can’t thank everybody enough.”

“Speaking of your fiance...are you willing to share your thoughts on where in the world Hans Westergaard has run off to?”

Her lips curled up into a smirk.

---

“Remind me to get more tomato juice at Trader Joe’s today,” Anna called as she pored through another script that had been sent her way-- another period drama, but this one, at least, wouldn’t involve squeezing her recently-pregnant body into a corset.

“We don’t need to,” he replied as he came into the kitchen carrying a basket of freshly dried towels. “You’ve been going through it so fast this week I set up one of those Amazon weekly delivery things. There’ll be three gallons of it on the porch in--” He glanced at his watch. “An hour. Wanna help me fold all this shit and watch HGTV?”

She stared at him for a long moment as he passed her, absentmindedly whistling one of the songs she’d driven him crazy with that winter, and walked into the living room.

It occurred to her, all of a sudden, that some things were worth waiting for-- but that sometimes, there was no longer any worth in waiting.

“Kris?” she said as he set the basket down.

“Yeah, baby?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as she crossed over to him and stood between his knees.

She cupped his face in her hands, studying his expression as he smiled softly and set his own hands on her hips. “Can I say something crazy?”

“You usually don’t bother asking.”

Under normal circumstances, she would have laughed and leaned down to kiss him, but instead she broke into a wide smile. “What if we just got married?”

#olivia this chapter is the reasson me and gabi pisssed ourseslves over your hamster meme hahahahaa #(sorry something is wrong w my s key)#kristanna #drtlp #my fics

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