#she has a bag of frozen shrimp and that keeps coming out sitting for hours removing a couple back in the freezer repeat repeat

[quicksilversquared]

In today's Why Are My Roommates Like This, one of them left ground beef 'thawing' (it never looked frozen) in the package in the sink for what had to be a solid 24 hours before cooking it up. She leaves meat out for hours on end before cooking all the time. I may not eat meat, but I'm pretty sure that one of the, like, core health things around meat handling is do not thaw meat on the counter, do it in the fridge and also raw meat should not sit at room temp for extended time periods.

Absolutely no idea how she's not gotten major food poisoning at this point, honestly.

[scullysexual]

Gone

If you’ve ever watched Dark (the German show on Netflix) it’s very similar to that. I started watching it and this popped into my head. I can also throw it onto the never ending list of college aus I keep writing. I’ll be some time before the next chapter is posted but I just wanted to see what you made of this.

Chapter One: Goodbye.

The dreams are always the same; a bright light, my sister shouting for me. And there’s somebody standing at the door. I can’t move. I reach for the gun but I can’t shoot. I’m just frozen…like I’m paralysed or something.

The cassette player clicks, the tape pausing. Mulder stares at it. Dr Montague sighs.

“That was recorded a year ago,” the therapist says, looking down at his notes. “After your hypnosis treatment.”

Mulder silently nods, not looking away from the player.

“Are you still having those dreams?”

Mulder turns away from the player, his eyes to the carpeted floor.

Montague looks up at his lack of response.

“I need you to talk to me, Fox,” he coaxes, a slight harshness to his voice. “You need to tell me if you’re still having these dreams.”

Mulder sighs and nods quickly.

“Right.” Montague looks down at his notes again. “And it also says that you were suffering from Insomnia, is that right?”

Mulder nods again. “Guess I didn’t want to have the dreams,” he shrugs.

“And Dr Werber prescribed you with sleeping pills. Have they helped?”

Mulder shakes his head. “With the sleeping yeah, not much with the dreams.”

“Okay.” The doctor scribbles something down in his book. “Well, we’ll review what we’ve spoken about today and I’ll get back to you on how to go forward.”

Mulder nods, wanting nothing more than for this session to be over with.

“I think that about wraps up today’s session then.” Mulder reaches for this bag, quicker than what is probably polite. Dr Montague doesn’t miss it. “I will see you next week, Fox?” he asks.

Mulder nods, already heading towards the door and out.

He runs down the steps of the office buildings, the fresh air a welcome reprieve from two hours in a stuffy office. He unlocks his bike, yanking it from the bike stand, and climbs on. He rides towards the forest, away from the city and the people, and the normalcy they had been able to continue on with during his absence.

A year gone and it was like everything was the same as it was before.

But no, it wasn’t, because just like his sister, another kid was missing.

 .:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 There’s whispers all around him.

Some people gawk at him as they walk past, others mutter to their friends. He picks up words like Spooky, Freak. Catches sentences as they fly past him; I heard he said his sister was abducted by aliens, Someone told me she was kidnapped by that guy who was selling vacuums, I was told she ran away. Mulder keeps his head down, remaining quiet.

That’s what everyone told him to do; his therapist, his teachers, his parents. Keep your head down, ignore them, don’t retaliate. It’s difficult, he wants to shake them off, knock a few of them around the head. He clenches his fist instead.

They said school was going to be the hardest part of adjusting back.

The latecomers hurry through the gate. Mulder is just about to turn and follow them inside when a body jumps him from behind.

His body smacks into the grass, the window being knocked out of him. The other body quickly moves off him as Mulder raises up onto his hands and knees, coughing over and over towards the ground, feeling like he’s about to cough his guts up.

“Whoa, dude…” a familiar voice says. “You’re guard must be way down today if you let that happen.”

Mulder finishes his coughing fit, standing as Ethan, his best friend (his one and only friend, actually) looks on concerned.

“I’m fine,” he says, getting a few last coughs out.

“Sure,” says Ethan, though he’s still not looking convinced. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

 They find their seats easily: back row in the corner. Mulder hooks his bag onto the back of his chair and sits himself down.

“Have I missed much, then?”

Ethan pulls a face as if to say no. “Not really. Oh, another kid went missing, but other than that, everything’s been pretty much quiet in Dullsville.”

Mulder smiles at the town nickname. “I saw the missing posts all over town.”

Ethan shrugs, “Who cares? Kid has a weirdo anyway, sprouting all that whacky shit about aliens in the corner. Who’d believe all that?”

Mulder turns away, suddenly uninterested in the conversation anymore. Whacky shit, yeah.

Ethan notices and realises. “Dude, I’m sorry. You know I don’t think that way about you.”

Mulder shakes his head, shaking him off. “It’s fine,” he says.

It wasn’t fine, though. All those things Duane Barry would continuously say may have seemed insane at the beginning but maybe there was some truth in it after all.

Mulder looks over to the door, to where the rest of the class filters in. His stomach tingles when he catches sight of curly red hair sat beneath a black beanie. They make eye contact and she smiles- almost as if she’s as happy to see him as he is of her- he smiles back, giving her a little wave, one she returns.

He turns back to Ethan, who now has a big smile plastered across his face.

“I didn’t think Scully would still be here,” he says.

“Dana?” The smile turns into a grin as Ethan leans back against the wall. “Guess she’s got a thing or two to stick around for now.” Scully looks back over to them and Ethan blows a kiss towards her. She turns around, rolling her eyes.

It suddenly dawns on Mulder just what Ethan meant. His stomach drops as he looks towards his friend.

“You and Scul…Dana?” he asks, almost unsure.

The grin still across his face, Ethan nods. “Guess a lot of things have changed after all.”

He turns back to Scully trying not to feel so disappointed at it all.

“You know, we’ve been thinking…” Ethan says and Mulder turns his attention back to him. “We’re gonna go to the Wishing Well, see if we can find Barry’s stuff.”

Mulder stares at him like he’s supposed to know what that means.

Ethan sighs and rolls his eyes. “You know, his stuff. His drugs and that. Pretty certain his stash is at the Wishing Well.”

Mulder thinks it over and nods. “What time?”

 .:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

 He sits on a log, waiting, his bike lying on the ground beside him. Above the trees, he sees the sun about to set, half the sky cast in a light purple-orange paint. Is his sister really up there? He’s starting to doubt himself.

“Ethan not here yet?”

Mulder turns around and smiles as Scully walks towards him. He shakes his head, standing.

“Typical,” Scully says, looking up to the sky and back down again. “He’d be late to his own funeral.” Mulder laughs as Scully spins around. “Charlie, keep up!”

Mulder looks behind her to see Charlie Scully walking towards them. He gives a confused look towards Scully.

“He begged to come,” she says as a way of explanation. “Not that I had much of a choice,” turning to Charlie and giving him daggers. She looks back at Mulder. “He said he’d snitch if I didn’t take him.”

“And I want a quarter of whatever you find,” Charlie adds.

“If we even find anything. For all we know this stuff could’ve been cleared out already.”

Mulder stares at her. All day he’s been wanting the chance to speak to her, since that first class when he found out she and Ethan were…something. It had been eating him up all day. He’d hoped, he’d really hoped.

Guess like most of his hopes, they’d all end in disappointment.

“Scully, I-“

“How are you-“

Mulder laughs nervously, Scully pursues her lips together.

“You start,” he says.

“How are you?”

“I’m good,” he nods. “It’s weird being back but yeah, it’s not been too bad.”

Scully nods, a slight smile across her face.

“You?” he asks.

“Okay. I’m been good.”

He nods back. A silence passes over them.

“You know, it was really strange you being gone,” she says, almost shyly.

Mulder looks to the ground, his hands in his pockets. “Couldn’t have been that strange,” he mutters but it’s quiet in the forest and so she hears it regardless.

He glances a look at her, sees her walls going up around her. Can almost imagine her tongue pressing hard against the back of her teeth, her chin lifting and her blue eyes turning to ice.

“You were gone, Mulder,” she answers, all warmth and friendliness gone from her voice. “I wasn’t gonna sit on your doorstep waiting for you.”

He lifts his head up fully, his own eyes turning to steel. “You didn’t have to get with my best friend, though.”

Yeah, that’s good. Make her hurt, too.

There’s a crack in her resolve. A break in her wall. It’s her turn to look away.

Good.

“What are you two just standing there for? Let’s go!” They hear Ethan shout just away from them. He strides up, clocking Charlie on the back of the head as he does so. “Why you bring the Shrimp?” He turns back to Charlie. “Is it not past your bedtime?”

“Fuck off,” Charlie says, swatting Ethan’s hand away when he goes to hit him again.

“I said he could come,” says Scully, turning away from the group and beginning to walk ahead.

“What’s up with her?” Ethan asks Mulder.

Mulder shrugs, not about to get into his and Dana’s conversation. The two start following her, Charlie walking behind them and rubbing his sore head.

“And I want more than a quarter of what you find!”

“Piss off,” says Ethan.

The Wishing Well had been the centrepiece of the forest. When they were younger, it had been a happy place, well looked after by the people of the town. It was a working well, once. Water in it every day, changed regularly, too. They’d throw their pennies in, making wishes, hoping they would come true.

As time went on, the well became overgrown. People stopped caring, kids stopped coming, they even stopped changing the water. Spider webs, wasps nest, ant hills became its inhabitants. The area was overgrown with grass, wildflowers, poisonous mushrooms. It became a place where teenagers would hang about. Nobody ever came here so nobody ever bothered them.

“Where is it then?” Mulder hears Charlie say.

“Bet it’s not even here anymore,” Scully says, annoyance clear in her voice.

“It’s just under the grass,” Ethan says. He walks over to a heavily grassy bit, removes a handful of moss but stops short when he realises that it isn’t there.

“Told you,” Scully says, looking away.

“Looking for this?”

They all turn as Phoebe Green appears out of nowhere, holding Ethan’s prize.

“That’s not yours,” Ethan says, stalking towards her.

Phoebe is quick and tall- taller than Ethan- and holds it above her head, out of his reach.

“It’s not yours, either,” she says. “Finders keepers.”

“Yeah,” says Ethan. What he lacks in height, he makes up for in body mass. He pushes Phoebe, she trips and falls, her head smacking against the wall of the well, dropping the bag of weed. Ethan scoops it up, proudly. “Finders keepers.”

Mulder stands there, unsure of to do.

“You fucking dick, Ethan,” Scully scolds. She walks towards Phoebe and kneels down. “Are you okay?”

Phoebe whacks Scully’s hand out of the way. “I’m fine, I don’t need your help.” She pushes herself off the ground, wipes her hands on her jeans. “Dickhead,” she calls to Ethan.

“Bitch,” Ethan casually calls back. He’s just about to open the bag when a growl emits from around them.

Fear runs through Mulder’s body, a chill up his spine. Phoebe and Scully back away from the well.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan asks.

“Probably a bear,” says Scully, shaking her own fear away.

The growl happens again, vibrating through the ground. Leaves shake and stones tumble about before it stops.

Charlie looks over, his face white. “I don’t think that was a bear.”

Mulder stares at the well. “I…I think it came from the well.”

Scully lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m telling you, it was a bear!”

A loud thud sounds from behind him. Mulder jumps back, shaking and genuinely scared as he shines his flashlight upon the sound of the thud.

“I don’t think we’re alone,” Phoebe says.

“Guys, there’s something in the well…” Charlie mumbles.

There’s a sudden downpour of rain, the sky darkening. Thuds and rustles and the growling sound happens again.

Mulder’s body propels him forward, he doesn’t even remember choosing to run, his feet just move.

He can hear the others behind him but he’s solely focused upon himself; running and running and running.

Until he freezes, his body falling onto the hard ground, chin smacking against a rock in the process.

A blinding white light forces his eyes closed. In the distance, he hears shouting. A name. Over and over.

Dana! Dana! Dana!

The light goes. He can move again. He hears a shout of Charlie! as the rain continues to pour down him.

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

So, as it has been every year for the past half decade, I was to be alone on Thanksgiving. Usually for simple reasons that anyone can understand.

Never room in the car for me to go along since we can’t have it and our house.

The people hosting are my step-dad’s son and his gf and both as so effin annoying you can’t imagine. I have a post in my Drafts about them that I haven’t posted yet because it pisses me off that much and I keep adding more whenever I look it over.

I have anxiety and low tolerance. In small rooms with too many people, I feel utterly drained of energy and damn near catatonic. Their house is full of small rooms with no space and too many living beings are inside. And adding 5 more would kill me.

This year they had planned to visit step-bro’s aunt in New York for Thanksgiving, and everyone else was going. So: Du, Be, Br, Da, Gr, Mom, K, K’s mom and Husband and several kids, & 5 dogs. Obviously I’m not going to the house of someone I don’t know, to be around people I don’t know, with no way of escaping for hours.

And mom, after the disaster of last year(Du had a tantrum over everything despite being 23), put her foot down and said she’s staying with me this year because I never get to go anywhere, I’m always left out of everything, and it isn’t fair when this is supposed to be family time and she’s known me longest.

She went shopping last week and for the first time in years, we were gong to have a personal dinner with all of my favs that we never get because what I like most others don’t and when there’s like 7 people you can’t cater to a single person. But all the shit they all like is stuff I hate so I’d get next to nothing at dinner almost every year.

A ton of surveys were done to save up money for the gift cards necessary to splurge on this little bit. And splurging consists of buying a medium bag of shrimp, a 16lb turkey, and a frozen chocolate silk pie at Walmart. That’s our kind of splurging for Thanksgiving because we’re poor.

And then 4 days ago we get told they nixed the plan to go to step-bro’s aunt’s house with some half-assed excuse about the drive being too long(when it’s an hour away) and her starting dinner ‘too early’ and they’re all coming up here. And I don’t know who’s paid attention long enough but there’s this thing where I get blamed for food missing despite step-dad and step-bro sitting on their asses and stuffing their faces with anything in reach. I’ve complained about this going back 5 years on this site. 

They eat so much and so quickly it disappears with no consideration for others. And mom heard some talk about looking forward to having shrimp cocktails and chocolate pie and she told me to eat the pie and shrimp now. We’ll split them evenly since she only bought enough food for 2 people, not 7. She wanted to make sure I actually got something since the plan was thoroughly ruined and she knows what will happen the day this shit goes down. 

I’ll be avoiding everyone all day and they’ll eat everything on me. Again.

We don’t even have tables or chairs btw. The kitchen is unfinished. We don’t have an oven. We got a crock pot, a microwave, a cooker, an electric griddle, and an air fryer. That’s why we weren’t having dinner here to begin with! Our poverty is bad! Outside what we got for Thanksgiving, we have little food so Thursday’s leftovers have to last a long time.

EDIT: Just found out today(11/25/2019), that they’ve changed up the plan again without notifying mom and I. Now they are all going to NY because they convinced step-bro’s aunt to move the time of dinner up 4 hours. But they’ve now insisted that mom and I not cook our food and just wait for Sunday so we can drive down to step-bro’s house and ‘all have a family dinner then’. They don’t plan on providing anything for this dinner either btw. They just think they’re getting 2 Thanksgiving meals and that mom and I are footing the bill(step-dad never pays for anything btw) happily.

People honestly wonder why some of us just don’t care about Thanksgiving and Christmas anymore? This is the shit that happened both holidays every year for nearly 5 years. What’s the point of having some special dinners when other people ruin them?

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Date Night

This third series reads as follows:

Shattered … Desolation … Determination … Us and Ours … Ratty Towels … The Sleepover … Skinner and the Punch … Oregon … Impossibilities … Something from Nothing … Out of the Car … Partners … News … Never Replace You ... The Chip

@today-in-fic

First series … Second series

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

His arm was sore from where Byers inserted the smallest of metal rods containing some kind of scientific doo-hickey that would tell them where he was, anywhere in the world, within a couple hundred yards, Mulder disbelieving but not willing to truly test the theory by going 600 miles the other side of the middle of nowhere. Now he watched Scully get hers while she talked quietly about this that and the other thing to Frohike … antiseptic, nick, probe, insert, Neosporin, two stitches, Bandaid.

“Ready, Mulder?”

Eyes drifted from where she was adjusting her sleeve, then pulling on her sweater, up to her face, “sore?”

“Not yet. Yours?”

“A little. I think Byers took out some latent anger with the scalpel.”

Byers gave them a smile as he cleaned up, “you do owe me $22 for food from our last poker night. I may have pulled the stitches a little tighter than I should have.”

Thanking them, then quietly reminding them to forget everything that had happened in the last four hours, Mulder and Scully headed out into the snow, which was beginning to blow down the alley and around the corner, freezing any and all exposed skin. The only thing he could see of Scully was a slit where her eyes were, squinted against the driving ice pellets, scarf thick and warm around her head, “hey.”

“Hey, what?”

“Wanna go on a date?”

Skidding to a stop when her boots hit a packed down section of snow, “a what?”

“A date. The kind of thing we skipped right over when we went from ‘hey, let’s surf’ to ‘hey, take off your pants’.

She inhaled a wee bit of yarn fuzz from her scarf at this point, “hey, take off your pants?”

“Not here, it’s cold but maybe later.” Reaching out to grip her mittened hand, “I think we should go do something that a normal couple would do.”

“What the hell do normal couples do?”

“I don’t know. We can go to the movies or go get some dinner or fly to Italy?” Eyes glittering now with possibilities, “or we could drive south until we get out of the snow or hey, we could pack a bunch of blankets and head to Babar and chill, no pun intended, until spring.”

Head spinning with a whirlwind of suggestions to match the gale whipping her coat, “slow down, partner. Babar is buried in snow and Italy is too long a flight for now. I don’t want to sit in the car for 8 hours to find the end to winter but I could really go for some Mexican and maybe a movie with one of those incredible large buckets of artificially buttered popcorn … Oh my God, Mulder, we need to go eat food right now.”

Laughing at her, pulling her scarf down enough to reveal the tip of her nose, he brushed his over it, “where do you want to eat? Fast or slow?”

“Slow. I want to watch them make the guac so I can request extra lime and onion.”

“For that reason, I won’t be kissing you later,” he could see the shape of her mouth through the scarf and kissing the general area, “so I’ll just do it now.”

Sudden giddy giggle emerged and she nudged him towards the car, “car, move, hungry.”

“Use your words, Scully.”

“Food.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

&&&&&&&

It took ten minutes to drive, park and given the ugliness of the weather, to be seated in a corner, cozy booth, menus in hand and waters on the way, “not too busy for a Saturday night.”

Grinning at him as she opened the menu, honing in on the fajita section, “it’s 5 degrees out and snowing. Every sane person is home, in their slippers, trying to keep warm.”

“More salsa for us then.” Digging into the freebies on the table, “what are you getting?”

“I was debating the fajitas for two, shrimp and steak.”

“Oh, I was looking at the chicken chimichangas.”

Moving in on the salsa as well, “I never said the fajitas were for sharing, Mulder.”

As his head dipped, smile wide, “you’ll have a ton of leftovers.”

Biting her chip and twinkling her eyes at him, “maybe.”

Two hours and two orders of Guacamole later, Scully had her feet up on the booth seat beside Mulder and he had his hand wrapped around her ankle, picking random green peppers off her plate, “think we should head out?”

“What? Is it already over? Dates usually last past 9pm, don’t they? And if so, we are severally short changing ourselves.”

“I don’t know how dates work? Maybe some do end at 7:47pm, give people a chance to get home, put on pajamas, complain to friends on the phone how the guy didn’t pay and the sour cream was warm.”

Shaking her head at him as she rested against the vinyl back, “I think we should wander the street for five minutes and see what the cool kids are doing these days.”

“Five minutes and they’ll be frozen kids.” Squeezing her leg, he shifted to pull out his wallet, “date night, guy pays, call me sexist but whatever.”

“I’m not complaining. I forgot my wallet in the car.” Crunching one last chip for the road, “we can get it when we walk past.”

Dropping tip on table and picking up bill, “I think we can manage without your wallet for the evening.”

“I also need some gum.”

“Car it is.”

&&&&&&&&

Shivering after two minutes, Mulder stopped dead in front of a store, nodded his head, pulled her inside, “come on.”

Warm air hit her face, what was exposed anyway, and her eyes lit up …

He’d taken them into a bookstore. An independent little place that when she stood on her toes to see over the stacks of items, seemed to extend backwards to infinity; more than likely a few hundred feet but still, whatever, felt like miles.

“Feel like staying?”

She would have heard him but she was already ten feet away, unraveling scarf, following her nose wherever it led, behind a stack, around a table, through a doorway marked ‘red things, cooking, fantasy and small’. Mulder hoped he’d see her again by spring.

Nodding to the one worker, bedecked in cardigan, kilt and Yankees ball cap, he meandered to a wooden carved sign hanging from the ceiling declaring the section on aliens, astronomy, alchemy and algebra. Believing he had fallen down a rabbit hole, he broke the silence by asking, “how late are you open?”

The kilted gentleman answered, his mouth full of pizza, “we’re open ‘til we close, man, no hurry at all. I live upstairs so it’s a short commute.”

As a Tortie cat wandered through, giving Mulder a thorough look and sniff, “how many books do you have in here?”

“Lost count a few years back.” Pointing to Mulder’s right, “there are two rooms in the direction your wife went and,” pointing now to his left, “three more than way. If you get lost, yell.”

And he did.

He found Scully again nearly two hours later as she surprised him coming around the corner of the doorway leading to ‘medical, marvelous, sparkly and green’, “oh, hi.”

“Hi.” Eyeing the stack of books nearly blocking her face, “find anything?”

She almost worked up to embarrassed, “this is my second stack. Corky already has the first one.”

Mulder gave her a look of complete incredulity, whispering, “kilt man is named Corky?”

“Yes, Fox.”

“Touche.” Setting book in hand on the pile by his feet, “ready to go?”

“We probably should although I haven’t even made it to the ‘fiction about dead people’,” looking over her shoulder and squinting to read the ornate sign, “humorous cats, chubby hamsters and historically ordinary men with mustaches.”

“Oh, we’ll be back. This may very well be my new favorite place in the universe.”

“Where was your original favorite place in the universe?”

“It’s slightly x-rated.”

Pretty sure she knew exactly where he was talking about, she had the sense to turn slightly red, cheeks pinking up enough to let him know she knew, “come on. We need to go find out if we have to ask my mother for a loan to buy Ramen so we can eat for the next month.”

Corky, having moved on to lounging in a reclining aluminum lawn chair behind the checkout desk, cat on stomach, book in hand, dislodged animal and stood when he caught sight of them walking towards him, “I see you’ve found more.” Perusing the titles, nodding at some, eyebrow raising in appreciation at others, “good stuff, too. Totally don’t even remember getting this one in so kudos for finding it. If you don’t like it, bring it back, I’d like to read it when you’re done.”

And he was completely serious.

So was Scully when she nodded, “I will.”

Mulder wanted to ask if Corky needed a part-time employee but refrained, instead, pulling out his credit card, “what’s the damage there, Corky?”

The amount did not knock them off their feet. Made them inhale a bit deeper, wonder fleetingly if maybe they should put one or two back on the shelves but then Corky, being Corky, an excellent Corky in a world of Johns and Ryans and Donalds, handed back Mulder’s card, “and just ‘cause the weather sucks and your wife bought something with a shiny cover,” holding out a box of donuts, open, glazed, “you both get a snack for the road.”

Scully, getting a little hungry again, took one without question, and feeling the calm of paper and dust and musty pages surrounding her, “do you have a section on aura mapping and/or aura projecting?”

“Of course. In the back under ‘rainbows and righteous soul things’.”

“My husband would like to marry you.”

Holding up his left hand and occupied ring finger, “taken but I’d love to have a conversation with you about the whole aura thing if you’ve ever got the time. You are a very curious shade of red.���

Mulder glanced at Scully’s hair, in the process of being trapped under her hat, “I always assumed I’d be blue.”

Once everything was bagged and they’d finished a few more minutes of conversation, they headed out to the street, Mulder hefting two bags while Scully carried one, “thank God for canvas bags. Paper ones wouldn’t have held up.”

“I may not hold up. Did everything you bought have to be hardcover?”

“Pot, kettle, Mulder. You’ve got a 20 lb. book about tasseography.”

Putting stuff in the trunk, he grabbed her before she could open her door, turning her, leaning her against the Jeep, wiggling down scarf to kiss her long and slow, only pulling away when he could feel her begin to smile, “we should date more often.”

“We should and you know what’s best about dating me?”

“I have at least 480 reasons but lay it on me.”

Tugging her scarf up after another quick kiss, “you get to go home with me and take your pants off.”

“Always with the pants off.”

“Do you object?”

“Just get in the car.”

&&&&&&&&

Eventually, they arrived home, slow-going on the icy roads, to have to lug everything upstairs, leftovers included this time, “okay, there is a four book limit for our next visit.”

“Each or total?”

Tripping on the last step and hitting the wall with his elbow, “each.”

As she took the largest of the bags from him, “I can live with that. It won’t happen but I can live with the concept of it.”

Giving her a tired smirk, “then only paperbacks.”

Wet boots left at the bottom of the stairs, they only had to shed frozen coats and accessories before they could hone in on hot chocolate packets from the cupboards and super thick socks from the bedroom, “meet me on the couch in five minutes.”

Like he’d ever not meet her on the couch in five minutes and after the five minutes were up, he turned, about to yell that she was late when she appeared, package of fudge striped cookies in one hand and two mugs of cocoa in the other. Taking his, he sipped, burned his tongue, nibbled a cookie, loved his life in general, watched her settle before she asked, “so, what did you buy?”

“Didn’t you already see the titles when he rang them up?”

“Yes, but now I want you to tell me why you bought them and the order you’re going to read them.”

Another sip, another burn, another nibble, “you are such a geek, Scully.”

“Corky also thinks I’m your wife.”

Offering her a bite of his cookie, which she accepted readily, “we should get on that.”

Perfectly fine with marriage hanging in the air over them for what could possibly be years to come, “probably.”

[cakeandpi]

Let Me in Your Arms (AO3) Words: ~6k Kaldur’ahm/Roy

As always, thanks to @lizziegoneastray for dealing with me whining about fic again

He’d gone on patrol tonight hoping to find enough action to stop himself from thinking. Instead, it’s apparently a national holiday for villains or some shit, so he’s only stopped a few robberies. Things he could have taken care of in his sleep.

He flips through the League channels once; twice. Then the Team’s. There’s nothing but idle chatter - it’s a slow night for everyone.

“Jeez, where’s a supervillain when you need them?” He grumbles to himself. A week before, and he’d be glad for this peacefulness. But that was before Kaldur had kissed him, all chapped lips and clumsily bumping his nose against Roy’s. Kaldur had blushed furiously after, dark enough to see, and Roy had been too stunned to tease him about it then. And then he’d grinned, which had stolen Roy’s breath far more than that kiss, and Roy knew he was doomed.

Roy runs a hand through his hair in frustration. Because stars above does he want to see Kaldur smile like that again, but he’s also not entirely sure what Kaldur wants from him. He knows what people have wanted from him in the past. And how that’s ended, each and every time. Fuck, Roy, why can’t you just do this one thing - His fingers twist into his hair and pull. No. No, this is Kaldur. There’s no way Kaldur would say anything even remotely like that. But he’d want that eventually, wouldn’t he? Everyone did.

It’d be smarter to stop this before it even starts. But that smile…

He’s so doomed.

—

Roy’s heart beats harder to see Kaldur waiting for him at his weapons cache when he finally gives up on anything happening on tonight’s patrol. He tries to wipe his suddenly sweaty hands on his pants inconspicuously. “Sup?” Real smooth, Roy, total charmer there. Roy stows his weapons with uncharacteristic haste, and has to force himself to slow down to avoid setting off his trick arrows.

Kaldur smiles at him, in that way makes Roy feel like he’s been blessed with a treasure, before turning away so Roy can change clothes in privacy. “Not much. Rogues have been keeping unusually quiet this entire month.”

“Something big is doubtlessly in the works,” Roy says, more for something to say than that he thinks Kaldur wouldn’t have already thought of that. Changed and his mask shoved into a jeans pocket, they exit the small room into an alleyway. Kaldur hums, and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his civvies. He doesn’t try to kiss Roy, and Roy finds himself agitated by that. “You hungry? Let’s go grab something before the world starts waking up and shit gets crowded.”

Kaldur hesitates. “I had thought, maybe…”

Roy grabs his arm and pulls him along. “You had thought, my place? Not without a date first.” He does his best to ignore the nerves twisting his stomach into knots. He doesn’t get to be nervous when he’s the one who said ‘date’. Not that he meant it. He doesn’t think. Maybe? But Kaldur being so close is doing funny things to him, like making it hard to concentrate on anything except how it might feel if Kaldur kissed him again.

“I didn’t bring money with me, Roy.” Kaldur hisses as they reach an all night diner. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it. My treat.” He tries not to dwell on how Kaldur has yet to fuss about the word ‘date.’  Or how this is a really bad idea and he shouldn’t be encouraging this. That particular feeling can stuff itself inside a box and go away. This isn’t going to destroy their friendship. Can’t. They’re stronger than that.

—

The sun is up and both of them are full and yawning by the time they reach Roy’s Star City apartment. Well, Roy is yawning. Kaldur seems just fine, which, the guy has been in Atlantis the past few weeks. Different time zone and all that shit. “Do you want to come inside?” Roy isn’t sure of what answer he wants. No would put an end to his worrying, but also his hopes. Yes would be laden with pitfalls he’s not ready to deal with.

“Another time?” Kaldur bites his lip, as if he’s the one conflicted. “I am supposed to be on monitor duty at the Watchtower soon.”

“You don’t want coffee or anything?” He asks, mostly to be polite. He knows Kaldur doesn’t drink the stuff. Okay, maybe because he doesn’t want Kaldur to go.

Kaldur shakes his head, and then pauses. Grins shyly. “Well, there might be one thing.” And steps close enough that Roy can feel his breath on his face.

Oh.

“You… did say this was a date, right?” Kaldur asks when Roy just stands there. Fight or flight be damned, frozen like a deer about to be steamrollered is more like it. “Roy?”

The growing uncertainty threading through Kaldur’s voice brings him crashing back to the here and now.

“Sorry.” Roy says, which he hasn’t said something so in the moment foolish since… well, he’s sure he’s done something worse. It’s not coming to mind at the moment though. Kaldur steps back instantly, already ducking his head and mumbling some apology and Roy could kick himself. “I was wool gathering. I… I would like that. Yeah.”

Kaldur freezes, eyes wide and hopeful and somehow also wary. He doesn’t move closer however, so this time it’s Roy that closes the distance between them. Kaldur’s lips are just as chapped as last time, maybe even more. At least their noses escape unscathed this time. “You should get some chapstick,” Roy comments as he pulls back. Kaldur’s eyes flutter open, and it’s like watching the sun rise on his face when he smiles.

He is doomed, and he does not care.

—

The big thing that the supervillain underworld went quiet for eventually explodes. Literally.

The League and the Team have their hands full keeping up with damage control. There’s no time for worrying over things like feelings and kissing and all the things said kissing might lead to. Not when a half dozen cities are on fire.

By the time it’s all over, Roy could swear his arms are about to fall off. “That sucked.”He says and gets a round of agreeing murmurs.

“Injuries, Red Arrow?” Black Canary. Roy shakes his head. “Good. Go home, eat, rest.”

That he balks at all is a sure sign that Kaldur has rubbed off on him. “My report-”

“Can wait until you are not dead on your feet, kid. Go.”

Kid. He makes a face at her and leaves before she can think better of it and give him work.

��

He sleeps for twelve straight hours and would have slept more if not for his stomach reminding him that it had been far too long since he’s eaten. Groaning, he sits up slowly, every muscle protesting. Fuck.

Cooking is too much work. And plain boiled eggs is just sad. But anything would better than this gnawing emptiness, and he’s peeling the shell off one when someone beats on his door.

Roy ignores it, only for the  knocking to start up again. “Okay, okay, I’m coming! Fucking hell.”

He shuffles to the door, the soreness in his legs and knees and ankles making him feel old. Flinging it open, he stares. “Kal.” He’s in a long sleeved sweatshirt instead of his usual jacket, and it is not fair that anyone could look that good. It’s not fair that he’s sore and starving and unable to appreciate this sight like he ought.

“You were not answering your phone.” Kaldur tells him, eyeing him up and down, clearly disapproving of something.

“I never do.” Did it have to be Kaldur that got sent to check on him? Anyone else he could have properly gotten mad at. “I think it’s dead right now, anyway.”

“Are you going on another mission?”

Roy stares at him. “What? No, why the fuck -” Oh. He never changed clothes last night, only taken off his mask before collapsing into bed. He sighs. “Come in.”

Kaldur doesn’t demure this time, and thankfully Roy is too exhausted to get properly worked up over Kaldur being in his apartment.

He shuffles back to his room and peels off his clothes with a sigh. Stars, that felt good. He should probably take a shower - a quick check tells him that he looks like shit - but he’s not sure he wouldn’t collapse.

This is probably where most people would think about their crush being a thin wall away and imagine them… ‘helping.’ Not that that sounded necessarily disagreeable. But he’s not itching for that either. Maybe there is something wrong with him, like he’s been accused in the past.

“I’m a mess.” He grimaces at his reflection before going to throw on questionably cleaner, but definitely looser, clothes.

Kaldur is still there, and this time Roy registers the bag in his hand. And the smells coming from it. “You brought food?” Roy can’t be bothered to blush at the grumbling his stomach makes.

“Mm.” Kaldur sets the bag down on Roy’s small coffee table, shoving aside an abandoned book and various detritus. “Thought you might not have eaten yet. Was going to offer it to Kid Flash if you didn’t want it though.” Meaning that Kaldur thought Roy would have nothing nutritious in his apartment. Which was fair enough - he usually didn’t.

“Give me that.” Roy practically snatches the food Kaldur’s pulled out of the bag. “Wally has people to look after him, I’m keeping this.”

Kaldur grins, and Roy unwraps his sandwich and takes the biggest bite he can manage to keep himself from saying anything unnecessary. Like, ‘you’re cute’, or ‘I like it when you smile’, or 'I want to kiss you again.’ It’s difficult, especially with Kaldur sitting right next to him.

Kaldur’s brought enough for them both. “Shrimp again?” Roy chuckles when he sees what Kal’s sandwich is stuffed with.

“It’s good.” Kaldur says. “Can’t get this in Atlantis.”

“Yeah, I imagine frying stuff is difficult down there.”

They eat in silence after that. It’s difficult to not all but inhale his food, but he makes himself slow down. Last thing he wants right now is to make himself sick. Once the ravenous beast in his stomach is temporarily sated, Roy tries to contemplate getting up. But he’s full now, and he’s still unbelievably sore, and tired, and this is his place so it’s no one’s business where he sleeps. Right? Except Kaldur might mind if he conks out right here, using his shoulder like a pillow. He glances sideways and up, and his face warms to find Kaldur looking at him with those beautiful eyes.

“Hey, thanks for that.” He says. A smile, and oh fuck he hasn’t brushed his teeth and Kaldur’s leaning forward. “Uh.”

Kaldur only kisses the tip of his nose and gets up. Fuck. That’s not fair, not even really kissing him and then running. He should say something.

“Don’t leave.” Okay, maybe sound less desperate. “I mean. Uh. Please?” Yeah. Smooth recovery.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Kaldur doesn’t look at him. Fuck, did he do something wrong? Does he smell? Shit, he probably reeks. “I know you’re tired, I do not wish to take advantage of-”

“You aren’t.” Roy says gruffly, cutting him off. “Sit your ass back down.”

Kaldur does look at him then, one eyebrow quirked in the way that says he’s suspicious of Roy’s intent, but not so much as to call him on it. After a moment, too long of one for Roy’s liking, Kaldur does sit. Roy immediately drops his head back onto Kaldur’s shoulder.

“Roy?”

“Like you said. I’m tired. But my bed is all the way over there,” Roy gestures, “and I don’t want to get up.”

Quiet. “Are you asking me to carry you?”

Roy sputters at that image and sits up. “What? No!” Not that he wouldn’t like that. Maybe. Better not think about that, actually. “I just. Damnit Kal, just stay here and let me -” use you as an incredibly cute pillow  “- rest, okay? You… you can grab a book or something, keep yourself from getting bored.”

This is not a smart idea. Kaldur’s going to think him ridiculous and leave. Roy smells like sweat and he hasn’t washed and Kaldur’s sensitive to smells and he wouldn’t want to sit next himself right now, let alone cuddle. But Kaldur just wraps an arm around his shoulder and pulls him close. Urges Roy’s head back down on his shoulder. Roy swallows, hoping he’s not blushing, and draws his legs up.

“I have to leave around four.” Kaldur murmurs as Roy closes his eyes.

“That’s all right. Just. Stay for a bit.” And maybe he can pretend this and kissing will be all Kaldur would ever want.

—

He doesn’t remember Kaldur leaving. But he wakes up with a blanket draped over him and a pillow under his head. Which hadn’t been out here when he fell asleep.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he spies a note on the now-clean coffee table. ‘Had to go. Left leftovers in the fridge.’ Leftovers? He thought he’d eaten everything earlier. But no, the sneaky bastard had had extra, somehow. He stares at the takeout shoved into his fridge, with the tacky logo stamped all over the paper wrapping. The half-peeled boiled egg sits next to it.

He feels oddly warm and fuzzy inside. If he hadn’t known better, he might think himself sick.

—

“Hey Red!” Long, long practice keeps him from jumping when Nightwing appears out of nowhere. “How you doing?”

“Been better,” Roy rasps. At least, if he must suffer through a cold, he’s not feverish. Even if he is practically living on cough drops right now to give his poor lungs a break.

“You’ve sounded better too. Seen a doctor about that?”

Roy snorts dismissively. “You seen a doctor about that?”

Nightwing grimaces and tucks his hand - bulkier than usual - out of sight. “Don’t need to.” Roy rolls his eyes at his stubbornness.

“Well, fortunately, I don’t need to do long distance surveillance in silence.”

“Hm. Just don’t pass it on to Aqualad.”

Roy nearly inhales his cough drop, and ends up with a coughing fit worse than he’s been battling after almost choking himself. “Excuse me? That is none of your business, Nightwing.” It’d be more threatening if his voice wasn’t all raspy from not dying.

Nightwing’s hand stops hovering uselessly over his back. “Is too, if whatever it is you two got between you winds up taking him out. Or you.”

He knows Nightwing too well to think he only means accidentally giving Kaldur this damn cough. Roy glares at Nightwing, unsure if he should be offended over Nightwing’s hidden meaning, or at being tacked on like an afterthought. “Noted,” he says, baring teeth. “Now I suggest you go away and stop bothering me.” He doesn’t need any fake concern, let alone ‘help’ that’ll turn this simple ‘watch the contact and try not to cough up a lung’ mission into explosions.

“You’re no fun to tease anymore.” Nightwing sighs.

“It’s not teasing when you’re being all protective.” He doesn’t like it when Ollie gets all fatherly on him. He really doesn’t like this shit from Nightwing. “What clued you into the fact that Kal’s mortal like the rest of us? Or are you just worried that you’re going to have to step up on being responsible if he’s not around to carry your ass?”

“Oh, excuse me, mister ‘too good to be called a sidekick’ -”

Okay. That’s it. If Nightwing wants to coast on the team, and if Kaldur doesn’t want to call him on it, that’s none of his business, fine. Whatever. What’s not fine is making that somehow his problem that Kaldur might not be paying as much attention to the team as usual. “Fuck off, Nightwing. Or do the surveillance for me so I can go home. But don’t stand there and lecture me over shit that’s none of your fucking business.”

—

It really sucks that Kaldur has gone back to Atlantis. Not that he can’t take care of himself or anything. He can. But at least Kaldur would be sympathetic about Roy’s persistent cough.

Actually, he’d probably be just like Dinah and Ollie and tell him to go to a doctor. Assuming Kaldur would have stopped there and not simply dragged his miserable ass in for a check up. But at least Kaldur he could have wheedled soup out of, instead of resorting to store-bought cans. Ugh.

It kind of occurs to him that he should maybe apologize to Nightwing. But at the same time, he’s still pissed over the entire exchange, so there’d be no reason to apologize yet.

(He never does, because then he’d have to admit to being wrong about something. And he’s not wrong about the team letting Kaldur do a lot of heavy lifting. He’ll apologize when that changes.)

—

His cough finally goes away on its own - good fucking riddance - and it’s another two weeks before he gets to see Kaldur for more than a passing moment during mission briefs or on the way to - or from - a mission.

But now they’ve managed to catch each other in Watchtower’s library - and this place is in space, why does it need an actual physical library? - and there’s no mission or other concern taking them away. Kaldur’s got a bandage on his upper arm, and Roy had only meant to ask him about it, to make sure he was taking care of himself. Because as bad as he is, Kaldur’s kind of worse about pretending to be invulnerable, what with being Atlantean and thus a bit more impervious to a lot of things than the average hero.

It’s a challenge, getting Kaldur to admit he’s not actually perfect, and sometimes it’s kind of fucking annoying because it’s been over a month since they’ve managed to do more than exchange brief ‘hellos’ and now Kaldur’s gone and gotten wounded -

“It’s nothing,” Kaldur says as Roy traces careful fingers around the edge of the bandage.

“Nothing my ass,” Roy growls. “What’d you do, fist fight a shark or something?”

“Hardly. It’s merely a cut, nothing serious.” Kaldur reaches up, catches Roy’s hand that’s wandered up to Kaldur’s shoulder. “And what about you? You looking for an excuse to feel me up?”

“Uh.” Roy’s mouth goes dry and he freezes for a second before he takes in the tiny amused smirk on Kaldur’s lips. It’s the same one he had when he told Roy that Atlanteans totally and definitely didn’t eat any sort of seafood. He relaxes, and Kaldur’s smirk widens into a full blown smile. “Yeah.” He wasn’t, not really, but now that Kaldur’s brought it up, yeah.

Kaldur moves first, and Roy gasps as he gets pushed back against a wall - thankfully not one of the shelves full of books, he doesn’t want to think about it falling over and explaining that to anyone. The space between them disappears as Kaldur presses their mouths hard together and Roy’s hands scrabble for purchase on Kaldur’s shirt. Kaldur pulls back for half a second and kisses him again, firm and insistent and eager and maybe kind of needy, and that combination more than anything makes it hard to remember how to breath.

Which is silly cause he’s made out plenty of times in the past so he knows how this works. Or should, at least. Something about Kaldur’s unpracticed eagerness makes it hard to think.

Stars above, Kal had paid attention to that comment about chapstick.

Roy manages to move his hands to Kaldur’s face, cupping his cheeks, and pull him back a little. Just a little, so he can see Kaldur’s closed eyes and his golden eyelashes and feel his exhale on his face. “Like this,” he breathes before fitting their mouths together again, softer but no less eager. And definitely needy on his own part.

Teaching Kaldur how he likes to be kissed is something he could do all day. Both of them learning how Kaldur likes to be kissed is something he could do all year.

—

Talking to Kaldur about feelings and where whatever this thing between them is going is something he could avoid all century.

—

But they probably should talk. Need to talk. Cause they haven’t yet, and watching shitty movies with Kaldur - okay, taking the everloving piss out of awful terrible monster movies, because exploding fish, really? - has turned into something that’s definitely not watching movies. He’s on his back on his couch, with Kaldur top of him, and Kaldur’s mouth doing devastating things to Roy’s neck as a cool hand creeps up his shirt.

Roy wriggles and gasps as Kaldur’s fingers find a particularly sensitive spot. “Like that?” Kaldur asks, grinning wickedly at him before going back to working on leaving what will probably be an impressive hickey.

“Kaldur.” His fingers clench tight on Kaldur’s arms. The bandage is gone, Kaldur’s wound healed. Not even a scar left. He still hasn’t gotten a solid answer on what happened there.  “Kal.” And honestly, he doesn’t care right now about that. He feels like he’s floating on these hazy waves of pleasure. He can’t even be bothered to fumble for the remote to mute the TV and postpone the fate of the partying beachgoers who’re doubtlessly doomed against the detonating sealife.

“Mm.” Kaldur hums and shifts. Shifts again, and oh, fuck. He’s jolted from floating back down to reality and physical responses and where this could all too easily head. Ha, head. He’s hilarious.

It takes a moment to get his fingers to cooperate on pushing against Kaldur’s shoulders, instead of pulling. Because he feels good, all things considered, and it’s not like it’d be world-ending to just let it happen and - no. No. He’s tried that, and that didn’t work out either, and it’s not like that’d be fair to Kaldur. Fuck, how’d this get so complicated over something that should be simple?

“Wait.” He huffs, trying to bring himself back down to earth. Away from the warmth suffusing his body, from his heart thudding in his chest, from the easier path of don’t think just let it happen don’t fight don’t think just go with it let it happen don’t don’t fight think…

He doesn’t want to fight with Kaldur. Not over this, of all things. Because fighting means anger and saying shit he doesn’t ever mean but says anyway - or that he means but said in the worst possible way - and he doesn’t want to do that with Kaldur. Because Kaldur always gives as good as he gets and Roy’s not sure he wouldn’t shatter this time around.

“Wait.” He says again, before taking in that Kal’s weight is gone and that he’s sat up and shoved himself down against the far arm of the couch where he’s not on top of Roy.

Roy swallows, throat suddenly dry, and sits up slowly. Kaldur’s looking down, hands fidgeting in his lap. “Sorry.” Kaldur says. “That was… too fast, wasn’t it? Sorry. Um.”

This would be easier if his heart would stop beating so loudly. Don’t fight. “A little.” Roy says. “Good. But uh.” How did people talk about this without fighting? Without anger and red faced accusations? Fuck. “I, uh.”

Shit. Kaldur’s rubbing his neck now and looking away. If he doesn’t do something to fix this, Kaldur’s going to say something awkwardly bland and run away and hide in the ocean. He can’t let that happen. Can’t, not without trying to reach him.

“I liked that. A bit too much.” He lies. Doesn’t lie. The evidence is in his body and that means he likes it, right? Senseless argument. He gets a similar reaction from adrenaline rushes, doesn’t mean he wants to fuck his missions. “Just… um.”

He’s terrible at this. Maybe he should say something awkward and bland and feeble and hide in the arctic. He hears the North Pole is freezing this time of year. Rising noise draws his attention to the TV and the still playing movie and the partying beachgoers fleeing explosions and fish. He jabs at the remote and the screen turns black and the noise goes away. Better.

“I… I’m not ready for that either.” Kaldur says to the coffee table. The halting and stumbling words Roy’s been trying to dredge up scatter. Either. Fuck. Fuck. So much for hopes. “I didn’t mean to get carried away, just… got caught up. You know?”

“Yeah.” Roy says. Which will hurt him more? Doing this now or waiting until whenever ‘ready’ happens? Either way, there’s no way Kaldur would want to stick around anymore. There’s no way Kaldur would be okay with only every now and then, let alone never … Shit. This is going to hurt, and hurt bad. He’ll be lucky if Kaldur would be willing to still be friends after.

It’s one thing when it’s just himself. It’s one thing when he doesn’t really give a shit about if whoever he’s kissing is going to be heartbroken or hurt or angry or whatever over this.

It’s a whole other thing to know Kaldur would blame himself if Roy doesn’t say something now.

“Roy?” A hand on his shoulder, and Roy realizes he’s twisted his fingers into his hair and has been pulling at it again. Kaldur’s eyes search his face, worried and concerned, and Roy bites his lip.

Fuck.

He’s doomed.

Might as well get this over with. Then he can get drunk and deny having feelings, or that they can be hurt, or that he has only himself to blame for getting them hurt.

Roy looks back down at the coffee table. There’s a chip in the wood. He can’t remember if that was always there or not. Probably there when he bought it; it was a really cheap table after all. It’s been witness a good half dozen of these ‘discussions’, and it, at least, has never accused him of not being whole.

“I…” Dammit, drawing this out is not going to make it hurt less. Deep breath, hold it. Exhale slowly. Fail completely to calm the nerves clawing at him. Try again. “I probably won’t ever actually want to, Kal.”

He waits for the hand on his shoulder to jerk away. For Kaldur to say something he can get properly mad at. For Kaldur to just get up and leave and not look back. And really, this’s Kal, he doesn’t do shit like like that - except he’d thought the same about everyone before too. Shit, Roy, that’s messed up. I’m out.

One day he’ll stop thinking about the past. Right now is not it.

“Okay.” The hand slides across his back as Kaldur gives him a one-armed hug. “That’s fine.” Yeah. Yeah, this’s Kal, and he doesn’t do shit like that. No, not making a big deal out of crap is much more like him. Course he’d say ‘okay’. That’s how Kal’s team wound up in half the messes they did in the first place, even now after years of experience.

“How can you say that?” He extracts his fingers from his hair, careful to actually let go first. Puts them on his knees. Squeezes hard. His heart is jackhammering, too loud and too eager to accept Kaldur’s easy words. Apparently Kaldur didn’t understand, if he thinks the solution’s that simple. “Fuck, Kal, I’m not joking or anything, you can’t just wait this out or -”

“Roy, look at me.”

“No.” He’s being churlish, but it’s his apartment and his own heart that’s going to be shattered by whatever Kaldur’s going to say so he can be rude if he wants.

“Roy.” Fingers catch his chin and tug, insistent but gentle. “Please.”

He swallows hard, mouth dry. Fuck, fine. For a please he can look Kaldur in the face for whatever’s coming.

“Hey.” Kaldur’s hands come up to cup his face, and for a second Roy’s scared he’s going to be kissed. Because that’s the last thing that needs to happen right now. But Kaldur doesn’t, he just looks at him. “It’s okay, Roy. Really.” A thumb caresses his cheek, right below his eye, and Roy inhales shakily.

“How?” Which, he should be happy to hear ‘okay’ and ‘it’s all right’ for fucking once. He really should. But past experience has taught him it isn’t, it never is, even if this is Kaldur and Kaldur wouldn’t say that if he didn’t think it was true. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? It always winds up not being true. “Sure it’s fine for now, but what about weeks from now? Months?” Years, he wants to add. Means to, but it catches on the way out.

Kaldur shrugs. “Because I’d rather be around you?” He says it like it’s something obvious that Roy’s missed.

—

Roy still goes on solo missions, the idea of being a sidekick still chafing under his skin. Kaldur still leads his team. After, if they aren’t too tired and beat up, if their schedules match up they clean up and go on dates.

Kaldur still kisses him, which is something he’d kind of feared would stop. It doesn’t, not at all, even if sometimes they have to pause and sit back and wait for their bodies to settle down, knees knocking together and hands refusing to part even so.

It’s… kind of nice, even if Roy finds himself waiting for the other shoe to drop. That Kaldur has changed his mind, that this isn’t enough. But slowly, slowly, he manages to relax enough to forget about it.

Maybe this’ll last.

—

“They wouldn’t even survive that sort of rapid pressure change.” Kaldur grumbles to the movie as the caged divers plummet deep into the ocean. “Let alone be that coherent.”

“Be a boring rest of the movie.” Roy’s fingers trail over the shell of Kaldur’s ear. He shifts as best he can, what with Kaldur lying on top of him - the arm of the couch is not the most comfortable pillow. Kaldur waits til he’s done adjusting and then tucks his head back under Roy’s chin.

“Only if they didn’t use their imaginations, Roy.”

Roy closes his eyes, content with Kaldur’s occasional disapproving comments to fill him in on what was happening on in the movie. He feels happy. Content. Safe, with Kaldur’s fingers rubbing small circles along the arm he’s got slung over Kaldur’s chest. The only thing that tells him the movie’s over - beyond the swelling of music and a lack of Kaldur complaining about the worst diving practices ever - is Kaldur’s sigh and nuzzling against him. “Sleepy? You haven’t said much.”

“Mm. Just wool gathering.” Arguably ought to be tired what with having been on one mission or another for five out of the past six days. But they’d been mostly easy recon missions that had not blown up because he knows what stealth actually means. Sometimes he thinks he should offer primers for Kaldur’s team but they’d probably take offense. “Been thinking, actually.”

“What about?”

Roy hesitates then, cause things have been good, these past few months. Really good. Enough that he doesn’t want to unbalance everything. Course, he’s survived things going sideways and shit before, but those times he wouldn’t have lost Kal too. That extra danger gives the fear an extra edge. And he’d rather lose several teeth first before actually admitting that out loud.

And… all the pretty and nice words he’d come up with thinking about this earlier are gone. Great. Simple and crude route, then.

“Do you… want to? Have sex, that is.”

If Kaldur’s attention had lapsed in the time he took him to actually ask, he’s got all of it back now. “Um?” Kaldur turns and shifts so his back isn’t against Roy anymore, so he can push himself up one elbow. He looks right at Roy and the confusion at Roy offering that, especially after making it clear such a thing was off-limits, is clear in his eyes. “Why?”

Roy shrugs, face heating. He makes himself meet Kaldur’s confused gaze for all that he’d really rather not. “I just… I dunno. It was just a question, Kal.” Defensiveness rises in his voice despite his efforts to squash it. It’s harder than he expects because usually he’s feeding the feeling, not stopping it.

“Is this because I told you about still liking Tula?”

Roy scoffs in denial and looks away. Then bites his lip. “Maybe?”

He remembers that night, with him and Kaldur coming onto the Watchtower from a mission, to find Garth and Tula waiting for Kaldur. Remembers the subtle changes on Kaldur’s face as they told him of their upcoming marriage, and if he would be home for the ceremony. Remembers holding Kaldur in private later, as Kaldur did his best to not admit he felt anything but happiness for them.

Remembers not being proud of the emotions that had welled in his chest then.

Kaldur does that thing where he starts to sigh and then swallows it. A weight on his shoulder tells him Kaldur’s settled back down on top of him. But that warm, kinda fuzzy feeling from earlier is gone, replaced with a tense nervousness that buzzes through his jaw and neck and down his spine.

“Roy, I didn’t mean to upset you, telling you that. I can… keep those things to myself, if it bothers you.”

“I know you aren’t going to do anything.” At least, when he’s using his brain. And even when he’s not, that’s not what he’s afraid of. “I do feel a little jealous? I don’t know.”

Kaldur’s hand on his cheek turns him back to face him. “And you went from jealous to ‘let’s have sex’?”

“Yeah, well.” His eyes flick away for a moment, then back to Kaldur. “If you were with her, you’d probably be getting some action, you know? So.” He shrugs and immediately stiffens as Kaldur starts to laugh. “What?”

“No, no, it���s fine, Roy. Really.” Kaldur says between chuckles.

“I fail to see how that was funny?” Here he is, trying to be a good boyfriend, and compromise and all that, and Kaldur laughs at him? He’s kind of offended, for all that he’s kinda relieved Kaldur hasn’t taken him up on the offer. Yet.

“It’s… sweet of you?” Kaldur finally gets ahold of himself, a grin on his face. “But I have tried it before? It was not anything life changing.”

What. What.

Did he wake up in an alternate universe and he’s only just now noticing fifteen hours later?

“Kaldur? You told me that I was your first kiss?”

“Mm.” Kaldur settles down, head cushioned on one arm, and Roy turns on his side so he can see Kaldur without getting a crick in his neck. He knows his eyes are wide with disbelief. He doesn’t bother hiding it.

“Stars, Kal, you gotta tell me what happened.”

“Nothing that special?” Kaldur shrugs. “I was curious, and a, um, friend of mine from Shayeris was also curious. So we decided to sate that curiosity. But we did not kiss - that would have made it gay.”

“Excuse me?!” Kaldur’ahm of Shayeris and Atlantis did not just utter such words. Did he? Maybe Roy actually is in that alternate universe. Maybe this is a pod-person replacement of Kaldur. Roy pinches himself just to make sure he’s awake.

“I was fifteen and very certain that I only liked girls. I don’t defend the logic beyond that.”

“Wow. Wow.”

“So, when I say that it’s fine, it’s fine, okay Roy?”

That brings Roy back to the present instead of trying to picture fifteen year old Kaldur propositioning some guy for ‘totally not gay’ sex. “You’re certain?” He hates that he needs the reassurance.

“Very certain.” Kaldur leans forward and presses a soft, light kiss to Roy’s lips.

“At least that explains why you were laughing.” He’s not going to be sour about this. He’s especially not going to be weird and jealous over someone he’s never met touching Kaldur. “So, uh, you still talk to that guy or anything?”

Okay, maybe he’s going to be a little jealous.

“I do not.” Kaldur’s still grinning. Fingers trail up his jaw, curl around the back of his neck. Roy’s eyes flutter closed as Kaldur leans in and kisses him more thoroughly. “And I would not trade this, what I have with you, right here and now, for the world, Roy.”

“You really know how to make a guy feel special.” He has to clear his throat to keep his voice from being rough. His heart’s aflutter and it makes words he’s not certain of seem like a good idea. But he’s already risked enough tonight alone, and he buries his head against Kaldur’s shoulder to keep himself from saying anything rash. “Same here.” It’s all he can manage. It’s enough for now.

[tamisutcliffe-id]

Mom,

It has been very busy at my work lately, which is both good and bad. Helps the days go by quickly but also keeps me going for quite a few hours at a time. We have started using live video cameras for meetings now, so I have to make sure my hair is combed and the little cat is not eating bugs on the couch when I sign into calls. (Although everyone loves the little cat, she is kind of a distraction and will sometimes walk right up to the camera and yawn.)

I just loved that picture of you and the story about the lovely cruise makes it even better- a wonderful memory!

Sometimes I open up the family photo files that Dad sent me and just scroll through some of the old ones. I am so grateful to have had a Dad who enjoyed  capturing what he saw. So many of his shots are pure art, and I love seeing all of us at all of those other times in our lives.

Our cruise is September 17th to the 23rd. We'll be sailing on a Carnival ship we havent been on before (the Valour) out of Galveston, going to Cozumel and Progresso. This is kind of like you going to Lost River camping: you have been to this same place many, many times, it is not the most gorgeous of all the places you go but you like it, and you miss not going there, if you havent been in a while. So I am looking forward to being on the blue Caribbean sea again, even if the damn bag will be going with me. Some of my very favorite pictures of David have been taken in Cozumel:  

https://www.flickr.com/photos/93728166@N05/sets/72157632909525291

I go have the first test (of the required two) on August 29. I am scared about it, for no reason other than I just feel scared about it. They normally dont put you under to do this test, but the surgeon said given the extensive amount of damage done six months ago, he would be more comfortable doing the first exploration in there with me snoring rather than staring him in the face. I'll only be asleep for a half hour or so (with IV sedation, like they do for a normal colonoscopy) - and the test itself only takes about 20 minutes, and then I go home and should have no particular side effects at all. If this test goes well (and they find I am flexible inside where I should be flexible), I will need one more test (poetically known as a "leak test" -- ?!?! Oh, no!).  If that one comes out well, we schedule the reversal. We will be home from the cruise the last week of September, so we are very tentatively thinking, if everything goes smoothly, I will have the reversal done in early October. If for any reason either of the tests does not show what we hope for, then we just wait some more. Eventually, I WILL be flexible enough, according to everyone I have talked to. But no one ever knows just when that will be. So - 49 more days of the bag and then we shall see what we shall see.

My friend Kathy, who has been through quite a lot herself, sent me this picture recently, and I try to keep this in mind:

This is us a few summers ago: (Kathy runs barrels but Pam and I do not!!)

Keep sending the emails. I love it when I see your name in the "From" box! Do you have a camera? Have Jason email me pictures of you guys, if you think of it. I would love to see the yard and Loki and all the stuff going on in Idaho.

The Barbara Kingsolver quote was perfect.

Here is my poem of the week:

“So I am not a broken heart.

I am not the weight I lost or the miles I walked.

I am not this year and I am not anybodys fault.

I am muscles building cells, a little every day, because they broke that day,

but bones are stronger once they heal and I am smiling to the other drivers in the traffic jamand replacing my groceries once a weekand I am not sitting for hours in the shower anymore.

I am the way a life unfolds and blooms and seasons come and goand I am the way the spring always finds a way to turn even the coldest winter into a field of green and flowers and new life.”

― Charlotte Eriksson

Love,Tami

On Sun, Jul 8, 2018 at 10:28 PM, Rita Tolman <

rita@btolman.com

> wrote:

Tami Hope you enjoyed your fourth of July week.  Having the fourth in the middle of the week made it seem like a long holiday.  Brandi came by and spent a couple of hours today.  Mont and Cyn returning from Tamarack tomorrow.  Brandi will spend her month home working at Monts clinic.  She is having a hard time deciding where she wants to go when she finishes this next year.  At age 28 she is worried she will never find the one and be able to start a family.  No one in the family can relate as everyone seems to have found the one except Jason which makes me feel sad sometimes if I let myself think about it.  Sure hard to (live one day at a time) sometimes isn’t it.   Couple of comments on your last two emails.  Did you know the quote from Bill Wilson is the man who started Alcoholics Anon. clear back in the thirties?  Reading about his life you find that he was convinced he had some kind of a spiritual experience that caused him to get together with another drunk and have the first meeting of AA.  One drunk helping another to stay sober.  Pretty amazing. The picture of me by the palm tree in one of my favorite dresses of all time from Annie Z was taken by Dad in Miami just before we took our first cruise to the Bahamas.  One of the families Anon. members owned a travel agency in Miami and she was able to put together a cruise for a FA convention.  Dad and I had the honor of coming the farthest to attend.  Flying clear across the country from Seattle.  Jason was doing so well then and we had a great time and met some of the nicest people in the world.  We kept in touch with one couple from Michigan for several years and met up with them a couple of more times at FA conventions.  Their son finally got sober in his thirties, had a family and died in a car crash.  Go figure! When did you say your cruise was going to be in Sept?  Will you see the Doctor again before then?  Summer is slipping away so quickly. I’m hoping to drive to Pocatello in the next couple of weeks to try to plan an August camping trip.  Would love to go back to the Tetons but it is not Butch and Danas first choice.  They still love the lost river country but I will be happy to just get to somewhere more primitive than Tamarack.  Will have to do some home cooking if I can remember how as Butch looks forward to some grandma Spahr cooking.  I have been guilty of buying frozen microwave meals from costco all summer.  Have you got a membership yet.  Still hoping David will check out the hearing aid dept.  They also offer a big selection of wines at good prices.  Mont and I love their cocktail tray of Jumbo cocktail shrimp with fresh lemon and cocktail sauce.  Makes my mouth water just writing about them.  Fairly healthy ad not too many calories if you don’t eat the whole thing at once.  Will close with a quote from one of my favorite Authors Barbara Kingsolver on loss.  “You don’t think you’ll live past it and you don’t really.  The person you were is gone,but the half of you that’s still alive wakes up one day and takes over again.”   Have a good week and take care.  Love Mom

[the-right-to-write]

Thai Indeed Ethnography

Saturday, September 23, 2017

Thai Indeed is located in Scarborough, Ontario at 3081 Kingston Road. It is situated on a busy street, but it is slightly difficult to notice unless you are passing through there everyday. Some trees obscure it from view if you are driving East. There are few parking spaces, but the plaza is never too busy and people don’t stay long, so it’s not hard to get a spot. The quiet plaza has a seemingly abandoned appliance shop right next to Thai Indeed, a flower shop, a shop for home decor, two salons, a tattoo place, a wine store, a carpet store, a European bistro called Vi Pei, a Japanese restaurant called Sushi & Wok, and finally, a convenience store on the opposite corner.

We get out of the car at approximately 1:20 PM. A sign on the door informs us that Thai Indeed will be closed on Tuesdays and making slight adjustments to their hours, which we take note of. On our way in, a white, middle-aged man makes his way out, carrying a closed paper bag and a can of coke. I presumed that he had ordered for pick up, and my dad held the door for him as he left. The first thing I noticed upon entering was a chalkboard sign that had “We’re the Diamond Winner for Best Thai Restaurant” written on it, and while that’s something that creates a good impression, I must say that it’s quite difficult to search up what exactly the Diamond Winner or the Diamond Award is. And Thai Indeed is not the only one that has apparently won this award. Other Thai restaurants have won it as well.

We’re greeted by a Chinese woman, who allows us to choose a spot to sit. There are no customers, and every table is neat and tidy, although six more customers, all in parties of two, eventually filter in after us. The fact that it was a sweltering day may have been a factor for the low number of customers. The Chinese woman, who happens to be the lone waitress, hands us menus when we choose our seat, immediately grabs an extra set of cutlery/dishes (since there were only two sets in the spot we were sitting, and we needed three), then pours us each a glass of ice water. She’s courteous, but not overly friendly to us for the duration of our stay.

The ambience of the restaurant is relaxing and exotic. There’s mellow music playing softly in the background, but I can’t quite identify the language. It gets a little dark the farther you sit within the restaurant, but the large windows in the front of the restaurant, with brown bamboo blinds raised at the top, allow for lots of natural light to come in. At the back of the restaurant are a few stacked boxes and two high chairs and an elevated plastic seat for small children. The walls are white, and flat, mahogany brown chair rails line every one. The front desk matches the chair rails. Scattered across the walls are several minimalist paintings with vibrantly coloured lines, images of Thai food, and images of tropical place. There are also a few dark brown shadow boxes high on the walls that hold cans of various main Thai ingredients, such as coconut milk. The paintings vary from being black and silver to being a bright red and orange in colour. The ceiling is black, with several yellow pot lights embedded in the tiles. Like the ceiling, the floor is also black, made with 2 by 1 tiles with a white and grey linear design. Each table is made of fine, dark brown wood, and all the chairs are comfy black leather. The booths, located on the walls of the restaurant, have dark brown leather benches, and drop lights with vintage style elongated bulbs, giving off a more intimate lighting. The cutlery and dishware are all plain in design. Overall, the layout of Thai Indeed is very minimalistic and simple, but I feel that the dark tones and simplistic style complement the colourful and eye-catching dishes. I feel relaxed and ready to dig in.

Speaking of the dishes, we are quickly served Thai Iced Tea and a large bowl of Coconut Soup with chicken. The Thai Iced Tea is a bright salmon colour, and is sweet and extremely milk-heavy. It’s very good, though I wouldn’t advise anyone who is lactose intolerant to get it. I have a small aversion to milk, so I don’t end up finishing the drink. There are other juices, soft drinks, teas, and even bubble teas on the menu. The wide variety of choices when it comes to drinks pleases me and makes me want to try something else the next time I go here. The Coconut Soup is steaming hot and comforting. It includes coconut milk, pieces of chicken, some pieces of lemongrass, sliced mushrooms, and some kaffir leaves. It also has a slight spice to it, but definitely doesn’t make your tongue swell up or anything; it would be perfect to eat on a cold day or when you’re sick because it really clears the throat and has a very nice fragrance. As we’re eating the soup, several people come in for pick up. A majority of them are white, with maybe a Chinese man and two Hispanic ladies. It seems like ordering for pick up is more popular than dining in here. Nonetheless, the waitress is quick to get their orders. She seems to know what they’ve ordered immediately as they walk in, which makes you believe that they have a very organized system when it comes to dealing with pick ups. An uber driver even shows up to deliver, and the waitress immediately hands him the right bag. She thanks all of them, and wishes them a good day.

Next comes the Deep-Fried Calamari, which is a bit overpriced in my opinion, considering the batter tastes quite dry, especially compared to the later more delectable dishes. It’s possible that they are ordered frozen. However, the layout of the dish stays true to Thai standards. The calamari is neatly decorated with an orange slice on top of a piece of lettuce, a small cut of a stock of celery, and a few shredded carrots. It also comes with peanut sauce and a sour sauce most likely made with a bit of vinegar with cucumbers and chili in it. We finish it despite its dry, bland taste. The Thai Grilled Beef comes after it’s sweet and spicy, and, similar to the calamari, it has an orange slice, lettuce, celery stock and pickled carrots topped with black herbs. The meat is pleasantly easy to chew on and has a nice texture. I notice that the restaurant phone keeps ringing, and it automatically says the caller ID aloud, which is a little awkward and disrupts the atmosphere from time to time. Luckily, the waitress doesn’t keep it ringing for long.

Then comes Indeed Pad Thai with chicken and shrimp, in a large heap of noodles and ground peanut bits with a lime, an orange slice, and more peanuts on the side. It has a nice, smooth texture, and has no spice, instead having sourness as its main flavour. That’s when we all start to feel hot, most likely because we chose a seat by the window, and today was unusually hot for the season. There is no air conditioning or any fans, so my dad goes downstairs to the washroom to wash up a little.

Soon after comes my own order, the Garlic Sauce with Tilapia. It’s easily the most vibrant and busy dish, which I find impressive. The golden crispy fish is covered in green and red peppers, garlic slices, carrots, and, you guessed it: an orange slice on a piece of lettuce. I have to work a little bit to get to the fish since it’s hidden under everything, but the first bite has me feeling quite good about my decision - the crispiness of the fish blends exceptionally well with the creaminess of the sauce and is perfect with the dryness of the complementary rice (cutely served in the shape of a star on its own separate plate). Overall, while all the dishes looked pretty similar in aesthetics and decor, they did ultimately follow the “Thai aesthetic”, making everything neat, colorful and aromatic - the food is really eye-catching and elicits excitement. The flavours of each dish are differ from one another, creating the famous palate blending Thai food is known for.

As I reach my eating limit, I take a moment to observe the other patrons, two South Asian men, a white elderly couple, and two white women, all conversing casually and ordering beers and mostly small appetizers. For a moment, I feel like we’ve ordered too much, but I push that thought aside rather quickly. I also take notice of the kitchen, which can be partially seen from our table. From what I can see, there isn’t a door, it’s all made with stainless steel, and there are at least 2 chefs. You can still hear the food being made and the chefs conversing from time to time, but it’s not noisy enough for you to immediately notice it the second you walk into the restaurant. It balances out the tranquility of the front of the house. I notice that there aren’t too many choices for dessert, but I’m alright with that. We’re too full to order any desserts anyway, so we ask for two styrofoam boxes to take home our leftover fish and beef, making sure to eat the oranges and pack the lime. As we pay the bill, our waitress leaves us each a guava candy - it’s a Chinese brand, but it’s something that’s often handed out in Thai restaurants around Scarborough after meals. She thanks us for coming, says she hopes to see us again, and as soon as we leave the table, she immediately gets to work cleaning up after us. She is very hospitable and quick on her feet, which is something I’m sure everyone can appreciate in a waitress. We pull out of the humid, hot parking lot at approximately 2:30 PM. I’m surprised that we were only there for a little over an hour, but I think that was thanks to our waitress being so fast and on top of everything, as well as the small amount of customers.

(Posted 2017-09-29)