#somebody put them wings in the oven....

[cinamun]

Instant wood | Next

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

You've Got a Friend in Me

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 1, 528

Summary: you reveal to your best friend the identity of the man you’re dating

Warnings: lots of swearing, Dieter doing negative self-talk, talk of an abusive ex, but lots of adorable fluffy stuff

Check out masterlist here

Hey Nora, I know you’ve been asking for months now about the identity of my mystery man. I haven’t told you because I know you probably won’t have the most positive reaction. I am going to tell you his name but promise me you will think about it for at least 24 hours and not fly off the handle in a gut reaction.

Okay, the name of the man I’m dating is…

“DIETER BRAVO?!!!”

“I knew you were going to react badly.”

You had the volume of your laptop on low but still the voice of your best friend could be heard throughout your apartment.

“This is my calm mode actually. I was originally going to do the 14 hour flight up there so I can strangle the man myself but I promised I’d stew about it.”

“And?”

“I still want to strangle him but not as much as before.”

Nora was the first friend you had when you moved to New Zealand as a fresh faced just-out-of-high-school girl. She took you under her wing and taught you everything there is to know about special effects makeup. She would literally protect you from anything and anyone as she had that fiery Māori blood in her. She could scare off anyone with a look. She also had the same taste in movies as you, always watching them together and discussing the classics as well as the latest releases.

“Seriously Nora, there’s no need to strangle anyone.”

“Sorry, I love you like my sister so I’m going to worry about you.”

It was hard being so far away from your best friend and honorary sister. But you got a great job opportunity, and it was a way to get far away from a certain ex-somebody.

“If you’ve read any of the latest articles, you’ll know Dieter put that bad reputation behind him.”

“Yeah, Mei showed them to me. We kinda stalked him a bit. He hasn’t done anything bad to you behind doors has he?”

You shook your head.

“He’s not into weird kinky stuff in bed, is he?”

“Actually, we haven’t slept together yet. The most we’ve done is sleep in the same bed.”

“That’s all?”

“He’s happy to wait until I’m ready which…which is nice,” you smiled almost in relief, “And we kiss obviously. He still asks my permission.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet!” a cheerful face came on screen: Nora’s partner, Mei, “Hi sweetie!”

“Hi Mei.”

“Don’t worry, I made sure she didn’t do the crazy long flight. I hid her passport.”

“Seriously?” both you and Nora asked.

“I love you, but you get a bit hot headed sometimes,” she turned to you “So, dating a movie star? And such a handsome one too!”

“Is he?” asked Nora, “I don’t see the appeal.”

“You didn’t see him in The Hunger. I’d turn for that man.”

“You’re telling me this now?”

“I hear the oven dinging. See you sweetie!”

You waved at Mei as she made her escape from the screen.

“But seriously, tell me, is he treating you well?”

“Yes.”

“Any panic attacks?”

“Nope, I feel really safe with him.”

“I have noticed you’ve been really happy lately, something I haven’t seen in a while.”

“It’s nice,” she could see the genuine smile on your face, the sparkle in your eyes.

“I still want to talk to him though. Look him square in the eyes before I can give him my blessing.”

“Okay. Just don’t mention Cliff Beasts 6.”

“The first film was shit anyways.”

*****

You opened the door and Dieter greeted you with his signature hug.

“Can I?” and you nodded, giving him a kiss in response.

“Dieter? Dieter?” he hummed in response, still occupied with kissing you, “Remember how I said my friend Nora wanted to talk to you? Well..” you turned your head and gestured towards the coffee table.

“Holy fuck!” exclaimed Dieter as he was faced with the disapproving glare of your friends face staring at him from your laptop. He nervously sat down while you moved your laptop to its normal position in front of the couch.

“So, Dieter Bravo. Before I can give you my blessing to continue dating my honorary sister, I have a few questions for you.”

He gulped, obviously terrified, but nodded firmly.

“So, what’s your favourite scary movie?”

“Is this a horror film thing or an actual question?”

“Could be both.”

“Are you going to get a scary ghost mask thing out?”

You butt your head in, “No, you are not getting out the Ghost Face, or the Michael Myers. You promised no jump scares.”

“Fine, but you need to be out of the room. I can’t have you help him cheat.”

You sighed, “I’ll go pick up some dinner,” you gave Dieter a quick kiss on the cheek and left the apartment.

“She’s gone?” Dieter nodded, “That was just a ruse to get her out of the house, so we could talk man to man. To start with, I want to know your favourite film.”

“Does it have to be scary?”

“No, she told me you’re a big scaredy cat.”

“Oh, well, it’s Beauty and the Beast.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet, it’s my favourite too!” Mei once again popped her head in, “Oh, hi Mr. Bravo!” she waved and Dieter awkwardly waved back, “Can I just say I loved you in The Hunger? I’ve seen all your films and…”

“Do you mind?” asked Nora.

“Oh, sorry,” she gave another wave and popped off screen.

He was now asked a series of questions about you.

“Favourite colour?’

“Yellow. Along with other bright colours.”

“Favourite food?”

“Anything with cheese. She once made this three-cheese macaroni and cheese; it was so fucking good.”

“Favourite ice cream flavour?”

“Phish food or Strawberry cheesecake, depending on her mood.”

“Food she craves when she’s on her period?”

“Garlic. Which means she’s not a vampire.”

“You’re fine with periods?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“So, you’d go to the store to buy her pads?”

“Well, she started using these period pant things but if she wanted me to put them in the wash, I would.”

“Favourite film?”

“The Mummy. I swear she’s memorised the whole film. I think she’s going to get me to dress up as Brendan Fraser’s character.”

“Favourite movie monster?’

“Werewolf.”

“Favourite sub-genre of horror?”

“Comedies, especially ones that poke fun at tropes. Also, she loves well-made ones. You know it’s good when she talks about it for days.”

“Favourite guilty pleasure film?”

“That one with all the monsters, Hugh Jackman and a monk.”

“Actually he’s a friar. First film you two watched together?”

“Oh, it begins with an H. There was a doll house and a bunch of naked people.”

“Hereditary?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

Nora seemed shocked at this, “You watched that and still wanted to see her?”

“The bits that weren’t scary were really good. The rest of it scared the shit out of me. But then she asked me if I noticed certain things and she went over them with such enthusiasm it was adorable.” He was smiling at the memory of it which Nora noticed, and the mood turned almost sombre.

“Yeah, she gets like that. Did she tell you about her ex?”

“Not much, but I gathered he was an absolute dick.”

Nora sighed, “He was worse than that. He’s a self-centred narcissistic asshole.”

“She told me he didn’t like her watching horror films.”

“Not only that, but he also didn’t like her talking about them. He just found ways to control her, making her feel wrong about who she is.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her, she’s perfect.”

“She didn’t start having panic attacks until he came along.”

Dieter was now in shock, “What?”

“Yeah, don’t tell her, but I was the one who got her the job in LA. She needed to get as far away from that man as possible.”

“I’m glad you did. Not because it brought her here, but it means she’s safe.”

“So you love her?”

“Oh, so fucking much. She deserves to be with someone amazing, but she chose me for some reason, I think I’m just a fuck up.”

“Not from all the stuff she told me about you. She never told me anything bad about you.”

Before Dieter could question further, a knock from the front door was heard. You peak your head in, “Is it safe to come back in?”

Nora nodded and Dieter gestured for you to come back in. Shuffling over to see your friends face, you asked, “So how was it? You didn’t go all Jigsaw on him?”

“No,” she gave a reluctant sigh, “And he has my approval.”

“Really?” both you and Dieter exclaimed almost at the same time. Nora gave a firm nod which prompted you to hug your boyfriend.

“Seriously, you made him watch Hereditary as a first film?”

You shuffled over to face the screen while Dieter grabbed the food you left on the coffee table.

“Okay, I admit that probably wasn’t the best choice, but Ari Aster is so good with all the little details!”

Dieter now popped his head into the screen, “See what I’m talking about?”

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @brilliantopposite187

Films referenced: Scream (1996), Halloween (1978), Beauty and the Beast (1991), The Mummy (1999), Van Helsing (2004), Hereditary (2018), Saw (2004)

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian fic “Always and Forever” Chapter 3

Summary: After the death of their daughter Grace, Kurt and Sebastian drift apart. Kurt wraps himself up in his grief so tightly he starts to push Sebastian away, and Sebastian, feeling himself shoved aside when he needs Kurt most, cheats. They make the decision to start over, to leave New York City and their pain behind, and start over again in a house Upstate. Sebastian buys Kurt a "fixer upper" and gives him free reign. While redecorating the room that will be his studio, Kurt comes across something interesting underneath the wallpaper. It starts to become an obsession for Kurt - an obsession that begins to replace Kurt's love for his husband, which Sebastian is holding on to by a thread. Can Kurt and Sebastian break through the pain and the hurt and find a way to fall in love again?

Read on AO3.

Chapter 3 (4753 words)

Kurt stares out his studio window at the neighborhood below. It’s 10:15 a.m. and a Tuesday, so it isn’t as if the place is teeming with activity. Everyone living on Colony Lane seems content to stick to their own spaces, abide by their own schedules, and go about their lives without much interference from the world outside.

Kurt hates to hand it to Sebastian, but that’s what he wants as well. Isolation in a quaint fixer-upper is precisely what he needs.

Another point for Sebastian. 

Damn. 

He seems to be racking them up lately, while Kurt…

Kurt can admit that he’s not trying as hard as he should be, but he’s giving himself permission to be selfish. There shouldn’t be a timetable for bouncing back from loss, and Kurt got the double-whammy. 

Sebastian gave him betrayal to get over, too. 

Kurt knows that he should deem repairing his marriage a priority, but he also needs to do what’s right for him. 

He hasn’t figured out what that is yet, but it'll come to him.

Underlying childhood guilt has him believing that he should introduce himself to the neighbors. Etiquette and all that. It’s what his mother would do. Every time his family moved, and there had been a handful of times, Kurt’s mother would bake a batch of cookies for the neighbors. She'd put a baker's dozen into colorful cellophane bags, tie the tops with curled ribbon, and take them door to door to say hello. She wouldn’t wait for people to show up on their doorstep with a casserole and a smile. She believed in being proactive. She would tell him, “New neighborhood, new life. Go out and be a part of it.”

But Kurt doesn’t want to, and the neighbors seem fine with that. 

It’s been three days, and Kurt and Sebastian have only gotten one visitor – the technician who came to fix the heating. Of course, the neighbors could be waiting for them to get settled. Then they’ll pounce over with perfectly iced Gingerbread Bundt cakes and Chicken Kievs, church invites, and Girl Scout cookie order forms, like a swarm of Stepford Wives. 

Kurt doesn’t care about being proactive, and his mother isn’t around to scold him for behaving like a hermit. 

That may sound harsh, but it's true. 

The clouds pulling together in the sky overhead, threatening rain, give Kurt an excuse to shut himself away and work on the house - an excuse he can ply without the assistance of a tragic backstory. With his laptop open on the floor in front of him, he browses those websites that feed his design fetishes: Ethan Allen, Neiman Marcus, Anthropologie. 

But he's not the least bit inspired. 

He’d decided to start small, take things room by room instead of attacking everything at once. But he gets stumped, staring at the screen in front of him, unsure whether the chair he’s been mulling over for the past half hour is gorgeous or gaudy. 

He should focus on bringing the living room together since it’s where they do the bulk of their entertaining, provided they ever start entertaining again. And he should do something about the master bedroom, which, for the moment, houses a bed, a TV, and a dresser within the confines of four ashy walls. 

Opinions on the topic vary, but Kurt has always felt that the bedrooms are the heart of the home. They’re sanctuaries where dreaming, planning, and affirmation happen. He only has the one to worry about, so he should put extra effort into making it comforting, relaxing, sensual on the off chance he ever plans on touching his husband again.

The jury is still out on that one, unfortunately. 

The kitchen, he’s not looking forward to decorating. Aside from his studio, he and Grace spent much of their time together in the kitchen. They baked daily: cakes, cookies, bread, and anything else they could slop onto a baking sheet and shove into the oven. They also made jam, pickled fruit, and taught themselves (using YouTube videos mainly) to prepare various types of cuisine. Some were a hit, others a miss, but it was always an adventure. 

Kurt had done something similar with his mother and her collection of vintage cookbooks, congregating around the kitchen island in the afternoons to shed the angst of public school, and spread the wings of his stifled creativity. He and his mother discussed everything in the kitchen while sifting flour and creaming butter. It was a tradition he had so looked forward to continuing. 

Now, he’d rather not be bothered going into the kitchen again.

He could pick a page out of the IKEA catalog and recreate it. That should offend him. It did when Sebastian suggested it the first time Kurt redecorated their penthouse. But Kurt hardly cares. It doesn’t matter as much as it did. He can’t remember the last time he stepped into the kitchen and prepared anything more elaborate than toast and coffee, maybe dry scrambled eggs. Sebastian took over cooking duties after Grace died, which, nine times out of ten, means ordering out, if for no other reason than he gets to leave the house to pick up the food.

He knows Kurt appreciates the time alone more than he does a home-cooked meal.

Then there’s Sebastian’s office, which Kurt is decorating for the first time. He has tried to start a shopping cart for it numerous times, but, unlike the windfall of ideas he had for his studio, he can’t get into a groove. He remembers a time when thinking about decorating Sebastian’s office put a hundred ideas into his head. 

Currently, he has only one.

The cheap, vomit-worthy, knock-off furnishings of the no-tell hotel room he pictures whenever he thinks of Sebastian sleeping with another man. 

Kurt shivers in disgust. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy. 

The room or the infidelity.

But how would Sebastian react if Kurt decorated his office to look like the business suite at the Marriott?

Kurt snickers, envisioning the sitcom-worthy shock that would erupt on Sebastian's face if he presented that to him.

"As you can see," Kurt would say, strolling through the room with his head held high atop the straightest spine pettiness can deliver, "I have chosen the most flame-retardant carpet available in subtle hues of tan and beige, a color combination well suited for concealing cum stains. This ergonomic, curved leather loveseat, for when you want to get adventurous with your afternoon romps, which, at your age, requires plenty of lumbar support. Plus, it cleans up in a snap with just a Clorox wipe, so that's a useful feature. Faux fireplace, faux aquarium, faux chandelier... are we sensing a theme? And in the corner, I've provided you a foldout of your own, for when you bring... ahem... work home."

The grin on Kurt's lips slides when Sebastian, wearing a gutted expression, pops to mind. It's an expression that Kurt didn't believe possible for Sebastian till their daughter died. He's only seen it once. He doesn't want to bring it back.

He sighs. 

Revenge-dreaming isn't helping. 

It isn't as satisfying as he thought it would be.

He’s not breaking through his creative block anytime soon. He puts his plans for the other rooms on the back burner and decides to spend time picking out furniture for his studio. With the exception of his sewing machines, he didn’t bring anything from his penthouse studio here, so he’s starting over fresh. He switches tabs and starts filling his online shopping cart with the basics: a new drafting table, a cabinet, a chair he’ll have to custom-upholster, a bolt of drapery fabric he can repurpose to make a bedspread (if he goes through with his plans for a foldout), and a few other miscellaneous odds and ends, nothing worth wasting too much brain-power over.

The clunk-clunk of Sebastian stacking cans in the kitchen cabinets reaches Kurt upstairs, as does the water running in the sink while he washes dishes and the squeak of the sticky pantry door when he fixes it. Kurt plans on redoing the kitchen and giving the entire room a facelift. Sebastian knows that. But repairing the door gives Sebastian something to do.

Sebastian has been considerate enough to let Kurt do his thing undisturbed for the morning. Kurt’s reluctance to talk to anyone extends to Sebastian, which Sebastian understands. He’s keeping his distance. But it’s nice to hear him puttering around the house. It gives Kurt comfort, the same way listening to his father snore in the middle of the night helped Kurt feel less alone after his mother died.

He may want to be left alone, but it’s nice to know that he’s not alone.

Especially not today.

Today did not start out good for Kurt.

Kurt woke up later than he’d intended, and when he did, he couldn’t remember where he was. Sebastian had woken up and gotten out of bed hours earlier, leaving Kurt alone to sleep in. Kurt climbed out of bed and wandered around frightened, hands crawling along the walls, searching for something familiar. Footsteps passed somewhere underneath him, and he froze. He didn’t want to venture downstairs because he didn’t know who could be there. Maybe someone had broken in, or worse - this was somebody else’s house, and Kurt was the intruder. 

His heart raced. He started hyperventilating. He went from room to room, trying to figure out where he was and why he was there. It wasn’t until the second time he went into his studio that he began to remember. He saw his bag on the floor and, beside it, his sketchbook. He remembered sitting in there the day before, making plans. He remembered the wood grain of the floor, the dusty glass, the tree outside, the wallpaper, and that ripped corner by the window, which Kurt refuses to acknowledge any more than he has to.

He feels it behind him, like the sun on his back, trying to get him to turn his face to it, but he refuses. Of all the things he needs to deal with, that ripped corner and the word beneath it don’t make the list. It isn't doing the palpitations in his chest any favors.

It confuses him. 

It angers him. 

It saddens him.

It makes him consider what could have been, forces him to face everything he's lost. He didn't succeed in running away from his problems. He ran headlong into brand new ones.

But this is his house. He has to get used to it.

These episodes aren’t uncommon. They crop up whenever Kurt needs to adapt to change. They’re unexpected, like mines in fields he discovers he’s been running through when a second ago he was picking flowers in the park or strolling down the street.

It's their unpredictability that is the true torture. 

They show up even on his good days.

His life for the last ten years revolved around his daughter. When she was a baby, he adjusted his work schedule to match her sleep schedule. They had the money to afford the best nurses in New York, but Kurt didn’t want that. He didn’t want his daughter raised by a governess. He was as hands-on a parent as there ever was. 

As Grace grew, her schedule changed, and Kurt adjusted: daycare, Gymboree, kindergarten, ballet, elementary school. He dropped her off in the mornings, then picked her up in the afternoons. They spent the rest of the day going over her homework until it was time to make dinner, which they did together. 

That was the great thing about being a designer and freelance editor. Kurt could work from anywhere, and, aside from doing consultations at Vogue, he could work any time. 

When Grace became sick, her doctor visits and her medication regimen dictated Kurt's schedule, then her chemo.

Towards the end, there was only one item written in Kurt’s schedule - lie beside his daughter in her bed, holding on to her for dear life. 

And not just her life.

His, too.

In sickness and in health, Grace kept Kurt’s life regulated. 

Things flipped drastically when she died. 

He felt adrift. Detached from the life he had gotten used to, he didn’t know what to latch on to. His internal clock would wake him up at six to get Grace ready for the day, only to find himself walking into a vacant bedroom. At the supermarket, he would grab her favorite cereal out of habit and put it in his cart, even though it wasn’t on the list. He would jolt when he'd come across a song he thought she’d like or saw an advertisement for a movie he thought she’d enjoy. 

He has yet to stop the automatic deposits from his bank account to hers, her weekly allowance piling up on top of birthday and Christmas money. She had earmarked it for college (her decision, not his). Now it waits to be donated to the children’s hospital that took such incredible care of her. He doesn’t have the heart to empty it. She was so proud of it.

He doesn’t know what it will do to him to see the balance at zero.

But the worst moment of all, the absolute worst, was when he tried to go back to work right after they lost her. 

There are many moments after Grace’s death, during Kurt’s own struggle for acceptance, that blur together, but this one he remembers so vividly, it brings a lump to his throat and tears to his eyes. 

He was in the middle of a brainstorming session with his team. His boss Isabelle was there. She had dropped by with a box of cronuts and a grande nonfat mocha. Kurt hadn’t been eating. Everyone could tell. But Kurt overlooked the signs – the sharper than normal angle to his cheekbones and chin, his collarbone that showed through his skin a little too much, his hands that never stopped shaking. He had waved the food away when she offered. 

An hour later, he was on his third one.

The tension of his presence in the office so soon after his daughter’s death slowly dissipated, making way for the familiar, though attenuated, back and forth banter he had so missed. Without knowing it, he was paving the way for a potential comeback. He wouldn’t have a line up for a while, and he would need to keep an eye on fashion trends as they came and went in his absence. But this, this felt so natural, so normal, it almost seemed like it was. He got caught up in the rhythm of this impromptu jam session. He smiled, he laughed.

He felt alive again.

Somewhere in the middle of outlining a rough schedule, he glanced down at the time on his phone. Mid-sentence, he got up from his chair and walked over to get his coat off the hook by the door.

“Alright,” he said with a chuckle over Chase’s last clap back at a jab from his boyfriend Ian, “thanks for everything, you guys, but I’ve gotta run. We’ll talk about this more when I come in tomorrow.”

The room went pin-drop silent. Kurt didn’t notice.

“Where are you going?” Isabelle asked, getting up from her seat on the corner of his desk and approaching, knowing that he would need her in a second, the way she always knew. Kurt has referred to Isabelle as his Fairy Godmother ever since he first walked into Vogue fresh out of high school and trying to find a foothold in the hectic Gulf Stream that is New York City. She became his pillar of support, a sympathetic ear, and a clear head whenever he needed one. She had thrown his bachelor party. Hers was the condo he stayed in the night before his wedding. She’d hosted Grace’s baby shower.

Also, Grace’s wake.

She didn’t have children of her own and didn't plan on it, but she loved Grace as much as anyone.

And hers was the shoulder Kurt cried on when he found out Sebastian had cheated. 

Kurt looked at her, confused, wondering why it was that everyone around him seemed to be holding their breath. “I just… have to go pick up Grace. From school. I’m going… I’m going to be late.”

Isabelle shook her head and put a hand on his. “Sweetie… ”

It took Kurt a second. 

Even after one person gasped and another sniffled, with Isabelle’s sorrowful eyes staring at him, begging him to remember so she wouldn’t have to say it, he didn’t catch on.

When he did, it hit him like an electric shock straight through his body, rendering his muscles useless, and he crumbled to the floor. Isabelle held him for over an hour in that spot until Sebastian arrived. Kurt didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to go to their empty penthouse and face the truth about his empty life. He wanted to stay at Vogue with Isabelle and live in that moment where everything was alright again for one shimmering second, even if it wasn’t real.

But he had to go. He had to leave with Sebastian, who had hurt him, back to his home, even if it killed him because even though he felt like his life was over, everything else continued on. People lived, and people died. The sun set in the evening, but in the morning, it would rise again.

He just didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. 

Not without his Grace.

He was cried out by the time Sebastian got him home. Sebastian undressed him, helped him with his cleaning and moisturizing routine, and then put him to bed. It was Friday evening when Kurt shut his eyes and went to sleep. He lived that horrible moment at his office over again a hundred times before he opened his eyes. And when he did, it was Sunday morning.

Like this morning, but to a greater extent, when these attacks happen, locked in his own brain, sifting through the pieces to find one big enough and sturdy enough to hold on to, Kurt loses time.

In a blink, hours go by, sometimes a day. He’ll climb in the shower in the morning, turn the water on hot, and by the time he realizes it’s cold, it’s close to noon. He has sat at the dining room table for breakfast, staring at a bowl of oatmeal, and when he found the will to pick up the spoon, the oatmeal was old and stiff, and it was dinner time. He’s gone to bed on Monday and stared at the black behind his eyelids till Wednesday. 

As far as Kurt knows, it’s only around lunchtime, but he glances at the clock in the corner of his screen to make sure. 

12:45.

He breathes a sigh of relief. He double-checks the date to make sure he has a reason to and sighs again.

Still Tuesday.

Kurt switches back to the IKEA tab he’d been laboring long but not hard on earlier. He looks at the shopping cart he’s been steadily filling, scrolls through his selections of personality bereft, assembly line furniture, and groans. This isn’t him. This house, this blank slate, should be an endless fount of motivation. 

But he's numb. 

Maybe he's rushing into this. He should give this house and the neighborhood time to grow on him before he sentences it to the mundane.

He needs a break. (Kurt Hummel need a break from shopping? Since when?) He flips to a new page in his sketchbook. For shits and giggles, he tries drawing a sketch for his husband’s office. He starts with the easy part – Sebastian’s desk. Sebastian didn’t leave that in the penthouse, so Kurt will make it the linchpin and design around it.

Things flow surprisingly easily from there once he gets started, with a pencil in his hand writing on paper instead of working on a screen: an ornamental rug, a matching leather chair, burgundy velvet curtains, a chainmail style Tiffany desk lamp, 1930s art deco décor with a soupcon of Persian flair. But he doesn’t want the room to be too dark. No. Kurt wants nothing in their house to be dark. He adds a Salento chandelier over the open portion of the room and a sweep of color – one wall, opposite a window, a lighter shade than the rest. He doesn’t know what Sebastian’s office looks like, but there has to be a wall in there that will fit the bill. 

An enamel and copper vase, a Khatam inlaid photo frame, a few Negar Gari…

Kurt stops.

Would Sebastian want that? The softer elements countering the strict lines of the art deco pieces, what could be described as feminine influences, are Kurt’s signature touch. But might Sebastian prefer the art deco without Kurt’s fingerprints all over it? Isn’t that what Sebastian meant by Kurt being heavy-handed with the pastels? 

Back in high school, Kurt had decorated his bedroom so that he and his stepbrother could share it. He'd skipped school so he could complete it in one day. He’d worked hard on it, trying to fuse a masculine air with his theatrical influence. What he thought was an eclectic representation of the masculine and the feminine turned into a Moroccan-themed disaster.

The word his stepbrother chose to use at the time was faggy, but there were ulterior motives behind it.

Sebastian made jabs in high school about Kurt not wearing boy clothes, comments that adult Kurt recognizes as the teenage boy equivalent of pulling Kurt’s pigtails. But at the time, they stung. Sebastian wouldn’t have made those comments if there weren’t a grain of truth to them, would he? 

Sebastian has never retracted those statements, so as far as Kurt is concerned, they stand.

Kurt flips his pencil over and starts erasing. He’ll pare down the extras – trade the Tiffany lamp for a banker’s lamp, replace the rug with something more Brooks Brothers than Pier 1.

Maybe he should just opt for another IKEA recreation, but that feels like copping out, going back on his word. 

He could always ask Sebastian. He swears his husband has passed by a few times, his footsteps rising and falling outside his door, but Kurt didn’t think anything of it. He figures Sebastian is passing through on his way to get something from the bedroom that he needs downstairs. Kurt doesn’t imagine the man is pacing the hallway, even if he is, trying to find a way to tell Kurt that lunch is ready. Little things like lunch, innocuous things, have become huge divides over the past few months. With anyone else, Sebastian has a history of railroading over them, hurt feelings be damned.

But Sebastian has learned his lesson. He paid a hefty price learning it, too.

Contemplating between clearing his throat so that Kurt knows he’s there and letting another meal go cold, he sees Kurt’s head lift up. It seems like an opening. Whether or not it is, Sebastian takes it.

“Lunch is ready.”

“Mm-hmm,” Kurt mumbles, brushing eraser shavings aside.

“Are you… are you coming downstairs?”

Kurt erases again, then pencils something on a sheet of paper that Sebastian can’t see. “Hmm… mmm?” 

It sounds like a question and an answer, but since Kurt doesn’t follow it up with anything, it most likely means that Kurt will be skipping lunch… again. Sebastian knocks idly on the door frame, giving Kurt a second longer to tell him for sure.

“Alright.” Disappointed, he turns to leave. “I guess I’ll come back up at dinner then.”

Kurt doesn’t know why the thought returns when he wasn’t even thinking about it, why it decided to nag at his brain when he had been able to ignore it for this long, but that’s the way his brain works now. His thoughts don’t always travel straight paths. They twist and turn, taking one thing and linking it to something unrelated. Erasing the ideas he’d sketched out, removing every inch of himself from Sebastian’s office, made him think about how eager he was to be rid of that word darling from above the window, and that ripped corner returns to his mind with a vengeance.

Well, as long as Sebastian is there, he might as well ask.

“Sebastian?”

Sebastian pauses in the doorway, not daring to move. “Yes?” 

“When was the last time you were here?” Kurt raised an eyebrow at the idea when it originally came to him. When would Sebastian have come to this house that Kurt didn’t know? They traveled Upstate once a year, but they always did it together as a family. And while they were here, Sebastian rarely ventured out alone. Sebastian isn’t the kind of person who would buy a house sight unseen. 

Unless he had found it during one of his outings with Grace. Which would mean that Grace had seen the inside. 

Grace would have seen this room and thought it would be hers, thought that they would someday live here, and Sebastian hid that word darling by the window for her and not Kurt.

The thought is so painful, it makes Kurt want to tear his nails out with his teeth so he’ll stop thinking about it.

Sebastian keeps his eyes locked to Kurt’s profile so he won’t miss the moment Kurt decides to look at him instead of the floor, the wall, or the ceiling.

“I found this house online. It wasn’t even on the market when I stumbled on it. To be honest, I’d only driven by it once. I hadn’t been inside until we moved in.”

“But you saw the inside,” Kurt asks. “Otherwise, how would you know about this room?”

“I took a virtual tour,” Sebastian admits sheepishly, “but it was extremely thorough. I’ve seen the blueprints, gone over the permits and the zoning. I had Tristan from the office look over the place when he came up to visit his folks. He facetimed me while he was here.” Sebastian furrows his brow. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Kurt’s heart beats regular again. Grace hadn’t seen it. 

Thank God. 

His eyes find the torn section of wallpaper, but they don’t stay there. He doesn’t want to clue Sebastian in about it if Sebastian doesn’t already know. He wants to uncover this mystery on his own. If Sebastian gets to keep secrets, big ones at that, then Kurt wants this one for himself. 

“No, no. Nothing’s wrong. I was just curious, you know. Wanted to understand your process. Why this house, why this neighborhood, that sort of thing.”

Kurt’s sentence comes out choppy. It’s odd how awkward talking has become for them. Sebastian used to think that the two things they had mastered were talking and fucking. They did both together with such ease. There were never any boundaries between them, emotionally or physically. Even when they were cutting each other down, which they did in the beginning, they did so with such finesse.

Not like now, when Sebastian is walking on eggshells and Kurt doesn’t want to hear half of what he has to say.

“If you come down for lunch, we can talk about my process. If you’re curious, that is.” Sebastian watches Kurt expectantly, waiting for an answer. 

And while Sebastian does, Kurt looks at his sketch – Sebastian’s office, the same way Sebastian always has it decorated. This is Sebastian without him and Grace: bland and emotionless, no light, little color, and no joy. Nothing exciting, nothing nuanced, nothing to indicate that he and Sebastian are together.

Not even those snapshots he’s so proud of.

Kurt hasn’t decided whether that’s a bleak picture or not. 

“Sure. I’ll be down in a sec,” Kurt decides because he does and doesn’t have an answer to that one. It changes as the day changes, and the days change too quickly. 

“Alright. I’ll be waiting.” Sebastian walks away, or Kurt thinks he does. He checks the time on his clock. It’s closing in on 2. 

Kurt glances up at the window, the dangling wallpaper bouncing with the breeze coming from a draft near the ceiling. It would be so easy to tear it down – grab an edge and rip, be done with it once and for all. It might even feel cathartic, exposing whatever is underneath it. But lunch is ready. He’s already left Sebastian waiting long enough.

He leaves that mystery for another day.

[pettyprocrastination]

Dinner for Three

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Valerie Lord x Black!Fem!Reader

OneShot: This is just a non-canon fic! This is basically placed AFTER the timelines of this fic, just a fun little side ficlet surrounding you and the lords after yall get together in celebration of Valentines day!

*If you want to read the rest of the fic so far here's a link to my masterlist where you can find Rip Out Our Seams & Stitch Us Together*

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: profanity, some groping going on and kissing. That's about it! Fluff and talking of self-worth.

Summary: It's Valentine's Day, you decide to treat Valerie to a nice homecooked dinner, Maxwell joins you when he returns home from work.

If the formatting is fucked im sorry tumblr fucked this like three times today im just trying to get it POSTED for you all.

Tag List: @captainsamwlsn @themarcusmoreno @cinewhore @thesadvampire @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @holographic-carmen @honestlystop @thecrimsonsquire @phoenixhalliwell @that-chick212 @phantomnae @goldafterglow

If I forgot to tag you I'm so sorry please let me know!

Notes: BIG thank you to @ficsilike-reblogged who bought me a kofi! I know i was meant to do asomething shorter but i couldn't help myself! Also my usual big thanks for the ever lovely @teaofpeach for editing for me you are an absolute treat my dear ily <3

(i coudn't find any good lasagna gifs the TRAGEDY)

“What in God’s name are you wearing?”

You turned around at the shocked voice to see Valerie standing in the kitchen doorway, red painted lips dropped open.

You grinned and planted your hands on your hips with pride. “My Valentine’s Day outfit! You don’t like it?”

Her face fell flat as she looked you up and down; the main culprit of her disdain was the shirt you wore, buttoned neatly and covered in hearts. “Hon, you look like a cartoon character.”

You wiggled your brows. “A sexy cartoon character?”

“Remind me again why I love you?”

Hearing the word ‘love’ from Valerie Lord would never not send your heart into a frenzy. It had been months since the gala, since they had told you about their feelings with courage brought on my champagne and their own confessions to one another.

They finally had each other, why couldn't they have you as well?

Of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t a… learning curve. When it came to the relationship, Valerie was bad at sharing her feelings. Sure, she’d say when she didn’t like somebody, or when she thought certain food tasted bad or when Maxwell’s new cologne smelled like rat shit. But she wouldn’t tell you when she was sad, insecure or felt like she wasn’t enough for the both of you.

Maxwell was too concerned with the outer view of the relationship, as he had been with Valerie since they got married. It was suspicious of course, for him to be seen leaving with a “mystery woman” without his wife around, so he took certain precautions. When out and about, he would take too much time fretting over the cameras and questions than you.

These precautions nearly cost them your relationship, their sweet girl who brought them together and showed them love and care and made them realize while they couldn't live without each other, they couldn’t live without you as well.

But now, they knew this. That you weren’t a fling who could be replaced. Your nimble fingers had stitched their beating hearts back together with a golden thread they wouldn’t dare untie from your own.

You turned away from the heiress and back to the stove as you stirred the red sauce in front of you.

“As abhorrent as that shirt is-” Her voice purred in your ear as her arms slid around your waist and pulled your back flush against her- “I love you in those jeans.”

You chuckled and kept your eyes on the task at hand as you slowly stirred. “As much of a compliment that is, Mrs. Lord, why don’t you keep those hands to yourself until I put this on the stove, alright?”

She hummed, contemplative before pressing her lips to the crook of your neck. “So mean to me baby.”

Her hands toyed with your belt loop, a painted nail hooking your shirt and slowly sliding it out from where it was tucked.

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Valerie.”

“What? Can’t I show my pretty baby some love on Valentines day?”

“Not while I’m cooking on a hot stove, little-miss-gropey.” A quick slap to her wrist with the wooden spoon made her yelp and yank her hands away from you.

“Bitch!”

You turned and pursed your lips. “Aww, poor baby, want me to kiss it better?”

She grumbled under her breath, taking in the splattered food on her wrist from the spoon before swiping her finger through it and bringing it to her mouth.

“Maybe you can kiss my ass instea- Oh, damn that’s good.”

Her eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of such a high and mighty woman licking the back of her hand.

“Is that-”

“Basil?” She hummed at the taste. “I’m glad you enjoy it. It’s my father’s recipe.”

Valerie watched you as you cooked. Methodically adding each ingredient while humming along to the radio and swaying from side to side. 

“You don’t talk about him much.”

Valerie knew you were different than her and Maxwell. Your childhood wasn’t full of flashing cameras, propping questions, and hiding tears behind fake smiles to reporters. When your father was brought up in conversation, you didn’t bristle or change the subject. You would smile. 

She wasn’t jealous of that joy. That love you had from your family. She’s grateful for it, that amongst the struggles you had, there was also support and happiness. 

“He doesn’t come up in conversation often.” Valerie’s hands once more wrapped around your waist, but simply settled at your hips. Her body was flush with your own and she let her head rest on your shoulder, gently swaying with you as you continued to cook. 

“Tell me about him.”

She saw the small smile that graced your lips, mourning and grateful all at once as you spoke of him. 

“He used to say that as people, we’re a collection of those around us. The ones we’ve loved. All their little mannerisms and tics become a part of who we are. And that we do the same for other people who love us.” 

As you slowly set the pasta onto the bottom of the pan and began to layer the sauce, she wondered who you were an amalgamation of. Was the way you tilted your head back as you laughed from an old flame? 

Was the way you sang and shook your hips from a best friend when you were young, who you wished had been more?

Were the soft kisses you press to the tip of their noses something given to you? Or an act of love learned by watching your parents?

Did you have anything of hers? Of Max’s? 

Did they have anything of yours? 

“I see it in you and Max, yanno.” You stepped back to open the oven and settle the pan on the top rack before shutting it. “You both do a lil’ nose scrunch when you get angry.”

“What?” She drew back from your body, unintentionally wrinkling her nose in the process. “We do not.”

You pulled her close to your body again. Your arms settled around her waist as you slowly moved side to side. You hummed along to the smooth voice of Grover Washington Jr. that danced from the radio and filled the large kitchen, empty except for the two of you. 

“Sure do. You're also both very boujee-”

“Hey.”

“A touch temperamental-”

“I’ll give you that one but-"

“As well as emotionally constipated-”

“Excuse me?”

“And yet-” You hummed, letting your head drop forward to rest against hers, nose bumping against hers in a gentle caress- “I can’t help but love you both every damn day.”

Her blue eyes widened, before she groaned and shoved her face into your shirt. 

“You fucking sap.” She lifted her head to yours and kissed you. The melody curled around you as she wrapped her arms around your neck and tugged you flush against her. A soft moan broke from her lips as you ran your hands over the plush skin of her ass. 

You pulled away long enough to press a kiss to the tip of her nose, giggling when her face scrunched up in response. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Val."

Valerie Lord never thought she’d have this. This love and security. The ability to smile and kiss and dance on a Sunday night in the arms of a lover. She didn’t think she’d ever have a day where she felt love, a love she wasn’t afraid to admit. 

Especially to two people. 

The pair of you danced in silence, listening to the lyrics that serenaded the way you spun her and the laugh that bubbled up her chest her perfect, pinned, blonde curls came loose. 

And darling when the morning comes

And I see the morning sun

I wanna be the one with you.

When Maxwell came home, he noticed how quiet the house was. No chatter or footsteps along the hardwood floors. He knew what day it was, of course he did. He wasn’t an idiot. Valentine’s Day wasn’t a special day with the Lords. It never had been. 

But of course, that was before they met you.

Maxwell never saw that love with his parents. His mother was cold and cruel, and while his father was a good man, he knew he didn’t love her. He didn’t blame him for it. But now he felt it. The way his heart would hammer against his ribs so hard he wondered if you could hear him. The way all his stress and anger would melt away the moment Valerie’s hands held his face in a grasp like that used to carry a bird with a broken wing. 

He didn’t think it was possible to love. To desire and need somebody as much as he did you two. Now he did, and he wouldn’t go back to a life without it for all the money and power in the world. 

The sound of smooth sax caught his attention. Slowly, he set down his briefcase and followed the music until he found himself in front of the kitchen. 

This. Maxwell thought as he watched the two of you, your eyes shut as you held one another in a close embrace as swayed. This is why he did it all. 

The long hours, the greuling work and idiotic employees. If he could come home to this everyday, it’d all be worth it. 

He leaned against the doorway, watching you two until your own eyes opened and met his. 

“Happy to finally have you with us monopoly-man.”

He snorted at your lovingly crude nickname. “It was a long day at work.” Gone was the fake ‘apple-pie-and-picket-fence’ accent he forced himself to use at work when he spoke and you loved it. To see the real Maxwell was a privilege, one you would never take for granted. 

��Every day at work is a long day for you.”

Before he could retort, his wife unwrapped her arms from you and walked over to her husband. Valerie cupped his face in her hand and led him to her lips with a soft moan. Maxwell melted into the kiss with ease, all thoughts of work and conference calls vanished into thin air as his wife’s fingers carded through his hair. She pulled away with a wet pop and ran a thumb over the smudged lipstick on his face. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

Maxwell let his hand run over her bottom lip with a lazy smile. She was magnificent like this. Not preened or pinned or posed. She was messy and unkempt and happy. She never looked more breathtaking than in those moments. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey.”

Her eyes flicked over his crisp suit and her sweet smile was replaced with a groan. 

“Son of a bitch you fuckers are matching!”

You shrieked with laughter while Valerie pointed an accusatory finger at the heart-covered tie that lay on her husband’s chest. 

“You tacky traitor!”

You leaned over and pressed your lips to his cheek, his hand coming to rest at the small of your back. 

“Aw don’t worry, Max. She’s just jealous she isn't matching with us.”

Valerie reared back. “I’ll be caught dead before I ever-”

“Alastair sent them to us.”

A moment of silence passed before she spoke again, more offended than annoyed. 

“And he didn’t send one for me?”

Maxwell smirked at his wife, fishing out a small white box and presenting it to her. 

“Our son knows his mother wouldn’t be caught dead in anything with gaudy patterns.” He opened the box and she took in the red heart earrings with a smile. 

Which was ultimately ruined by you. 

“Aw, he boujee just like his mama!”

Before either one could snap back at you, a small ding sounded through the kitchen and you moved quickly over to the oven. 

“You know-” Maxwell spoke as he put the earrings on his wife with gentle hands- “We have a chef for a reason.”

You brought out the pan and set it onto the stove, taking in the savory smell with a proud smile. 

“Well, fine then. Go get your cook to make you dinner if you want to complain.”

“Wait. Wait, no that not- that’s not what I meant- I’m starving, please.”

Valerie moved around her husband, taking a bottle of red wine and bumping his hip with hers. “Just set the table Maxwell, we both know how you can make it up to her later. It’s a special day after it all.”

Her husband loosened his tie and grinned at you in a way that made you think he wanted to eat you for dinner instead of the meal you prepared. 

“Lovely idea, darling.”

[fabricated-misslieness]

Thanks for answering my previous request! Can you do some fluff domestic headcanon for reaper , mccree , genji and soldier 76? also you dont have to but if you want you can add that reader is a childfree? (and im really enjoying your blog 👍)

Genji, McCree, Reaper, and Soldier x gender neutral reader

Thank you for fulfilling my Overwatch craving~

Unlike the other fandoms, I tend to crave Overwatch most for the least amount of time but also most often.

Set post-Overwatch Disbandment, pre-Overwatch Recall.

Requested: Yes

Genji Shimada | Grocery Shopping

(So in terms of the fandom, they’re divided between whether Genji can still taste or not. I’m going with no taste, so thanks to this Great Big Story video)

Grocery shopping with Genji was a mundane task. It was part of the weekly chores ever since you moved in together.

“(y/n), no.” He slapped your hand away as you reached out for a falsely advertised snack.

The good thing about it was that Genji grounded you into reality, thanks to his lack of taste buds. He reminds you not to fall for advertisements and actually pick out vegetables instead of plain avoiding them. Sometimes he called you a child because of your dislike of vegetables.

He’s one to talk, though. He doesn’t like doing chores, even if they’d been integrated into his daily life. He nagged about them sometimes.

“Aww, man. Fine.” You’d pout at him, but he’d grown desensitised by that look by now.

Though, he wasn’t used to doing chores at all, being part of a rich crime family, a crime-fighting organization and all that. Then again, that was no excuse, seeing as they’d been living together for quite a while now.

Anyway, even if he helped you stay on track, he himself would stray off as well. Usually you’d lose him for a few minutes, which gives you the opportunity to sneak in some interestingly advertised items, and return with a couple of containers with new spices or some that you were running low off. 

Spices were the only things that Genji could taste now, since you didn’t need taste buds to ‘taste’ them. It’s a little weird at the start to see him eat cereal drowned with stuff like amchur powder or sumac but eventually, you grew accustomed to it.

“Ey, ey, ey, back on track, Genji.” Luckily you’d caught him by the back of the hoodie just in time when his eye caught onto a spice he wanted to try.

Genji rolled his eyes under the mask, but he knew he shouldn’t go off wasting your guys’ money.

Thankfully it was only you two living together, so you didn’t have to buy as much to feed like, a family or something. Kids weren’t really your thing, and neither were they his. Sure they’re… adorable, but that’d seem troublesome. Far too troublesome for any of your childish asses.

If you asked Genji to go grocery shopping or even just go into the Overwatch common area kitchen 6 years ago, he would 100% say no. He was jealous of others, they could eat anything and they could savour them, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t get all that jealous, he’d just be disappointed.

However, he’s grown used to it now. He only just found out about spices the first time you went grocery shopping together.

You made him hold onto the cart with you for good measure, although he was sure to sneak off somewhere else while you weren’t looking. Which he did only a few minutes later.

You wondered if he was a leach kid, then remembered they probably didn’t have those in japan.

When he came back, he luckily only had three containers in hand.

You eyed him up with an accusatory look, you could sense his pout even when you couldn’t see it. “Sorry.” Genji sheepishly said, though he always said that and still continued to do it consistently every trip.

You huffed with feigned anger. You weren’t angry at all, but it was funny to see him shy like that.

“Alright, I’ll strike you a deal.” The feigned anger went away, your cheeky smile took its place. 

Genji perked up, he knew what was happening but he played along. “Mhm?”

”Hold my hand and I won’t be angry.”

Genji pretended to think for a while, nodding after a too small amount of time. “Deal.” He took your hand, intertwining your fingers together.

“Now, stick with me.”

 

Jesse McCree | Laundry

Ever since he came back to his old sweetheart’s farm, he’d been living there with them. He called it his base of operations, but really, it was his home.

He was sad to know that his old folk had passed away while he was gone, but he was glad that you were still there and you hadn’t stopped loving him, even when he’d left with Ashe.

Ever since he came back, you’d lived together.

You had your parents’ farm to uphold, with your old folk still working there too. They welcomed him with open arms and invited him to stay.

Your old folk couldn’t work much though. Both of them still had the determination in them to work but their old bodies forbid them from doing more than 3 hours under the harsh sun. They were happy to have more helping hands.

His ‘base of operations’ needed to be maintained, which prevented him from going out bounty hunting much, but he was fond of domestic life.

Ever since you two were children he wanted a domestic life with you and then Ashe came and swept away his dreams, turning them into other ones.

Since he was still getting used to farm life again, he was given much lighter tasks. Tasks that would be in any other household, specifically households from outside New Mexico. He had to get used to the harsh sun again.

You were resting against the railing of the back porch, admiring the farm as best you could with the sun shining in your eyes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Jesse hanging up the laundry.

Other places outside of your farm area probably had those fancy laundry machines, but you didn’t. The sun was harsh but it was good for drying your clothes along with herbs.

It looks like he had a lot of clothes left to go.

Should you go help? Your tasks for the afternoon were done, then again you had a lot more to do in a few hours.

Eh, why not? This was the love of your life that you were helping.

“Hey, love.”

He perked up to look at you, still putting up a shirt. “Well hey, darling.”

“Need any help?” You didn’t wait for a response, grabbing a pair of clothespins and a shirt.

“Much appreciated.” Jesse pressed a kiss against your cheek as thanks, going back to his work. You initiated chit chat as you hung up the clothes, giving each other cheek kisses sometimes.

Jesse loved these moments, where he could just be with you in your farm, the farm that he’d visited various times in his childhood, the farm you’ve spent your entire life in. He loved hearing you talk and just, you in general.

Talking with your folk was a hassle, inevitably, in every conversation, they would bring up the ‘children’ talk.

They wanted children to continue in your family legacy, non-blood related or not. They were afraid the farm that had been passed on generation to generation would be surrendered to somebody none of you even knew, just like what happened with Jesse’s family farm.

With no children to inherit the farm and no relatives willing to take it up, it was sold. The new owners weren’t exactly careless with it, but they were adamant on keeping it even with Jesse’s arrival.

Your old folk weren’t comfortable with some stranger in their farm.

The thing was, you didn’t want children, the two of you were already thirty. Jesse was fine with that, but your folk weren’t. Sometimes arguments about children with them reduced you to tears and sobs, but Jesse was always there to comfort you afterwards.

More often than not at dinner you’d be arguing, so he cherished the moments where you seemed to be happy.

“Something on your mind, Jesse?”

You startled him out of his thoughts. “No, it’s just.. I love you.”

You were taken aback from the statement. You knew you loved each other, it wasn’t the first time you’d said it since he came back but you didn’t expect him to say it out of nowhere.

“I love you too.” A fond smile graced your lips, which made you irresistible to kiss for him.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a soft and short kiss.

“You sure something ain’t botherin’ you?” You laughed after pulling away.

“Never been better, darlin’.”

 

Gabriel Reyes | Cooking

Cooking dinner was one of the only things you’d be able to do together. He was always at work, sometimes until the next morning, so it was something you yearned for while he was gone.

Gabriel was a good cook under good instructions. Alone, there was a chance he could burn something but 9/10 times it was fine. Most of the time he’d cook for you as consolation for being gone, but he’d already done that yesterday so you offered to help.

He accepted the offer with a smile, pressing a light kiss to your temple.

Since today he wanted to cook for you, he decided to do the main stuff and have you as his little helper.

Granted, you were a perfectly good cook, but today was consolation.

Every time he asked for a spice, as you reached over to hand it to him, he’d share a short kiss and turn back to the cooking.

It reminded you of those athletic couples that would spot each other while doing sit ups and kiss every time the one on their back got to the top. It was cheesy, mostly cringy, but doing something like it actually felt really sweet.

“Chili powder?” Hands reaching out, a small kiss, back to cooking. It was cute.

Finally, the only thing you had two do was wait. You were having his famous enchiladas tonight, so they were in the oven baking. Usually he would wing the time, which meant checking every few minutes.

According to him, “It is ready when the edges are crispy.”

You trapped him against the counter while you kissed. It was nothing lustful, just sweet kisses. He wouldn’t let you kiss him for more than five minutes, though, since you had to check the oven… party pooper.

“(y/n).” He pulled back, not letting you kiss him again. “Enchiladas.”

You sighed, going to check on it again. All you wanted was his kisses, then again you were hungry too. How did he even know that five minutes had passed every time?

“Still need to cook for longer.” You said, standing back up. He raised an eyebrow at you, giving you a look that basically said, ‘Don’t be lying to me just for more kisses.’

“I promise.” You huffed out a laugh, trapping him against the counter and your lips again.

Gabriel tended to cook more than you two could eat, even when there were only two mouths to feed. Neither of you wanted children, both of you being well over the recommended age for that.

Another five minutes passed and he pulled back again, but this time you went back in.

“(y/n).” He protested between kisses. “You don’t want our--” The next kiss lasted for longer, yet Gabriel wouldn’t pull back. When you pulled back for air, he frowned at you.

You didn’t let it phase you, though. Your cheeky smile got him to smile back. He shook his head at you, pushing you back lightly. “Go check.”

You followed his order, checking the oven.

“They’re not ready.”

“(y/n)...”

“Okay, they’re ready.”

 

Jack Morrison | Washing Dishes

Usually you’d take turns washing the dishes, along with cooking meals. But today, you decided you should clean the dishes together. Throughout the past week, he’d been caught up with his work, meaning you didn’t see each other much.

On Monday, he’d gotten pretty injured, which got you worried already, but the next day he continued on with his work, even with the injury.

He apologized over dinner, which you cooked alone, he came when you were just finishing with the cooking. The apology was accepted over the promise of spending time together.

Holding onto that promise, you started with the dishes.

He’d soap them up, you’d wash it off and put it on the dish rack. It seemed simple, there were just two of you. You were both well over the age for children and Jack’s work wouldn’t exactly work with having children either, but the fact that neither of you wanted any was another reason.

The cutlery was done, the only thing to clean now was the pot.

You sat and admired him as he cleaned, emphasis on him rather than the cleaning part. He looked beautiful, look past all the scars and the wrinkles and he’s a handsome old man.

You laughed at the name, old man. It dawned on you that you were also old, making you laugh again. Jack perked up at your laughs, raising an eyebrow at you.

“We’re old.” You said, a bashful smile on your face.

“Oh, do I know all about that.” Jack joked. “Wrinkles, white hair…”

You nodded, twirling a strand of your hair. “There.” Jack said, putting the pot on your side of the sink. He moved to leave, but you pulled him back by the wrist.

“Just where do you think you’re going, old man?” You laughed at the small joke.

“I don’t know, to bed? Old men need their sleep. Speaking of old people, you should wrap this up.” Jack leaned against the counter beside you.

You nodded, hastily cleaning the pot and setting it aside to dry.

Instead of moving towards your bedroom, you trapped him against the counter, surprising him. He raised a brow at you.

“We haven’t kissed in a few days.”

Jack let out a small laugh, “If that’s what you want...” He leaned in, capturing your lips with his own.

The kiss was short, fulfilling your longing.

You rested your foreheads against each other, gazing into each other’s eyes.

“I love you.” You breathed out at the same time. The statement brought a smile onto your lips. You leaned in for another kiss, a longer one.

You loved to live with each other, wake up next to each other, do your routines with each other, cook for one another, go to sleep next to each other. You loved him and he loved you.

[vegetalass]

RDR2 Boys Cooking + Eating Habits

Arthur 

Somebody else on here wrote some headcanons about Arthur not being able to cook and just eating microwave food all the time and I just have to say…. That’s canon 

Lowkey though he’s trying his best to get better at cooking

Probably the only thing he knows how to make is pasta 

He adds a bunch of random frozen veggies to water as the noodles are cooking 

And then smothers the whole thing in butter and calls it a meal

Or he puts marinara sauce on it straight from the jar 

And yes, that means it’s cold

He’s also getting better at friend rice, too

But he’s really bad at actually making rice 

If he doesn’t add too much water… He burns the bottom 

Charles makes a mental note to buy him a rice cooker for his birthday 

Makes his own popsicles out of random fruit juices and eats them 24/7 

Thinks this qualifies him as a chef

Eats pickles and olives straight out of the jar with a fork 

And sauerkraut too probably 

Just goes over to john’s house on his pizza nights 

Puts ketchup on eggs

John 

Pizza dad 

Probably orders pizza, salad, and a 64oz soda twice a week 

Everything else is just Dino chicken nuggets, Eggos, hot dogs, quesadillas, and frozen peas and corn 

Food you feed to little kids, basically 

Mostly because he does have a little kid 

But also because it’s easy and takes minimal effort and he doesn’t mind eating it, too

Abigail would be mad but she has no room to talk

The most you’ll see him actually make is buttered pasta (like Arthur) or sometimes beans and rice 

Abigail bought them a rice cooker a while ago so that’s one thing he doesn’t have to worry about 

Probably always has some type of dessert laying around 

Doesn’t mean it’s good, but it’s there 

Abigail buys a bunch of those gross, low calorie ice creams and John ends up having to finishing them 

Family lunches consist of a bologna sandwich on wheat bread with American cheese and mayo, a piece of fruit, a bag of chips or crackers, a go-gurt, and some gummies 

And yes he makes them for himself and Abigail too 

They’re all eating good at the Marston household 

(Not really)

Charles 

Everything he cooks are things that can’t be made in single batches 

Lots of healthy soups, chilis, stew, etc…

Most of the time, he makes too much of whatever it is so he always has leftovers 

Everyone is jealous when he brings them for lunch

Probably finds all of his recipes in the newspaper or random magazines he reads while at the grocery store checkout line

Everyone is like, “Charles… Why are you reading Women’s Fitness?” 

And he’s like, “Check out this salad recipe, though”

Puts hot sauce on everything 

Salad, macaroni and cheese, hamburgers... You name it 

And he’s the king of snacking

All of his snacks are healthy, though

Raw veggies and fruit and quinoa chips from Whole Foods or something like that

Nobody likes this

He’s one of those people who brings hard boiled eggs everywhere as a “snack,” too

And yea, he puts hot sauce on those, also 

He really likes those weird protein bars that are hard to bite into and taste like chalk 

The flavors are either normal stuff like white chocolate macadamia or Protein Power Punch with whey, chia and seaweed 

There’s no in between 

He’s also a charcuterie board legend

Hosea is jealous of this talent

Micah

Spends all his money on take out 

He’s totally one of those weird people who’s entire trash can is just filled with take out boxes and cans of coke or beer

Constantly eating fast food 

You ask him what he bought at the supermarket and he’s like “Pub mix and bud light” 

SIR 

Everything that he does manage to cook only involve one step of preparation 

Unseasoned, fried meats and boiled veggies 

Sometimes scrambled eggs and bacon

If he’s feeling fancy, he will make plain sandwiches

This is very rare, though

Can and will complain about anyone’s cooking

Even if it’s good and he he likes it

There are certain people he can’t do this to, though, or they won’t let him eat

The only person’s cooking he doesn’t complain about is Dutch’s

Constantly snacking from an entire party sized bag of chips

And yes, he eats straight out of the bag and wipes his fingers on his jeans

His oven is dirty

Hosea 

A meal for him is probably a handful of almonds and an applesauce or yogurt cup 

He is constantly making a bunch of those Tik Tok recipes where you just put a bunch of random stuff into your crock pot and add ranch seasoning and cream cheese

*insert all of those memes about mom pulling out the crock pot*

If you complain, he says “Well, you’re always welcome to cook, too”

Wears an apron when he cooks

Constantly eating plain toast with butter

And bananas 

And cheese sticks

Thinks that this makes him “healthy” 

Definitely likes to snack on those cocktail fruit cups and canned mandarin oranges

His entire freezer is just full of ice cream 

It’s all weird flavors like Cherry Garcia, chocolate banana, and pistachio though

Everyone hates him for this

Raisins are his late night treat 

Has a secret stash of candy no one can find 

That’s okay though because it’s mostly Werthers Originals

And Chiclets gum

He picks out all the orange ones, though

Dutch

Tries to re-plate takeout so he can call it his own

Everybody sees through this but they stopped commenting on it like four Thanksgivings ago 

Buys a bunch of those meals from Costco that all you need to do is heat up in the oven

He does like fast food but only from the less popular places

Carl’s Jr., Wendy’s, BK, Arby’s, etc. 

A&W, too, because he’s old and weird

He can totally cook, he just never does 

It’s just normal stuff like spaghetti and meatballs or chicken and rice, though

Tuna fish casserole

He over-seasons everything, though

Mostly because he’s trying to prove that he’s a good cook 

Eats dessert twice, every night 

Once right after dinner, and then later when he’s feeling like a treat 

Will eat in bed

Uses a little bib and tray and everything 

Likes pumpkin and sunflower seeds

Would eat hot wings with gloves on 

He’s the one who taught Arthur to put ketchup on eggs 

Kieran 

The second I realized that Kieran would probably be white trash, my life changed 

Hamburger Helper meals for LIFE

That one cheeseburger pasta? Kieran probably eats that three times a week 

He 100% makes the ketchup-butter sketti from Honey Boo Boo 

“It’s been a while since I done had roadkill in my belly”

His favorite dessert is ambrosia salad or that weird yogurt/Cool Whip covered jello that was popular in the 2000s

Probably has a TV dinner every once in a while, too

Instant mashed potatoes and minute rice type of guy 

Also gives me big microwave cheddar broccoli vibes 

I’ve said this before, but his house is probably stocked with all kinds of on-brand goodies 

Probably always has some kind of chip and cookie around 

Eats dinner in front of the TV

Dips french fries in mayonnaise

All of this said though, he isn’t a picky eater and will eat whatever is put on his plate 

That’s why he’s great to take to restaurants, because he never complains

Honestly it’s just so sweet to think of him making big crockpot meals to share with ppl even if his cooking is a lil.... strange 

Javier

Thinks that the hot dog combo from Costco is a suitable dinner 

Also gets hot food from the grocery store for dinner a lot

Literally will just heat up a can of something and eat it plain 

Beans, chili, soup… 

Doesn’t doctor it up or change it at all 

He’s happy to share but no one wants any

Chips and dip, 24/7

And it’s just Tostitos Hint of Lime chips and hummus

Probably puts hummus on everything, too 

Corn chips, tortilla chips, tortillas, vegetables, sandwiches, etc. 

Will put anything in a tortilla and call it a sandwich 

Eats leftovers cold 

The rest of the gang thinks this is a sin

Makes stir fry with whatever is laying around the house

It’s a little gross because he will try to add leftover beans

Refuses to eat fast food

The only exception he’ll make is for french fries and ice cream

Walks around and eats at the same time

Isn’t above asking the other boys to share with him 

Despite the fact that this only happens if what they’re eating is good

Which is almost never

Sean

Sean can’t cook. That’s the end of it

The most he can make is that weird microwave Mac and cheese where the pasta is boiled in the mug?? 

He never does it tho and just sticks with the normal, frozen Mac and Cheese you can microwave instead

Uses his microwaving ability to make mug cakes

And microwave scrambled eggs

Burns his popcorn every single time

He’s probably set of the smoke detector or fire alarm multiple times

He’s Irish though so of course he’s addicted to potatoes and cabbage

And since he’s from the UK, he likes stuff like beans on toast and marmite

He’s a little nasty too so catch him eating bologna sandwiches on wonder bread

Not even the Marstons are that bad

When he does get takeout, he overspends trying to use a delivery app 

He’s like, “And do I need the extra side of special sauce for $5…? Yes.” 

Cooks like this 

[kiaraspeaks]

Anansi x Female!Reader: In a flash we'll meet again.

You hope that he understands one day, his father is a complicated man. Man? That's a stretch of the imagination right there. You loved Anansi, loved him more than anything and anyone else in the world, besides Charlie, but, you couldn't stay with him. Children only are able to see what you put in front of them, and Anansi painted just enough of a vision of himself to hide his world from your child. Children. What a fucking mess that is. There are days that you wished that you hadn't met him but that's a pointless line of thought, Anansi desired you, to know you, to have Charlie, long before any war. He may have driven you up a wall at one point but he was family, and you knew that despite any differences when you called he would always come.

After all that's how you met, you weren't trying to summon a God. But praying for somebody, anybody, to stop this man chatting you up in the bar. You came for a quick drink at Randy's Divebar, Anansi materialized nearby (or perhaps he was waiting in the wings the whole time, just waiting, as he had done your entire life) what might be a hideous green and yellow floral pattern worked for him, long lean lines that might make someone else seem imposing made him even more inviting despite the man yammering on and on about himself.

"Bothering you?" He said, he inhaled on the cigarette and blew smoke into the face of the man hassling you. Whichever meathead that was hassling you didn't take kindly to it, but Anansi didn't care, had never cared, didn't care that he was thinner and obviously more breakable. He out maneuvered everyone before ever setting foot in any room, that included you too. "Move."

"Or what?" They said, he'd been hunched over you for the better part of the night but he was standing up rod straight and cutting an imposing figure. First, Anansi smiled, something you learned much later masks more pain and irritation than any human body could tolerate. Next, he picked up his glass and drained it and turned it over in his hands a few times. You heard it, the sound of the glass shattering, the crunching of the bones in his face, and finally saw the mess of the meathead's face. They ran out screaming, bleeding and crying. You should've been positively frightened but you weren't. Not even as Anansi plucked glass out of hands and tossed it into the drink of the man who had annoyed you.

"That wasn't necessary." You said and nursed your drink. The bartender didn't say anything, clearly they had some type of understanding. They moved further down to tend to other customers.

"Maybe so," He said, the cigarette perched perfectly in the corner of his mouth. He pulled out the splintered shards of glass like it didn't hurt, the blood didn't bother him. He raised his bloody hand and signaled for two drinks. "But it was fun."

"For you."

"Well maybe I'll have to work harder to impress you next time." He said.

"What makes you think there will be a next time, and why would you try?" You said, he smirked, didn't smile. His smirks were harmless, adorable, thoughtful. It's dangerous to know a God so closely. You would call it fate, but Anansi hated such words. After all he thought the only stories that were written in stone were penned by him.

"You're Mr. Nancy's girl, why not try?"

"And who is Mr. Nancy?" You asked, two drinks are placed between you both and then a small container of gauze. Anansi grabbed the gauze and one of the drinks, he poured the liquor over his wounded hand and allowed it to drip perfectly into the glass with the bloody shards. He doesn't wince, sigh or suck in deep breaths of air as the booze washes over his wounds.

"Someone important, snappy dresser, charming, and I hear that he might even be single."

"If I'm his girl how is he single?" You asked,he wrapped his hand with an ease that told he got into these types of scuffles often. Again, you learn Anansi doesn't take on any war that isn't already won, that includes your heart.

"Well that sounds like a proposal if I ever heard one." He said.

"You're Mr. Nancy?"

"My friends call me Mr. Nancy, but you, you can call me whatever you want."

"What's your name?" You asked. Another charming smirk, no madness in the eyes, he tapped the growing mountain of ash into the glass with the shards and the blood and tainted alcohol, he killed the light on the cigarette and topped .

"Have dinner with me and I will tell you." He said.

"You don't even know me, Mr. Nancy."

"Well, I want to get to know you, otherwise we wouldn't still be having this conversation." He said, "Do you want to get to know me?"

"I think so." You said, he held out his undamaged hand to you and you shook it.

"My name is Anansi, and it's wonderful to finally meet you." He said and bowed his head and kissed your hand, and when he asks your name you tell him. You don't know it then but you love him, someone so in love with who you are, starting with your name and every other story that you're apart of. You expected dinner much later, perhaps in a couple days but it didn't take much prodding to get you out. Randy's food at the divebar wasn't very good and you didn't feel like fiddling with the oven tonight.

----

You wished that you could properly explain to your son that his father was a God and that made him half and if he chose have kids that would make them a fraction and yet with all the potential of full Gods. There just never is enough time and never a correct way. Even you struggle at times, Anansi appears to just be a man, impeccably dressed, always on time, and two steps ahead at any given time. You had time to walk away, if anyone could imagine doing such a thing, but you knew something was diffferent, something was wrong. Anansi warned you that he got mixed up with some bad people, that bad times might be coming eventually, gave you time to leave, time to ask questions. Maybe you didn't want to know, perhaps you thought you already knew, you suspected he was a criminal but never a God.

Sometimes he's in two places at once, some times things fall to the floor, teleport across the room, but there are times when he is so far removed from you, nothing can bring him back from that place. You were tired of being ignored, once upon a time being Nancy's girl meant something but now it meant going to bed alone and waking up alone, sometimes with Anansi having not moved from his spot in a chair at all. You came in, surprised he wasn't in a haze, he seemed to be waiting on you.

"You're late." He said. An observation and an accusation. You weren't cheating on him, you could, there were so many who wanted you and yet here you were...alone in your own relationship. The perks of being Nancy's girl.

"So." You said, he went days at a time in the same household and yet not saying a word. How dare he get up for going one night without seeing you. You'd met up with co-worker, Higgler, went out for drinks. No harm in that.

"I waited."

"I didn't ask you to do that."

"I must be confused," He said and stood up and walked into the the kitchen and came to stand beside you. "Is something wrong?"

"No, you tell me, Anansi."

"Are you drunk?" He asked, yes, you were but that wasn't why this was happening. This conversation was begging to be had for a while now.

"Does it matter? Would you even care?"

"I care. Of course I care." He said, then said your name softly and pulled you into his arms. You stay still for a moment but it's hard to resist him, always has been since the moment you met him.

"Why won't you just talk to me?" You asked softly into his chest.

"Would you believe me if I told you?"

"You've never struggled with being convincing before." You said and looked up at him. Then he smiled at you, looked through you and then pulled away.

"Take a seat."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm about to tell you who I am and you should probably sit down." He said, so you do and he does tell you. Your head doesn't split open and you don't die but initially you think he's lying. He can't be a God! He just can't be! It's your human nature to emphatically deny what you don't understand.

It takes more than him politely explaining who and what he was. He sighed heavily and walked away from you. He stood in the center of the kitchen and raised one hand and touched the ceiling and flattened it, then his other hand and used his weight to pivot and climb the ceiling. If that wasn't enough, his forehead was lined with eyes and large fangs extended from his mouth. A birth defect? A disability, possibly. He can see this is a lot and came to sit at his feet.

“This can be a lot for most people.” He said.

“I’m not most people.” You said.

“I know, that’s why I chose you.” You looked down at him and took the cigarette from his hand and he lit it for you.

“What type of God are you?” You ask after a long while, you go through two more cigarettes before you feel steady enough.

“Jack of all trades.” He said. “The people need to be safe and laugh.”

“You make them all laugh?”

“I can change the story but not completely remove it, important parts have to stick. Humans are sticky and linked to one another, I can only ease the journey.” He said. “Wisdom in the form of entertainment has been easiest, you know it’s hard to tell a stupid motherfucker they’re doing something wrong.”

“Are you apart of my story?”

‘Do you want me to be?” He asked, you stand up and he doesn’t look away. Perhaps, reflecting during these final moments you see what it is. Blind faith. He believed in you. Despite him hating fate, kismet, whatever you wanted to call it, he always knew you’d choose him. Like a good book, you’d always return, even if there was an entire ocean separating you. If you couldn’t then he’d come to you. He couldn’t unmake himself a God, much like your boy won’t be able to burn away that part that calls out and sings so sweetly. You held out your hands to him and he took them.

“How long can you stick to the roof?”

“It’s not a party trick.” He said and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and spinning around with you. When he placed you back down you were standing in the bedroom.

“Says who, spiderman?” You asked and you both laugh. It’s a period of adjustment like nearly everything in your life.

----

You ultmately wish for your boy to understand that everything has a sunrise and sunset. You loved Anansi inspite of every red flag you ever saw crop up, and there came a time where loving and being in love wasn't enough. He was your husband, your best friend and beacuse of that you came to a proper agreement. A moment would come when this world and this war was too dangerous. Your boy, charlie, loathed his father because they were too much alike, both parading around in facades, both busybodies in the worst ways, both too damned pigheaded to say what was on their mind truly at times.

"So you're going to leave?" He asked, it was one of the dumbest thing you'd heard him say. You were finally debased to obvious observations, he was always so well spoken and right now he was holding up a wall watching you in your living room. You'd moved from Chicago to Florida, created a life for one another, brought a child into the world, spoke truth into the world only to watch it crumble away partly due to an invisible war you never saw and the fact Anansi spent more times chasing stories than keeping you happy. Those stories always came in many faces, younger, healthier, livelier people who seemed so different from you.

"Bags are packed. This is where we should leave things."

"You're being very cordial about this."

"And you're smiling, are you happy about this too?" You said and pointed out, he ran his tongue over his teeth and tried to remove the smile but failed. He was angry, but so were you for so many reasons you'd never share. If he loved stories so much he could keep up with them without embarassing his son every forty five minutes and neglecting his wife, he'd always be a God and you'd always be a human who might have bit off more than she could chew. Charlie was a God too, no matter how shy and withdrawn he'd became.

"I know what you're thinking." He said and slid his hands into his pcokets.

"I assure you don't." You said, "Maybe in another time but I can't--"

"Can't what?"

"Can't play second fiddle forever to whatever story you're chasing." You said, "Not for you or for any man."

"Maybe not a man, but a God?" He asked. He pushed off the wall and walked over to you. After years together charm wears off, the butterflies die but familiarity never changes. Falling into step has become second nature, you are so far from the young woman impressed by the cool headed man with brute strength who won every battle before he ever picked an arena. "I know you think you're making the right choice."

"And what do you think?" You asked, "And I want you to really tell me, no cheating, no looking into the future."

"I think that no matter where you go, all you have to do is call and I'll come."

"You'll have three more people moved in before the end of the week." You said, you need to say it so that you know this is really over.

"Doesn't make it any less true." He said and you hold out your hand to him.

"When I'm gone, promise you'll be here for him, he'll need you." You said, he took your hand and dropped down onto one knee and kissed the back of it.

"I'll do my best."

"That's all I can ask for." You said and placed your hand on the top of his head and then pulled away and lifted up your last bag and started towards the door. "If I ever call...it will be to say goodbye."

"So this isn't goodbye." He said and teleported beside the door.

"No, this is just farewell for now." You said and walked out. You don't look back, you don't need to, you don't know exactly what binds him here but hopes he finds something to free himself.

----

You hope one day he understands that his father is not a man and will never behave like one. He doesn't have to, he's not even bound to this planet let alone it's rules, but you hope one day that Fat Charlie realizes he is so much more than just a man and to live the life he really wants to. You can feel when the life starts to leave you and you want all your affairs in order. You move across the country and then out of the country and Charlie followed. He grew bitter and irritated with his father seeing his flambouyant and exuberant personality as a flaw instead of something to carve out in himself. You don't expect cancer to take you, but you've lived a full life and hope Charlie does the same.

You don't expect Anansi to actually show, you don't expect the band, or the kiss that would knock you off your feet if you weren't already in bed plugged up to machines. The nurses enjoy the change in pace and so does Christine, your roommate. Anansi is lively and brings a bottle to celebrate your new change in life, or so he calls it that.

"I'm sick." You said, "I'm dying."

"You're all dying, but it's not a bad thing, and I'm right here, like I promised."

"Still a man of your word down to the parade." You said, you thought the times you got drunk and waxed poetic he hadn't paid attention. You were glad some things hadn't slipped through the cracks. "Talk to Charlie?"

"No, no, you know how he is. Always on about something."

"He's your son and when I'm gone he's all the family you got left."

"You consider yourself family?"

"You wouldn't cross an ocean for no reason." You said. He slid his chair closer, placing his hand over yours.

"You look good." He said, he's older now, or that's what he wants you to think. A little sag here, a bit more hunched over. You've watched him shift his entire body to fit his agenda, this is no different.

"I'm old and bald, Mr. Nancy." You said,

"Call me Anansi."

"Or whatever I want, right?"

"Right." He said and laughed. "But you look good regardless of what you've got. If you could do anything, what would you do?"

"Besides live?"

"Yes, besides that." He said and held your hand in his. His hands have grown harder, rougher. Less story telling, more fighting, much more hard work than he ever should've been used to.

"I want to travel, really see the world, you know I always talk about it but things got in the way, and then Charlie came and I couldn't just take off."

"Yeah, I think I'd lead that boy to an early grave." He said and you both laugh together. A hearty laugh that you didn't know you needed. "Well let me get some things in order first and you'll have it."

"Look, Anansi--"

"You're Nancy's girl, right? You'll have what you need." He said, and you believe him. A spinner of tales he might be but never a liar, at least when it came to you. "Say it."

"I'm too old for this shit."

"No, I'm too old for this. You're exactly where you're supposed to be." He said and you smile, it's been so long since you've done that, you've done more smiling now than you have in the last couple of years. "Say it."

"Say what?"

"You're Nancy's girl."

"I'm your girl." You said and smile again, you mean it, after all these damn years away from him, only an hour together and you've fell back into patterns.

"Kiss on it?" He asked, ever the slick and sly trickster. It has been many years since you've kissed him, it's not just flesh to flesh, he can pour something into you that you didn't know you needed.

"If that's why you came then sure."

"No not the only reason but you know you got what'll make a man sell his soul to the devil and cross the sea." He said, he stood up and leaned over you, not making you work too hard. He leaned on the button helping you lean back and pressed his lips to yours, tilting your head up. You feel it, a tingle, something that starts to brighten and jump to life inside you. You are not a spring chicken anymore, but he makes parts of you spring to life as if you were in the first bloom of your life. "Damn, girl."

"What are you on about?" You asked.

"Nothing, you called, I came, like I told you I would. I've got to get back before anyone knows I'm missing."

"Don't forget to say goodbye to your son."

"Oh, I won't." He said and raised your hand up one final time and kissed the back of it. You watch him go and know you'll see him again but you won't be among the living, this is your last time. You are unsurprised when your tests come back negative and you're discharged. The cancer is gone, dead within seconds, and when you return home you find plane tickets waiting on your counter. Anansi is more than a man and that's okay, you hope Fat Charlie sees that.

-----

You are dead. You know that. You hope Charlie can learn to forgive his father for being so boisterous, larger than life and embarassing, but he is his father's child and it is hard for them to see eye to eye on any damn thing. You rise from the hotel bed and walk over to the balcony and you wait for him because you know he's going to come, or you're going to find him. The land of the dead is silent, there are others, you can see them walking about, playing in the park, running with their dogs, kissing and holding hands, going on strolls. For a moment you think you won't see him, you leave, no need to gather your things, you won't need them.

Anansi once told you about the after life, about what may or may not await you depending on which road you walked. You knew he said he'd never be far behind and you believe that, you believe in him. You step out of the hotel, turn right and walk, going purely on intuition, the hotels and beach towns wash away, through the forests you continue, climb the necessary hills. As you come upon a different world you note your knees don't hurt, your feet don't ache and neither does your back. At the top of a hill is a cave, you pass through the mouth of it and felt something shake and shimmer over you as you enter the room.

It is a large single room, a grate pit in the center of the room surrounded by cushions. There are portraits on the orange walls and shadows dance about the room, you're sure exactly from where. He is laying back on the cushions, his head is pillowed on his arm and staring up at you. He is different, more himself, his true self. His hair is longer, and he has many eyes that line his forehead, and many arms that line his torso. He has a book hand, is weaving with another and waving from a completely different hand.

"You found me." He said.

"For now, I don't think I can stay here, can I?" You asked.

"Not the end of your journey, I'm afraid. Soul like yours comes around once in every few flashes."

"Flashes?"

"It's complicated. You'll learn. All afterlifes are the same in one way or another."

"How much time do we?"

"Oh, as much as you want." He said and dug between the cushions and held a bag of sand. "Sand of times, snatched it off some kid on the way home. Felt like we'd need some time together."

"For what?"

"Whatever you want."

"And Charlie?"

"He'll be fine, smart kid with a good head on his shoulders." He said, he pushed himself up and kept tossing the bag up in the air.

"Tell me what you did when I left." She said.

"Now that is a story..." He said, you walked over to him and the things he semed to be doing to keep himself busy disappeared. He welcomed you with open arms, when you wrap your arms around him the room changes with a snap. You are back in the bar you met in, you pull away and look up. Yes. This is Randy's. Same dumpy dive bar where he inserted himself in your life and you let him. He walked away and over to the bar and picked up the glass of bloodied glass shards, tainted alcohol and ash from his cigarette.

"WHat's is this about?" You asked. He picked up the second glass and poured it into the concoction.

"Drink it."

"You think I'm crazy?"

"You trust me, right?" He said and held it out to you, "Besides, you're already dead."

"There's so much worse you can do."

"Says who?"

"Says whoever you snatched that sand from." You said.

"Touche." He said, but you drink it anyway. A drink. A potion. Whatever it is it makes your head spin, you feel whatever entity you are shift and turn inside out and the sound from Randys came back but it was different. Not a dusty dive bar but the scent of it is still the same and so is the chipped bar. You and Anansi stood at the back of the crowded bar, someone at the front was tearing it up on a saxophone.

"I made arrangements." Anansi said.

"For?"

"Our boy." He said, and yes, why it is Charlie but he's different. Alive in a way you could never put your finger on as his mother. But you see it, at his core, what makes him a God and a man and they're not at war with one another.

"True to your word, why does that make me feel like we're coming to the end of our journey?"

"We'll meet again, a soul like yours, shines too bright." He said. You nod your head in agreement, you sip the drink again and feel yourself start to break and shift. Charlie climbs down from the makeshift stage and tries to part the crowd, but you are dust in the wind.

Blood.

Glass.

Liquor.

Ash.

----

You are flesh, bone and free will, but you do not have direction. Perhaps that's why you hover here at Mausoleum of the fallen. The entities that are sculpted here are beautiful some made of marble, others onyx, you walk by and sense that you are not alone. You know you are a flash, a shift in the cosmic energy and a rarity, you will continue to hide amongst of the morals, walk between the worlds of Gods and mortals....and then there they are far in the back of the Mausoleum.

"What are you?" You asked.

"Choice." They said, the God walked out, impeccably dressed, "Always on time, I see."

"I don't understand."

"You will."

"Gods have never come to meet me before."

"This is different and I'm not just any God," He said.

"How many flashes have we suffered one another?" You asked, you're not sure but instinct in not something you need to find. This multi-eyed creatures stares at you with fondness.

"Seventeen."

"That is not chance, that is planned." You said.

"Yes."

"Why is this different?" You asked, They held up a tumbler of alcohol with ash and glass shards floating in it. You look away back to the statues, there are handfuls of Gods that are necessary, some haven't been seen in eons, they play it fast and loose and are wild cards. You wonder which one he'll be.

"Just is." He said, you have no reason not to trust him despite being gifted with these instincts. You reach for the tumbler but he pulled it back away from you. "The past couple times I meddled but now you have a chance, a real chance."

"You don't think I'll choose you." You said and tilted your head to the side to study them. "Even though you chose me all these cycles."

"The last cycle was different, you walked away, for good, only called when you were about to die."

"And so you wanted to know that now I'd choose you."

"Yes."

"Fascinating."

"How so?" He sked.

"Even Gods, in all your wisdom and knowledge, have your insecurities."

"We invented them, mortals just inherit them."

"Now what will we do afterward?" You asked, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag full of sand.

"We have time to figure that out." He said and this time when you reach for the glass he allows you to take it. You drink it down down, swallowing the glass and ash and tainted alcohol, with each swallow you remember a different life, a different flash, eons of you doing this dance with him, each time you're different, the circumstances are different but the last time is by far the most daunting. Charlie. Oh, how many years has it been? Did your baby boy live well? "How do you feel?"

"Cold." You said and looked down and noticed you were naked. "I bet you think this is funny."

"Only in a cosmic way."

"Is Charlie--"

"He's fine, he's fine. Two wives, three kids, a bar. Living the dream." He said and shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over your shoulder. "We have time to catch up on him later, I've missed you."

"What do you want to do?"

"Lets go to a club, I need to stretch my legs."

"Which ones?" You said and then scoffed as you followed him out of the afterlife. You weren't sure where you were going but you trusted him enough, had trusted him after thousands of rebirths, what was so different this time? For so long you two had been together, maybe now you could stay together without the cruel hand of fate intervening. As you reached the portal you thought of one last thing. "Whatever happened to that war?"

"Oh. I ate the people that were pissing me off.. " He said.

"You're kidding."

"Only a little." He said. "No worries, no war this time, just you and me."

"The way it's supposed to be."

"The way it's always been."

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

The Most Important Mission

One-Shot

Description- Valkyrie/Queen of Asgardians (Brunnhilde), and Captain Marvel (Carol Danvers), Protector of the Galaxies, come together for an important mission. 

This one-shot is my entry for the writing challenge set by @anika-ann ! The fic is set almost a year after Endgame and is inspired by the prompt - “As far as plans go, this isn’t a good one.” “This was your plan.” “I didn’t think you’d actually say yes!” Check out the challenge here

Warning - Fluff 

Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

Fire alarm blared as the room filled with thick, black smoke. An acidic, burning smell filled their nostrils as Brunnhilde and Carol escaped the room, coughing. Smoke stung their eyes and formed tears. They sat on the floor outside the room, panting in defeat.

"I had no… no idea this would be so difficult," said Brunnhilde, catching her breath. "To think I signed up for this," Carol shook her head, "should have listened to Fury."

"Where do you think we went wrong? We followed everything that was mentioned in the briefing," wondered Brunnhilde.

"Well," Carol looked at her, "I don't think I should have used the plasma blasters. That's probably what set the device off."

“As far as plans go, that wasn’t a good one,” commented Brunnhilde. “It was your plan!” exclaimed Carol. “I didn’t think you’d actually say yes!” Brunnhilde retorted.

They got up, brushing the dust off themselves when Sam and Maria came rushing into the room. "What the hell were you doing?" shouted Maria, looking at the destruction in shock.

"Fury assigned us to a mission for today, but things did not go well," Carol admitted.

"Fury gave you an assignment for today?" asked Sam.

"Yes," replied Brunnhilde.

"For Morgan's birthday?" he inquired.

"Yes."

"Did he ask you to bake a cake?"

"Yes."

"And you burned down the kitchen?!"

Carol looked sheepishly at Brunnhilde.

"Weren't Scott and Banner in charge of the birthday cake?" wondered Maria.

"They were, but they had to help with the decorations, as Bucky was a little jumpy around balloons," noting her confused face, Brunnhilde added, "Somebody kept popping the balloons." Maria nodded in acknowledgement as Sam snickered.

"So what do we do now? Should we just order the cake from a bakery?" suggested Maria.

"No. We took this mission and we will see that it is completed," announced a determined Carol. 

"Boy you need Martha Stewart to pull this off in such a short time," claimed Sam whole assessing the damage to the kitchen.

"Who is she? Can we bring her in?" asked Brunnhilde. 

"I will ask the tag team to locate her right away," added Carol.

"No no! You won't lay a finger on Martha Stewart!" Sam spoke in panic, "I have her recipe book on simple cakes for beginners. You can use it in my kitchen. Just, don't plasma-fry my oven. I can't have a hangry Winter Soldier staying with me."

"Hangry? Don't you mean hungry?" Maria corrected him. "Please! Have you seen the guy? He's always angry. It gets worse when he's hungry on top of it."

Brunnhilde and Carol looked at each other, "Are you sure we don't need Martha Stewart here?"

"Yes absolutely!" asserted Sam.

"You have 3 hours ladies. Good luck," Maria departed with a reminder.

3 hours later...

The birthday party had just begun at the Stark Farmhouse. The house had been transformed to resemble a castle, with balloons, streamers and other decorations dotting the surrounding lawn. 

"Everybody! Welcome the birthday girl, Princess Morgan, Ruler of the Cheeseburgers Kingdom!" Peter Parker announced as he accompanied the little girl dressed in a princess costume. Everyone cheered and welcomed the cute princess with confetti and hugs.

Pepper went around the party with Morgan, greeting everyone and thanking them for coming. "Happy," she called out to him, "Where is the cake?" He tapped his pockets, trying to find his mobile, "Let me call and check."

Just as he was about to dial Carol's number, he heard the sound of wings flapping from somewhere above him. Soon, he was covered in the shadow of Brunnhilde's regal white Pegasus, descending on the grounds. 

"We are here!" she announced from her seat on the winged-horse. "With cupcakes!" added Carol from behind her.

"Ooooo a flying horse! Look mamma a flying horse!" Morgan excitedly sprinted towards the animal. "Wow! I wasn't expecting the Pegasus Brunnhilde! Thank you for the surprise," said an astonished Pepper. "Yeah well, we thought what does every princess need? A flying horse that she can ride into battle!" Brunnhilde beamed in response.

"Exactly! Say Morgan, do you wanna ride the Pegasus with Aunt Carol and Aunt Brunnhilde?" Carol asked the birthday girl. "YAY!!" Morgan screamed with joy, "Mamma can I go with them? Pplleeeeeaasseee??" she pleaded with her puppy eyes. "Uummm maybe after you have cut and eaten your birthday cake?" suggested Pepper. 

"Birthday cupcakes not cake," Carol corrected Pepper, "We just thought cupcakes would be easier for everyone to handle and would save the hassle of cutting and serving each slice."

"Aahh makes sense," Pepper agreed and led them towards the table where they could set up the cupcakes.

"Our distraction is working so far," Brunnhilde whispered to Carol as they started unpacking the boxes. "Let's hope we get away with the next part," muttered Carol.

"Okay everyone! Can I have your attention please?" Carol clapped her hands together and everyone looked at her. "We have another surprise planned for this party! Here we have a large cupcake only for our birthday princess to cut and eat," she gestured towards a cupcake that was a little larger than the others in size due to spillage of the batter. It was coated with multicolored sprinkles, M&Ms and marshmallows. The cupcake was basically a 6-hour worth of sugar rush packed in a bite. 

"And for the rest of us, there are plain cupcakes which you can decorate with 5 different coloured icing options! Isn't that fun?" continued Carol, trying her best to be enthusiastic.

"5 icing options? Awesome!" said Peter Parker excitedly.

"Oooo so many different colours that you can eat," Mantis looked at the different icing bags with wonder.

"I am Groot." "He says thank you for also including the brown colored icing," Rocket translated for Groot.

"Aawww you are welcome Groot," replied Brunnhilde.

"C'mon everyone let's sing Happy Birthday and cut the cake," Happy announced.

In hindsight, everyone could have prepared better for this moment. You see, the thing with the Happy Birthday song is that it has different variations not just on earth, but also across the galaxy. Shuri, Okoye and T'Challa chanted calmly in isiXhosa while Drax stomped his feet in tune with his song. Brunnhilde and Thor sang the Asguardian version by flailing their arms around. Rocket and Nebula covered their ears as Mantis shrieked. The rest of the earthlings hummed/sang along at different tempos, with Peter Quill ending on a high note ".... to yoooooooooouuuuu!"

Morgan looked around happily at the cacophony of birthday songs and blew the candle on her cupcake.

As the others started crowding around the cupcake stand, Maria expressed her concerns, "Have you guys eaten these?" she said, gesturing towards the cupcakes.

"Ha. Ha," Carol laughed sarcastically, "Don't worry we had them tested in the lab. They are safe to eat."

"Y'all baked cupcakes, made different frostings, and got here in just 3 hours? Especially after that fiasco in the kitchen? Spill the tea sis," Shuri cocked an eyebrow at them. 

Both Brunnhilde and Carol looked at each other with confusion. "We didn't spill any tea. Although we did knock over a jar of coffee beans," said a confused Brunnhilde. 

"Yeah and how do you know about the disaster in the kitchen?" inquired Carol.

"It's trending on Twitter," Shuri shrugged nonchalantly.

"Who put it there?" they both asked in unison.

"I did!" Shuri confessed with a smirk and left to play with Morgan, who was busy admiring the giant Pegasus.

Bucky came over to their stand, unsure of the choices. He tentatively picked up a plain cupcake, thanked them, and quietly headed for a corner. Calling out after him, Sam asked Bucky to wait. Sam quickly took an icing bag and started frosting swirls on his cupcake. He looked at the 2 ladies, "Do I dare ask about my kitchen? Has it survived your baking endeavours?" 

"Yes yes of course. We only had to use the fire extinguisher once," Brunnhilde reassured him.

"Twice," Carol reminded her.

"Oh right. Yeah twice. But everything else is good!" Brunnhilde beamed at him.

Sam shook his head and went ahead to join Bucky. To Carol's surprise, they exchanged their cupcakes as they sat on the bench.

Almost half of the cupcakes were now gone, leaving the tabletop in a mess. While Brunnhilde was busy teaching everyone to ride her Pegasus, Carol was busy bursting the balloons filled with confetti above Morgan.

Rhodey approached Brunnhilde as she landed the Pegasus with Nebula. The blue alien looked visibly happy when the winged-horse nudged her playfully. "Thank you for bringing this guy over here," said Rhodey, acknowledging the animal. "It was nothing. Anything for little Morgan," Brunnhilde brushed him off. "And it's also a good distraction from the fact that there's no birthday cake and y'all are clueless when it comes to decorating cupcakes," Rhodey added with a smirk. 

Brunnhilde chucked. There was no pulling a fast one on Rhodey. "So what's going on between you two?" he playfully elbowed her. "Nothing much really. We spend some time together whenever she comes back, which is hardly ever. But that's really all there is to it."

"And you can't join her on her travels because?" Rhodey paused for her to fill in.

"I am a Queen Rhodey. I am responsible for my people. They have nobody on Earth other than me. And you, of all the people, know how difficult the government is. I mean it's not our fault that we are more advanced than the entire human civilization!"

Rhodey sighed defeatedly, "I hear you. More governments across the globe are increasingly losing sympathy for the Asguardians. I know you have already considered this before, but are you sure you want to keep your people on Earth? Don't get me wrong, I love having you guys around. It's just that the Council isn't exactly happy with the fact that there are literally aliens living amongst us."

Brunnhilde considered him solemnly, "It's not that easy to just find an empty planet in the galaxy and inhabit it. There is always some or the other governing body who would have an issue." She kicked a stone out of her way as she continued, "Behind all its glitz and gold, Asgard has a bloody history, one that is marred by the destruction of civilizations. Any other planet familiar with it wouldn't be as kind to us as Earth. At least here, it helps that Thor is a popular figure."

"And have you shared this with Ms I-Got-Plasma-Cannon-Blasters-In-My-Hands?" Rhodey nodded towards Carol.

Chuckling, she shook her head, "She has enough problems of the galaxy on her shoulders. I don't want to add on to that. I just want her to relax and enjoy herself when she comes back home."

Home. There was another reason she didn't share with Rhodey. Brunnhilde was scared that if the Asguardians moved to another planet, Carol might stop visiting her afterall. For her, Earth was her home, where she was born. And even though they hadn't discussed the extent of their "relationship", Brunnhilde didn't want to lose Carol. After the battle with Hela where the love of her life had bled to death in her arms, Brunnhilde had been scared to be with someone. But now, she was terrified of being alone. 

Brunnhilde didn't realise she was standing alone on the ground, gazing into space when Carol's voice brought her back to earth. "Hey what's wrong?" she cooed. "Ahh nothing much really," Brunnhilde managed to compose herself as the despondent memories of her lonely time on Sakaar dispersed from her mind. "Had fun with the balloons?" she inquired. 

"Yeah, until Pepper said no to the use of superpowers at the party," Carol pouted.

"How are we supposed to keep ourselves entertained then?" 

"Clint for one found a few magic tricks to practise on the Strange Doctor," Carol gestured towards Clint where he excitedly removed a quarter from behind Doctor Strange's ear, who looked ready to send Clint into the dark dimension.

"And as for us," Carol continued in her honey-sweet voice, "I can think of a few things we can do to entertain each other," she said with a wink.

"Not at a kid's birthday party!" Brunnhilde dramatically gasped.

"I was talking about sharing a cupcake! What were you thinking?" Carol giggled as she revealed the cupcake from behind her back. It had an uneven, squiggly heart piped on it with pink icing.

Brunnhilde laughed as she looked at the heart, "Are you sure we should eat it?"

"Eh, everybody else seems okay. Wouldn't kill us to eat at least one."

"You never know. WE baked this," Brunnhilde chuckled as they sat on the lawn, enjoying the setting sun.

"Ummm so listen. Have you heard about this planet called Nyorg? It is around 12 jumps from Asgard, in the Androyorg galaxy?" asked Carol.

"I think so. Isn't that the planet which went barren a few thousand years ago?"

Carol nodded in confirmation. "I was recently inspecting that planet for signs of life. Few patches across the planet are already covered with trees and grass. There are tiny streams and lakes which supply a steady amount of water. Also, the houses that people left behind are still there. But they do need repairs."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Brunnhilde looked at her with curiosity.

Carol hung her shoulders, "I know the problems Asguardians are facing on Earth. This is not your home. And it will never be. The best option for you guys is to start over, you know that too."

Brunnhilde squinted her eyes at her. "Are the Mnoreyags okay with us residing on their planet?"

"Technically, they abandoned the planet 4,578 thousand years ago. So they have no claim over it. Still, I spoke with the head of the Mnoreyags and he is happy to concede his claim on the planet," Carol assured her.

"But what does he want in return from Asgard?"

"Nothing," Carol said a little too quickly, averting her gaze and instead looking down at the grass.

Brunnhilde held her chin and turned Carol to face her. "What did you offer him?" she asked her gently.

Carol placed her head on Brunnhilde's shoulder, "He wants my blood sample to try and recreate my superpowers."

"But that's -"

"I know. It can be disastrous. But I am hoping Asgard regains its past glory and power to help stop the threat," Carol smiled hopefully.

Brunnhilde shook her head in dismay. 

Sensing her hesitation, Carol continued, "The Nine Realms that Asgard guarded are no longer under your command or protection. You know better than anyone that peace and order must be restored in the realms. And for that, Asgard needs to become powerful. Worst case scenario? We will deal with the Mnoreyags if they manage to replicate my powers."

"You shouldn't have to do this for me," Brunnhilde whispered sadly.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, my Majesty," Carol rested her forehead on Brunnhilde's.

Sudden explosions in the sky demanded their attention. Beautiful patterns of fireworks lit the darkening sky. Brunnhilde noticed the colours from the fireworks highlighted Carol's features in the most beautiful way possible. 

"No," she said abruptly, to Carol's surprise, "No, you will not give your blood sample to those Mnoreyags idiots. They abandoned that planet. They have no right over it."

"But we need to give up something-,"

"The Queen of Asgard will never give up anything of hers. Ever," Brunnhilde interrupted her with a smile.

Tears filled Carol's eyes when she realised the importance of that statement. 

They shared a quiet kiss amidst the hub hub of the party, with the stars in the night sky promising a brighter, better future.

Permanent tag- @donutloverxo

[dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade]

Anger & Cupcakes

Request: HERE A/N: Really took my time with this one. I know the title is kinda odd, but really had no inspiration what to name it lol. @thebohemianpenguin​ this is for you, and I hope you enjoy it! I for sure do love soft and fluffy Sammy. Critiques and comments are welcome  Word count: 1.6 K+ Warnings: none

GIF isn’t mine. I found it in my gallery. If you are the owner/creator of it, feel free to DM me or leave an ask. I’d be more than happy to give you credit. To be added to the permanent taglist, DM me or leave an ask!

Fanfiction Masterlist

“No, Sam. Leave me alone!” you shout and kick the door which closed with a loud thump.

You jump in the bed and pout, anger still boiling through your veins. You couldn’t believe the audacity he had to argue with you that you have taken his acoustic guitar from the house to one of your friends and left it there without telling him. And you couldn’t believe the absurdity of this whole situation. Why argue so much about a big pile of nothing?

You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for Sam to come in and apologize, but instead you heard the front door closing and then the engine of his car starting up. You saw his car leave shortly after. You shook your head in disbelief, the rage within you only growing stronger.

You took in deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down for when Sam would come back home and discuss it with him without shouting and without anger. You laid down on the bed, covering yourself with a thin blanket, eventually falling asleep.

You woke up to the sound of steps. Your guess was that it was Sam trying to be silent, but managing to step in all the creaky spots, making incredible noise. You didn’t bother getting up, you just waited to hear the door opening.

You heard the door slowly open with a creek and Sam muttering something inaudible. You felt the mattress moving a little bit as Sam sat down next to you.

“Baby,” he whispers in your ear and places his hand on your shoulder. You open your eyes and turn towards him.

“What do you want?” you blurt out. That came out more aggressive than you intended it to be. You bit your lip, trying to maintain a straight face.

“I want to say I’m sorry. I was wrong and even if I wasn’t wrong, I overreacted,” he apologizes and searches for your hand. “The guitar was at the studio. Danny called after you came here to tell me I forgot it there. Anyway, I shouldn’t have reacted like that, no matter what happened,” he agreed.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” you agree with him and look at him. You knew that moment it was a mistake to do so, because he had this ability to make you forgive him instantly with a simple look and he knew it. Your heart warmed up and let out a defeated sigh.

“Wait, I got you something,” Sam speaks quickly and frees your hand from his. He jogs to the door of the bedroom and bends over to pick up something. You had to admit, you were intrigued. You followed his every single move until he returned next to you and showed you a basket with all sorts of colorful flowers. Sam put them down on the nightstand and made a short sign to wait for a moment before he disappeared again.

You gazed over to the basket of flowers and your heart burst with happiness. They were so beautiful and Sam knew how much you loved flowers and how much you missed spring and summer, just because in wintertime there were no such beautiful flowers. When you moved in with him, Sam even made a special part of the garden, only for you and your flowers.

Sam appeared again in the door frame and kicked off his shoes, remaining only in his dark blue socks with saxes drawn all over them. He had brought you a large box of chocolates, those little ones with a tiny bit of alcohol inside. They were your favorites and Sam knew that that was the way to make you completely forgive him.

“You’re emotionally bribing me,” you laugh as you tear open the package and shove a chocolate into your mouth. At first, it tasted like ordinary chocolate but you squeezed it a little bit more between your teeth and the chocolate cracked in two and let the small, almost infinitesimal, quantity of brandy inside it flow into your mouth, bringing a tiny sense of numbing your tongue.

“And is it working?” Sam asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

You shoved another candy in your mouth. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Now Sam’s face lit up. He was all a smile, ear to ear. He reached out to take one of the chocolates and put it in his mouth. He briefly stood up and took off the jacket he used when he was outside and jumped back in the bed next to you. You took one more chocolate and decided that that was it. You weren’t going to finish the whole thing now, so you pushed it towards Sam.

Sam’s arm snaked around your waist and once he got hold of it, he pulled you closer to him. You didn’t fight against it. You let yourself be pulled and once you were next to his chest and you could hear his beating heart, you buried your face in his shirt. You inhaled deeply the scent that you know so well and love so much.

Sam’s free hand found its way to your back and softly patted you.

“I am very sorry that we had that fight earlier,” he finally speaks and you feel the vibrations of his voice passing through his chest and making their way through your ear. “Will you forgive me?”

“Yes Sammy, of course I do,” you speak, still listening to his heartbeat. You sit up, holding yourself up by using your elbow.

“I love you,” he speaks so soft as if there was somebody eels in your room and he wanted just you to hear it.

“I love you, too,” you smile and sit up, taking Sam by his hand. A playful look made its way to his face.

You lead him in the kitchen. You were barefoot and the contact with the cold floor made you walk a little bit faster. You opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of cupcakes that you had bought the day before. Sam’s eyes glistened, the same way they do when an idea passes his mind.

“What?” you ask with a grin on your face.

“Let’s bake some cupcakes.”

Your lips parted in a smile, revealing your teeth. You remembered that one time you tried baking with Sam. It probably wasn’t the most brilliant idea ever, but you loved it, so you agreed in an instant with his idea.

You were planning on baking a cake the next day, so you had all the necessary supplies. You and Sam both put your hair up in buns and prepared all the ingredients. You agreed on making chocolate cupcakes with blueberry marmalade filling. You two definitely made a mess, but swaying to Lou Reed’s songs with Sammy while baking was definitely a dream come true. Sam was such a special boy – he always comforted you and he felt like home. He was the home of your heart.

When you finally finished the cupcakes and put the dough in the cupcake cases, you looked around the kitchen. Flour all over the counter, your apron, your face and Sammy’s face. You laughed at the image as Sam grabbed your waist and placed his lips on yours. It was like your lips were perfectly made for each other. They knew perfectly the steps to the dance they had to do every time they met and this time was no different.

You could taste some faint mint, probably from the gum he chewed earlier, and a gentle, but persistent taste of blueberry marmalade. Your lips swayed perfectly as your whole bodies did the same to the rhythm of the music playing softly on the background. The kitchen was covered in the sweet smell of freshly baked dough and you could’ve sworn the temperature in the room raised a little bit.

When finally you pulled away from the kiss, Sam looked down at you. He was a couple of inches taller than you, but that was no problem for you. It meant that every time you hugged, you would be on the perfect level with him, head resting on his chest and his arms pulling you towards him, as if protecting you from the chaotic and loud world around.

Sam still had a little bit of flour on his finger so he poked at your nose, leaving some of it there and then bursting into a loud laugh that made you laugh too.

You pulled the tray out of the oven and while the cupcakes were cooling, you quickly cleaned up the counter and you cleaned yourself. By the time you were done, the cupcakes were down to a reasonable temperature. You put them on a plate and walked with it in the living room, where Sam was shuffling through his records.

He was wearing a red sweater with the Detroit Red Wings logo on it and his hair was still caught up in a bun, strands falling down his chest. Thanks to the lighting in the room, his cheekbones and jawline were even more prominent than usual and his eyes got a deeper, yet lighter shade of brown that looked like old honey. This whole image seemed like a renaissance painting.

Sam put on the record in his hands and took the plate of sweet treats from your hand and placed it on the couch, not before he took a cupcake though. He took a bite out of it and his face lit up in pure delight. He put down the bitten cupcake and took you by the hand and interlocked your fingers together and spun you around. You noticed that now both of you were barefoot, but now the cold floor wasn’t greeting you harshly, like before, but with a lot more delicacy.

“Thank you for being in my life and for making me the happiest man to ever walk this Earth,” he whispered in your ear as he lead your first few steps to the rhythm of the music. The first steps into a night that the two of you danced away, lost in each other’s eyes.

Tags: @myownparadise96​, @satans-helper​, @jeordinevankiszka​, @littlegeekwonder​, @songbirdkisses​, @pomegranatecurses​, @umbriellethenightfall​, @freeeshavacadoo​, @karrotkate​, @mountainofthesunn​

[brrahbrrahcharacterimagines]

My Hero (Podrick Payne x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Podrick Payne x Reader

Word Count: 2285

Warnings: Some guys being assholes, oops and cursing/swearing. But yea the guys are creepy

“You’re welcome, Lady Katherine,” you say as she thanks you for the strawberry tart. The elderly woman took a bite, savoring the flavor in her mouth.

“Every day you seem to get only better,” she said after swallowing, making you smile. 

You were a baker in King’s Landing, and a damn good one too. You worked in a small bakery with a group of other ladies. All of you were close, especially since you were running a business together. It was almost unheard of for a woman to lead a business this way. However, after your eldest partner’s, Roslin’s, husband died, she was left sole heir and she could do what she wanted with the money. She purchased this property, electing not to remarry and instead make a living for herself. You admired her, and perhaps that is what inspired you to start working there in the first place.

You had to admit that you were not the best baker at first. In fact, you seemed to burn every dish you put in the oven. If one came out miraculously unharmed, it had been ruined in some other way. Once you had switched the salt and the sugar, leading to some very bad cookies.

Now, you were one of the best pastry chefs in town. You were proud of that. It was something you had done for yourself. You had been taken under the wing of the other ladies, but you flew from the nest a strong baker. 

You excused yourself, making your way back to the kitchen.

“Y/N, did you see the pair sat by the far window?” You heard Aleida whisper giddily, giggling with the rest of the girls.

“No,” you responded. You couldn’t help but smile back at them. “Why?”

“There sits the tallest woman we have ever seen,” replied Aleida. You peeked around the corner, seeing that they were right. A figure was sitting at the table by the window with short blonde hair. She may have been wearing a suit of armor, but there was no doubt in your mind that she was a woman. She sure was impressive, but it didn’t warrant the reaction the rest of the girls had. You looked back to them for answers.

“And?”

“The most gorgeous man we’ve ever seen.”

You looked back out towards the table, seeing a man seated across from the tall woman. You didn’t know how you hadn’t noticed him when you had looked before. You presumed that it was because you were focused on the woman, but now that you saw him you all but forgot everything else. You heard Roslin’s voice, bringing you back to reality.

“What?” You asked, not having heard her from your daze.

“I said,” she repeated with a knowing smirk. “I’m assigning you to her table.” Your jaw fell open in shock.

“No, I couldn’t,” you rebutted. You knew that you would make a fool of yourself if you came within a five-foot radius of the man.

“You can, and you will,” she retorted. You loved her stubbornness, but you had to admit you loved it less when you were on the receiving end. “Moreover,” she continued, “you’re the only one of us who is without a man who has the desire to have one.”

Your face flushed, knowing she was right. The other ladies already had husbands, or were at least courting men. The ladies that weren’t seeing them had no desire to, at least at the moment. You had told them on many occasions how you longed for somebody in your life to fill this position, and now those drunken confessions came back to bite you in the butt.

“Please Y/N,” said Aleida. “You have to go talk to him, he’s too attractive not to.”

You walked over to the table, knowing that there would be no arguing. Even if you tried, it wouldn’t have gotten you anywhere with any of the other women.

“What can I get the two of you today?” You asked, doing fine until you looked into his dark eyes. They were the color of chocolate. You could get lost in his eyes, and you almost did. You would have if the woman didn’t clear her throat, turning your attention to her. You blushed.

“I’ll have a slice of blueberry cobbler,” she said with a knowing look at you. You had only said one sentence and yet this stranger knew how you felt about her traveling companion.

“And you?” You asked, turning back to the young man. He had a dopey grin on your face that made you want to grab his face in your hands so you could kiss him. You quickly pushed the thought from your mind. “What would you like?”

“You,” he said. You froze.

“Excuse me?” 

Instantly he face went red, the color trailing down his neck. The woman tried to stifle a laugh, but it was obvious as she let out a chuckle here and there. You were mortified. You hadn’t expected that response from him, and although you liked him you were unsure how you felt about his words.

“I-I mean,” he stuttered. He was obviously embarrassed. “I meant to say whatever you would choose. I guess only one of my words came out.”

That explanation was enough to ease your mind.

“Well,” you said, “my favorite has always been (dessert).” The dopey smile returned to his face.

“I love that.”

You blushed, choosing to focus on the woman again to avoid any further embarrassment.

“If you don’t mind me asking, my lady, what is your name? Me and the other ladies couldn’t help but admire your height. You look like a fighter, not common for many ladies even though we here like to think of ourselves as such.”

The woman smiled; you realized that she must not get genuine admiration like that often.

“Brienne of Tarth,” she revealed, “and this is my squire Podrick Payne.”

Podrick, you repeated in your head. It was a lovely name.

“It was lovely to meet the two of you, Brienne of Tarth and Podrick Payne” you replied with a small nod to each. “I’ll go get those sweets for you.” As you walked off you had no idea how a blush had formed on Podrick’s face after he heard his own name fall from your lips. You also had no idea that Brienne had smirked at him, only making his blush worsen.

You brought them their desserts, keeping the conversation minimal. You longed to hear the man’s voice again, but you knew how people who came through here were. They were travelers, only staying for a day or two. People generally only came by your bakery once, so it surprised you when you saw the pair sitting in the same place the next day.

“Good morning,” you greeted the pair with a sweet smile. “Would you like the same thing today, or would you like to try something else?”

“Nothing for me,” replied Brienne. Her response was odd to you, but you decided not to say anything. 

“And you, Pod?” The nickname made him falter. He wanted to hear you say it again.

“Uh, the same thing for me. It was rather delicious yesterday.” In his head he was beating himself up over how stupid he sounded. Why must he sound so awkward when talking to you?

“Why thank you Pod, I made it myself.” You blushed at his compliment, and he blushed when you said his name again.

You hurried back to the kitchen to grab his food when the other ladies began squealing.

“Y/N, he’s back!” They exclaimed.

“Yes, I am well aware.” You stated. “I just took their orders, or rather order. Brienne didn’t want anything.”

The other girls seemed to be egged on by your statement.

“That means that he must have been the one that chose to come here!”

Your face flushed at their comments.

“Even if that were the case, I’m sure it is just for the food. We do make a delicious (dessert).”

“I bet he thinks you’re delicious,” said Aleida. You almost burned yourself on the hot oven trying to whip around so you could swat at her.

“Girls, be careful,” scolded Roslin. “Aleida, get back to work. And Y/N, get back to that boy.” She shoved the dessert plate into your hands, pushing you towards the door so you could enter the dining area again.

“Stop shoving me, I’m going!” You responded playfully. You were actually excited to see him again despite it only being minutes.

You delivered the dessert, lingering as you drank in the vision sitting in front of you. He looked at you as well, and it you didn’t know better you would have said that he was checking you out. The pair of them left soon after, leaving you to deal with teasing comments from your friends for the rest of the day.

When you didn’t see Pod the next morning, you assumed he had left town. You had to admit that you were sad, but it was expected. As you said, people don’t stay long or make too many visits. However, you caught a familiar tuft of brown hair as the lunch rush ended.

“Pod?” You called out, seeing his face pop up from the crowd.

“Y/N,” he replied with that same dopey grin you had grown to love on his features. You made your way across the room to him, restraining yourself from running your hands through his hair and wrapping your arms around him. The voice in the back of your head whispered to you that he wouldn’t mind it, but you silenced it.

You sat beside Podrick, listening as he told you stories of horses and sword fights. His experiences made him all the more attractive to you. He had seen the world, and he had fought around it. You liked hearing about this more masculine side of him, as much as you still loved the awkward Pod you had first met.

Your little chats became routine. He would stop by at least once a day, ordering some form of dessert before he left. Then one day, he didn’t ask for dessert. The longer you knew him the cockier he got, making you realize that he might not be as shy as he had seemed initially. You had offered him any type of food that he wanted, but he had declined.

“Then why are you here?” You asked, puzzled.

“That’s for you to figure out,” he said with a wink as he exited. A mere wink left you breathless. You were still as taken with him as you had been the first day you saw him.

One day you were searching for Pod in the crowd when you felt somebody grab hold of your skirts.

“Bar wench, get me some ale why don’t you?” Said the greasy older man who had a tight grip on your skirts. You moved to get him what he wanted, eager to just move away from him.

“On second thought,” said the man next to him. The second man grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him. “You’ve got a pretty face, girl.”

You felt fear flash through your body, igniting every instinct in you that told you to run.

“Let me go,” you said, trying to pull away from the group that had obviously already had enough ale.

“No, I don’t think I will.” He said, trying to pull you closer as you held your ground. “I bet you taste just as sweet as all the things you make here, don’t you?” You flushed, angry and embarrassed. “How much for a taste?” The man leaned toward you and you nearly screamed. You would have if you hadn’t heard a male’s voice.

“You take your filthy hands off her!” Yelled a man, making you look up.

“Pod?” You asked as the men released you. Podrick could be commanding when he wanted to, and he looked positively angry at the moment. If he hadn’t been protecting you, you might have even said he looked scary.

“Get out.” He growled, making the men jump up. “If you ever come back,” he yelled, “and try to lay a hand on my lady again, I’ll kill you!”

You rushed towards Podrick, burying your face in his chest as tears began to fall. Now that the ordeal was over you realized what a horrible situation you had been in. It could have ended much differently if he had not come along when he did. You felt Pod’s arms wrap around you, holding you tightly to him. His chin rested on the top of your head. 

“It’s okay Y/N, I’ve got you now.”

His voice soothed you, making you feel more comfortable almost immediately. After you calmed down, something in you made you repeat what he said over and over in your head.

“Pod, did you call me your lady?”

All of his commanding bravado faded away as a blush crept onto his face.

“Well, uh, yes. I presume that I did say that.”

“Did you mean it?” You asked quietly. You looked up at Pod, searching his eyes.

“That depends,” he replied. “Did you want me to?” You looked away, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Yes,” you murmured.

“Then yes, Y/N. I meant it. You are my lady. I will always protect you.” Podrick pressed his lips to yours briefly, but it was enough to send an shock through your bones.

“You’re my hero,” you told him. His dopey grin made its way back onto his face and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“And you’re my princess.”

@adlerorzel-blog

[helloalycia]

your secret // kara danvers

summary: It wasn't difficult to put two and two together - Kara was an alien and you knew that. Hiding the fact that you knew she was hiding this was much more difficult however...

warning/s: none.

masterlist

          Kara Danvers was strange ever since I first met her. University was full of weirdos (as I was kindly warned by my parents), but Kara was more 'strange' than 'weird'. Don't get me wrong, she was an amazing person, but certain things about her were... odd.

         We were roommates at National City University and I remember meeting her and thinking "wow, this girl is always happy". As time went on, we became closer and closer and suddenly, we were best friends. But it was in all of that time, and more, that I noticed the little things about her that were different.

         She could lift things heavier than herself, which certainly caught my attention. Then there was the fact that she would never wear oven gloves when taking things out of the oven. Or the fact that I sometimes witnessed her heating up her hot drink with lasers from her eyes.

         Honestly, at first, it was shocking, mind-blowing, unbelievable and– well, you get the hint. I was very confused (to say the least), but I eventually got over that confusion and kinda got used to it. I never asked her about it because she was obviously trying to keep this power a secret. But I did have so many questions. Mostly along the lines of "is she even human?"

         Despite the many pressing questions I had, I never pressured her or even made it noticeable that I knew of her powers. She was keeping them a secret for a reason and she would tell me when she was ready. If anything, it made her kind of adorable. She was this bundle of sunshine that was my best friend who I may or may not have had feelings for and she had powers that were beyond imaginable. Hm.

         That brought me to now. Three years later and we were roommates, again. Except this time, we lived in an apartment in National City. She was a journalist at CatCo Media and I was an English teacher at our local high school. We kept each other sane in this grown up world and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

         "Y/N, I'm leaving now!" I heard Kara call from the front door, and I immediately dropped my pencil and called back.

         "Wait! Lemme see you!"

         I jumped off my bed and went to the living-area. Our apartment was an open space, so I could see her from here, hovering by the front door. She was wearing black skinny jeans, a blue jumper and a white leather jacket that made her look very attractive.

         "Do I look okay?" she asked, biting her lower lip and glancing down at her outfit. "I'm hoping this won't be my first and last Tinder date."

         I chuckled at her uneasiness and smiled reassuringly. "You look beautiful, Kara. I'm sure this Kevin guy will say the same."

         Kara smiled bashfully and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose – a nervous habit of hers.

         "Thanks, Y/N," she said, her blue eyes meeting mine. "I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."

         I glanced at the watch on my wrist before stepping forward and opening the door for her. "You'd be late. Now go on, Danvers. You don't wanna keep Kevin waiting!"

         Her melodious laughter echoed around me and I felt the butterflies in my stomach swirl a storm at the sound of it. She leaned in to give me a quick hug before waving goodbye and leaving me alone in our apartment. When she was gone, I released a heavy sigh.

         I was happy for her, I really was... but it didn't mean it didn't hurt me a little to know that she was going on a date with somebody else. She never was good with the whole dating thing. Even in university, she didn't really find anyone she connected with. That's why this was a big deal to her now and why I was showing my utmost support. But even so, I still wished I could suck it up and ask her out.

         Barely an hour had passed when I saw something completely unexpected. I was sat in the living-room, on my laptop, planning a lesson. The TV was on, the news playing in the background. The sound of a presenter narrating a flight crashing caught my attention as I recognised the flight number as the same number Alex (Kara's sister) was flying on.

         I fumbled around for the volume button on the remote before turning it up and watching the screen with wide eyes.

         "It seems that the plane is slowing down and... wait a minute. That's a person holding it!"

         The camera zoomed in on an individual directing the plane into the water. The crash didn't look like it had hurt anyone because it was slowed down. The same figure who seemed to be strong enough to carry it down emerged from the water and stepped onto the wing of the plane. Helicopters were flying above, directing spotlights on the anonymous girl. The news reporter was babbling on about a new superhero, meanwhile, my jaw had dropped.

         It was Kara.

         The picture wasn't clear and it was dark outside, so it was hard to make out her face, but I knew it was her. She was wearing the same outfit, I recognised her hair and she was the only person I knew with super strength!

         "Holy shit," I said, unable to believe my eyes. The whole world now knew that she existed. Maybe not who she was, but they knew she was there.

         I stayed up that evening, until Kara returned from her date. As I was pacing, I realised how amazing Kara was. She saved all of those people, including Alex, and risked her life in the process. But she did it and now everything was okay. Nobody got hurt. She truly was a hero. And I was so proud of her.

         I wondered if she would share with me who she really was when she came home. Maybe she knew that I knew? Would this be when she would finally reveal her secret?

         When I heard keys rattling in the door, I sat at the kitchen counter and pulled out my phone, pretending to be using it. Kara soon walked in and squeaked with surprise when she saw me up.

         I smiled and looked up, only to act confused when I saw her soaking wet from head to toe. Though, that confirmed my thoughts of her being the girl on our TV. She was the hero.

         "Erm... bad date?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I secretly hoped she would finally tell me the truth.

         As she closed the door, I saw her smile awkwardly. "Yeah... the guy was an ass. So, I walked it home and it, uh, rained."

         I stifled the urge to laugh at her bad excuse. I figured she wasn't going to share the truth with me just yet, and I respected that, so I allowed her to come up with an excuse, despite how terrible it was.

         "Okay, well, I'll let you get cleaned up," I said, offering a small smile before heading to my room. It wasn't really private seeing as it was all open space, but it gave Kara time to think about everything.

         After she sorted everything out, I remembered the two of us watching the news and talking about this 'mysterious saviour'. Kara obviously tried her best to hide the fact that it was her, but she was just so darn excited and I couldn't help but let her ramble freely about how amazing this 'person' must have felt.

         She was bad at hiding things from me, but I let her have it because it was her secret to keep. Plus, I liked seeing her eyes light up with excitement as she recalled the events. She looked beautiful.

         Alex stopped by that evening, too, probably to check on Kara. From the looks of it, she wasn't too happy with Kara's actions. I said I'd give them some space to talk, so I never actually heard their conversation, but I could only presume it was good. I mean, why wouldn't it be?

         As time went on, Supergirl became the hero of National City. Everywhere I went, I saw the superhero that was my best friend, plastered on billboards, in magazines, on my television. She was saving people left, right and centre and I felt so proud of her. Though, she still hadn't told me the truth.

         Everything I learnt about the real her was through interviews with 'Supergirl'. I learnt she was Kryptonian and Superman's cousin when Kara interviewed, well, herself, and accidentally revealed that information. It did hurt to learn these amazing things about her through secondary sources. It made me question whether she trusted me just as much as I trusted her. Did she really think I didn't know? But I wouldn't let that bother me because something was holding her back and I had to respect that and wait until the time was right. If it ever was.

         A lot of things added up, though. She was adopted, which made sense because she was a literal alien. Whenever we were at university, she would get homesick and I would try to comfort her and make her feel better. That made sense now though. She didn't miss her home. She missed Krypton.

         I remember coming home from work one evening and finding her curled up on the couch, staring ahead at nothing. I left my coat and bag by the door and headed towards her, sitting on the couch. She was wrapped in her fluffy blanket, and barely acknowledged my presence.

         "Kara, you okay?" I asked gently, resting a hand on her lap.

         She glanced at me before moving forward and laying on my lap. A shaky sigh escaped her lips and I frowned at her discomfort. I moved her hair from her eyes and ran my hands through it soothingly. I felt her shoulders relax as I did so.

         "I miss home," was all she said.

         I knew she was talking about Krypton. About her family there. I wondered what happened. Why she came here. How old she was when she came. If she wasn't too young, then having some memories of what she once had must have been hurting her inside. And so it hurt me.

         But she didn't know I knew who she was. She didn't know, so I had to play dumb.

         "You can visit anytime, Kara," I feigned reassurance, only causing her to sigh quietly. She thought I didn't understand. I wished she knew I did.

         "It doesn't matter," she mumbled quietly.

         I frowned and looked down at her. I wished she would talk to me and not bottle everything up. I truly wished she would trust me enough to share this important part of her life with me. Not for me, but for her.

         I just wanted her to be okay.

         Surprisingly, we still remained as close as we were. She skirted the topic of discussing Supergirl and managed to avoid slipping the truth out to me. We would hang out, spend time together (which we kind of had to since we lived together), but not once did she tell me the truth about her.

         At this point, admittedly, I was growing self-conscious to our friendship. I was eighty percent sure that her close friend from work, Winn Schott, knew about her powers. There were times when I'd see the two privately discussing matters, acting secretive around me and blatantly hiding a secret which I could only presume was about her superhero status. James Olsen, another friend from her workplace, would sometimes be involved in their discussions, too. She began to spend a lot more time with the two, which made me feel a bit left out.

         Okay, a lot left out.

         I figured she trusted them more than me, but it was when she returned home late in the evening when I realised that maybe she didn't tell me because she wanted at least one person to be just Kara around.

         I was reading a book on the couch, settling in for the evening, when I heard the front door open. Presuming it was Kara, I called out to her, not looking up from my book.

         "There's some leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry."

         There was no response, so I looked up and saw the blonde hanging up her coat. It was unusual for her to not say anything; she was usually so outspoken and bubbly, so I tried to get her attention.

         "How was work?"

         She finally turned around, managing to give me a forced smile and a little thumbs up. I instantly noticed the sadness in her red eyes. She'd been crying.

         "Kara..." I dropped my book in a heartbeat and went to her, wanting to get a closer look and see if my eyes were betraying me. But no. Her eyes were glassy and the smile on her lips only showed sadness and regret.

         "I'm okay," she lied, her voice hoarse and her hand shaking slightly as she tried to motion for me to step back. "I'm–"

         "You're not okay," I breathed out, stepping forward.

         She tried to shake her head, but obviously her emotions got the best of her and she covered her mouth with a shaking hand. Tears escaped her eyes and I couldn't help but move forward and pull her into a hug. She finally let it out, no longer hiding how she felt, and my heart ached as she sobbed into my arms.

         "You're okay," I consoled her, rubbing circles on her back. "Everything is okay."

         I never did find out why she was crying that night. What could have possibly been so horrible that it caused the girl of steel to crack? To break down horribly? But it did make me realise that at that moment, she wasn't the girl of steel at all. Not Supergirl.

         She was Kara Danvers, my best friend, and she needed comforting.

***

         As time went on, Supergirl's shifts at saving the world happened to be more and more frequent. Kara was rarely around, and when she was, she was tired or had to come up with some lame, unbelievable excuse as to why she had to leave again. Yes, it was very selfish of me to wish she wouldn't have to go save lives all the time... I just wanted my best friend back, was that too much to ask for?

         But there was a time when she didn't come back. It was a Tuesday evening. I'd said my goodbye's to Kara in the morning at breakfast, as usual, before I went to work. I started earlier than her so she would make us breakfast and we'd eat together before I had to leave. But it was unusual because I hadn't heard from the blonde throughout the day. Usually she dropped a little text or gave me a call and we'd share stories of dumb things we'd done that day. But she hadn't this time.

         When I returned home after work, the apartment was empty. I figured she was doing some Supergirl stuff so I continued my evening as usual, but it was almost midnight and she was nowhere to be seen or heard. So, of course, I worried. I rang and texted, but no response. I went to sleep nonetheless (with great difficulty) and decided to see if she'd show in the morning. But nothing.

         Of course my mind thought the worst thoughts. She could have been hurt? Imprisoned? Tortured? She was Supergirl for crying out loud! Always putting herself before others. What if something terrible had happened?

         However, it was that same morning, just as I was about to leave for work, when I opened the front door to reveal Kara, appearing unharmed and slightly nervous. Upon instinct, I pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug before pulling apart and glaring at her.

         "Where on earth have you been?!" I asked angrily, though I felt slightly reassured to see she was fine.

         She smiled awkwardly and walked in, taking a look around. I knew my best friend, so I knew something was different about her when she turned around and met my gaze.

         "I had to run some, erm... errands," she blurted out unconvincingly.

         I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

         "I should have called," she admitted, but something was off. Her mannerisms were all different. They were only small details, but I could tell from them that this wasn't Kara. It couldn't be. Even if there was no logical explanation. "I'm going to be gone for a few days, Y/N."

         I raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"

         She chewed the inside of her cheek and avoided my eyes. "I'm heading to Eliza's. I need some time away for a bit. I hope that's okay."

         I studied the person who looked suspiciously like Kara. "You've never needed my permission before."

         'Kara' widened her eyes and smiled with embarrassment. "Right! I haven't." Her eyes wandered around before settling on the clock hung on the wall. "You should get going! You're going to be late."

         I knew she was right, but I wanted to know what was happening here.

         "I'll be gone when you're back, and I won't be using my phone much when I'm there, but I'll see you in a few days, yeah?" She leaned forward and pulled me in for a hug, but it was limp and forced and uncomfortable.

         This wasn't Kara.

         Whoever it was though, was correct about being gone by the time I returned home that evening. Kara's things were still there though, including her suitcase. Something wasn't right. When I tried to contact Alex, she wasn't answering her calls or texts. She only sent a single text confirming what 'Kara' said this morning – she was at Eliza's. I refused to believe that though.

         All I could do was wait and wonder where Kara was and whether she was okay. It wasn't a good feeling.

         Few days had passed and it was the weekend. I was watching TV, barely paying attention to what was playing. I felt too anxious to focus on anything. Kara's well-being wouldn't escape my mind. I knew she was practically invincible, but that didn't help ease my nerves at all. Why hadn't she contacted me? At least let me know she was okay?

         A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts and I sighed as I got up to answer it. It was probably the delivery guy – I had no effort to cook today.

         I pulled open the door and caught my breath when I saw Kara stood there. The real Kara. I knew it was her because she was smiling, only a small smile, but it reached her eyes and made her look beautiful. She was wearing a hoodie and some jeans – very unlike her. Her glasses weren't on her face and she seemed tired, but she wasn't hurt. Physically, anyway. I felt relieved.

         "Y/N," she breathed out. "Hey... I forgot my key when I left," she said as she stepped inside. "And I've just seen your calls and texts... sorry I couldn't answer. I needed some space at Eliza's for a bit..."

         I knew I was supposed to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary and as if I hadn't been worried sick about her. But I couldn't help myself as I pulled her in for a hug. She was alive and well and in my embrace.

         My arms were wrapped tight around her shoulders and I tucked my face into her neck. Her familiar and comforting scent filled my senses and I knew it was her. No doubt about it.

"I know you were only gone for a few days at Eliza's," I mumbled into her hoodie, playing the part, but not very well, "but I missed you... a lot..."

         I wasn't sure if she suspected anything, but I did feel her body relax as a sigh escaped her lips and she wrapped her arms around my waist.

         "I missed you, too," she whispered quietly. "So, so much..."

         I was curious to what happened to her and what she meant by that, but I knew it wasn't my business to ask. And I knew she wouldn't tell me either. So I suffered in silence and thanked God for bringing her back home safely.

***

         I knew of Kara's secret. She thought I didn't know. Everyone thought I didn't know. But I guess I'd become so used to the fact that she did have powers that sometimes, I forgot to play the part of the oblivious best friend.

         Kara wanted to host a dinner party at ours for her friends, and since I didn't really have a problem with that, I said yes. She'd invited James, Winn and Alex over.

         It was a relatively normal evening, honestly, but certain things would occur that I guess I didn't realise were an issue till later on...

         "Kara's been practicing, and it's actually not so terrible," I chirped, glancing at the Kryptonian with a teasing smile.

         "Hey," she argued playfully, nudging me in the arm. "My cooking isn't even that bad!"

         I raised an eyebrow and simply looked towards her sister and two friends. They all avoided Kara's threatening glare, which only proved me point.

         "I hate you all," Kara said with a shrug of her shoulders.

         "We're sorry, Kara, but Y/N is kinda right!" Winn tried to apologise. "Your cooking isn't exactly the best..."

         Kara rolled her eyes, only making me laugh at her childishness. Just in time, the alarm from the oven went off, signalling the chicken had finished cooking.

         "Come on, let's go see if you burnt it," I joked, dragging Kara to the kitchen with me. I heard her grumbling incoherently from behind which made me chuckle in response.

         I bent down to the oven and opened it, feeling the heat escape and brushing over my face.

         "Kara, can you pass us the oven gloves?" I asked, glancing up, but she merely bent down and grabbed the tray of chicken herself.

         "It's okay, I got it," she assured, pulling out the tray with her bare hands.

         I was used to this behaviour, since she was an alien and literally felt nothing, from a pinch to a burn. So used to this behaviour in fact, that I forgot it technically wasn't normal behaviour.

         "It looks pretty good," Kara complimented herself, and when I stood up beside her, I saw she was grinning like a child.

         Her smile was contagious and I found myself mirroring her expression, before checking out the chicken. Roasted to perfection, really.

         "Wow, Kara, you've actually done a good job!" I said with sarcasm dripping from my voice.

         Kara licked her lips before pouting ever-so-adorably. I gave her a knowing look.

         "Oh, Kara, you know I'm kidding," I reassured, before putting an arm on her shoulder and directing our attention to the food. "But we do have to make sure it tastes good."

         We called the others to help lay the chicken out with the rest of the food, and as we did, I couldn't help but notice the stare Alex was giving me. A puzzled expression was directed my way, and obviously, at this point, I had absolutely no idea why.

         Dinner went by smoothly, and the food was delicious, courtesy of Kara. It was when we were all cleaning the dining table and taking the pots to the sink when another fault on my part came about.

         I was washing the dishes when I heard a smash come from behind me. I turned around to see Winn (unsurprisingly), had accidentally dropped a wine glass on the floor. I rolled my eyes at his clumsiness and guilty smile.

         "Oops?"

         I suppressed the urge to smile at his dismay before continuing with the washing.

         "Kara, do you think you can–?" I began, but was cut off.

         "Already on it," she responded, and I glanced over my shoulder to see she was picking up the bits of glass with her hands.

         Another action, so simple and thoughtless that I was used to her doing. Many time, she'd cleaned up a mess, that I'd usually made, with her bare hands, so I was used to it. But once again, I forgot that this wasn't normal behaviour.

         I finished off washing the last dish before drying my hands. I saw Kara putting the glass in the bin and when she looked up, we exchanged a quick smile. The two of us headed to the living-room, where the others were chatting mindlessly. Once again, Alex was staring at me with a puzzled expression.

         The rest of the evening was pretty much that, and it was when we had said goodbye to everyone that Kara had pulled me aside.

         "What's up?" I asked the concerned blonde.

         She seemed nervous as she avoided my eyes. "Y/N..." She breathed in and out, slowly, before finally looking at me. "You know about me, don't you?"

         I certainly wasn't expecting this. She'd made no sign that she was going to talk about her secret, so I was surprised to say the least.

         "Know about you?"  

         She gave me a knowing look. "C'mon, Y/N... at first, I didn't realise. But Alex noticed today. You know I have powers. You let me take the tray out of the oven without gloves. And you've done so in the past! You watched me clean that glass up and not get cut, just as you've done in the past. You've known this whole time, haven't you?"

         I suddenly felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders as she spoke. I hadn't realised how hard it was pretending not to know until now.  

         "I knew," I admitted, offering a small smile. "I figured it out in university, Kara."

         Her eyes widened at this revelation. "What– why didn't you tell me?"

         Her blue eyes were glistening with confusion as she didn't look away once. I grew nervous as I shrugged my shoulders.

         "I'm not sure?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know, Kara, I guess I just thought, well, it's your secret to tell, isn't it? I couldn't just reveal to you that I knew you were an alien when you were obviously trying so hard to hide it."

         She seemed speechless as she finally looked away. She rubbed her head, trying to relieve some sort of tension that was building up.

         "Kara, what's wrong?" I asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.

She spread her hands in defeat, a conflicted smile on her lips. "What did I do, Y/N?"

         I furrowed my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

         She sighed heavily. "You know that Winn and James know, don't you?" I nodded. "And yet you stuck by me this whole time. You didn't get angry with me or pressure me, but I can only imagine how annoyed you would've been. Believing I didn't trust you with something like this. Especially when we tell each other everything."

         I smiled with reassurance as I looked her in the eyes. "Kara, no... at first, maybe I felt a bit jealous that you chose them over me. But I grew to understand and I don't want you feeling bad about any of this."

         "But Y/N–"

         "No," I interrupted firmly. "No more buts. Let's just move on. I know and you know I know. Everything is okay. Okay?"

         She searched my eyes for any sign of hatred or annoyance or anger, but there was none. I had no hard feelings about any of this.

         "Okay," she agreed, before smiling. "Thank you."

         I merely nodded in return. "Now... since this is finally out in the open..."

         I said nothing more as I rushed forward and hugged her as tightly as I could. She couldn't get hurt anyway, so I held her with all my strength and didn't let go.

         "All those times on the news, when I would see you fighting aliens and criminals... I thought that you wouldn't..." I closed my eyes as she wrapped her arms around me. "You would always come back. And I couldn't say a thing about it."

         "I'm sorry," she whispered, regretfully.

         I didn't know what else to say, so I just stayed there. Still and in her strong, safe embrace. Where I knew she would be okay.

[ain-t-bovvered]

14x11 Commentary (special)

Special episode where a bunch of tired and caffeinated Europeans ( plus a sleepy American) scream together, and then die and try to get on with their day ( lol AS IF)

Hello and welcome:

@purpleskiesandcherrypies  (Nat)

@dean-winchesters-bacon  (Kat)

@waywardbaby  (Zee)

@ain-t-bovvered  (Giu)

1 2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10

14x11 Damaged Gods

Giu: Ugh fuck off nick

Zee: I’m the cage

Nat: bleugh

Giu : Pardon me but M losing it, is kinky

Giu: I wanna know whats in that fucking book tho

Kat: So kinky

-Nick being an idiot sandwich

Zee: So sick of Nick

Nat : so Nick is hunting now

-Demon scum: Never been caught by a human.

-I wouldn’t call Nick a human at this point honestly.

Giu: Also how did he got hold of an angel blade, Like seriously ..... Tfw 2.0 sucks at keeping “prisoners”

Nick : Abraxas.

Oooooh my god that again. I get that he has nothing left to do, but still.

Zee: She ded

- Nick:” I don’t know, where’s the fun in that?” (about letting the demon go)

 *MMBLEGH ! STABS EYE*

[looks in the camera like in the office]

Nat: omg

- Welp that was violent.

- “Maria Prophetissima, Historia Achengeli.” Trying really hard to think that’s not supposed to be italian......because I’d have some complaints.

Giu : RED SHIRT

Zee: Giuls do I need to say it?

Nat: THE RED SHIRT OF SEX

Kat: Barely alive

- LEATHER GLOOOOOVES. YAAAAAS. also....Dean....what the fuck are you thinking uh? Ooooooh right the welding episode

Nat: Oh.. here comes the heart break

Giu: All the fucking hurt.

-Sam: “How are you feeling”

-Dean, completely dribbling around that question like a champ “Whatcha reading?”

- Sam : “We’ll find a way “  ( #369)

- Dean: “Actually I wanna go for a drive”

uh uh Don’t like the sound of that.

Zee: Always in need of his mom

- Dean : “One-on-one time with mom”

Giu : DO NOT LIKE

Kat: Sam fucking face

-Sam is us.

-Sam: “Whatever you need”

- Fuck you Dean. Don’t look like you are almost crying...fuck you

Nat: OMG THE HUG

-dEAN FUCKING FACE, DEAN FUCKING HESITANT HAND WHAT THE FUCK

Zee: Take care Sammy?

Giu : AAAAAAH THE FUCK. NO

-Sam startled face tho.

- HE KNOWS SOMETHING IS UP

Giu: THE FUCK CABIN

Zee: Still don’t like Mary, I always think she doesn’t give a fuck

- Mary: “I’ll take any excuse for a visit”

THEN WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING VISIT . YOU KNOW WHAT’S UP . THE FUCK.

Kat: She’s the worst

Nat : Sammy calls up his mom to tell her about THE HUG

Giu : “That’s sweet” WOW. BITCH HE HAS THE ARCHANGEL MICHAEL STOMPING ABOUT IN HIS MIND. 

- Sam: “ We don’t hug” .... well...only if it’s literally the end of the world.  SO HEALTHY.

Mary : “We have to respect that” 

 fuck oOOOOOFF you are his mom you don’t have to respect shit when your son has an archangel in his mind.

-Sam paranoia rising up because some books are missing.

-Ok but I love this shot, it’s so pretty.

[Food Splatter] Dean: “OH MY GOd”

-Oh my god indeed

Zee & Nat : DONNAAAAAA

- She’s so pretty!!! I love her so much.

[Dean licking his finger] ..... DOOOON’T STAPH IT

Nat : Dean has a big mouth

Giu: KINK!

Zee : Nat really…

Nat : have you seen the bite he took?!

Giu: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- The place is called “The hungry beaver” 

yeah ok come on.

- AAAAh so great to hear from the girls tho.

Also Dean’s avoiding all the questions he knows that are coming like a pro Winchester.

- Donna: “Last month, we took down a Vetala nest”

Dean’s impressed face.

- Dean:” Get out of town......Good for her”

- Awww the question about Dough tho. He’s avoiding questions ok but he’s so cute asking about that

Zee & Nat : Freaking news letter

Giu : I swear they have a what’s up chat like us.

Kat : No doubt

- Lol also I think Jensen has a runny nose while shooting these scene, lol the tissue.

- Dean: “ - without seeing my D-Train”

Nat: SO DEAN'S A HUGGER NOW

Kat: farewell tour

Giu : OH SHUT UP WHAT IS THIS NOW?!? THE MEMORY LANE BEFORE TUNING OUT? DEAN!

- HIS FUCKING FACE SHUT THE FUCK UP I CAN’T

-God do I ship them tho. I need some DonnaxDean asap ok ( tag me people)

Nat : I hate this so much. Can I burn this episode already?

Giu: Yes *hands the matches*

- way to ruin perfectly good pumpkins Mary . I guess you wouldn’t know what to do with them anyway....like....idk....pumpkin pie or some shit for your son....who loves pies....remember.....whatever I don’t even know why I’m trying anymore.

Nat : "We could call Sam over" and have a freaking party

- Dean: “I don’t wanna Sam here”

- RUDE

Giu: “EVerYtHinG aLrIghT?”

- Dean: “ I’m HANGRY “ lol 

Giu: Not much of a cook

Zee: You’re not much of an anything

Giu: WELL NOT SHIT

- WINCHESTER SURPRISE . THE FUCK IS THAAAAAT

- Mary :”I can’t believe you remember that”

- I can’t believe you remember you have kids.

Nat: YOU CAN'T REMEMBER A LOT OF THINGS BITCH. DEAN REMEMBERS EVERYTHING, ALRIGHT.

Kat: He really does

Nat: Can I cry now

Giu: MY HEART IS POUNDING

Zee: ...in my ears

- Dean: “Delicious heart-attack on a plate. I would like mine with extra cheese”

- Extra cheese horny face

- ...AND PIE!

-The P O S T E R S

Giu: OMFG..... I’m already dreading the meta on that poster

 ( in a positive way  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  )

- [ M still trashing around ]

Kat: This song. Damn it

- *The Guess Who’s “No Time” playing*

Giu: OH COME ON, A LEATHER APRON, AND LEATHER GLOVES.

Zee: Fuck me sideways

Kat : All the damn ways

Nat: I AM AROUSED . IN THE MORNING. WHY AM I AROUSED (08:46 a.m )

- “I found myself some wings”  

Are *claps* you *claps* fucking *claps* kiddin’ *claps* me?

-when he tilt his head to make the mask falls down.

- the jacket popped collar....YAAAS

Giu: Fucking hell.

- I can’t deal with that poster and the sparks....I CAN’T

I CAAAAAAN’T

Nat: EVEN HIS LEGS ARE SEXY…..OK BUT FUCK ME

Giu: NO FUCK ME

Kat: HE’S THE ENERGIZER BUNNY HE CAN FUCK US ALL

Kat: SO MUCH WELDER!DEAN

Zee: Somebody write that shit

- And tag us thank

Giu: “ that’s new...YOU BUYING FOOD” wow…...WOOOOW. How the fuck does she live.

- whiskey, pumpkins and crosswords puzzles. WOW Mary living the life.

*Nick appears*

Giu & Nat : NO

Zee: Oh hello

Giu &Nat : FUCK OFF

- Nick: “Thanks for nothing , pal”

well Nick...ya creepy van doesn’t really scream FRIENDLY NEIGHBOR FORMER SATAN

Nat: Oh, Donna's going to show up

Zee: My girl stepping in

Kat: THIS BITCH BETTER NOT TOUCH MY GIRL…..Why am I yelling, I already know what happens

Giu: *john’s Mulaney Trump voice* OH IF HE SO MUCH TOUCH ONE FUCKING HAIR ON HER. I want him to do it , I want- I dare him to do it, I fucking swear , I’m fucking crazy.

- Nick picking up the clip.... * STREET SMARTS*

- Don’t- don’t try to outsmart my girl , it’s pathetic

- Donna:”What’s your name”

  Nick: “Nunya” 

oh....OH WOW do ya want to make the nun ya business joke to Donna...? WOW

 Nick: “ First name: eat. Last name: Me”

Oh wow that’s- that’s just sad.

Zee: Can I say that I love her pushing him like that?

Giu: OOFTA

Nat: of course this happens

Giu: YASP ( YAS + GASP )

Kat&Zee&Nat : NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Nat: Just how long had Mary been away that it's already so late

Giu: She needed to remember how food work

- Mary smile is the only thing we have in common right now

Nat: That SMILE

Giu: Dean is the better mom. LOOK AT HIM. DOMESTIC NESTING DEAN KINK!

Zee: Oven mittens. Ya think?

Nat: "Something is going on" YA THINK?

- Sam is already on his way , no surprises there.

- Dean: “ he’s soaking wet, he’s pulling bologna, and sliced cheese out of his pants. So me, being the big brother, I’m the cook. I took all that bologna, all that sliced cheese and I put it onto a hot plate.It stunk up that room so bad. Dad comes home and he’s so mad, he picks up everything, chunks it into the trash, probably remained him of you....”

Giu: JOHN A + parenting, but also....I love the glimpses on their past, I really do.

Giu: What he made?

Nat: the winchester special? winchester surprise

Giu:Looks nasty..... I WANT IT 

- Mary trying to talk about how much she had missed.... yeah yeah you were dead it’s not that it’s your fault. 

- AND HERE ...look I don’t like Mary but Samantha did an amazing job, like....good lord

- Dean:”But you are here now”.

....well....in the fuck cabin , yes she is.

- Dean: “ Mom that meant everything to me” 

- Dean: “ There is no clouds on the horizon”  fucKING LIAR

*SOBS*

- Mary:”Whatever you are going through , you can talk to me”

Dean : *DIMPLES OF DISCONTENT* 

Zee: I don’t wanna talk about it

Giu: Please

- The Winchester motto

Dean *snores*

us : AAAAAAAAAAAW PRECIOUS

- I’m mary’s face 

Nat: She didn't even offer him a bed tho

Giu: I don’t think Dean wanted the fuck bed tho

-Mary snooping around, yes thank you, do something right.

- Mary: “Oh..no...no no no “ WHAAAAAAT

Dean smacking mouth while sleeping is giving me ex ptsd

Giu: OH FUCK PFF

Kat: Freaking creep

Giu: My cereal are soggy af. I can’t even eat. Also....WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT DISGUSTING LAMP.

- This shot is beautifuuuuul 

- [ 007 theme music plays ]

Nat: SAMMEEHHHHH

- Sam: “Hey Woah EASY”

Giu: CREEPY RAPE VAN

Zee: Come in. I’ve got candy

- Of course the demons keep track of the Winchesters. Are you kidding? they need to get the fuck out before they get to them lol, pussies.

Giu: “Nick what are u doing” ….we are whispering that since day fucking 1

Nat: Can we just burn that van? with them inside?

Kat: As long as they’re both in it

Nat: Dean'd hate us tho

Giu: ooooh he’ll get over it , *bad italo-american accent*  don’t worry about it

- Mary:” You could’ve just ask me” 

she’s not wrong.

- Mary : I took a demon and put it in a box and then I put that box into another box and then I put that box into a bigger box and then-

HONESTLY WHAT THE FUCK OK.

Giu: I swear Nick’s story is stale af. Like...Mark is soooo good and he’s the reason lucifer arch stayed that long , i’m sad if he go out spn but lucifer needs to end.

Nat: Mark is really good tho, But yes, it's enough.  Sam's hair is fucking great.

Zee: True story

- Can Sam stop taking blame for other people bullshit already?

- oooh a storage room with traps like John

- Well that was a weak ass locket

- Mary’s storage : A pickled head, some creepy ass doll, mother instincts, a powerful demon trapped inside an enochian box.

Giu: Ok but...honestly who fucking cares tho...just give him the damn demon so he can fuck off. And shut the fuck up the both of ya.

Kat: Okay but if he’d just think about the answer to his question it’s so fucking obvious

Zee: A demon needs a host

Giu: put it in a fucking mice whatever

- Dean: “ Nick is not a project. He’s not a freaking puppet “

WE’VE BEEN KNEW

- Sam: “Since when do we give up on people?”  aaaw Sam never did but Dean needs to be there to balance ok. And anyway they saved Jack so , but yeah, some people are past the point of saving, even more when they don’t want to be saved. OOOOH IS THIS FORESHADOW????

- That poor man tho.

Zee: She dum

Kat : THEY BOTH ARE

Giu: Even Jack is smarter

Nat: Mary and Nick would make a good couple

Zee: NO DON’T

Kat: Ew

Giu: After all those years can’t he read enochian? I mean….I’d pick up one thing or two like….

- Can’t they use that box for Michael?

*Nick drills a hole in it*

welp....never fucking mind

Giu: WELL THAT WAS STUPID. the fuck, one could think that a damn enochian box would be more resilient. Nope...just ...drill into it

Zee: You just read what you wrote right??

Giu: Yep. Your dirty minds do the rest

Kat: I like this demon

- [lucifer is dead] Abraxy “ Is he?...cool”

Nat: I love this demon too

Nat :Stop the whining

Giu: Omg Mark your acting tho

- Sam’s commander voice : GeT aWaY frOm her

- oompf

Kat: Damn it, she’s saved

- Goddamn it Nick

- Abraxy :” Lucifer planned the whole thing”

[us looking at Nick like we are in the office] 

- This cracks me up so much...I couldn’t stop laughing while making this gif. The more you look at it , the funnier it gets.

Giu: Oh that was ...kinda hot. DEAN NAUGHTY

Nat : DEAN'S SEXY WHEN HE SPEAKS LATIN. a new kink i never knew I had

Giu : *hearing some italian sounding words* DAMN RIGHT. Welcome to my world Nat.

Zee: Sam pant

Nat: Never not sexy

Giu: H.O.T.

- Nick killing who killed his family and getting his “revenge”

Giu: is Nick finished being a fucking twat.

- Donna saves the day like the badass bitch that she is

Sam: “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, I’m sorry I didn’t know how “

Nick: “It’s not about you Sam, It’s never about you. You couldn’t fix me ‘cause I don’t want to be fixed. I was never broken”

Zee&Nat&Giu : I was never broken

Giu: Oh shut up all of you

- Sam:”Yes Nick, you are. I don’t feel sorry for you, Nick. I feel sorry for the people you hurt, the people you murdered, the people whose faces will hunt you, everynight, for the rest of your life.”

Nat&Kat: You can burn

Giu : That was hot and painful Sam, thank

- Mary: “I know what have you been building, planning. And we are gonna talk about that. We are all three of us,gonna talk about that. So if you don’t tell Sam....I will

Giu: OH WOW FOR ONCE SHE DONE RIGHT

- Dean: “It’s a Mal’ak box”

-COOL....I DON’T LIKE IT

Nat :FUCK. WHAT.WHAT?

Zee: A CAGE OF SORTS

Giu: IS HE GONNA FUCKING. NO. FUCK

Kat : MY SMART BABY

Giu: No ...no smart….that is masochist. THAT’S TERRIBLE

Nat: Does he want to buried alive, oh yeah, Sam just said it. NO

Kat: Worse.

Giu: WHAT THE FUCK

Zee: DROP HIM IN THE PACIFIC??

Nat: HE WANTS TO KILL HIMSELF

Giu: HE WILL NOT DIE THO. THIS IS SO MUCH WORSE, IM NOT EVEN GONNA GET OFF CAPS.

Nat: WELL, HE WILL SOONER OR LATER

Giu: BUT WOULDN’T M KEEP HIM ALIVE THO

- Sam: “You and Michael, trapped...for eternity?”

- Dean: “It’s the only sane play I’ve got”

- Dean:” The door is giving. I can feel it giving”

Kat: NO DEAN WINCHESTER YOU SHUT YOUR FACE. I LOVE YOU FOR TRYING

Nat: SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH

- Dean banging a fist on the box is like he just punched my heart ok

-We all are Sam

- Sam:”Since when do we believe in fate?”

 Yall literally met her

Giu: DID HE JUST…...FUCK U

Nat:: I DON'T WANNA WATCH. BURN THIS EPISODE.BURN IT

- Dean: “ Sam you are the last person I could tell, the last person that I could be around. ‘Cause you are the only one that could’ve talked me out of it. And I won’t be talked out of it. I won’t. I’m doing this”

Zee: IM SCARED

Kat :OMG IM CRYING AGAIN

Nat: SAMMY'S HURTING SO BAD. DEAN AVOIDS SAM CUZ SAM IS THE ONLY ONE WHO COULD STOP HIM.

Giu: I FEEL SICK

Kat: OUR BOYS

yeah great this feels like the soul bomb and Amara bullshit, FUCKING GREAT.

Giu: THE MUSIC. FUCK THIS MUSIC.

- Sam starting to understand that Dean is “right”

- Dean:” You could let me do it alone, or you could help me” 

ARE YOU FUCKING KID-

- Sam: “All right”

me: *splutters*

Zee :REALLY??!!!

Zee : All right??!!! ALL RIGHT??

Nat:  FUCK I WILL NEVER STOP SCREAMING

Kat : The end.

Giu: Of my life , the end ….

Nat: WHAT THE FUCK. YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME.

Giu: *scrambles to see the next promo*

Zee: Yeets behind you

Nat: I'M NOT OK. SOMEONE HOLD ME.

Kat: Always talk about how good Jensen is. Jared fucking killed me here

                                [After the 14x12 promo]

Giu: ...OK WHAT THE FUCK

Nat: NO, YEAH.. STILL NOT OK AFTER THE PREVIEW

Kat: Okay so preview. I think they are just trying out the box

Giu: what the fuuuuck. That’s horrible

Zee: Did he do it for real??

Giu: It’s Dean...he was deadly serious

Zee: Yeah!! Next episode. Don’t want that

Kat: I don’t think they’ll dump him yet,but something obviously goes wrong. I don’t want to wait a week but also don’t really want it to come

Giu: Did Dean seriously asked Sam to stay on the fucking phone until what?!

Zee: He ded? Sank? Dropped?

Kat : STOP IT

Giu: Anyway I’m still positive that M grace will keep Dean alive

Zee: In the box??

Giu: I mean he did tell Jack they would have been together for eons. His body at least. I mean dean’s mind can get shoved somewhere . But since M is a sadistic motherfucker , I bet he would make Dean feel everything. While keeping his vessel alive.

Kat: Of course he would. He made him drown inside his own head

Zee: We need the body too. Not sorry. Yeah but for how long ?

Giu: Well he can’t get out. I doubt Micheal would kill himself.

Zee: True. But also stay trapped for ever?

Giu: M is patient

Kat: I feel like that would be a fate worse than death for him. But he is patient af

Giu: I need to go have a jog because my whole body is wired up in tension

Zee: I need to crumble in a corner and slowly die

Kat: I can’t sleep, I’m all riled up again

Nat: * is trying to clock in at work*

. Well well WHAT A FUCKING RIDE.

WE HATED IT.

.

.

If you want to get tagged in the future ones send an ask HERE or to @waywardbaby or a smoke signal, idk whatever I’m tired af.

TAGS: @supernatural-teamfreewillpage  @destiel-honeypie   @mariekoukie6661   @dragontamerm    @closetspngirl @rainflowermoon @mattiecat   @bunnybaby121115 @aliaitee2 @jacks-word-of-the-day @4evamc  @dammitsammy @legendary-destiel @winchesterprincessbride

[marsmoonqueen]

Broken Wings and Scarred Backs

Castiel x Winchester!Reader

Warning:  Insecurities, a hurt Castiel, mentions of scars and wounds, this thing is bloody long and my writing.

Prompt / Summary: Castiel and the reader show each other’s insecurities and talk about it.

Note: So, this thing -as I already said- is bloody long, so, I’m sorry about that. Btw, I’m sorry for the heartbreaking GIF.

“Castiel, buddy. Are you alright?” Sam asked his angel friend while Dean and Y/n waited for his answer.

They noticed that the angel has been distracted since the hunt the night before, where one of his brothers had hurt his wings; Castiel, in the other hand, felt lost in agony, he was tired and the pain made him feel dizzy, but not wanting to bother the 3 Winchesters he simple said “Yes… I’m fine.”

Sam and Dean decided to leave him be, give him space and don’t ask again; and with a forced smile, they took all their suitcases and putted them in ‘Baby’ while their sister continued to gaze at the angel.

“Are you sure Cas? You look in pain.” The girl inquired.

Castiel just gave her a sad smile. He told her not to worry about him as they walked out of the hotel’s room and into ‘Baby’.

 A week passed since then and the angel seemed to be worse. Sometimes Y/n would even swear that he was crying in the middle of the night, but as soon as her steps came closer to the door, the crying stopped and every time she opened the door she saw a fake sleeping Cas.

Before the next hunt, the hunter told her brothers about her worries and together decided that she and the seraph would stay at home, so she could investigate and help their featherly friend.

 “Where are Sam and Dean?” Castiel asked entering the kitchen a morning after the brothers left. He was in such a state of pain that he had not noticed the fact that they were gone.

“Went for a salt and burn case, they should be back tomorrow or so” Y/n answered as she walked away from the oven and closer to the angel.

The angel had just enough time to nod before his pain made him feel distracted.

“Cas” The girl said. “Cas” But again there was no response.

Y/n came closer to him, touched his shoulder and tried to make eye contact.

“Cas, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong” She informed him when their eyes finally met.

“It’s nothing Y/n. I just…”

“Don’t lie to me, please.” The hunter interrupted him. “C’mon Castiel, let me help you.  Tell me what’s bothering you.” Continued her with a worry expression.

The angel shyly looked at the floor as he whispered “My wings.”

“What’s wrong with them Cassie?” She gently asked as her gaze softened.

“They are hurting me” Castiel answered her as he closed his eyes and a tear escaped free.

The girl placed a finger on his tear and exanimated it with a sad expression. Was it that bad?

“How? Why?”

“I don’t know” He said defeated. He couldn’t see them completely so he did not know what the problem behind his back was.

“Let me see them, then I’ll tell you what the matter behind you is”

“NO!” Castiel shouted with worry. He did not wanted her to see the mess he had made with his wings. In another occasion, he would have gotten excited to have a reason to show the girl he loved his magnificent wings. But now? No way.

“Why not Cas?”

“Because no, Y/n.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Dean uses it all the time.”

“Dean is a jerk, now, show me your wings.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Tell me a good reason!  And maybe, and just maybe, I’ll think about it.”

“Because of how horrible they look, okay?!  They are burned, broken, parts of they do not have feathers. Is really that what you want to see? Broken horrendous wings? Because that’s the least thing I want you to see of me!” Castiel snapped. The wings for the angels were their pride. And he couldn’t be more ashamed of his.

“Cas, no, I bet they are beautiful, they just need care and love, let me see them.” The girl spoke softly.

“No. Y/n. No.”

The girl stayed in silence watching her angel until she had an idea. “So… you are ashamed of them?” She asked with a hurt look in her face. She knew what wings meant for the angels and seen her favorite one hurt and ashamed of his made her want to cry.

Castiel did not say anything and just kept his eyes glued to the floor.

“Why don’t we make a deal?” The hunter’s question got him out of his trance. “If you show me your wings, I will show you the part of my body which I’m ashamed of the most.”

A part of her body? Ashamed of the most? But she was beautiful! How could she be ashamed of something of hers? That kind of question started hunting Cas.

“What?” He said astonished.

“Yeah, what you heard. So, do we have a deal?”

Cas exanimated her for a second.

“What part of yourself could you be possibly ashamed of?” He asked concerned.

“Well, say the word and find out.”

“May we go to a more private place?” The angel nearly begged.

“It will be as you wish.” She understood what it felt like being ashamed of something that you could hardly change. So she comprehended why he wanted a place where they couldn’t being easily seen.

They walked to Y/n’s room and after closing the door, Castiel stopped in the center of the room.

“Okay, just… give me a second.” Painfully and slowly he started to undress his chest until he was shirtless. “Close your eyes, I don’t want to hurt you.” And just when he was sure her eyes wouldn’t burn, a blinding light came from behind him. Then a scaled version of his wings could be seen. They were huge even when they were already minimized from their real size.

“You can open them now.” Cas mumbled with tears in his eyes, giving her a last look before she turned to him and he dropped his gaze to the floor.

His wings, despite being hurt and a little burned, were magnificent, big and breathtaking.

“O-Okay, so, why don’t you sit over there and I sit on the bed?” She pointed at a chair.

Cas nodded but she was the one that moved everything in place, arguing that he shouldn’t do unnecessary work. That brought a big smile to Castiel’s face.

After moving into their seats she inspected -without touching- his wings; complimenting them as much as she could with comments like: ‘Their color is beautiful’, ‘they look so soft’, ‘I bet they are so strong’, ‘how many battles have been won because of them?’ that made Castiel blush and sometimes giggle.

“Please Cassie, extend them so I can see your back.” Fearfully and slowly Castiel obeyed, letting the girl see a scratched back and a better view of his feathers that were tangled in some places.

“Jesus Cas! You have an enormous scratch in the base of your wings.” She got closer. “There’s a purple liquid in your wound.” She finally informed.

There are not enough words to describe how ashamed and fearful Castiel felt. In his mind billions of possible reactions from her were playing and it didn’t matter how they went, in every single one of the she had a look of disgust in her face.

With tears in his eyes and still giving her his back, he was about to talk when she interrupted him.

“Okay, what we are going to do is… I… I’m going to clean this in the mundane way; alcohol and a clean gauze, then I will untangle your feathers.” She said as she got out of the bed and knelt in front of her angel, holding his hands that rested on his lap. “Cas, I have to touch your wings, I know angels don’t like other people doing so, but that liquid seems to not let your wounds heal. Maybe you were scratched with it so you wouldn’t recover. Please Cas, would you let me touch your wings?” Y/n really didn’t want to do something that he was uncomfortable with, but it was bloody necessary.  

“Yes, you have my permission to touch my wings.” The angel told her, looking at her eyes.

What she said was true, the angel usually hated that somebody else touched their wings, but Castiel wanted her to do it. Just her, nobody else. He couldn’t imagine how heavenly her touch might feel.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not noticed the girl going to her bathroom and coming back with a first-aid kit. It wasn’t until she touched his neck while she was sitting behind him that he reacted.

“Okay Cassie, I’m going to start, feel free to scream if it gets too unbearable.”

And with that the girl putted an alcohol soaked cotton in his back wound; when the cotton came in contact with the purple fluid, it became black, and when it touched the girl’s skin she screamed.

“Son of a bitch!” The fingers that had held the cotton were red, from where the purple –now black- thing had burned her.

“What is it? Are you okay Y/n?” Castiel asked alarmed, but noticed a slight relieve.

“Yes, yes, it’s nothing Cassie, it’s just that… that thing is hot” She lied. ‘That thing’ was like bloody acid in her skin. He tried to move to look at her face, but she touched his shoulders. “Relax Cassie, it’s nothing, for real. Let me finish this. The place that I cleaned looks so much better now.” And that wasn’t a lie; His skin was a little red, but the wound was starting to close. That was a good new.

Biting her lip and fighting her tears back, the girl continued cleaning his back as she felt her fingers were going to dissolve, and at the same time, Cas fought his own battle trying not to scream too loud or cry too hard, even though it hurt like hell.

With a quick “I’m finish” the girl took all the black contaminated cottons and the kit to the bathroom, throwing them away, not before giving Cas a kiss in his temple.

 The angel took this time to rest, he felt his grace doing its job, and ten minutes later he was better, his wings still felt uncomfortable because the feathers were tangled since he couldn’t groom them in the past few days. But the pain was gone.

 Just in that moment, he realized that the girl was still in the bathroom, so he got up and went there. When he opened the door his smile faded for he saw the young hunter trying to take away her pain in the fingers, as fast as he could, he placed his fingers in her wrist healing her acid-caused wounds.

“You did not have to do that.  Forgive me, for I was so drown in my pain that I did not noticed that you were getting hurt because of me.” He said, traveling his fingers from her wrists to her hands, holding both of them between his, locking his teary eyes with hers.

“It’s okay. You healed me, now everything is okay.” She calmed him as she hugged him.

They stayed like that for some minutes, until as she rubbed his sides, she touched a feather and Cas moaned.

“C’mon Cassie, lets groom your wings.”

And then, an hour later, after a lot of Castiel’s moans, his wings were done.

“Now is your turn.”

“Mmmh?  I don’t have wings Cassie, you can’t groom them.” She giggled.

“No. Is your turn to show me your part.”

“Oh, you mean my flaw?”

“No, I do not believe that you possess a flaw. I was talking about the part of yourself that you are senseless ashamed of.”

“Senseless eh? You won’t think the same when you see it.”

Without replaying but with a frown on his face, Castiel turned around still sitting on the chair. Y/n took off her blouse, leaving her just in her bra, to reveal a scarred belly and the she turned around to show her back with even more scars and healed wounds.

“Now you see?” She asked with an empty voice.

He ignored her question. “May I touch them? Your scars I mean.”

“Yeah”

He stayed half an hour touching her back, asking for the story of her scars and tracing them, complimenting the girl just like she did before, and telling her how brave and strong she was.

After a while he just kissed her right shoulder and hugged her from behind, kneeling in her bed.

“I don’t see why you are ashamed, you should be proud, this are battle memories, you are such a warrior.”

“A lady shouldn’t have scars.”

“But a woman gets them from her life battles” He said as he laid down in the bed, still hugging her from behind. The girl turned around facing him, pressing their foreheads together, tangling their legs and with Castiel’s wings wrapped around her.

“If it is necessary I will tell you how beautiful you are everyday.” He told her locking their eyes.

“So will I”

 When the Winchesters arrived home the next day in the morning and looked for their sister and their friend, they found them both asleep in each other’s arms.

[icebirdsmateforlife]

reach for the sky (part 1)

Sid works a shitty job and uses his free time to put workout videos on the internet. Geno does the same, from the other side of the world.

A/N: Hello! :) Anybody still here? I promised new fic, and I finally have something for you. This is part 1 of a multichapter story and I’m going to update it as frequently as I can manage. Chapter 1 is just over 3k. Low rating, but it’s most likely going up to Explicit in future parts. This is going to be a SidGeno fic, of course, but there will be mentions and later an appearance of an ex-boyfriend/sometimes-hookup, just in case that’s not your thing. Okay, I think that’s it. Special thanks to @sheepassisted for the encouragement. And thank you also to everyone who’s sent me nice messages while I was gone, that really meant a lot. <3

“So,” Sid says, smiling into the camera. “You guys did a great job, making it through the whole thing. Let me know if there’s anything specific you’d like to work on and I can put something together for you in one of my next videos. Have a great day, and I hope to see you back next week.”

He’s been saying those same sentences so many times by now it comes out on autopilot, and he knows it probably sounds a little rehearsed, but he still gets enough views on his channel. So all things considered, it probably doesn’t matter that much. He gets himself a bottle of water from the kitchen and leans back against the counter — he’s going to have to get in a proper, longer workout for himself later, but doing these little videos is fun. More than he’d expected when he started doing them, honestly. It’s fun to do something that he hopes will inspire at least a few people.

He doesn’t bother showering. He’s headed for the gym anyway once he’s watched through the video to make sure it’s usable. He doesn’t usually do a lot of editing, unless he screwed something up during the routine and has to start over. But today’s video should be fine; just a quick fifteen-minute thigh workout for beginners.

His phone rings, and he goes to pick it up off the coffee table.

“Hey, Flower,” he greets, and takes another long drink of water.

“Dinner tonight,” Flower says without greeting. “7pm, my place. Bring wine.”

Sid laughs. “What if I have plans?”

Flower huffs out a breath. “You will cancel them. It’s rude to turn down a dinner invitation from your best friend.”

Sid doesn’t have plans, and he doesn’t feel like cooking either, so this works out rather well. He also doesn’t feel like being alone. “Don’t you teach yoga until 7?” he asks, and Flower sighs.

“Cancelled. Burst pipe in the wall. Looks like we won’t be able to use the room for at least a week.”

“Oh. Well, that sucks.” Sid puts down his water. “Is it just the yoga studio, or -”

“The rest of the gym is fine,” Flower assures him. “You can go work out right now like I know you want to.”

“Okay,” Sid says, relieved. “I’ll see you at 7, okay?”

“See you then,” Flower says. “Don’t forget the wine,” and hangs up.

Sid smiles, drops his phone onto the couch, and gets his camera. He has a video to check and upload and then he can go and have some fun. He also has to put all the furniture back where it belongs, since the only way to have enough space for all this in his tiny apartment is to shove everything to one side of the room, allowing him to film in front of the empty wall by the window. It’s not the most convenient, but it works.

***

There are a lot of things that Sid enjoys about doing his videos. Reading through the comments isn’t usually one of them. But it’s a necessary part of this whole thing, since he needs to know if what he’s doing is helpful at all, or if anyone has comments or requests.

It’s not that he gets any hate in those comments. Most of them are very nice, just the usual “great workout!!” or “I’ve been doing this every day for a week and I’m feeling much better already, thanks!” He likes those. It’s why he’s doing this. To help people feel better in their own bodies, especially people who maybe can’t afford a gym membership or anything like that. People should be able to do stuff and learn about ways to exercise without having to pay money they might not have. Exercise is for everyone, after all. So, yeah. Most of the comments are really nice. It’s the few that comment directly on the size of his arms or butt and specific things they’d want to do with them that make him uncomfortable. Luckily, he’s learned to mostly ignore them when they happen.

He’s back home early and has some time before he needs to leave for Flower’s place, which is just down the block anyway. So he settles in with his laptop and finally tackles the comments from last week’s video: a simple 20-minute core strength workout.

It’s all a lot of the same. The nice stuff that makes him smile, and then there’s one request for a cardio routine that makes him wince — he’ll do it but it’s not his favourite thing to do — and one comment in what looks to be Russian, judging by the letters. And because it might be something important, some legitimate criticism or maybe another request, he copy and pastes it into Google translate.

“Nice workout,” it says. “I’ve been looking for something like this and it’s perfect. Thank you and greetings from Russia! Sorry, my English isn’t good. Maybe I’ll study for next time.”

Sid smiles. He’s not one of the popular people on YouTube and having a viewer from all the way across the planet is kind of nice. He types a message into the translator, “Thank you for watching! I appreciate it. Let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to record next!” and copy and pastes it into a reply. He doesn’t do replies often, but he wants to this time.

***

“Did your ass get even bigger since I saw you two days ago?” Flower greets him, pulling him into a quick hug and then slapping his butt as Sid walks past him into the house.

“Haha,” Sid says, and hands Flower the wine. “What’s for dinner?”

He likes hanging out here, in Flower’s small house. It’s comfortable and welcoming and he’s been here a lot since he moved into the city and met Flower. Who immediately took him under his wing and befriended him with a determination that Sid truly admires. Sid has other friends, but he sometimes thinks he’d be lost without Flower.

“Hi, Sid,” Vero says, and Sid smiles at her and hugs her, too. She moved in not that long ago, and he’s still getting used to her being here when he comes over to hang out. She’s nice and he likes her and considers her a friend, but it feels like Flower is settling down, maybe starting a family soon. He’s a few years older than Sid, but the thought still makes Sid’s head spin a little bit. He still feels like he barely even has his life together, still struggling to even pay rent some months, and his best friend has a house and a career and is probably going to get married in the not too distant future, to the same girl he’s been dating since he was a teenager. It’s all so stable and safe and grown up. It’s not that Sid is jealous, but...okay, maybe he is a little bit jealous.

“We’re ordering pizza,” Flower says. “I was going to make chicken casserole, but I think the oven’s broken.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Sid says.

Flower waves a hand. “We still got a microwave until we can have it repaired,” he says. Sometimes Sid envies his ability to always stay positive no matter what.

It’s a nice evening — the pizza is good, the wine is good too, and Vero has the best stories about the customer’s at the small boutique she works at.

And yet Sid can’t help feeling a little down all through dinner, and even when they move to the couch to keep talking until a second bottle of wine is gone as well.

It must be nice, he thinks, to have somebody to come home to. Somebody who is happy to see you. He’s never lived with anyone like that and hasn’t even dated in...well over a year now, and he’s lonely.

But at least he has friends who love him, and he knows that’s worth a lot. So he keeps smiling and ignores the worried looks Flower keeps throwing him.

***

It’s a little after 10 when he gets home that night and finds he accidentally left his laptop open earlier. He just means to close it, but when the screen wakes up as his finger brushes the touchpad, he thinks it can’t hurt to refresh the open page just once to see how many views he got on his new routine so far.

There are a few already, but also a notification. He has a message. He doesn’t get messages often.

When he sits down on the couch and opens it, the profile photo is the same one from the Russian commenter earlier, but this time, the message is in English.

“Hello Sidney,” it says. “Sorry bad English. You are very nice. I like video. Watch more from you, also very nice. I write you to practice English. Sorry if this strange. But I like your video. Have a nice day. Greetings. Evgeni.”

Sid reads it, then reads it again, and then hits reply. He may not reply to comments much, but with messages he always makes a point of writing back to people to say thanks or give advice if they ask for it. Evgeni’s message definitely deserves a thank you.

“Hi Evgeni,” he writes. “I’m glad you like my workouts. And don’t worry, your English is fine. Way better than my French for sure. I hope you have a nice day too and I hope to see you back here in the future.”

He hits send, then puts his laptop down and stretches his arms up over his head, stretching out his back before he gets up and heads towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. He has to be at work early tomorrow to open up the store. He’s not really looking forward to it — hates his job, to be honest — but he does have bills to pay and food to buy so it’s not like he has a choice. So as much as he’d love to stay on the couch for another half hour and listen to this podcast about random funny facts that he’s found a few weeks ago, it’s definitely bedtime for him.

***

There is a new message when he checks his phone over breakfast the next morning. It’s from Evgeni. Apparently he took Sid’s “I hope to see you back here” as an invitation to keep talking to him, and Sid can’t really say he minds. He likes talking to people. And he admires Evgeni’s dedication to learning English.

“Thank you Sidney,” Evgeni writes. “I’m glad you think my English not so bad. I’m work hard, try be better. But not have people for talk with English, so maybe much is wrong. You say to ask if there’s video we want. I’m think do some warm up maybe. Is very important. People forget sometimes. Greetings from Evgeni. Have a nice day.”

Sid thinks about it. It’s not actually a bad idea. He always focuses on the actual workouts; he’s mentioned the importance of warming up and cooling down a number of times, but he’s never actually made any videos for it.

He hits reply and writes back.

“Hey Evgeni, that’s a great idea, thank you! I’m going to think of something and put together a video. Two videos I guess. One for warming up and one for cooling down? I think there should be both. You’re right, people shouldn’t forget about it. Thanks again, I appreciate your input. Have a great day too!”

He has no idea what time it even is in Russia, but when he thinks about it he realises that Evgeni lives in the future and it must be the middle of the day for him already. Whatever. It’s never too late to wish somebody a good day.

He has to leave for work then, to spend his morning offering advice on running shoes and protein powder while his coworker is working the counter. It’s exhausting, having to smile and answer the same questions over and over all day, re-folding clothes that customers leave in a heap somewhere, and explain patiently that no, he can’t conjure those shoes out of thin air in size 10, but they can be here in two days if he orders them now, okay? It’s the opposite of fun most of the time. But it’s what he gets paid for, so he has no choice. It’s just not exactly what he dreamed of doing with his early 20s.

He doesn’t get a chance to check his phone again before lunch, and he’s not even surprised to find a new message from Evgeni. He’d sort of been expecting it at this point.

“Hello Sidney, I’m glad you like idea. I think is very important. I’m sure you don’t need idea from me, but some yoga is good stretches. Easy. Can be good for start. I’m do some videos also, lot of warm up I get idea from yoga. But is all Russian. Sorry. But I’m sure you will have very good idea without me. I will watch for sure. Greetings from Evgeni.”

Sid bites his lip and puts his sandwich down. He’s never much liked yoga, no matter how much Flower keeps poking him to try it, but now he’s curious. He follows Geno’s username to his channel, and yeah, there’s quite a collection of videos up there. He can’t read any of the titles, so he just clicks on the shortest one, which is just a little over six minutes.

What he sees is...not quite what he expected.

Evgeni is tall. Really tall. With long skinny legs and a quite impressive upper half. And his face is...Sid knows he should probably focus on the video instead of staring at the guy’s face, but Evgeni has gentle, sad eyes and a smile that makes Sid smile too, and there’s just a sparkle of something a little mischievous in his expression. His nose is a little big and his lips are chapped and his hair looks just a bit sweaty and he’s beautiful.

Sid doesn’t think he really has a type. But he does like tall and athletic. And, apparently, also a kind face and bony feet and very large hands. And a really nice butt, honestly.

Evgeni’s voice is soft, and the gentle rhythm of Russian is almost soothing to listen to as he does a lot of the same stretches that Sid likes to do, but worked into a nice, easy flow that looks a lot like Flower’s yoga.

Sid watches the entire video and then locks his phone and goes for a walk around the block before his break is over.

He knows he should reply, but it suddenly feels weird, now that he knows that this guy who’s been sending him messages looks like...like that.

He feels shy, all of a sudden. Which he usually isn’t. Only around very attractive Russians, apparently.

He will write back later, he promises himself. It’s just been a while since he’s really allowed himself to look at people like that and Evgeni really has very impressive shoulders. Sid feels a little ridiculous.

It was just a dumb workout video, for fuck’s sake. So what if the guy has a kind face and really large hands.

Maybe he should call David, see if he’s dating anyone right now. It’s been a while since they last saw each other, and obviously Sid’s loneliness and need for physical contact that’s more than a hug has reached a critical level. David would laugh at him for years if he found out that Sid got turned on by watching a stretching video, even if Flower used to tease him that “Perron is perfect for you, he’s as sexually attracted to gross and sweaty as you are.”

But no, he tells himself. He’s just frustrated in a lot of ways right now, but he’ll get over it. And write back later.

***

Later turns out to be that evening, once he’s home and has had dinner and nothing more to do for the night.

“I’ve checked out your videos,” he writes to Evgeni. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, but maybe I’ll try to follow along to one anyway. It looks fun! Maybe I will get some new ideas for my own warmups from that. A fresh perspective and everything. Thank you, Sid.”

He doesn’t expect a reply that night because of the time difference, so he leaves his phone in the kitchen, settles in front of the TV, and puts on a hockey game.

Hockey is always a nice distraction from everything. He’s been in love with the sport ever since he was a little kid. Never had the money to actually play it for any long stretch of time, other than with friends on frozen ponds, but it’s still his favourite.

So yeah. Hockey is always a nice distraction. It just can’t distract him tonight from the thought of a beautiful man with a kind face and a soothing voice, doing athletic things in extremely short running shorts that leave nothing at all to the imagination.

***

There is a message the next morning. Sid reads it sitting up against the headboard, before he has even made it out of bed.

“Hello Sid! So happy you like video! Sad we live far, maybe sometimes we can make video together if closer. But I’m sure yours will be very good. Maybe I’m make video in English one day for you. Need much practice first. If this too much, sorry, but this messages not best way for talking. So I’m give you email. Ignore if you don’t want, I will not be angry. )))) Greetings from Evgeni.”

And then there’s an email address at the bottom of the message and Sid puts his phone down on his pillow and hides his face behind his hands, grinning, takes a breath. Are they becoming friends? Because that’s what it feels like. He’s not sure it’s such a great idea, but...

But it would be rude to turn down an offer of friendship like this, wouldn’t it?

The weird sort of melancholy from yesterday has left him, too, and with it the uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment at noticing the simple fact that a person he’s talking to is quite objectively attractive.

He feels like himself again.

So Sid does the only thing he can do, picks his phone up, copies Evgeni’s email address, and opens his email app.

It’s only polite. That’s the only reason he’s doing this. Anything else would be crazy. They’re pretty much living on opposite sides of the planet. So he’s just being nice to someone who was nice to him first and who is nice to talk to. Making a new friend in the process wouldn’t be the worst thing either.

And learning more about Evgeni’s thoughts on mixing yoga with regular workouts definitely can’t hurt. It’s a sport. All sports are good. He can always get into a new sport. Evgeni knows more about this particular one than he does, obviously, even if he seems to use it sparingly judging from the videos Sid has definitely not marathoned in bed before falling asleep last night.

“Hi Evgeni,” he starts his email. “This is Sid. I agree that emailing is much easier than talking through those messages. I’ve been thinking a lot about learning more about yoga, now that I’ve watched your video. Since you say you’ve based some of your stretches on it. I have a good friend who is a yoga teacher. He’s been trying to get me interested for years. If I tell him that I saw your videos on the internet and now suddenly want to learn, he’s going to be so mad. That’s going to be a lot of fun. Do you do any actual yoga off the internet? Or is that just what inspires you? Thanks again for giving me your email address. Sid.”

He hits send and feels pretty good about everything as he rolls out of bed to start his day.

Part 2

[fearofaherobrine]

Roleplay Server Log #395

"Cooking with EAlex, Meet the Parents, Really Bad Ideas”

-Once certain that she was the only one still awake within the vicinity, Sphinx slipped out into the night to track down Ra.  She returns to spawn and heads in the direction she saw him and the child go, skirting around the village.  There's a house ahead of her and she catches a whiff of blood.  She starts questioning Ra’s sincerity and picks up her speed.  Sphinx approaches the house and the scent of blood is coming from a room built around two massive jungle trees’.  Climbing up to the small balcony she peers over the edge, and is surprised to find that the blood is coming from Ra, a pile of blue feathers at his side and the blood dripping from his arm.  Sphinx considers approaching until she hears the door open and a gentle glow is cast into the room.

“Firebird?”  Sphinx watched the long white haired woman draw closer to Ra.  “Is everything alright?”

“I’ll be fine, did I wake you?”  Ra yanks another feather out of his arm, wincing as he does so.

“Not me, but CP woke up because he could smell the blood.”  The woman kneels down next to Ra and with a gentle movement of her hand a few green flowers spring up next to Ra, a gentle green glow coming from the and whisping towards his wounds.  Ra is silent as he watches the flowers.

“I’m sorry Lie…”

“For what?”

“CN…  You trusted me to keep him safe and he ended up in danger because of my past.  He was stolen from me and dragged off, gagged and…  And I couldn’t control myself…  I tried to warn them off, I didn’t want to hurt them…”  Ra has begun trembling at this point, recalling what he did.

“But there’s a difference between then and now.”  Ra looks at the woman with surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“Firebird, in the past you did things out of pride and anger, this time, it was out of fear and love.  You feared for CN’s safety, you pushed yourself to get to him for his own safety.  You didn’t care about your own, only his.  You love him Firebird, that much is so very obvious.”  Lie glances over at the sleeping child on the bed.  “I know you worry about Doc changing their mind and kicking you out because of your relapse and I can assure you that will not happen.  You’re not the first to have a relapse at all.  In fact I’m fairly certain CP may be heading towards another himself.”  Ra tilts his head a bit curiously at the woman before him.

“How do you know the thoughts that trouble me?”

“You forget Firebird, I’m psychic and you’re broadcasting your thoughts fairly loudly.”  Sphinx watches as Ra becomes flustered.

“Ah, right…”  Lie smiles gently and places a hand on his arm.

“Get some rest Firebird, my flowers will heal your arms.”  She stands to leave and Firebird looks after her.

“Hypothetically, if I were to be kicked out, what would you do?”

“What would I do?  Well, I’d see what CN wanted to do.  Unfortunately, I don’t think he and I have bonded as we were meant to, but he has bonded with you.  If he wanted to follow you to where ever you ended up, I would let him go with you Firebird.  You have been quite possibly the best thing for him, and I respect that.  He has no powers other than the ability to transform into a bird, and even that was given to him.  He was meant to be a buffer against my husband when he spawned, and his first teachings were from somebody very cruel.  You saw he was starting down a path similar to what you had gone down, and you took it upon yourself to make sure that didn’t happen.  And I’m proud of you for that.”  Ra looked surprised.

“Proud of me?”

“Yes, it takes a very strong person Firebird, to take the mistakes of their past and not only learn for them, but use them to help another, and that’s exactly what you’ve done with CN.  Now rest, you need it.”  Lie then left the room, leaving Ra alone to his thoughts.  Sphinx slipped down to consider what she had just witnessed.  Obviously, Ra was trusted here, especially by that woman, but she needed to find Set to learn more.-

[Locklear] Huffs a little as he slips away from his most recent kill.  The hot and humid air is annoying as a multitude of bugs swarm around the area.  The buzz of their wings ignorable at this point to him-

[Yster] Rings his phone-

[Locklear] Lets a small smile cross his face as he stuffs his mask into his pocket and answers the call- Hello love

[Yster] Coos back at him- Are you busy?

[Locklear] - That would depend

[Yster] My parents called...

[Locklear] - Oh?  How nice.  Did you enjoy your chat with them?- He slips out onto a busy street, his red coat hiding the blood all too easily which is splattered across him

[Yster] Not bad... but I accidently let slip that I'm dating someone now and they want to meet you.

[Locklear] - ...  Love, I am currently blood soaked and in South America

[Yster] .... you're where??? And why?

[Locklear] - It's a rather easy place to get away with murder.  Would you like anything while I'm here?

[Yster] I guess it would totally depend on how you got there and how you're getting back?

[Locklear] - By the slender beings my dear, but I would need to stop at the manor and change my clothes on the way back

[Yster] Ah, so it'll be a short trip with no customs involved. Any chance you could pick up some coracao de frango? It's a street snack and should travel okay. If it's not too much trouble.

[Locklear] - Anything for you

[Yster] Splendid! I'll see you when you get here. I can always fob them off for a day or two so you can relax and tell me about your trip.

[Locklear] - I can be back in a few hours if you'd rather get it over with quickly

[Yster] Up to you. You're kind of 'not the one driving'. Haha

[Locklear] - I will see you in a few hours then

-There's a distinct smell of meat and it rouses Licht from her position on the couch, where she's flopped after coming home from work-

[Licht] Groans and rolls out of bed- EAlex?  What are you doing now?

[EAlex] Whoops! Um... cooking you dinner?

[Licht] - ...  How?

[Ealex] ...... with heat?

[Licht] Is still suspicious and so throws on a thin robe and heads into the kitchen-

[EAlex] Has placed two furnaces in the middle of the kitchen and is monitoring them both. - Oh! I was gonna call you when it was done...

[Licht] - No, stop those things

[EAlex] But.... It's almost done, just give it min.... and then I'll get rid of them. I promise!

[Licht] - No

[EAlex] Obviously stalling for a few more seconds- annnd foods done! - He takes a whole roast chicken out of one furnace and two baked potatoes out of the other. The delicious smell billows out into the kitchen the moment the little doors on the furnaces are opened.

[Licht] Does not look happy-

[EAlex] flop sweat and sets the food on the table before swatting the furnaces so they pop small and zip into his inventory. - No more mess.

[Licht] - If I recall correctly, if you take something out of a furnace before it's done, it remains raw, correct?

[EAlex] I stalled long enough. It's all done. It only takes a few minutes in a game furnace.

[Licht] - Yes, but it's just plain.  If you had taken it out when I told you to, then I would have shown you how to use what I have here in the kitchen and how to season stuff

[EAlex] What's seasoning?

[Licht] - Flavor that you add BEFORE you cook

[EAlex] Is very curious now. - I can get another raw one from my trunk...?

[Licht] Huffs a little- Fine, at least the potato's are salvageable

[EAlex] I'll put the cooked one away, it's not like it'll go bad. - he stows the chicken and hurries off to grab another. In a wink he's back and holding a very large raw chicken in both hands.

[Licht] Has gone and retrieved the proper pan for roasting a chicken and is flipping through a recipe book- Let's see here...  I think I have some of that?

[EAlex] Juggles the bird for a moment and puts it on a plate before peeking over her shoulder-

[Licht] - Alright, first things first, we need to pre heat the oven

[EAlex] It doesn't just get hot?

[Licht] - No, and that's because it can be set to many different temperatures too- She shows EAlex which buttons to hit to set the oven

[EAlex] Wouldn't making it colder cook things slower? Or being hotter just burn them to nothing like falling in lava?

[Licht] - No, different things do cook differently at different temperatures, but other things have to be cooked at different temps for safety reasons

[EAlex] Sounds complicated. So... where do we put the fuel in? I have some lava if you're gonna run it for a long time.

[Licht] - It's electric, same stuff that runs the lights and the computer.  And it can be complicated, but that's why recipe's exist

[EAlex] Oh. Okay. - He looks around the stove curiously- It's really simple. Hardly any chips at all. Just on this clock part.

[Licht] - Well, it is only meant for cooking.  Open that cupboard to your right and look for a container labeled Thyme

[EAlex] Time? Okay, I'm looking. - They poke around - Lots of stuff in here! Mmmm... here it is! - He hands Licht the jar and then eases open another jar to sniff the contents before coughing explosively.

[Licht] - We'll only need a little- She moves the chicken to the roasting pan before reaching for the container in EAlex's hand- Uh, this is not what I asked for

-It's a jar of cinnamon-

[EAlex] It's in my nose! OW!

[Licht] - That's cinnamon- She closes the jar and puts it back before grabbing the thyme- This is what we needed

[EAlex] Goes to the sink and tries to get rid of the lingering powder with cold water- Mmm' Not used to having such a long nose!-

[Licht] - I suppose not...  Now come here, I'm going to show you how to separate the skin from the rest of the chicken

[EAlex] Why do you want to skin it? That parts crispy.

[Licht] - This helps the flavors get into the meat, it will also make the skin crispier

[EAlex] Scoots over beside her to watch. He smells slightly of smoke and a bit muskier then usual. But in a good way. His hair trails a strand over an exposed part of her neck as he leans over to look.

[Licht] Shivers- You might want to pull your hair back while you cook

[EAlex] Sorry... wait, with what? If I use spider thread I might have trouble getting it out.

[Licht] Pulls open a small drawer and pulls out a hair band- Here, use this

[EAlex] Holds up the little ring and plays with it in a confused way- How..?

[Licht] Small sigh before washing her hands and taking the band- Hold still- She pulls his hair back and puts it into a braid to keep it out of the way

[EAlex] Hums happily as his hair is handled. It's soft and just a bit curly as it spills over his shoulders- Thank you.

[Licht] - Now, take the thyme and rub some of it under the skin, not too much though

[EAlex] Does as he's told and ends up scooting the chicken around a lot trying to manipulate it. - This smells so odd.

[Licht] - Maybe a little, but it does taste good

[EAlex] I'll just trust you on that. - He finishes up with the chicken and gives it a pat-

[Licht] - Now we melt a little butter and put it on the skin- She grabs a small bowl and puts a bit of butter in it before putting it in the microwave and showing EAlex what to hit

[EAlex] Figures out the microwave a bit quicker since it's more like the furnace actually.

[Licht] Next shows him how to brush the butter onto the chicken.  While doing this the Oven beeps to let them know it's ready- Perfect timing, time to put this in

[EAlex] I can do it! - They pop the door and eyebow at the rush of heat before putting it in bare-handed. - Toasty.

[Licht] - Now then, this will take a few hours, but that gives us a chance to look through the cook books for anything else you might like to learn how to cook

[EAlex] Hours? Talk about roughing it... But that does give us time to.... explore other things. - He reaches over her and grabs a book at random before opening it in front of them-

[Licht] Smiles a little and watches EAlex begin looking through the recipes, she feels calm, much calmer than she has been around the large being, and she supposed that was a good thing-

[Locklear] He yawns as he pulls up in front of Yster's apartment, he is sans his usual red jacket since Trender had thrown a fit over him meeting Yster's parents in it, especially since there was still fresh blood on it.  Instead he wore a dark red shirt with a dark charcoal gray suit over.  His hair was even pulled back and he was exhausted.  He quickly climbed the stairs with the food Yster requested and knocks on the door-

[Yster] Opens the door and sweeps him inside- you look so dapper! I've missed you.

[Locklear] - And I have missed you- He offers her the food she requested- And I only look like this because Trender was having a fit

[Yster] Then he has my gratitude, you look great. - she takes the food - Oooh! That smells wonderful! Thank you. - she gives him a peck on the cheek - so nice to get a box of tasty hearts from you- she winks cheekily.

[Locklear] - It's not the first time

[Yster] - blink blink- ????

[Locklear] - Come now, it wasn't that long after our first meeting that I left you a gift

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[Yster] Dawning realization- !!!!!! You know.... I'd almost forgotten about that! Though I wouldn't have described it as tasty. Honestly I wasn't sure what to do with it. It's in the very back of my freezer. I wasn't too sure what kind of animal it actually came from.    

[Locklear] - A deer, I would have never taken an innocents heart and my usual prey wouldn't have even been worth spitting on.  That and it was as close to giving you my physical heart as I could

[Yster] Ah! Okay, that's a bit of a relief. I was a tad afraid it was human. Incriminating evidence and all. - she taps her chin- I wonder if I could pickle it? I'll have to get a big jar... Anyway. That's a weekend project. Thank you though.

[Locklear] - You're very welcome love.  Now then, I believe I have some family to meet?

[Yster] Yes. We have a little time. I'll go change my clothes and we can go-

[Locklear] - I'll wait here- He goes to sit in a chair and ends up dozing as he waits

[Yster] Comes back out after about ten minutes. Her long black hair is tastefully braided and she's wearing a charcoal and red pantsuit that's not quite a match for his but nice enough. She's also got a pair of red glass earrings and a pendant with a large matching stone and some heels. - I'm ready. Aww. - she gives him a gentle peck.

[Locklear] Opens his eyes- Perhaps it would be best if you drove tonight- He offers his keys

[Yster] Fair enough. You can doze in the car so you're nice and sharp.

[Locklear] - Well, this is what happens when you haven't slept in about 48 hours

[Yster] Particularly difficult targets?

[Locklear] - No, just an increased need for organs

[Yster] Yikes... - she helps him out to the car and pulls out slowly. There isn't too much traffic and it's a nice night.

[Locklear] Absolutely falls asleep against the window as Yster drives-

[YSter] Pulls into a small homey-looking restaunt and scouts around for her mothers car before parking next to it. She give him a little poke. - They beat us here. Are you ready?

[Locklear] - I suppose so.  Just so we're clear, I work in the hospital with children

[Yster] I'll just let you talk about it without inturrupting so we keep our stories straight.

[Locklear] - And how did we meet?

[Yster] Mutual friend. That's vague enough.

[Locklear] - Alright, let's go then- He yawns as he opens his door

[Yster] Leads them into the resturant and heads for the table her parents are sitting at.

-Her mother is a pleasant looking woman with dark eyes, a short flattering haircut and a very conservative black dress. Her only adornment is a little gold cross necklace and some small gold earrings. She gives Locklear a look that says she approves so far and gestures for them to sit down.

-Yster's father has a sweater on and some dark jeans.  He's got short hair and smiles as he see's his daughter-

[Liam] - There's my baby girl!

[Locklear] Notices the slight suspicious look given to him from Yster's father-

[Yster] Mom, dad, this is Doctor Locklear. This is my mom Lovis and my dad Liam.

[Lovis] Doctor? My my.

[Locklear] - A pleasure to meet both of you, I'm afraid your daughter hasn't mentioned you much

[Lovis] That's fair since she hasn't told us much about you either. So what kind of doctor are you?

[Locklear] - I'm a surgeon, specializing in transplants for children

[Liam] - You work at the local hospital?

[Locklear] - Sometimes, I move around depending on where I'm needed since there aren't many who specialize in what I do

[Lovis] Then I think you and I must be mortal enemies Doctor Locklear. - She gives a little laugh.

[Yster] Blushes- MOM.

[Locklear] - And why might that be?

[Liam] - Dear please don't put it like that...

[Yster] Ugh.... Love, mom is a funeral director. She also runs a small crematorium.... Her business is literally death.

[Locklear] - I see, is that where your daughter gets her love of the other side?

[Lovis] Most likely. But it's a good steady income that let me give her what she needed growing up. After all, a cemetary is just a pretty park with lots of very quiet residents.

[Locklear] - This is very true

[Liam] - So Yster, where did you meet your boyfriend?

[Yster] Oh, he and I have a mutual friend. My old bosses son introduced us.

[Locklear] - I most certainly didn't know what to say to her at first, so I do admit I ignored her a little just out of nervousness

[Liam] - Old boss?  Do you mean Howard?

[Yster] Oh fuck no. That nasty old creep! It was Markus. You remember him right?

[Lovis] Oh, the one with the receeding hairline?

[Yster] He got implants mom...

[Liam] - Oh yeah, nice man

[Locklear] - So what do you do sir?

[Liam] - Me?  I work for the government, just a lowly pencil pusher I'm afraid

-Waiter comes over to take their orders and puts a basket of crispbread on the table with some butter-

[Yster] Gives Locklear a look like 'would you like me too..?'

[Lovis] Orders a Raksmorgas and an order of pea soup and pancakes for Liam - It is Thursday, but I'm just not in the mood. You know?

[Locklear] - Go ahead, I'm sure I'd barely be able to read the menu with how tired I am

[Yster] I'll have the pickled herring over potates and a Raksmorgas for my friend. - She side eyes him. 'Trust me'.

[Waiter] thanks them and scurries away-

[Liam] - Yster, have you spoken to your brother recently?

[Yster] Only online. All he ever talks about is his boyfriend...

[Lovis] He is a nice young man.

[Liam] - They just got back from a trip to Brazil!  I think he mentioned having a present for you?

[Yster] Then I guess he's waiting to see me in person... wait, what was he doing in Brazil?

[Lovis] The usual necking I suppose.

[Liam] - Some sort of festival?  Or activist thing?  I don't remember, you know how he is though

[Locklear] - You always have to be careful doing that sort of activity

[Yster] Yeah.... - she looks closer at her mother. - Mom.... why are you wearing that thing?

[Lovis] You know it's good for business sweetheart, makes my clients more... comfortable.

[Yster] -deep sigh-

[Locklear] - Are you actually religious?  Or...

[Yster] Oh she's religious all right.

[Lovis] Chuckles sweetly- He must be a special one, if you're going to share family secrets...

[Yster] MOM.

[Locklear] - Well, she already knows a few of the more...  Unsavory things about my family

[Yster] She worships some Aztec deity none of us can pronounce right.

[Lovis] Takes a dainty sip of her drink- It's not good to say his name aloud for no reason anyway sweetheart.

[Yster] I know mom. - she looks at Locklear and thumbs at her mom- she just likes putting dead Christians and Catholics in the fire and the ground.

[Lovis] Gives the tiniest shrug while smiling at Locklear. - We all have our, little hobbies.

[Waiter] arrives with the food and places it around. The Rakmorgas  are shrimp sandwiches piled high on a single slice of bread each with shrimps, boiled eggs slices, lettuce, and creme romsas with dill and salmon roe. The pea soup and pancakes is exactly what it sounds like.

[Yster] Takes her herring potatos gratefully.

[Locklear] - Oh absolutely

[Liam] - So what about your family Locklear?

[Locklear] - We're all...  Adopted.  Our father and his brothers have supported us, even as adults they check in on us and help us if needed

[Lovis] That's quite admirable. It takes a big heart to adopt children in need. I presume this is why you enjoy working with children yourself?

[Locklear] - Partially, and it keeps me out of the same wards which a couple of my siblings work in

[Lovis] Well if you see someone a lot at home, it's understandable to not want to see them all day at work as well. Thankfully my job is quite quiet. Haha.

[Locklear] - You're quite lucky in that aspect- He tries to stifle a yawn- My apologies in the past two days I've only gotten...  How long were we in the car?

[Yster] Not long. We should eat anyway. I'm betting you'll pass out when we get back. - She forks up some of her food and nibbles on some crispbread as well.

[Locklear] - Of course- He starts eating as well and he does notice the slight glare that Liam is giving him

[Yster] Gives her dad a questioning look.

[Liam] Just smiles at his daughter as he slurps up his soup-

[Lovis] Saw the look and gives her husband the smallest light kick under the table with her rather pointy shoes. She's assuming he's just being territorial.

[Liam] - Oh, before I forget Yster, your birthday is coming up, what do you want?

[Yster] ...

[Lovis] You should get her a Princesstarta, she loves those.

[Yster] Squirms - It's true.

[Liam] - Oh yeah!  I remember the first time you had one, you ended up with cake all over your cute little chubby face

[Locklear] Fights back a bit of laughter at the mental image-

[Yster] aaaaarrrrrgh.

[Lovis] Should I just get you a gift card for some new movies? Or games?

[Yster] Very embarassed nod-

[Liam] - I'll still get you your Princesstarta baby girl

[Yster] Please dad...

[Liam] - I know, I know

[Locklear] Eats a bit more, thinking about what he could possibly get Yster and is distracted-

[Lovis] Finishes her food and makes eye contact with Locklear, he can tell she's appraising his attire, his accent and how he's dressed. She gives him a small, approving smile.

[Locklear] Finishes his food and glances at the time- Yes, I do believe I have been up for way to long, are you about ready to go love?

[Yster] I am. I had a long day at work. And we may have to bother Cp again for some debugging... - He can see her mentally swear for saying a bit too much because tired.

[Lovis] Cp?

[Locklear] - Our mutual friend that introduced us, he's brilliant with coding things, but an absolute asshole

[Yster] Not fighting that.

[Lois] Ah, the tempermental savant type.

[Locklear] - Indeed

[Liam] - Well, if both of you are tired, we shouldn't keep you, but Locklear, you, Noah, and I should have a boys day, maybe go fishing

[Lovis] You should go catch crayfish, then they might actually be eaten afterwards.

[Yster] I would absolutely eat some crayfish.

[Locklear] - Perhaps, I'll have to see when I have some time off

[Yster] Stands and her mom does as well; to hug her and whisper something to her before letting go. She gives her dad a hug as well-

[Liam] Gives her a pat on her back and leans in closer- You still have your pepper spray, right?

[Yster] Yes dad. I'm being careful. And he's very very protective.

[Liam] - I'm just worried, it's a dad thing

[Yster] Don't be worried dad. This one is special.

[Liam] - I know that...

[Yster] Leans in - I love him dad...

[Liam] - That's what I'm scared of

[Yster] Pulls back and says quietly- Don't be such a 'dad'.

[Lovis] Gives Locklear a confident handshake. - It was lovely to meet you Doctor.

[Locklear] - And you, hopefully I can be much more stimulating and awake next time we meet

[Lovis] Lowers her voice so no one but him hears her- May the blessings of [incomprehensible] be on you. I haven't seen her this happy in a very long time.

[Locklear] - I'm happy to be the one to make her this happy, and thank you

[Liam] Offers Locklear a hand to shake-

[Locklear] Accepts it-

[Liam] - You be good to her

[Locklear] - Always

[Locklear] He and Yster leave the restaurant and he notices the mothers approving look towards his car as they get in. He dozes some more as Yster drives them home. He follows her inside and doesn't even notice his jacket folded neatly on the counter with his mask on top-

[Yster] Leads him to the couch and slips off his jacket and shoes before tossing a quilt over him, and putting a pillow under his head.  She belatedly notices his folded clothes and is a bit unsettled thinking someone was in her apartment while they were gone. She checks on Rex and Noodle before curiously grabbing Locklear's mask. She slips it on and amuses herself for a little while with the night vision setting. After a bit inspiration strikes, and she dons his coat as well before sending a few selfies to Dofta.

Chuckling to herself, she decides to hide his stuff in her room so he can't sneak out in the morning and retires to her own bed with a smile.

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[Lie] It's the next morning and she's outside tending to her animals-

[Sphinx] Draped across a fence like a heathen, watching Lie-

[Lie] Spots her- Um...  Can I help you?

[Sphinx] Hmmm.... Maybe. Why do you trust him so easily, hm?

[Lie] - Trust who?

[Sphinx] Ra--- Fffirebird. That's what you call him, Firebird.

[Lie] - Firebird?  Well, for starters he's never given me any reason not to trust him.  He's fought by our sides when we've needed him and he's been a great help with CN too.  He's personally helped protect me when facing off with a much more...  Tyrannical and murderous NOTCH...

[Sphinx] Hmmm... I  see...

[Sphinx] Although I doubt someone could be worse than he.

[Lie] Gives a mental burst of everything Harvestman had put them through-

[Notch] Comes around the corner talking to Ever.

[Ever] Catches sight of the Sphinx boobies and his tail flicks excitedly.

[Notch] What's wrong with you?

[Sphinx] -Seems unperturbed- That certainly is awful...

[Lie] - Yes, now I have a question...  Why the hell are you half naked?

[Sphinx] Why not?

[Lie] - Because!

[Notch] Very polite- Hello there. I suppose you're new?

[Ever] She looks good though.

[Sphinx] Because Why, hmm? There's not a reason TO put a shirt on.

[Lie] - For modesty!?

[Ever] Is wearing his usual booty shorts. - It is a nice day out...

[Sphinx] It's only modesty if you're ashamed of your body or live in a culture where you're not valued equally.

[Notch] She is a cat person Lie... don't be a.. a.. specieist?

[Ever] Chuckles-

[Sphinx] -Calmly rolls off the fencepost onto her paws and stretches-

[Lie] - Deer is bad enough with her trying to strip me whenever she's in the mood

[Ever] Twitchy ears -

[Notch] She's weirdly pushy with you isn't she?

[Lie] Huffs a little-

[Sphinx] An interesting view into how he's been living now, at least. That explains why Ra wears a shirt. Thank you for your input, Miss.

[Lie] - Oh, uh, your welcome?

[Ever] I thought Ra was a male god? Does he have boobs in some stories???

[Notch] Who are we talking about anyway?

[Sphinx] You call him Firebird. Still don't think it's a fitting name but... -Shrug-

[Notch] well we do have a phoenix on the server too. That could be confusing otherwise.

[Ever] Scoots over to Lie and pokes her-

[Lie] - Yes Ever?

[Sphinx] Maybe so.. Well, I better be off. People to find, People to question. I can tell Set is here Somewhere too.. -Starts off-

[Ever] Pulls out a bucket and a hopeful expression- would you care if I milked your vanilla cow?

[Notch] Looks defeated since he was mostly ignored. - Nice to uh... bye then...

[Lie] - Yeah, absolutely, and Sphinx?  If you're referring to Flowey, then you should try the desert

[Ever] Thanks! - Scoots off towards the barn -

[Lie] - Everything okay Notch?

[Sphinx] Much thanks.

[Notch] Shrugs- Just one of those days. Flux is out someplace and it's been super quiet. Just spinning my wheels today.

[Lie] - Well, you're always welcome to come over and play with your grand daughter whenever you want, she's pretty close to figuring out how to crawl

[Notch] Brightens- I may do just that. Where is she anyway?

[Lie] - Inside with daddy, having a messy breakfast

[Notch] Beams a bit - I'm just blown away by how good a dad he's become.

[Lie] - You never would have guessed from how he used to be

[Notch] Don't forget how many times he stalked and killed me.... Trust me, I know.

[Ever] Comes back wiping his mouth a little. He's already put the bucket away. - You're the best Lie. Thanks!

[Cradilly] Sneaks up on Ever and nips his tail curiously-

[Ever] YOW.

[Lie] - Cradilly that's not nice.  Got what you needed Ever?

[Cradilly] Tries to look chagrin and fails miserably-

[Blake] Dashes out the back door and leaps into the pond-

[Notch] I should come over more often it seems.

[Ever] Moves away fromt he plant with a suspicious look at it.

[Lie] - I haven't seen Karla about lately, how's she doing Ever?

[Ever] Wilts a little. - She's spending way too much time trying to think of reasons to seek out Slender. She's fascinated with him and he scares the fuck out of me.

[Lie] - Oh dear...  I mean...  I don't think she'd really need much of a reason, but I also know he's pretty stressed himself at the moment...

[Ever] She kinda wants to help....

[Notch] That's weirdly noble of her...

[Ever] You know it's not that simple.

[Lie] - In other words she wants something in return

[Ever] Looks down - I think... she's jelous of you guys...

[Lie] - Jealous?  Why is she jealous?

[Ever] Waves a hand - Because you guys are... super... you know? You all have weird powers. She's practically ageless and so am I.. but...

[Lie] - She wants another tool on her belt...  But what does she think she can get from Slender?

[Ever] I don't know. The way I understand it, you can't be a creepypasta without accepting Insanity, right?

[Notch] Well... they don't stop being creepypastas once she'd gone though.

[Lie] - But from what I've heard, she's only infecting those for Slender's father at the moment...

[Ever] I don't know. She's hard for me to read sometimes.

[Lie] - I...  I'm not sure how to feel about this.  I like Karla, but I remember very well how CP was...

[Ever] Yeah. She's... annoyingly ambitious about certain things.

[Notch] she cares about your opinion though, right?

[Ever] Yes, but I don't even know what to say. She wouldn't turn on you guys, she's not ungrateful.

[Lie] - Ever, if she gets turned, there's a chance you'd be dragged in as well.  I remember when I was told about how a creepy pasta's mates work, well, the mate ends up infected as well usually...

[Ever] Puffs up his tail - Why would they want me??? I can't possibly be of any use. I'm a good book-keeper and that's about it. I'm no good in a fight.

[Lie] - Because you'd be her mate, her counter.  You'd be the one capable of pulling her out of her blood lusts and keeping her calm

[Ever] Shivers- I don't want anything to do with those people...

[Lie] - Then make sure she knows what she'd be dragging you into

[Ever] Ears flat- I will. And I know... at least I'm pretty sure... without me, Dawn would come after her...

[Lie] - That she would, and she'd probably be really unhappy about her working with Insanity as well

[Ever] Contrite- Thank you Lie... - He wanders off.

[Notch] Poor kid.

[Lie] - Be safe Ever- Turns to Notch- Well, shall we go cheer up with the baby?

[Notch] Yes, I think so.

[Lie] Leads him inside where CP is feeding Aether-

[Aether] Has no bib on and her whole front is covered in food-

[Notch] Somebody needs a few more lessons in where food goes-

[Blake] Uses the open door to run back inside and make a modicum of wet dog smell.

[Lie] - Blake...  Go dry off by the lava

[Aether] Gets very happy at seeing Notch and waves her arms around-

[CP] Just looks tired-

[Blake] Running around happily-

[Notch] Hi Aether. Is it bathtime yet?

[Aether] Shakes her head and body-

[Lie] - I think so, I'll go grab a cauldron

[CP] - Lie...  Why did Aether have to wake up BEFORE sunrise?

[Lie] - Because she hasn't figured out how night works yet

[Notch] You'd think as a native she'd get the hang of that quickly. - small smile-

[CP] - Nope, just whenever she wants

[Notch] Twiddles his fingers and smiles at the baby. - You gonna be a night owl like me? Code till dawn?

[Aether] Squeals happily-

[Lie] Returns with a cauldron- Does Farfar wanna give her a bath?

[Notch] Yeah, okay. I can do that. Give Cp a break.

[Lie] Puts in the water and CP comes over to warm it up to the right temperature-

[CP] - Careful, she's learning how to splash

[Notch] I can deal with a bit of water. And better she be happy and splashing then crying again.

[Lie] - True

[Aether] Smooshes some of the food on her chest with her hand-

[Notch] Reaches for her, - that's not what we do with food Aether.

[Aether] Laughs-

[Lie] - Come on Blake, let's get you some food while we're in here

[Blake] So quick to Lie's feet you'd think he teleported.

[Lie] Smiles and grabs some steak and mutton for the wolf-

[Notch] Gets Aether undressed and sits her in the shallow water and cupping it over her. - Yeah, you made a mess! Didn't you!

[Aether] Splashes, fascinated by how the water moves-

[Blake] Watching Notch with the baby while he's eating. - Urf...

[Notch] I'm being careful.

[Aether] Splashes Notch-

[CP] Goes and nuzzles Lie-

[Lie] - I know I know

[eldritchsurveys]

207.

What are some of your favorite cities you've been to? >> New Orleans and New York City. And Chicago, probably, although I can’t tell if I actually like the city itself or if I’m just so relieved to be in a city again when I’m there.

Would you allow your children to date prior to 16? (assuming you want any) >> ---

Did you ever go through a phase where you thought guys in bands were 'hot?' >> ... Why would that only be a phase? I still think various musicians are hot.

What's something about adult life you were never warned of or prepared for? >> I wasn’t really prepared for anything. I’ve been winging it since my 18th birthday.

Did your parents teach you proper table manners when you were growing up? >> I mean, I guess. I didn’t leave home eating like a barbarian or anything.

What was the last thing you baked? >> Myself. *slaps knee and wheezes* ...But yeah, I don’t bake.

Do you live more than 5 hours away from the nearest international border? >> Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s at least 10 or so hours to the Canadian border. I’m terrible at gauging travel times, but.

Does your town have a farmer's market? >> It has several.

What's the westernmost point you've been to? >> Colorado.

What was the last restaurant you made a reservation at? >> I don’t make reservations.

When did you last feel lonely? >> Within the last 48 hours. It’s like a default setting.

Can you easily tell when others are masking their true emotions? >> No. Unless they’re just that bad at masking.

How often do you wash your car? >> ---

When did you last lend money to a friend? >> I don’t really lend money. All the money I’ve given in recent memory has been freely given, for everyone’s peace of mind.

Which app on your phone do you tend to get the most notifications from? >> I don’t have notifications turned on for any app.

Do you own a Dutch oven? If so, what was the last thing you cooked in it? >> No.

Do you find it easy to put yourself in somebody else's shoes? >> Sometimes. It gets easier over the years (and if you read enough fiction and watch enough television).

What is currently on your kitchen table? >> Just stuff. We don’t use it to eat on so it just has random shit on it.

What is your favorite time period in history to learn about? >> I don’t have a particular favourite period.

How old were you when you met your current best friend? >> ---

Have you ever kissed a smoker? >> Yes.

What is the minimum age to obtain a driver's license in your state/country? Do you think this is an appropriate age, or should it be higher/lower? >> I don’t know, I never paid attention. I don’t have an opinion one way or the other.

If you won the lottery, do you think any of your family members would ask you to give them some of your money? >> ---

What is the craziest thing you've seen happen at your workplace? >> ---

Do you own any home automation gadgets like wifi thermostats or wifi bulbs? >> Nope.

What is something you gave up on after many failed attempts? >> Whatever it is, I’ve forgotten about it.

How old were you when you started to seriously think about what career path you wanted to pursue? >> ---

Have you ever disliked a book so much that you didn't finish it? >> Yeah.

Would you rather read a book, or listen to the audiobook? >> Read. I can’t focus on audiobooks, and forget about retaining anything.

Do you think tomorrow will be a better day than today? >> I mean... who knows????