#specifically frozen cooked pizza

[phantom-does-a-thing]

God pizza is so good

[milo-is-rambling]

Guy when he imagined living near his friends in the future and is swept with a wave of joy so intense he feels ill

[ms-demeanor]

So due to food allergies and other nonsense, the standard "we're out of..." grocery store pads aren't helpful for me - they have a ton of stuff if them that nobody in my house consumes and because I have to do my shopping at 3 stores the organization of the pads isn't terribly useful.

So I made my own as a whiteboard and stuck it on the fridge.

It's divided into 3 main categories: perishable foods, shelf-stable foods, and foods for specific individuals in the house.

All of us eat veggies and eggs and peanut butter, but large bastard is the only one who eats frozen pizza and sandwich rolls. All of us eat tofu and carrots, but I'm the only one who needs bread from a specific store and eats lunch meat.

This makes it easy for me to tell at a glance where shopping needs to be done (if I need a bunch of stuff then we have to go to trader Joe's, but if all we need are staples we can go to aldi; if we're low on a lot of pantry items but don't need any produce we can go to walmart).

The way that I put together the board is by figuring out the stuff that had most often necessitated a trip to the grocery store for just that one item. I can't tell you how many times I have started getting ready to cook and then had to run out and get onions because I forgot that we were out of onions.

Now if I'm down to one or two onions i put a dot on the board and the next time i go shopping i get onions. When i open the last bottle of tamari or bag of coffee, i put a dot on the board.

It's also a really handy list to have while getting ready to shop because we can stand in front of it and use it as a reminder to *check* what we're low on. Do we need milk? Open the fridge and figure out if we'll run out before the next time we go shopping. Does tiny bastard need more peas to reward her for taking her insulin? Open the freezer before we gather up the shopping bags to find out.

Then it's super easy to take a photo and go shopping, and when we get back to erase the dots for stuff we got but leave the dots for stuff from another store or that was out of stock.

I've been using system for a few months now and it has been very helpful for preventing food waste and for reducing the number of trips we take to the grocery store, both of which save us money.

It's made out of a small whiteboard (about 9x14 inches) that i glued magnets to. The list items are written in permanent marker and the dots are dry erase marker. I put dots in the center of the boxes because if you overlap permanent marker with dry erase, it will wear away the permanent marker.

Anyway. This system has helped me, maybe it will be helpful for other folks as well.

[gilverrwrites]

Hello could you please do some captain boomerang headcanon fluff, I don’t see enough of it on here.

AN: I can and I will. Good fluffy vibes only today, however, if you would like a reality check, please watch the video linked at the end.

Rating: General (however, wanting for swearing)

Please remember: Everything you're worried about, is going to turn out ok.

Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Request Info

He’s not much for texting, much prefers sending voice notes. These can range anywhere from simple good night/good morning notes, the longest, most pointless, probably drunken rambles, jokes he stole came up with, or professions of love.

When he texts, it’s always in 90s/early 00s style and full of emojis that don’t quite mean what he thinks they do.

Cn’t w8 2 c 👀 u 🫵l8r 👄❣️🪃 X 🌫️ Gud nite mu 🫥 u4e lol 😜 🩵🪃 xXx RUOK 4 d8 l8r??? 🌷💦 CUL ❤️‍🔥🪃 X

Has your name saved in his phone as the most ridiculous nickname you can think of, probably also with a bunch of emojis.

Dependant on your personality, petnames would include a few of the following: Darl’, darlin’, babs, babes, baby (pronounced bah-bee), sweets, hon, peachy, lovey, peanut, or doll.

Whatever your least favourite is, he will use the most cause he loves winding you up.

Swears at you, a lot. But its affectionate.

He’s not used to people doing things for him, so he is massively grateful when you do like menial domestic labour for him.

You sewed up the hole in my jacket? You’re THE best, I can’t believe you would do that for me. You did my laundry? WTF? You didn’t have to do that (he’s been wearing the same unwashed boxers for 2 weeks, someone had to) how can I ever repay you babes? You cooked for me? (It’s literally a pot-noodle) You’re an angel, I’m not welling up, shut it.

He’s really good at like, enhancing 'easy' food. He’ll add egg and chives and stuff to his packet noodles, makes the best cheese and vegemite toasty, knows just how much oil and extra cheese to add to a frozen pizza, and has mastered box mix cupcakes. His favourite is chocolate.

Uses a 5 in 1 shower gel, if and when he showers, and you cannot tell me he doesn’t blast lynx africa and/or paco rabanne 1 million so he smells woody and spicy.

However, if you have fancy smelly products of you’re own, he will use them. Gonna treat himself with a good scrub and some large helpings of your shampoo and conditioner (this one’s got multiple products for their hair, posho!)

Doesn’t matter if you use products intended for a specific skin/hair type, it’s getting used.

As a nice bonus he likes doing it cause it means your smell lingers on him when you’re not together.

Won’t admit it but he also really likes it if you burn candles and/or incense.

If you’re close enough in size, he will steal your clothes. Especially socks cause he is always wearing holes into his own.

Gets all gooey and excited when you wear his clothes, especially if you’re small enough that they look oversized, and are visibly his.

If you’re inclined to wear flowy summer dresses, he’ll go feral. Also, a big fan of linen shirts/blouses and short shorts.

When he’s dressed causal he lives in shorts and filp-flops, even in the midst of winter. Or if he’s not leaving the house he’ll just wear his boxer shorts.

Is gone for long periods of time (prison, hiding out etc) so is very clingy when you’re back together, and doesn’t really have boundaries.

Will walk in on you in the bath shower to use the toilet, or to just sit and talk to you. If you ask him nicely, he will wash your hair. Might not do a good job, but he will do it. Has his arms wrapped around your waist at all times while you’re trying to do chores or are out shopping. If he wakes before you (a rare occurrence) he will just lay on his side, watching you sleep. Might get impatient and attempt to subtly wake you by gently brushing your side or nose, or gently shaking your body.

Normally sleeps way into the day, and snores, loudly. Often wakes with a hangover. And will practically beg you to make him a bacon an egg.  

Loves almost any and all brekkie food, bacon, egg, hash browns, pancakes, you name it.

Is not a cuddly sleeper. Like he can fall asleep cuddling, but he will start rolling around, splaying his arms out, kicking his legs. Huge bed hog.

Says his favourite films are action, gangster, or like bro style comedies. Think like: Road House, Indian Jones, Kill Bill, The Gentleman, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, The Hang Over.

If you put on a horror, drama, or rom com, he will not watch it with you.

But he will find things to do in the general vicinity. Or straight up do the dad thing of like standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. If he’s not sat with you, he’s technically not watching it.

So like, which one is actually her dad? They don’t tell you but the writ- No no no, don’t tell me, I’ll figure it out, Don’t go in the basement, there’s never anything good in the basement, oh she’s only bloody gone and went in the basement! But… Barbie doesn’t love Ken. I’m not cryin, I just got allergies, shut up an’ watch your dumb girly film.

Has a stolen tattoo gun,wants to get matching tattoos, has pro for everyone of your cons. Ideally, he just wants names/initials in hearts, but will settle for more symbolic tattoos. Like a boomerang to represent him for you, and something similar for you.

Keeping any gift you’ve ever given him for life.

I made you a friends ship braclet. Eh, ya know its not my normal kinda jewellery. You don’t ha- No, fuck off, I’m gonna wear it forever.  

Would still love you if you were a worm. Hasn’t the foggiest what he would do with you. But he would love you.

Obviously gonna teach you how to use a boomerang. Even if you already know, he’s gonna show you the right way. Gotta make sure his bab is protected. (Don’t tell him that you find them impractical and are unlikely to ever use one when in need, he will sulk.)

Aforementioned video.

[kernun]

Rainy Day with JJK Men

ft. satoru, suguru, sukuna, toji, nanami cw. suggestive, mentions of sex, mentions of drugs and alcohol note. this is my first time ever writing headcanons or anything in general so, I hope you like it and I would really appreciate the feedback If you have any. It's an AU cause dead daddies can't enjoy rain, thanks Gege. I may update this with some corrections. Also, English in not my first language.

SATORU. Hates rainy days. He's more of a sunflower. Won't stop complaining about being stuck because of the rain and how bored he is. He would be such a baby about it, all whinny and annoying.

Binge watches TV. But like, a whole series or a full fucking trilogy. Eventually loses interest and the TV becames some background noise as he scrolls through his phone.

Eats sweets cause he's bored. He would finish with all the snacks in the house and won't have a proper meal for the whole day.

Sex. He would chase you around the house, flirting and throwing shitty pick up lines until you give in.

SUGURU. Trying so hard to just chill. Since he's an overthinker, he enjoys rainy days when he has company and can keep his mind busy. Hates them when he's alone.

Windows open. He loves the sound and the smell of rain. Specially when it rains at night.

Bokworm. If you're into books, he would enjoy a long reading session as you both listen to the rain in the background. If you're not, he would still want to be in the same room as you, following you around with his book.

Plays some music, but something soft so he can still hear the rain ouside. Probably some Lo-fi.

SUKUNA. Nothing stops this man, he's a menace. Rain fears him. If he had to go somewhere, he just would.

Bike/Car dude. Spends some time in the garage cleaning or fixing his baby. Beer and hard rock playing on the background.

Casually joins you as you watch some episodes of some series but gets bored easily. He has the amazing skill to turn every situation into sex so...couch sex as Netflix plays in the background.

Orders food without thinking on the poor delivery guys getting soaked outside. He just doesn't give a fuck.

Smokes weed as he does any of the above.

TOJI. Watches some kind of sports stuff on TV. Whatever he can find. Or even shows like "Storage Wars" or "Forged in Fire". Probably with a beer. Or two...

He would have to run to the nearest store to buy frozen pizza for dinner and beer because he doesn't want to pay the delivery fees. He doesn't use an umbrella.

Takes some time to make tasks he's been delaying. You would have to chase him about it and tell him to move his ass but he'd eventually and reluctantly do it.

He would enjoy napping on the couch. ALL DAY.

Sex for sure. As many rounds as you're willing to go.

NANAMI. Restless daddy. He doesn't know how to chill. He needs to keep himself busy.

Fixes small stuff around the house he couln't take care of before because he's always working.

Cooks a nice recipe or bakes something. Definetly would ask you first if you crave something specific.

Cleans and do chores. If you're doing chores, he would take over cause he wants you to relax.

After a while of you complaining about how much load he takes, he finally listens to you and relax, spending the rest of the day with you, watching a movie or whatever you want to do riding him. He would struggle internally but he lets you take care of him for the day.

[sepublic]

Luz: Hey Ed, this looks like it'd be fun to try out;

Edric:

Edric: Imagine going to a party with the white suburban stay-at-home mom with three overachiever kids, and the white dad who barbeques but doesn't know how to barbeque, and is always surrounded by other white dads who compliment his barbequing even though they're just store-bought pre-shaped frozen patties from Ralph's or Food 4 Less.

Luz:

Edric: And while he's cooking those the white mom comes out and says "Okay kids, here's some pizza!" And she pulls this out and starts telling the kids why it's a "fun pizza," and then cries in her master bedroom when no one likes or finishes it.

Edric: And the white dad is then consoling her while she sobs that she's a terrible mother and ruined her fourth-grade straight B+ daughter's birthday and thinks her kids hate her, but they don't care, but she continues crying softly into her pillow while the children eat poorly cooked burgers with unmelted Kraft singles and too much mayonnaise, and the only other condiments are two pickles and pepper because the dad called it his Abomination Burger with a Secret Spice, but the spice was just pepper.

Edric: And the kids just keep playing E-rated games on their Nintendo Wii while the 12-year-old older sister starts cleaning the tragedy up and throwing away uneaten "fun pizza" and whole burgers dejected from the start, while she dials Pizza Hut to get these kids an actual birthday lunch.

Luz:

Edric: And the mother then throws a fit because the daughter did something the kids liked and she didn't, and was the only one making a huge deal out of it, and the daughter was then grounded from her TV in her room for only two days.

Edric: And the other daughter went to blow out the candles in her standard birthday cake from Food 4 Less the mom added strawberries to so she could feel she did something, but was still slightly teary and sad because her day was ruined by no one wanting to eat her "fun pizza."

Luz:

Luz:

Luz: This is way too specific. Do you need to talk?

[jrooc]

✨mini weekly tag wednesday✨

-------------------- thanks for the tags @deedala @energievie and @kiennilove

5 questions + 1 emoji:

do you like cooking and/or baking? Yes! Specifically cooking. Baking is hard and filled with peril.

what is your favorite dish to make at home? I don't have one single thing. There's an eggplant pizza casserole thing that's yummy. Love making chicken pot pie.

is there a seasonal (whatever season it is for you right now) food that you often make this time of year? Mazto ball soup. Feels like a warm hug. Love making turkey dinner.

is there a particular drink you like during this season? Mulled wine, baileys and brandy, champagne, port, dirty martini ... basically if it is cozy and warms you I am here for it

are there any regional dishes that are popular in your area this time of year? if so is it a 👍 or 👎 for you? Ummm Canada is a hodge podge. Tortiere? I guess. 🤙 I like it enough. Maple syrup lollipop frozen on snow is the absolute best. 👍🏻

--------------------

Sending some mulled wine to: @gallapiech @michellemisfit @heymrspatel @thepupperino @heymacy

@such-a-barbarian @gallavichsuperfan @ian-galagher @creepkinginc @transmurderbug

@spookygingerr @ @crestfallercanyon @guinguin1984 @ms-moonlight-inn @sam-loves-seb

@sandrashaine @samantitheos @too-schoolforcool @callivich @spoonfulstar

@francesrose3 @suzy-queued @rereadanon @doshiart @burninface

@mmmichyyy @gallavich-annise @femboymilkovich @annarowyn @darlingian @andthatisnotfake

@runawaybrainsc @look-i-love-u

[anopenbookunderlockandkey]

The 118 Sauce Chat

Eddie: I definitely make spaghetti sauce extremely wrong but I’m not going to stop

Chim: please elaborate on the wrong way to make spaghetti sauce; it sounds highly entertaining?

Eddie: 1 chop onion and put in a pot

Eddie: Add 1 or 2 cans of diced tomatoes. Whatever makes the ratio of onion look right.

Eddie: Add a ridiculous amount of frozen peas. Peas should make up a notable portion of this sauce.

Eddie: Add frozen corn also if you wanna be real fancy. If I have bacon I’ll ad that too. But I very rarely have bacon.

Eddie: Cook on HIGH

Eddie: While sauce is cooking, grab the nearest bottle of mixed spices that isn't obviously for desserts. Add some. How much? I dunno, enough that you feel like you've added seasoning so it's technically cooking. (For me this is most often a mix called Moroccan, but it could be anything. Buck reorganised my kitchen recently so tonight it was something called Pizza Topping.)

Eddie: If you happen to have green herbs lying around, add those too. Whatever you have on hand that's green

Eddie: Let the sauce boil on HIGH until all the water is gone. Stir occasionally so the saucepan will be easier to clean later. Serve on cooked spaghetti noodles with no cheese

Eddie: Today I added a new step called "while the sauce is cooking, duck out for 15 seconds to text the group chat about spaghetti sauce, then get distracted and forget you are cooking." This adds a novel Extremely Burnt edge to the flavour profile.

Chim: I am not Italian, or of Italian descent by *any* stretch of the imagination.

I am also not one of those "cooking purists", who believes that everything must be done in a specific/ traditional way (unless you are making a cooking video with the title "how to make x" in which case if you don't specify mid video that your way is not traditional god help you).

I am a firm believer in "If it tastes good, then it is correct for you".

Chim: Except in this case

Bobby: This hurts every cooking bone in my body. The latent ancestors in my soul. The judgmental elf in my brain just bit a cyanide capsule

Hen: Why? The spices.

Using a different spice mix every time, based on what is ready at hand just ... hurts

Eddie: *sends SPICE IS SPICE meme*

Ravi: absolutely deranged, Eddie. Food crimes.

Bobby: Hey Eddie, looks like you forgot to mention the part where you obviously sweated the onions, because nobody would make spaghetti sauce that had straight up raw onions boiled in tomato juices.

Bobby: RIGHT????

Bobby: Please Eddie

Eddie: I don’t know what sweating the onions means

Hen: It means. It means you cook em a little in a pan with a bit of oil first

Eddie: A pan? How many dishes do you want me to have to wash here?

Hen: I mean you can also do it in the same pot you're making the spaghetti sauce in! The important thing is the onions get a little cooked before the wet stuff goes in, so they're not so wet and limp and boiled....

Eddie: Honestly this depends entirely on whether I remember to chop an onion first or I find the can opener for the tomatoes first. The ingredients go in in whatever order they go in.

Ravi: Eddie, who hurt you???

Eddie: A pack of wild chefs herded my mother off a cliff

Chim: Theres probably a hit out on you for this

Eddie: What kind of stupid idiot would waste money assassinating someone who's so clearly going to accidentally poison themself for free at some point

Bobby: hi Eddie, big fan of your firefighting, this is the sauce equivalent of the running up a metal ladder in a lightning storm to try to pull up a 6’0” tall man instead of lowering him to the ground

-Athena

Eddie: Athena, that is the meanest review my cooking has ever received

Chim: congratulations you found the worst way to do it! this feels like a spaghetti recipe made by AI before it got really sophisticated

-Maddie

Eddie: this group chat’s hate mail game is insane

Ravi: at this point please just eat every ingredient raw… please

Eddie: Do I look like Tony Abbott to you

Buck: As a former Committer of Food Crimes, I have decided to make this sauce this weekend after I have a chance to go to the store. I will report back.

Eddie: Excellent, I look forward to vindication.

Hen: No one's going to vindicate your boiled onion in cinnamonny tomato juice on noodles, Eddie

Eddie: Not cinnamon. Cinnamon is a dessert spice. You use the nearest non-dessert spice.

Ravi: cinnamon is absolutely not a dessert spice

Eddie: Yes it is! It's for muffins and pancakes and fruit pies!

Chim: Cinnamon powder is absolutely a dessert “spice” and Eddie if your cooking is this bad I can’t imagine your baked abominations

Eddie: I put lemon juice in everything I bake that isn't bread

Written for the only two gremlins (endearment) who find this as entertaining as I do @professionalprocrastinator22 and @gravelyhalversobbing

Inspired by:

[caddyheron]

Mean Girls food preference hcs

I have a fun time making silly mundane hcs. I copy and pasted these, then changed a little, from the discord server.

Cady: Enjoy chicken wings so much more than anyone would assume she does. They’re so messy, but they’re so good. Other than that, she mostly enjoys anything. Preference for meat with a meal and really likes cake, not the biggest fan of vegetables of any kind, but will eat them if she Has to. Hates buffets. Fucking hates buffets. Also loves the most random insane candy Janis can find for her to try, unless it’s sour, won’t eat sour food.

Janis: Favourite food is burgers with everything on them, really likes salad vegetables on the burgers and sauces. She loves diner-style food, so milkshakes and fries too. Enjoys very sweet drinks, says she likes black coffee but her favourite is frappes that barely have any coffee in them. Probably drinks an excess of monster energy too. Also cannot cook even a little bit. Unless it’s noodles.

Damian: Loves pizza but will mostly eat anything. He and Janis go to a specific diner all the time and it’s theirs and they always order the same thing. He’s similar in preference to Janis with drinks, but doesn’t like coffee and chocolate together. Often has candy bars or granola bars or little bags of candy in his bag at any given time for either himself, Janis or Cady.

Regina: Canonically likes cheese fries. These are the only things she’d eat in school. Mostly sticks to salads when she’s out with other people for a long time until she’s more comfortable. Enjoys yoghurts but not Greek yoghurt because it just doesn’t taste right. Drinks iced coffees with occasional sugar free vanilla syrup. Enjoys frozen fruit over non-frozen fruit as a little treat. Struggles a lot with eating enough and never has good food in the house because of her mom.

Karen: Very sensory seeking when it comes to foods and loves things that have texture to them. So she eats a lot of salads with iceberg lettuce, baby carrots etc. Enjoys candy a lot too, but nothing that’s too sticky or sticks to her mouth like caramel. Hates pastas that aren’t al dente or rawer and cannot stand lasagne ever at all. If the sauce is too much, she won’t eat it. Doesn’t really enjoy coffee or any hot drinks, but sometimes might drink a milkshake.

Gretchen: Really loves pasta. Loves pasta so much. She especially loves white sauces over marinara type sauce and eats it with garlic bread or breadsticks. Gets cesear salads often, but isn’t actually the biggest fan of them, she just eats them. Not a big drinker of sweet drinks and coffee makes her more anxious, but she still drinks it if she has to. Probably enjoys iced herbal teas when she gets around to trying them. Snacks mostly on plain nuts and bland chips, foods with too much flavour make her feel too much sometimes.

Aaron: Bland. He eats soups a lot, they’re easy to make and easy to eat. As well as grilled cheeses, sometimes some plain pasta and cheese, and he orders lasagna when he’s out. Quite good at cooking, but not great at baking, but he will make chocolate chip cookies sometimes. Mostly drinks water and occasionally coke or hot coffee, doesn’t drink it cold. Much like Gretchen, too strong of flavours make him feel too much. Sticks just to crackers if things are really bad because other food will make him nauseous.

Idk why I haven’t posted these before, it’s not solid hcs, it’s just the general vibes of what they enjoy. Feel free to ask for elaboration!

[myloveforhergoeson]

i have many thoughts about roxy, declan, and food. here are some of my favorites:

- growing up in an “””traditional american values””” household, declan didn’t know his way from a saucepan to a slotted spoon, let alone how to make a meal using either one!

- when he moved to minnesota the week roxy was born, the only cooking utensils he had were some plastic spoons he swiped from the burger place down the block

- learned about feeding a baby from one of the delivery nurses at the hospital, than learned more from a few books he checked out at the library to make sure roxy was getting everything she needed nutrient wise

- as she grew up, he became quite the couponer and would rock up to the grocery store with a list of the exact items he needed. he could buy no more or he’d punish himself by not getting to watch whatever sports game he wanted to see was on that week

- ^ the only exception to this rule was if something needed to be celebrated! the ingredients to their favorite treat, oreo fluff salad, were always allowed to be purchased if there was a valid reason

- being from texas, dec didn’t know a thing about midwestern foods. when his coworker brought oreo fluff salad to one of their work parties he has one bite and was like “this is gods gift to man” and ran home to show roxy. INSTANT hit in their household

- but, just because he’s learning more about different types of food didn’t mean he was a good cook. they mostly ate frozen or already made meals! roxy unfortunately has inherited the no-kitchen-knowledge because of this

- decs “specialty” is fettuccine topped with pizza sauce. went triple platinum in the somerset household. james is horrified the first time he eats dinner with the two of them

- both dec and roxy have massive sweet teeth; it’s how he’s able to convince roxy to eat her fruits - they’re so sweet!!

- they share the same favorite food: cheeseburgers!!! specifically from a local joint in duluth called bun-in-a-million. roxy thinks inside out burger could give them a run for their money tho…

[hailtothepumpkinqueen]

Conversations at the Saloon Part 1

(Based on Clint's 3 Heart Event, with a side of Farmer pining after the sad chicken man without realizing. Takes place after this. Part 2 here )

Why she went into the Saloon knowing damn well Shane was going to be there, she had no idea.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She knew she didn't feel like cooking, not after getting knocked around in the mines all day. She knew the Stardrop Saloon was the only place in town to get a hot meal and a cold drink. And, as far as she knew, Gus didn't make deliveries. Pick up or dine in only.

But, even with all those factors, she didn't know why she would willingly step foot in a place where she had been yelled at barely 24 hours ago. Of course she could steer clear Shane(like he wanted), but it wouldn't stop the swirl of thoughts and feelings the sight of him drug up.

She didn't understand him. One moment they were commiserating, the next he was snapping at her to leave him alone, and the NEXT he was sending her a frozen pizza in the mail because he "wanted to write her a letter". What was he playing at?? Was she being punked? Did she misread the situation? Did he just...not want to associate with her in public? She had no idea, and she wasn't about to ask him after he basically bit her head off for just saying "hi".

Luckily, he was tucked away on one side of the bar and could easily be avoided. Unluckily, someone else was waving her down on the exact same side of the Saloon: Clint. Making direct eye contact and the "come here" motion with his hand in a way that was not at all subtle. She sighed heavily and hoped to Yoba Shane wouldn't notice her as she made her way over. This had better be important...

"Hello, Kat...Care to join me?" As if he hadn't just been doing his best impression of a flight instructor to get her attention. Pulling out a chair for her so quickly it made an awful screeching sound across the wood floor. If she wasn't so tired and hungry, his awkwardness would be kind of endearing.

"If this is about upgrading my tools, I don't have enough ore yet, Clint. I told you that already." Admittedly her tone was a bit snippy, but he was keeping her from grabbing something to eat and getting the fuck out. Sitting in the chair he provided and propping her chin on her hand.

"I know, I know. I..." he sighed and patted at his sweaty forehead with a napkin. "Let me just go ahead and tell you what's on my mind...I have terrible luck with women, Kat."

Oh dear Yoba, where the hell was this conversation going?

"I swear I'm a nice guy when you get to know me!" He continued, leaning forward on the table as if being able to see him closer would convince her of that. Before leaning away and dabbing his forehead again nervously. "You're a girl, Kat..."

"Last I checked, yeah." She replied flatly, half wishing the floor would swallow her up and she didn't have to be here anymore. But apparently the spirits were displeased with her today because in that chair, in this conversation she remained.

"What advice can you give me? What can I do to make Em--uh, girls give me a chance?"

Either he was very oblivious or very desperate, because he didn't seem to notice her eyes bugging out of her head. That was what he called her over for?? For fuck's sake, she hadn't so much as held hands with a man since college, how the hell was she supposed to give advice?

"I don't know, man. Just...act natural. Be yourself. Women aren't a hivemind, dude, I can't tell you how to get the attention of one specific girl." Whisper shouting and waving a hand in exasperation, still trying to avoid detection from one specific man, even though she was sure he knew she was there by now after the noise the chair made.

Sure enough, when she glanced in his direction, he was looking right at her with a curious expression. Their eyes meeting for a second before she looked away, hoping her hair hid her face.

"That's the problem...I do act natural...but I never have any success." Clint huffed, still seemingly oblivious to anything but what was going on in his head. Turning to where she had just been looking, but only because Emily was now walking their way.

She watched Clint stumble through making a food order, completely fumble a possible attempt to ask Emily out before she went to hand Shane a beer. She watched how easily the pair of them chatted, how Shane's face lit up in a smile like it was the simplest thing in the world. Feeling a twinge of...something in her chest. Something painful.

It shouldn't hurt, seeing him getting along with someone else. She'd seen how sweet he could be with Jas, with the chickens he loved so much. Seen him smile at them the same way he was smiling at Emily. Why did it bother her so much that he didn't smile like that at her, too? That she only got a hint of it before he put the walls up again?

Maybe she shouldn't be surprised he'd talk so easily with Emily. She was beautiful and bright and confident and seemed to ooze charisma like it was her purpose on earth to get along with everyone. Nothing like herself. No wonder Shane probably didn't want to be seen with her in public.

"I'm doomed..." Clint sighed next to her, watching Emily and Shane chat, as well. Almost certainly looking as crestfallen as she felt. What a pair they made.

"Yeah...me, too..."

[leclerced]

in honour of the flowers i’ve been waiting 17,000 centuries for finally sprouting,,,,i need a domestic oscar (or even max) having a little garden and maybe he hides it from his partner cause he worries he’ll be judged but she finds out and is very 😁😁😁 ecstatic😁😁😁

waiting for seeds to sprout is like the worst feeling until they finally sprout n then its the best !! this made me think of the who cooked here meme soo .. this is lowkey a jokey blurb idk??

is the sixth date too early to invite a girl over for dinner? oscar’s not sure if there’s a specific time, moreso when you feel it’s right. he’s never had a girl over to his own place before. before, there was always the threat of roommates coming home when they were supposed to be away for the night. it’s been awhile since he dated, since he’s had someone to cook a meal for, and now he lives alone. he’s hoping she’ll like everything, appreciate the effort he put in. he baked bread and made pasta from scratch, used fresh herbs from his herb garden in it. he’s damn proud of himself when he finishes everything minutes before eight and sets the table. he’d gone out and bought a fancy dish to serve the pasta in, baked it so it’d stay warm for awhile.

he’s buzzing by the time he hears a knock on his door and nearly knocks over his dining chair in the rush to get to the door. oscar forces himself to slow down and pushes the chair in before slowly walking to the door. she has a pie in her hands, “i brought dessert! i know you said i didn’t need to-“

oscar takes the pie gratefully, “no, it’s perfect! i honestly hadn’t planned anything more than ice cream.”

she grins, “we can put them together, ice cream and pie are the perfect combo.” he returns it as she steps inside and takes her coat off, automatically hanging it on the coat rack in the corner.

he rests his free hand on her lower back and guides her towards his dining room. “nice to see you again, you look nice.”

she turns back to him and flutters her eyes, “you look nice too.” oscar put on a new shirt just before she arrived, a light blue button up. it was new and he was secretly hoping she’d like it when he picked it out. you have to pass through the kitchen to get to the dining room, and he hopes he didn’t miss any messes on the counter when wiping up. there’s a few pans in the sink but that can be excused, he just finished using them and is washing them after dinner with their dishes.

when she steps into the kitchen, a low noise leaves her throat. “who cooked here?”

“uh i did?” oscar tries not to sound hurt that she doesn’t think he can cook. like, does she think he paid someone to dirty up his dishes? wouldn’t he just order something in?

she giggles a little, “no i mean. why do you have an herb garden on your counter?”

he stares at the back of her head, trying to figure out if she’s joking or not. “to cook with?”

“did your ex like, leave it behind?” she sounds less joking this time.

he crosses his arms over his chest, unsure where this is going. “no, i started it during quarantine.”

“when your ex girlfriend was living with you?” he can’t read her, he can’t figure out what’s happening. what’s wrong with him having a little garden?

“no. i didn’t have a girlfriend. hence the herb garden.”

she laughs again and turns to face him, pressing a hand to his chest. “really? you just.. have an herb garden in your kitchen? that’s kinda hot. so you can actually… cook?”

he lets out a huff and cocks his head, “i told you i was cooking you dinner, you didn’t think i could cook?” why wouldn’t she believe him?

she shrugs, “guys have said that before and all i got was frozen pizza or some box meal. not like… a home cooked meal, made with herbs from a little garden.”

he wraps his arms around her and he coos. he’s okay with being the first, maybe hopefully the last. “well then, i hope it’s good. wanna go eat?” she nods quickly, pushing up on her toes to give him a quick peck, “you could burn it to a crisp and i’d just be happy you actually cooked it. wow, no one’s cooked for me before. that’s so sweet.” she spins away from him as she says the last bit, maybe to herself, and he can’t believe no one has ever cooked for her before. he wants to learn her favorite meals for her, cook them whenever she wants.

[mechasegagenesis-blog]

Freelance Somethings

Hello, here is my first Tumbler post. I tried my hand at a Sam and Max fanfiction. It cuts off mid-sentence at the end not because of a typo, but I thought perhaps that was the funniest place to end it. Perhaps I could be convinced to continue this if there proves to be interest (I doubt it, somehow).

#SamandMax #FreelancePolice #freelancepolice #fanfic #fanfiction #firstpost #itsbeenyearssinceivetriedwritinganything #freelancehusbands

The air was dry and hot, making it stuffy in the cramped office. 

"Can't we open a window or something? The last time that we were cooking this badly was when we visited the literal center of the earth!" Max said, fanning himself with a large brochure for Stinky's Diner, that had been haphazardly folded into a makeshift fan. Sam, the six foot tall Irish Wolfhound anamorphic dog, panted, "We should consider ourselves lucky they let us back into the building at all, little pal." The pair had been stuck living inside their iconic 1960 De Soto Adventurer since their last adventure three months ago, and even their nightly ritual of tongue baths had lost its appeal. The minute they got the notice that the work on the building had finished, or at least enough so they could access their shower, Sam had wept for joy. Out of the pair of them, he was the one who had looked more grungy at that point, with his normally neat noir-style suit wrinkled and stained until it was a whimpering mockery of its former self. Sam himself had not been much better. His fur was matted in several places, and he had a constant itch that he associated with bedbugs. His partner Max had somehow not looked so worn down, even though he had gone through the same experience. Perhaps always going without clothes meant that roughing it was always part of the equation. His white fur still looked just like it always had, and he didn't have large bags under his eyes. That first bath back from what felt like the brink of madness was nothing less than heavenly, for the two of them. 

Max groaned in response to Sam's observation, letting himself fall comically backwards onto the uneven wooden surface of the office floor. His lagamorphic, rabbity like body had many utilities, but cooling off was sadly not part of the repertoire. He and Sam were miserably roasting in their fur as the merciless summer sun beat down on them from the windows of their workspace, which was currently doubling as their sleeping quarters. Outside, they could hear the car horns of exasperated drivers who were stuck in the slog of the traffic below, half suffocated between the smoke exhausts and the interior of their coffins on wheels. 

"No use trying to take the De Soto out today," Sam said, tugging at the collar of his gray suit. He had already given up on wearing his customary oversized striped tie, and it was thrown haphazardly over the desk lamp where it lay limply, as if having given up. 

"But I'm starving, Sam! How's a guy supposed to survive on just frozen pizza and leftover stale Mcguffins?!" Max wailed, tossing an unfortunate Mcguffin into the air, where it made a beautiful arch across the room and landed with a hearty splat somewhere left of the trash can. 

"Take courage, Max. Nothing like braving the storms of wartime derelict to make steely the nerves of vengeance," Sam said, giving up on his skinny detective hat and tossing it aside as well. 

"That was beautiful, Sam. If only our rations were as filling as your poetic lexicon," Max said, sadly. "I can't stand it! I'm cooking in my own skin! Lapin à la crème just standing here!" 

"I prefer a nice hasenpfeffer myself," Sam said, smirking. 

"Very funny," Max said dryly. "As if you wouldn't make a nice taco filling yourself, big boy. With a little marinating, and spices, I bet we could barbeque ourselves a nice berrio enchilada a la perro."

Sam shrugged, casually indifferent to his friend's concerningly specific plan for consuming him as a meal. 

Max hopped up, excited. "Let's order us up some dinner. I hear Jimmy Two Teeth is a FoodFast delivery driver now. We can work his tiny paws to the bone for our amusement!"

Sam shook his head sadly. His snout came just shy of hitting the corner lamp. He pulled his wallet out and opened it, to reveal...mothballs. Max shrugged his thin shoulders. 

"So we're a little short on cash. That's never stopped us before!" Max said confidently. "Let's break into our emergency savings and have a real feast tonight!"

Sam pulled out their piggy bank, which was shaped like little froggies playing as a Mariachi band. (They had only just discovered last week that it could hold coins. For years, they had just thought it was a cool decoration for the top of their file cabinet.) He uncorked the big sombrero of the first frog, and upturned the item. Nothing came out. He repeated the action with the frog on the other side. The same result. 

Max's shark-like grin faltered a tad, before he waved it off. "No biggie," he said. "I still got winnings from this last Poker Night at the Inventory we attended," he said, and dashed away to go get the pillow case that he hid them in. Sam waited nervously at the door for his return. He had used the last of the pillow fund on the latest repairs of the De Soto, and hadn't gotten around to telling Max yet. 

"Uh, little buddy..." he started, awkwardly, only to be interrupted by Max launching himself into his arms. "Sam! We've been robbed! Oh, this is horrible! They've taken everything! There's nothing left! Oh woe is us! Oh woe is me!" 

He flopped dramatically over the side of Sam's arms like a weird ragdoll that Sam had to strain to hold onto. "Max. Max, I don't know how to tell you this." Sam said carefully. "We haven't been robbed."

 Max lifted his head so suddenly that Sam almost dropped him. "What do you mean?!" 

"I mean I didn't have the heart to tell you that the pillow fund is also gone," Sam said in almost a whisper, as if he was ashamed of the words coming out of his mouth. "I used it all up, Max. I'm so-"

"No, you walnut! I mean our bedding! Our blankets! Our pillow fort! Mr. Cuddles, my bear! All GONE!" Max wailed. 

"What?!" Sam cried, and tossed Max behind him so that he could take a look inside their shared bedroom. Now it was Max flying in a beautiful arc across the room landing next to the Mcguffin. It's true, everything they owned had been whisked away, the imprint of them still fresh in Sam's mind. They left a physical imprint too, like a wierd cartoon shadow of "here is where the bed was, here is where the dresser was," etc. In fact, if this was a comic, that's exactly how the panel would depict the event. 

"Holy heaping helpings of leftover Yorkshire pudding handwrapped lovingly in Grandma's tupperware to take home-it's true! Now who on earth...I mean, why on earth...I mean, what on earth...?" 

"When you've finished forming a thought," Max said smirking, "I found something. Is this useful?" He was holding up a sealed envelope. 

Sam grabbed it out of his outstretched little white paw and tore it open. 

"If you can read this, it's already too late. Get out. Now."

Max looked as confused as Sam felt. 

"Whaddya suppose that-"

A horrible smell hit his sensitive dog nostrils like a blast of hot air. At first he thought it was Max, but realized almost immediatly after that it was a thick green gas, that was quickly filling the office with a scent similar to rotten eggs mixed with gutter runoff. Sam coughed and covered his nose with a sweaty sleeve, just in time to see Max pass out next to him. "Max!" he tried to say, reaching towards him in alarm. Before he could take hold of his little buddy, the black spots forming in his eyes overwhelmed him as well and everything turned to darkness. 

Chapter Two-The Sub Basement of Solitude

"So you guys failed that test spectacularly," Sam heard a sarcastic, familiar voice proclaim before he even opened his eyes.  'Geek!" he grinned and sat up, blinking in the semi darkness. 

Darla, also known as "the Geek" stood above the prone pair, her childish hands on flat hips. She shook her orange bangs to see the pair. She looked like she was trying hard not to smile at the two. 

Max sat up with a dramatic gasp. "Where? Who? What? Tell me which way to swing, Sam!"

"Physically, or sexually?"

"I'm a wild CANNON!" Max shouted, leaping into the air. 

"Watch out!" Sam said, plucking Darla up by the back of her shirt just in time to dodge a rampaging lagamorphic missile. 

Max hit the wall with an astounding speed and force, bouncing off like a spring board only to land rump-first on the cobbled basement floor. Undeterred, he gave a wide sideways grin at the pair and said, "so why the sudden death lightning round anyway? Not that I'm complaining, by the way. The last time I got smoked so hard was-"

"There's no way to end that sentence without getting demonetized," Sam said. "Let's move on." (A/N: I'm not getting paid.) 

"You guys are getting rusty," the Geek said with her half closed eyes squinting at them in disapproval. "The last time I timed you at this emergency drill you had me by the throat in 10 seconds, not 10 minutes." 

"Must be the sardonic embrace of old age, our technically proficient friend," Sam said, brushing off his lapels. 

"We age like a fine wine, Sam. Or in my case, like a fine musty Italian cheese," Max said, producing a round of cheese previously unseen on this realm of existence. He took a comically large bite, rind and all, as Sam's sensitive dog nose wrinkled in both disapproval and disappointment at not being offered any.

"Any-way, I need you two lugheads help with something," the Geek said, leading them towards her overly large computer monitor. On screen was an image of an island, with beautiful valleys and scenic waterfalls. She zoomed out to show that a literal ring of fire surrounded it, growing by the minute. 

"Now I'm not one to make assumptions, but that ain't a pile of whipped cream we're looking at here," Max said. His voice had followed camera perspective towards the screen, but then-

"No. It's a Fudgsicle Sundae," Sam said, mouth thick with rich decandant ice cream. He put down the dessert and refocused on the plot that was being introduced since the sundae had only been used as a visual gag to divert audience expectation. 

"I'll pay each of you ten dollars not to make a Ring of Fire joke," the Geek pleaded. 

"Too late," the two idiots said in unison. The song was already playing. 

"God I hate that song," the Geek said. "I always have. But anyway. I have a friend of mine on this island. An old professor buddy of mine who used to have some interesting thoughts on nuclear physics and so on, until he got hit with a Dracon beam and went crazy. Now he lives on this island claiming the island clams are infested with sea slugs, or something like that. I need you guys to bring me his briefcase. The one with a sticker of a rubber duck on it. Got it?"

"Rubber duck. Crazy man. Comprendo." Max listed off as if the audience already needed a recap. "Why?"

The Geek looked a little guilty, like she had been caught in a little white lie. "I might have. Um. Snuck a uranium capsule into his carry on when we were traveling together? It was a while ago, for that Scientists for Humanity convention. I didn't want to pay for shipping." 

Max wagged a furry white finger in her direction and tut-tutted like disciplining a child. "What have we always told you about thieving?"

The Geek crossed her arms and looked away, her ears reddening. "To never leave any evidence," she grumbled. 

"No-o. Never leave your stolen possessions in the hands of a crazy mad scientist. Sheesh! Pay attention for once!" Max said. 

So with that last thought, they pulled a lever and down a trap door, leaving the Geek wondering how she ever got involved with these two. 

Chapter Three-Our Boys Search For the Island, the Plot, and Who Gives A Hoot 

"Well that sure was a hootenanny of a good time, I'd say." Sam said, twirling a toothpick made of a wheat stalk. 

"I was especially impressed by our laxidaisical and entirely unorthodox method of resolving the conflict nicely," Max said. "I'm sure that will satiate the audience, with a dramatic climactic battle drawn in such magnificence and glorious detail that-"

"Sorry to cut you off there, little pal,' Sam said. "Methinks I just remembered that we're not being drawn at all at this particular juncture."

"By golly you're right, Sam! My inability to pretend the fourth wall means anything is acting up!" Max cried dramatically, clutching his throat in mock horror and alarm. 

The truth was, as soon as they zoomed away from the Geek's place, they had already forgotten what their goal might have been. They were standing on an island, sure. Ring of fire. Right. There. Nice, neat conclusion to the story probably waiting with a nice bow and a cocktail in hand, ready to be delivered to hungry online audiences everywhere, at least for the duration that they could keep their attention span focused. But their back was to the island, in fact, to the entire potential storyline. Deliberately. Back to the camera. No consideration for 

[copperbadge]

This morning I realized I needed to run a number of errands within a few days’ time -- I had to go to the dispensary to stock up on edibles, procure a steamer basket, and get beef and chicken. I also wanted to procure some specific items that I could only get at a real grocery store, as opposed to a Target grocery section. 

So at 8:30, after making pizza dough and putting it in the fridge, I headed north to the dispensary, stopped at Target for the steamer basket and some staples, then went to the supermarket and picked up, no lie, fifteen pounds of meat -- three each of chicken breast, chicken thigh, top round, sirloin tip, and ground beef. I also got kale, which has been in short supply lately. I feel very good about getting home by 10:30, all things considered. I got lucky with train timing.  

The kale has been tossed with oil and garlic-onion seasoning and is in the dehydrator now for kale chips. The top round (trimmed and sliced) is brining ahead of going into the dehydrator for jerky once the kale is done. The sirloin tip has been trimmed, seasoned, and put into the slow cooker with some beef broth to make italian beef. I’ve cooked up about half the ground beef with tomato sauce and seasonings, and frozen the other half, along with all the chicken thighs and most of the breast, reserving two breasts for making a pulled-chicken filling for tamales. 

Tomorrow I’m making mushroom pizza, bagels, a loaf of bread, and the tamale filling, and Saturday I’ll make the tamales. You’d think I was throwing a party for New Year’s, but really I just have fun new appliances to play with and improved executive function.

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Summary: You get to know Jake's family better, learn few truths about your life, and try to figure out what Jake's brother's deal is.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 9

Word Count: 2.9 k

Chapter 10: Just You

The rest of the afternoon is spent hanging around the kitchen helping Sharon with some of Thanksgiving pre-prep.

Sharon keeps the conversation going, "So, Elsa, any special Thanksgiving traditions at your house?"

"Nothing too different than most people's, we'd usually go to my Grandma's for dinner with my extended family."

"We've got that too, that's Friday night for my side of the family. You'll get to meet all of the Lucarellis."

Jake pipes up,

"That's the Italian side."

"How many people is that?" you ask trying to get an idea of the size of the get-together.

"It's about 40ish people with all the generations. I'm one of five kids so it's our kids and grandkids."

"Wow, that's a lot of people. My extended family is 10 people," you reply with my eyes widening. Jake notices the look on my face.

"Don't worry about remembering everyone's names, I'm pretty sure it took me till I was about 10 to get it all right," he reassures me.

"Oh yeah, they're all dying to meet you. Everybody is curious about the girl that got Jake to settle down," Sharon gushes.

"Mom, you're making it seem like Elsa's going to be the main attraction. Don't scare her," Jake says to his mom in a fake whisper.

You laugh, catching Jake's eye. He winks and gives you that panty dropper smile.

The conversation pivots, and moves to your work,

"So what is it you exactly do, Jake was a bit vague about that," she asks.

"Probably not intentionally so, I work for Lockheed Martin in the research and development division. The specific details are literally top secret," you answer.

"You and Jake and your top secret lives, always thought that was just in the movies."

"Where'd you go to college?"

"Notre Dame for my undergrad and Stanford for my PhD."

"You a big football fan? That's what I think of most when I think of Notre Dame."

Jake snickers behind his mom where he is chopping vegetables for stuffing tomorrow.

"Yes, I'd say Elsa is a big football fan. She sat me down and told me Saturdays in the fall were for Notre Dame football and I was welcome to join her or find something else to do."

"I had to let you know my deal breakers. Not everyone enjoys Lydia and I losing it over every play."

"Lydia is Elsa's best friend from Notre Dame, she lives with Rooster in La Jolla," Jake fills her in.

"Oh yeah, you mentioned that Rooster had found himself a lady friend. Nice young man."

The food prep wraps up and you help Sharon clean up the kitchen.

She goes and sits down on an overstuffed armchair and puts her feet up on an ottoman.

"Well, I'm done cooking for the day, dinner tonight is pizza," she sighs out.

"Well earned, Mom. Do you want a drink? Make yourself comfortable," Jake asks.

"That sounds good, a glass of red, please. There's a few bottles in the rack in there, pick something out."

"Elsa, you?" he asks over his shoulder as he steps into the kitchen.

"Yes, please." you settle on a matching overstuffed sofa.

"Oh, you'll get to meet Mike tonight. He's going to stop by for dinner on his way home from the hospital."

"I was wondering when he'd make an appearance."

"Alicia and the girls will be here tomorrow."

"That was going to be my next question. Jake's mentioned them before, especially when I asked how he was familiar with Frozen. He called me Icy when we first met."

"I'll level with you, I love my granddaughters dearly, but if I have to watch that movie or Moana one more time I'm going to lose it."

"You and I will get along well. I've always liked my name, but it did get annoying after the movie came out."

Jake has reappeared with two glasses of wine and hands one to you and Sharon and disappears back into the kitchen presumably to grab his glass.

"So Jake mentioned you met at a bar, how'd that go? Did Jakey have some suave pick up line?"

You nearly snort on your wine,

"You want to tell her or should I?" you ask Jake as he enters with his glass. He sits down next to you with his arm on the back of the sofa and asks,

“Tell who what?”

You wait till he is taking a sip,

“Your mom wants to know how exactly we met at the Hard Deck and if you had some smooth pick up line.”

Jake nearly chokes on his wine,

“Hardly, I ran into her spilling her drink, which is the only reason I got to buy her a drink that night at all. We talked for a while, I apparently didn’t pick up some obvious clues nor ask her what she does for a living. I was drinking pretty fast because she made me nervous and then I tried to pull my ‘I’m a pilot and this how planes fly routine.’”

Sharon groans,

“You tried to explain how planes fly to an aerospace engineer. I’m sure I raised you better.”

��Hey, the whole pilot thing has worked pretty well in the past. Then she promptly gave me an epic ego check and left me a smoldering wreck on the barroom floor.”

Sharon’s eyebrows furrow, confused how anything could be salvaged that situation.

“I assumed I’d never see him again.” you add.

“Something about you definitely intrigued me and I wanted to see you again or at least say sorry,” Jake continues. “I got your number from a friend and invited you to a Padres game the next day, and for some miraculous reason you said yes.”

“I figured I'd get at least a baseball game out of it,” you add.

“But apparently, I pulled the old Seresin charm out and the baseball game became dinner and the rest is history.” Jake wraps up, kissing you on the side of your head.

“Your charm was not trying to be a flashy pilot, and just being Jake,” you reassure him as you pat his knee.

“You guys are adorable,” Sharon practically coos.

“Where’s Tom? I haven’t seen him around all day?” you ask.

“Oh he’s volunteering at the community health clinic. When he retired from his own practice he decided to volunteer a few days a week here and there to keep busy. He’s usually back by 5,” she answers. you look up at the clock on the mantle and it says 3 pm.

“That’s cool, what a neat way to stay connected and give back.”

Sharon has finished her wine and her busy day and an afternoon glass of wine has mellowed her out. She yawns,

“Well, I’m going to go ‘rest my eyes’ for a bit till Dad gets home.” She gets up and drops her glass in the kitchen and heads off to take a nap.

You stand up and look at the photos on the mantle and the wall. There’s the usual family portraits, some baseball photos of Jake and his brother. A large wedding portrait of Mike and Alicia, (you assume), baby pictures of the grandkids, graduations, and other family moments all line the wall.

Jake has joined you and is standing next to you.

"Your family literally looks like the fake families they put in photo frames," you tease Jake.

"I can't help that we were all gifted with gorgeous genetics."

Continuing to look at the photos each one is filled with that signature Seresin smile. The one that radiates pure joy.

"It's not just the looks, which I agree are top notch. You can feel the love your family has for each other, that comes through even though it's just a moment frozen in time."

"All family photos are like that, you probably have a wall like this at your house."

"No, they're not. A distinct memory I have is my mom smiling brightly for the camera and then her face going back neutral or RBF. She never walked around the world with a smile. My Dad was better about it, but I think that slowly faded over time by being with my Mom."

Jake wraps his arms around you, knowing how hard it is for you to talk about certain things.

"I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed by how loving your family is. When I went to meet Liam's family when we got engaged, it felt like my family. Polite and cool, when they weren't sniping each other with passive aggressive remarks."

Jake kisses your forehead, it's always at his mouth level and easy to reach.

"I get that your relationship with your parents is in the 'It's Complicated' category, but understand, and this can't make up for the past, but you're a part of the Seresin family and all that love."

"You're going to make me cry. How are you so good at all this emotional stuff? I feel like I'm just figuring this out on the fly."

"This is only an observation, but I don't think you've ever felt real love before our relationship. Not to say your parents don't love you in some way, but it's based on you being something for them, like you being an Olympian. Real love isn't like that, it's based on you being just you. Just like you fell in love with just Jake, the man, not Jake the hotshot pilot."

The tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes, I take a deep breath.

"You realize you've made a better assessment than my therapists ever did. I really had to be in love to understand what was missing. Have I mentioned how much I love you?" you laugh, wiping at the tears with you hands.

"Yes, but I love hearing it.'

"Okay, I think we've made some good progress here today," you joke.

Jake looks confused.

"It's literally how every therapist, I've had has wrapped up the end of a session," you explain.

"Are we wrapping up this session?"

"I think so, I'm going to have to absorb that truth bomb and just bask in the love your family is lousy with."

He laughs and pulls you back into a deep hug. The tension in you melts away. You and Jake end up back on the couch snuggled together.

"So, here's your chance to preempt any embarrassing stories your brother might drop on dinner," you tease Jake.

He groans,

"Oh Lord, there's a few."

You spend the rest of the afternoon with your head on his lap as tells you stories about growing up.

Around five, as promised, Jake's Dad arrives home. You and Jake greet him and Sharon reappears to give him a kiss on the cheek. They discuss when Mike will be over to time the pizza delivery. Jake's dad calls out to the living room where Jake and you are still on the couch,

"Elsa, Jake tells me you like a good gin and tonic."

You sit up and respond,

"I do in fact like a good gin and tonic, got to prevent malaria."

Jake and you walk into the kitchen.

He responds with a good laugh,

"It'll be nice to have another g&t drinker in the family, these two," he points at Sharon pouring a glass of wine and Jake getting a beer from the fridge, "Are very anti-gin and tonic."

"I know, Jake has made his opinions known about gin, he said it was like kissing a Christmas tree."

"It is, it's so piney," he whines. You lean over and kiss his cheek.

A gin and tonic is slid across the counter to you, which you gladly accept.

"Thanks, Tom."

He holds his glass up in a cheers motion and you mimic him. The first sip is exactly on point, you let Tom know,

"Perfectly done."

"I've had years of practice," he responds drolly.

Sharon cuts in,

"Why don't you folks make yourself comfortable in the living room while we wait for Mike. I'll be there in a second."

You follow Sharon's suggestion and Jake and you take the loveseat opposite the armchair. Jake instinctually puts his arm up on the back around you. You wait for Tom to lob out a question.

Which he does, but not to you,

"How's the teaching gig going, Jake?"

"I really like it, I was a little unsure of how teaching would be versus active duty but it's so rewarding to get these pilots in, devastate them the first day and then have to be flying at my best to win at the end of it."

Jake and Tom keep talking about Jake's work for a while. Sharon comes in and joins the group. There's a knock at the door, Sharon jumps up to answer the door,

"Oh, it's Mike, I was wondering when he'd get here."

She opens the door to a similar looking man a few years older than Jake with a bit thinner build, but the same crazy green eyes and blond hair. Sharon takes the pizza boxes from Mike and Jake jumps up to greet his brother with a big bear hug.

A mix of each other's name, "Good to see you", and "It's been awhile" emanates from their hug. Everyone migrates to the kitchen and soon pizza is served up and everyone is seated.

Again you wait for a question to come your way and this time it does.

"Elsa, I hear you're a PhD aerospace engineer who went to Notre Dame on a gymnastics scholarship and works on top secret aircraft. Knowing Jake, one of those has to be untrue," Mike asks in more of an interrogative way than friendly. Like he's checking out your cover story.

"Nope, those are all true," you answer.

"If you're all those out of the world things, why did you pick my brother of all people to be with?" His tone is so serious that you can't tell if he's joking in a brotherly way or if he's being mean about it.

Your brain wants to go with the snarky response, which is "Because he has a very big cock," but luckily your filter is working and instead you say, l

"Because he is a very good man whom I love very much and who loves me just as much."

Sharon and Tom look at each and lift their eyebrows, communicating in that way old married couples do.

Mike rolls his eyes,

"Yeesh, you really are gone for him."

"Yeah, I think it's past the point of no return," you look over to Jake and he is watching the exchange between you and his brother like a tennis match. His face alternates from an adoring to annoyed look with each volley.

"Yeah, but I still can't believe he landed someone as high caliber as you."

Jake interjects himself to the conversation,

"I think we covered that enough, moving on Mike."

He does with surprising ease and pivots to his next question,

"So, how long have you lived in San Diego?"

"A little over four years and I, we actually live on Coronado Island, if you're familiar with the San Diego area."

The rest of dinner goes relatively normal and the get to know you conversations flow easily and feel less like you're a spy caught in enemy territory being questioned.

Mike excuses himself after dinner to get home before the girls have to go to bed.

That night as Jake and you are settling into bed, you ask Jake about his brother,

"Is your brother usually that aggressive to new people, or was it just me?"

"It was just you, I think it blew his mind that someone like you is actually in love with me."

"That I don't get."

"He's always been the do good of our family, he's a doctor, married, and kids. All things my parents are rightly proud of. I don't know if he feels like I one upped him on a partner or he's actually jealous."

"What about his wife, Alicia?"

"Alicia is lovely, I don't doubt those two are crazy in love, I just think he's put out that he's not the golden boy right now. My mom has been waiting for me to settle down for so long I'm surprised she isn't picking out wedding colors right now, so she understandably is excited and he feels a lack of attention, I guess."

"So the usual siblings vying for their parents' attention, like when you were kids."

"Yup, are you close with your sister? I know you call her fairly regularly."

"We're pretty close, my sister has always gone her own way, she didn't have the need to get approval and validation from our parents. She just did what she liked to do and that was art. So we weren't competing with each other in the same realms and could be friends. I think she liked that my parents were so over involved in my life that she had more freedom. But I think I've thought about family dynamics enough to today."

"Agreed."

Jake rolls over to spoon you and pulls you back into his embrace.

"I love you," you whisper.

"Love you too," he answers.

It doesn't take long to fall asleep.

Chapter 11

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[ezzydean]

steter into stetopher fluff I wrote for @cattatonically my teen wolf partner-in-crime 1100ish words, rated T for language (as usual with me) fluffy floofy fluff

If there was one thing that Stiles has learned in all his years on this earth it’s that he doesn’t know everything.  He likes to pretend he does.  He likes to have his fingers in enough pies and whatnot that he at least sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.  He has books and podcasts and social media accounts.  Contacts and clients.  

He knows things.  He knows a lot of things.

He doesn’t know how to handle this, though.

He’s just finally understanding how to handle the whole being in a committed relationship with someone who doesn’t think that Doritos and frozen pizza is a home cooked meal.  Not that his other relationships were bad.  This is just his first one since college, really.  It’s a good relationship.  A solid one.  One he doesn’t want to mess up.

So the fact that he’s sharing a home cooked meal with someone who isn’t technically part of the relationship feels a little weird.  Mostly because it’s not just a ‘hey I happened to be cooking tonight and you stopped by’ meal.  Or even a ‘hey thanks for helping with that thing’ meal.  No.  This was Chris inviting him over with the purpose of making a meal for him.

Oh sure it was originally supposed to be for Stiles and Peter both.  Which changed the odd factor a tiny bit considering Peter and Chris are basically best friends.  But then Peter got stuck on a call with Sweden of all places — and Stiles would call bullshit considering Sweden is something like nine hours ahead of them but he knows how Emelie is and a 2AM call isn’t actually that out of character for her — and so Stiles is here.  In Chris’ apartment.  Eating a ridiculously good meal simply because Chris had wanted to make a meal for Stiles and Peter.

They laugh about how much Peter is going to hate the fact he has to eat leftovers if he wants any.  They sip wine that Stiles enjoys but he knows Chris bought mostly for Peter.  They eat ice cream that Peter would have enjoyed but Stiles knows Chris bought specifically for him.  They clear the table together and Stiles argues his way into getting Chris to let him help with dishes.

Stiles falls asleep on the couch halfway through the movie they start after dinner and wakes up to the sound of Peter in the kitchen grumbling about how subpar leftovers are when compared to the original meal.  Chris grumbles something in reply and shuffles out of the kitchen back to his bedroom.  A few minutes later Peter settles on the couch and pulls Stiles’ feet into his lap before restarting the movie.  He makes it about as far this time as he did the first before he falls asleep.

—

“I have a question for you.”

Stiles looks up at Peter for a second and then goes back to the book he’s reading.

“Okay.  Go for it.”

“Do you think Christopher would like this?”

Stiles looks up again and squints at Peter’s phone, eyes darting between the screen and Peter’s face a few times.

“Kittens,” he says, turning back to his book again.

“Kit- what?”  Peter twists his hand to look at his phone.  “That’s not a kitten, Stiles.”

“I never said I was going to answer your question, Peter.  Besides.  He’s your best friend.  How the hell would I know better than you if he would like something?”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately.  I thought you might have some insight.”

Stiles rolls his eyes.  “Don’t take your weird misplaced jealousy out on me.”

“What are you even talking about?”  Peter scowls at him.  “I am not jealous.”

“And cows don’t shit in the pasture.”

“Excuse me?”

Stiles shuts his book and drops it on the couch.

“You’re jealous,” he says.  “You’re jealous and you can’t figure out which one of us you’re jealous of.  If you’re jealous that I’m spending more time with Chris or that he’s getting to spend time with me.”

“That’s preposterous.”

Stiles shrugs.  “That’s just the way the cookie is crumbling, love.”

Peter stares at him for a few seconds before looking down at his phone again.  “I’m not fond of these cookies, Stiles.  Not at all.”

He watches Peter scrolls angrily for a few minutes before he sighs softly and pushes himself off the couch.  Peter grumbles and grouches when Stiles flops into his lap and wriggles around until Peter wraps his arm around him and settles him in place.

“We can always make other cookies,” Stiles offers as he runs his fingers up and down Peter’s arm.  “Together.”

Stiles reaches down and types something into the search bar.

Peter hums contemplatively.  “Together then.”

—

The door to Chris’ apartment swings open and Stiles grins.

“Hey, Chris.”

“Hi, Stiles.”  Chris looks past his shoulder.  “Hello, Peter.”

“Christopher,” Peter greets politely.

“I’m going in,” Stiles whispers loudly as he ducks under Chris’ arm and toes off his shoes before making a beeline to the kitchen.  “We’re clear, Peter,” he shouts back.

“Do I even want to know?” Chris asks as he steps back and waves Peter inside.

“It was mostly Stiles’ idea.  So.  Probably not.”

Chris shakes his head, holding his hand out for Peter’s coat and hanging it in the closet as Peter slips out of his own shoes.

Stiles isn’t in the kitchen when they get there.  They find him out on the balcony in Chris’ chair looking up at the sky.  Peter steps out and kisses Stiles’ forehead and then slips past Chris and back inside.  Chris watches Stiles, listening to Peter puttering around inside, until Stiles looks over his shoulder and smiles.

“Go on,” Stiles says.  “He misses you.  Spend some time with your bestie.  Bake a cake.  Make out.  Stare longingly into each other’s eyes for a bit.  Whatever.  Just pay him some attention.”

Chris holds his gaze until Stiles looks back up to the sky.

“Pay him some attention, huh?”

“Yeah,” Stiles laughs softly.  “Then when you’ve had your fill of him let me know and I’ll come in.”

“Could be awhile.  I’ve been dealing  with him for years.  I’ve built up a pretty good immunity for time spent in Peter’s company.”

“I’ll be waiting.”  Stiles reaches out for Chris and tangles their fingers together when Chris reaches out in return.  “I’m not in any hurry.”

Chris bends down to press a kiss to Stiles’ knuckles.

“I won’t keep you waiting too long.”  Chris kisses Stiles’ knuckles again and straightens.  “Promise.”

Stiles still isn’t entirely sure where they’re all going with this.  But that’s okay with him.  Because he knows he has both of them with him for the journey.