#they invented french fries

[ticket-to-interzone]

C’est arrivé près de chez vous

Man bites Dog • Mann beißt Hund

Rémy Belvaux, André Bonzel, Benoît Poelvoorde

Belgique 1993

[daily-whistlepaw]

daily Whistlepaw until Fri becomes PoV day 1366

Fries night with my roommates

[geniepuppet]

Loving the Hotdaga references in this PH episode

[sprinklina]

[useless-bi-sexual]

Stop calling fries french. NOTHING FRENCH ABOUT FRIES. THEY’RE BELGIAN!!

[prokopetz]

I don't disagree that restaurants as an institution have numerous problems, but sometimes I'll see a restaurant-critical post cross my dash whose author clearly just looked up the history of the word "restaurant" and immediately started banging on about how the food service industry in its entirety is a bourgeois invention that sprang from the aftermath of the French Revolution, and prior to that time people only ever ate food prepared in the home, evidently completely unaware of the copious evidence that the public fried-food stand is literally as old as writing.

[teleit]

Sometimes I hate this show, and then I come to my senses and just despise it

I'm a feminist because I'm a woman and deserve all rights and opportunities. But this show, I swear to God, does everything it can to make me feel like a terrible person.

The show's adult Rhaenyra is just…ugh. There were a thousand ways to transfer her personality, actions, and decisions from page to screen, and the writers chose the worst possible one. Somehow, they managed to strip her of her personal qualities while simultaneously filling her to the brim with other people's accomplishments.

Young Rhaenyra was practically perfect, given the changes the writers made to the book plot. She was a young, capricious, selfish girl whose world collapsed in an instant, and she had to find her way on her own. She was unpleasant, nasty, mocking, charismatic, charming, sweet - and very real. Her actions could be condemned or supported, she was interesting to watch, and I loved her. Not everything Rhaenyra did was to my liking, but when she was on screen, I watched her without taking my eyes off.

Adult Rhaenyra is literally Frankenstein's monster, assembled from incomprehensible junk from the attic of Condall and Hess. She does not have a drop of the charm that young Rhaenyra had, as if they were written by completely different people. Every questionable action of hers is whitewashed, 90% of her decisions and achievements are recycled and reused plots of other characters from the books, any actions are extolled to the skies. It's like eating cold unsalted French fries, you feel punished for some unknown sins by tasteless crap.

I want to love Rhaenyra, I really tried the entire half of the first season and whole second to feel at least a little love for this homunculus, but it is simply impossible. Just when I'm starting to sympathize with Rhaenyra grieving so heartbreakingly for her son and wanting justice, and getting involved in show, the writers decide to indulge their nun fetish and have Rhaenyra dress up as a septa and go talk to Alicent about some useless bullshit. One minute she's not afraid to defend her opinion, the next she's playing Mother of Dragons 2.0 (Vermithor scene was indescribable cringe, as was posing with a goofy grin with three dragons while Aemond scampers away with his bloodthirsty granny). Here's Rhaenyra having a great dialogue scene with her son, and here she is kissing a SA victim who just shared her tragic backstory, but don't worry, it's very romantic and everyone is happy.

And it wouldn't be nearly as bad as it feels if Rhaenyra were like young Rhaenyra, whose flaws were real and not smoothed over by the constant reminder that this woman was the best thing to happen to the world since the invention of latte macchiato. Young Rhaenyra, if she were in the sept with Alicent, would have yelled at the woman, risked getting caught, and wouldn't have been shy about reminding Jace who was in charge and that he had no right to scold her. Would she have been right, or smart in her actions? Still no, but she wouldn't be hailed as fair, peaceful and perfect - she'd be a selfish, confused, grieving woman who'd lost so much and was desperately trying to figure out how to salvage what was left and take back what was taken.

The show does everything it can to make me despise Rhaenyra. She's selfish, self-righteous, smug, arrogant, delusional, self-important, dumb as a rock, spineless, one-dimensional cheap knockoff of Daenerys from the early seasons of Game of Thrones. And the worst part is that all of these qualities would be interesting if the show would just stop holding me by the balls and demanding that I must love and adore her for every little thing because Rhaenyra is always right, the best girl in the world, worthy of all praise, and perfect to the core. Let me decide for myself whether I want to like a character or not, because unlike some people, I have an IQ above room temperature and can empathize with a complex, ambiguous character with adult morals, not just Bloom from Winx in a white wig.

I constantly have to remind myself that it's okay to dislike a female character if she's written terribly, and that doesn't make me a bad person.

Ps. Still not native speaker and dgaf about mistakes, english can suck my imaginary dick; apparently somehow part of text was translate in my native language wtf

[secular-jew]

Fish and Chips’ Surprising Jewish History. Jamie Oliver confirmed it!

You may be surprised to learn that fish and chips, though wildly popular in England for what seems like eternity, was actually a specialty of the Portuguese Sephardic Jews who fled the Inquisition in the 16th century and found refuge in the British Isles. Celebrity Chef Jamie Oliver referred to this recently in an article in the New York Times, adding that, “Dishes evolve, impacted by trade, war, famine and a hundred other forces.”

Among those “other forces” are dishes born of religious ritual. For observant Jews, fish is pareve, a neutral food in kosher terms, thus an easy way to avoid treyf (non-kosher food) and possibly include dairy in the same meal. It was especially important for Marranos, the so-called crypto-Jews, who pretended to be Christian during the Inquisition. They ate fish on Fridays, when meat was forbidden by the Church, and also saved some to eat cold the next day at lunch, to avoid cooking on Shabbat.

Frying was natural for Jewish home cooks — think of latkes and sufganyiot — and as the Jewish community began to flourish in England, it spurred a taste for its beloved fried, battered fish throughout the country. According to Claudia Roden’s The Book of Jewish Food, Thomas Jefferson tried some on a trip to London and noted that he ate “fish in the Jewish fashion” during his visit. Alexis Soyer, a French cook who became a celebrated chef in Victorian England included a recipe for “Fried Fish, Jewish Fashion” in the first edition of his cookbook A Shilling Cookery for the People (1845). Soyer’s recipe notes that the “Jewish manner” includes using oil rather than meat fat (presumably lard), which made the dish taste better, though also made it more expensive.

There’s some dispute about the where and when of “chips” (what we Americans call French fries and the French call pommes frites). Many historians say that deep-fried, cut-up potatoes were invented in Belgium and, in fact, substituted for the fish during hard times. The first time the word “chips” was used was in Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities in 1859: “husky chips of potato, fried with some reluctant drops of oil.”

The official pairing of fish and chips didn’t happen until a few years later, though. Although there are some who dispute it, most authorities say that it is thanks to a Jewish cook, this time a young Ashkenazi immigrant named Joseph Malin, who opened the first British chippy, AKA fish and chip shop, in London in 1863. The shop was so successful it remained in business until the 1970s.

Who could foresee that fearful Jewish immigrants hiding their true religion and practicing in secret would be responsible for creating one of the most iconic dishes in the U.K.? The down-home dish that Winston Churchill claimed help the British defeat the Nazis, the comfort food that George Orwell said helped keep the masses happy and “averted revolution.” The dish, by the way, that was among the only foods never rationed during wartime because the British government believed that preserving access to it was a way of keeping up morale. A dish that continues to be a mainstay of the British diet.

Think about that the next time you find yourself feasting on this centuries-old — Jewish? British? — recipe.

These days, some restaurants are putting a new spin on fish and chips. Almond crusted. Baked instead of fried. Quinoa coated. Sweet potato fries instead of regular. And those are all fine; as Oliver says, “Dishes evolve.” But plain old fish and chips endures and probably always will. Good recipes usually do.

H/T : @scartale-an-undertale-au

Naveed Anjum

[pokotho]

i think you are all overlooking the option where the vampires can just. ask for consent to suck peoples' blood. i'm pretty sure there's a fair amount of young adults who would hear that request and say "hell yeah man sure whatever u need no questions asked"

whats the morality issue there if people want to willingly give their blood to the vampires. think about how many people want to donate blood to help people in need but can't because of the restrictions in place (gay men, fresh tattoos and piercings in some states, medications, underlying health conditions, etc) just explain the situation in full and i'm sure you will find plenty of good samaritans and monster fuckers (not mutually exclusive) who would be willing to donate a pint or a half

I know that’s kind of the go-to thing to show that a vampire character is “one of the good ones” or whatever but it actually seems a little bit more fucked up for a vampire to steal blood from a blood bank than for a vampire to attack people for blood, at least as long as it’s not the kind of vampire where a bite is instantly lethal like it never stops bleeding. 

People can recover from losing some blood but blood bank blood is constantly in short supply and is reserved for people who imminently need blood transfusion of a specific blood type or else they die.

[enchantedbarnes]

Uncle Buck • Part 5

Meddlingpunkitis

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Aunt!Reader

Word Count: 5.7k

Masterlist: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

Benji shot up from bed first thing in the morning, excited to see your first reaction after setting up his movie night.

He sat at the kitchen table waiting. You eventually walk in to grab a drink from the fridge and then walk back out as if it was a regular morning. Why did he only get a passing noogie?

Benji quickly looks over at his dad sitting next to him, "Aren't people in love supposed to be like, floating and all dopey looking??"

Theo finishes a sip of his coffee, "Not necessarily. If you're talking about your aunt, I've never seen her, as you describe, 'dopey in love.' Also, it is 6 in the morning. It's a miracle she's even awake right now. If you see her looking happy and 'floating' at 6am, I think we have a body snatching case to worry about instead."

Benji let's out an annoyed grunt as he scoops up the last of his eggs into his mouth and storms out of the kitchen.

Theo shrugs to himself, taking another sip of coffee while scrolling through emails on his laptop.

"That should be promising," he mutters to himself.

Benji stops in your doorway, "Are you and Bucky official yet?"

"Official...ly human? I'd say 90-99% for sure. Verdict is still out."

"Is he your boyfriend now?" He clarifies with a huff.

You shrug while sipping your drink, looking through your closet for today's outfit.

"You're the most frustrating person alive," he stomps off.

-----

Strolling through the aisles, you and Benji were out on a shopping trip after you picked him up from school to pick out decorations for the upcoming holiday season and your annual Christmas party.

Benji riding at the front of the cart, his feet on the basket underneath and hands holding onto the front while pointing which direction you should steer and which aisles to stop at next.

"Sorry dude, 6 bags of family size sour patch kids didn't make the budget cut." You stop him as his arms reach out to grab as many as they can hold.

"How about 4?"

"You can grab one," you hold up a finger, "of the smaller sharable sizes, final answer."

"Fiiiine," he tosses the smaller bag into the cart, "What about peanut slim shady's?"

"Alright, one bag of peanut slim shady's too," you agree.

You told him when he was around 4 years old that M&M's were called Slim Shady's because the rapper Eminem invented them. None of you have had the heart to correct him or teach him otherwise as he got older and you hope he never stops calling them Slim Shady's.

The look on his little face when you had joined in taking him trick or treating shortly after that...

Benji gleefully skips over to you in his little werewolf costume while shouting, "Looks! I got slim shady's!" Holding the tiny packet of candy up to you, waving it over his head.

"The real slim shady's?!" You asked in reply, trying to keep a straight face.

He nodded back enthusiastically.

"We need to grab some new string lights since we used some for the movie room. Maybe a new tree topper too.." you listed off.

"No! We can't replace tree monster!"

"I thought you hated tree monster?"

"It's a part of the tradition now!"

"Okay, okay. Tree monster rides again another year then. How about a new tree skirt? Does the Christmas Tradition Committee agree with that?"

"Mm…. Yeah, that should be fine."

"Your mom texted with a reminder to grab more garlands for the stairs banister," you read aloud while looking at your phone.

You texted Bucky earlier before you left on your shopping adventure with a quick hello to check in with him and see how his day was going, sharing that you were picking Benji up from school.

You notice a reply from him that says,

'Stuck with Samuel today 🙄'

"Look at this pillow! It looks like a dinosaur chicken nugget!" Benji lifts the pillow up to your face.

"It's the most beautiful chicken nugget pillow I've ever seen."

"We should get it for Monty! Do you think they have french fries too???"

"If that's what you would like to get him, sure. Add it to the cart, bud."

"Yessss!" He cheers as he hops back onto the cart while singing a made up song about chicken nuggets.

Turning the corner to leave the aisle you slow down so you don't push Benji and the cart into anyone. Benji looks around the corner for you, "Clear!"

"Thank you, co-pilot."

You make your way over to the Christmas decorations finally.

"How about this ornament?" Benji asks with a wide grin while holding up a large ornament that says "Just Married" on the back of a car window.

"You're hilarious. Hold on while I search for an 'in memoriam' option," you playfully glare down at him.

"She likes it," he smirks to himself as he skips down the aisle.

"Hey, get back over here. Put that back, you gremlin!"

He giggles and turns out of the aisle.

"Benji, you know better than to leave out of my eyesi-"

"NO WAYYY! AHHHHH!" You hear Benji shout from the next aisle.

You ditch the cart and take off after him assuming the worst from his shouting.

You stop short when you turn the corner and see what the shouting was about.

"LOOK AUNT Y/N!"

"Heyyy Aunt Y/n," Sam grins while holding onto Benji who jumped up in an attack hug.

You breathe a sigh of relief, "Oh hey, Sam! Glad to see you here and not some stranger dragging this one screaming out of the store," you greet back with a relieved smile, "Benj you can't run off and start shouting like that. Can you give Sam his personal space back now please? Thank yooou."

Benji hops down, "Are you shopping for decorations too??" He asks excitedly.

"We were just-"

Benji let's out an exceptionally loud gasp as he looks ahead down the main aisle, "Future. Uncle. Buckyyy!!!" He takes off running again across the store.

Bucky's eyes widen as he spins around. He catches the projectile 8-year-old leaping at him with his right arm, while the left holds his shopping basket with items he was carrying.

Benji releases his arms from his death grip hug and cups his hands on both sides of Bucky's face, squeezing his cheeks till his mouth puckers.

"I'm so happy to see you!!!"

"M ha-py t' see y'too," Bucky muffles back. "What do you have there?" He asks once his face is released, nodding at the ornament Benji is still clutching between his fingers.

"If I show you, Aunt Y/n is going to make me sleep outside in a tent for a week."

"Is that so?" He looks over at you with an eyebrow raised while lowering Benji back to the ground.

"For the record, I never said that," you hold your hands up in defense, "but I wouldn't rule that option out completely," you shrug while walking over quickly and snatching the ornament, crossing your arms so it's tucked under and unseen.

Another awkward encounter to add to the tally.

"We're shopping for decorations," Benji grins while Bucky places his basket down next to him. "We have a Christmas party coming up! You'll come, right??"

Bucky is bent down at eye level with Benji, "Well, I'm not sure -"

"It's the Saturday the week before Christmas!" Benji starts rattling off the date and time of the party, listing who is expected to be there.

Bucky looks over at you, his eyebrows raised.

You shrug again, "Don't look at me, it's his world, we're just living in it. But yes, you're absolutely invited if you don't already have any plans. You too, Sam." You smile at them.

"Would it be rude if I bring a plus three? My sister and nephews are visiting," Sam asks.

"Are they Benji's age? We'd love to have them join too."

Benji pumps his fists, cheering to himself. "Yesss!" He skips ahead pulling Sam along, directing him towards the next few aisles while firing away questions about his nephews.

Bucky stands up and leans against the nearest end cap with a smirk on his face.

"Hi," his eyes narrow in suspicion as he quickly looks over at your crossed arms, "Are you really not going to show me whatever it is you're hiding?"

"Absolutely fucking not, thank you so much for asking."

He laughs at your answer while you try to think what to do next. "Fancy meeting you here though. What did Sam do to convince you to go shopping?"

"Oh, you know, good ol' fashion lies and deception."

"Ah, yes. Of course," you step closer, "The promise of food and future solitude to lure you out? And then the classic 'gotta make a quick pitstop' announcement halfway?"

He snaps his fingers and points your way, "That's the one."

You grin and hold your arms out in an invitation for a hug, making sure the ornament is tucked into your hand and sleeve. His smile softens when you step closer again and he accepts your hug.

"Happens to the best of us," you answer while trying to play it cool. With your arms around him, you give a slight squeeze that he returns. Reaching out your right arm very slowly to try and tuck the ornament on the shelf behind him discreetly. Your plan was to hide the ornament behind the larger items on the shelf behind him. Nothing gets by the super soldier though. As he goes to turn his head to see what you're up to, you have to think fast on a distraction and quickly leave a peck on his cheek that was now in front of you.

His eyes widen slightly as his head swivels back over at you and then narrow in suspicion. You finally drop the ornament as quietly and quickly as you can. He goes to turn again, this time lifting you off the ground and turning both of you for him to better see. Grabbing his face with both your hands now you continue to plant quick kisses all over.

"Is it that bad?!" He laughs, beaming over at you.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm also just so happy to see you," you feign innocence while trying to pull away. He squeezes you closer while tickling at your sides. You break into laughter as you continue to try and break free.

Sam and Benji both poke their heads around the aisle and smirk at each other, sharing in a discreet high five, before ducking back into the aisle out of sight.

Ornament now forgotten, Bucky doesn't take his eyes off you as you both smile warmly at each other. He quickly lifts you again and starts walking you both towards the direction the other two went. Pausing quickly he leans in with a smirk and gives you a quick kiss before continuing to shuffle the both of you forward.

You send a warning text off to Bucky the morning of the Christmas party:

'hi... just a quick heads up for tonight (and I mean that warning literally...) Benji has covered the house in mistletoe. Latest scheme seems to be getting us under all of them at some point. How would you like to proceed?'

'10 - 4. Do we get to mess with him?'

'Absolutely. 🫡 See ya tonight, friend.'

'Later, pal 🙄'

-----

Walking into the living room carrying a plate of snacks, a knock on the door grabs your attention and you hurry over to open it. Opening the door with one hand, while still balancing the snacks in the other. You spot the giant kissing ball hanging above the porch and roll your eyes.

Bucky and the Wilson's arrive at the same time as one of Theos's coworkers. You quickly greet them and usher them all through the door.

"Daaang, look at you. Your hair is so long," Sam comments walking in.

"Don't get used to this. I do not have the patience for this. Prudence insisted on straightening and styling it for me."

"Noted," he chuckles, "Did you add more colors, or were these always there and hidden in the curls?"

"I added more in. Benji used to tell his friends at school I was part My Little Pony."

"You had a pony..? I think I'm missing a reference," Bucky asks.

"It was a popular set of toys and an animated show called My Little Pony. It was colorful ponies with bright colored hair."

"Right...of course..."

This gets a small laugh from you as you place the snack tray on one of the many tables set up.

"YOU CAME!" Benji shouts running into the room.

Greetings and introductions made, Nora rushes over to say her own hellos and takes the Wilson's to meet the other kids that have arrived so far. Benji looks up at you expectantly. There's another sprig hanging above nearby, you just have to take 4 or 5 steps closer towards Bucky.

You stare back at Benji, not moving from your spot. "What are you lookin' at?"

He huffs and goes to catch up with Nora.

You move closer and kiss Bucky on the cheek, "This should be fun." Nodding your head up, "Quick recap, I've counted 6 so far. Best placed one is over by that bookcase," you tilt your head towards it, "He angled it juuust right so you don't notice it until you directly stand in that corner there."

"I don't know, you look very beautiful all dolled up. Might not be able to stick to this plan."

"You clean up pretty well yourself, but I'm not letting him win. Sorry." You pat his shoulder as Prudence and Monty steal Bucky away and you finish setting the last of the snacks and napkins out.

The front door opens as more people arrive.

Included in the latest arrivals is your neighbor Frank who walks in with his niece.

Benji walks by Bucky nodding his head "discreetly" towards the door and mouths, "Frank." He then mimes sticking his finger in his mouth and gagging while he continues to scramble away and stand near Nora once again.

-----

You're chatting with Sarah on the couch. Benji walks up and throws himself dramatically across your lap. "Hi, are you going to sit here all night?" He asks.

"Maybe, what's it to you?"

"Can we make gingerbread houses?"

"Prudence already set everything up on the kitchen counter, knock yourself out."

"But I need adult supervision."

"For what? To stop you from eating frosting? There's no tools involved."

"Moral support and guidance in knowing I'm doing something right. What if I put up 5 walls by accident?"

"Then I'd be very impressed from afar at your architectural brilliance."

He groans and rolls off your lap, walking away.

"The drama," you roll your eyes, "Do you think Aj and Cass would like to join him? We have plenty of kits."

"I'm sure they'd love that. I'll go ask them, thank you so much."

-----

You were now standing no more than three feet from the kitchen entry that had a bundle of mistletoe hanging above it. Sam and Nora standing to the left of you, the kitchen entry to your right. A table is behind you with a bowl of family friendly egg nog set up on it. Frank approaches you and the table. You greet eachother with friendly hellos and you introduce him to Sam. As they shake hands you take a few steps back to move out of the way of the table, offering Frank an empty cup.

In taking those steps back you were now dangerously close to the mistletoe-trapped entry with Frank still next to you. As you're asking how his niece is doing, you feel something hit the back of your head. Nora tries to discreetly cover her mouth to shield her reaction.

Your hand flies up to brush through your hair as you look at the ground. At your feet you see a gumdrop and a small gingerbread chunk laying there. You whip your head up and glare into the kitchen.

Benji's hands fly up in fake surrender, "It slipped! I told you I need adult supervision! These gingerbread pieces are crazy!"

The group of kids giggle as they pause their decorating to watch.

"Oh, I'll show you something crazy," you step into the kitchen and Benji takes off, ducking around you to escape. He slips in front of Theo and his co-workers playing it up like he was intently listening to their conversation, as if he had been there the whole time fake nodding along.

"Stop terrorizing your aunt," Theo says without even needing to assess the situation.

Benji clutches his chest, "I would never."

Bucky smirks into his drink as he watches from across the room. Quickly returning his attention to Monty and Prudence next to him.

Benji eventually sneaks his way back into the kitchen when all eyes and attention were finally off him.

-----

A couple times now you have taken turns in frustrating Benji to no end.

You're currently standing innocently under one of the many mistletoe, taking a sip from your glass in hand. You could see Benji in the corner of your peripheral trying to hide under a table. Bucky then walks by slowly. Benji's hands clench into anxious little fists in front of him, his small head poking up from the table ever so slightly. You and Bucky exchange a quick passing pleasantry to each other as he continues to walk by without stopping. Benji drops his head to the floor, groaning in frustration.

You smirk into your drink as you take another sip.

Nora and Theo have taken a different approach for the night and keep purposefully stepping under every mistletoe near Benji and giving each other exaggerated loud kisses. "Ugh, gross. Will you two stop it!" He crawls out from under the table and takes off across the room.

-----

"Hey, Y/n? Question for you..." You and Bucky both walk over to Sam who was standing by your decorated tree, "What am I looking at here?" He points to the top of the tree.

Bucky squints at the tree, his head tilting in confusion.

"That's tree monster..." You answer with a shrug.

"Tree what now?"

"We didn't have an official topper for our tree. Every year we'd just use a random toy up there. Benji came home from kindergarten one day with this masterpiece. I don't know what toy it used to be, but he sure did a number on it. And then I jokingly stuck wings to it thinking 'surely this will make us rethink this situation and get something else' but I was very mistaken. Theo added some googly eyes. Nora added the halo and reinforced it a bit...It's a complete abomination but we love him."

"It's deeply unsettling to look at, but I'm happy you have expressed your creative side as a family."

"I disagree," Bucky answers, "I think every store should have one, so that all families can enjoy having such a creative nightmare on their trees as well."

"Aww, thanks Bucky. I'm sure we could whip something up for you!" You joke.

"Ya know, I don't have a tree. So, darn...won't be needing one. Thanks for the offer."

"You don't have a tree??"

"A crypt has more decorations than this man's home. His place looks like someone moved out yesterday and left behind what they couldn't fit in the U-Haul."

"Thank you, Samuel."

-----

Your cousin Andrew arrives fashionably late with his wife Elyse and their 6 year old daughter Phoebe.

Phoebe squeals and runs up to Benji, throwing her adorable pudgey arms around him in a tight hug. His arms still at his sides while she squeezes tight, giggling with tiny glee. Benji always pretends to be annoyed but you all know he loves the attention. He pulls one of his arms free, patting her on the top of her head. "Hello, Phoebe. I'm glad you're here, I have a mission for you."

"Me??" She grins up at him while jumping up slightly.

"Ohh yeah, definitely you," he guides her across the room away from the adults.

"Andy!" You greet him with a hug when he walks up to you with Elyse, "Where's my Phoebs?" You look around his legs.

"She's -" he looks down and around the room, "She's in the building, she walked in before me. She saw Benji and took off with him."

"That can't be good," you laugh and introduce Andy and Elyse to Bucky, Sam, and Sarah.

During your conversation Bucky suddenly catches his balance and looks down as he feels a small body crash into him and wrap their arms around his legs.

Bright hazel eyes with a Cheshire smile beam up at him, the large grin showcasing her missing front bottom tooth.

"Hello there," Bucky laughs, greeting his new small friend.

"Hi, Uncle Bucky!" she giggles while Bucky's eyes widen.

"Oh no, it's contagious. Meddlingpunkitis has spread to the next youngest," you gasp dramatically while bending down to scoop up the giggling little blonde, "What will we dooooo?!" You cry out, "Not my little Phoebe!" You bend over again with her in your arms, hanging her upside down while tickling into her sides.

She giggles and squirms, trying to escape.

-----

Benji walks up with his gingerbread creation in hand on a platter. "Ta-daaaa," he sings, holding it up to you.

"Wow! Great job, Mr. I Need Supervision. Is that...?"

Benji rotates the plate so the front is now in better view. "It's a chapel!" He grins.

"That better be Mr. and Mrs. Claus..."

Closer inspection revealed one gingerbread figure with a black and yellow frosting lined arm and a bowtie, the other decorated with multi color frosting hair in a white outline "dress".

”You're exhausting, you know that? One part of me is really proud of you, because you did an amazing job on this. The other part really wants to smother you....with love of course," you give him a side eye, "Go put that back in the kitchen and never speak of this again."

Benji grins as he turns and retreats back towards the kitchen area, sneaking in a quick detour to show Sam his handywork. Sam immediately pulls his phone out to snap a quick picture of Benji holding it up to the camera with a grin.

-----

"I have an idea but it might be a tiny bit of a gamble and slightly outrageous.." you whisper to Bucky as you finally reunite in the same area.

Nora had just finished forcing everybody to gather around to take a series of group photos.

You've successfully dodged all the mistletoe encounters so far.

"How outrageous are we talking? I'm not kissing Sam."

"Oh come on, I wasn't asking that - unless-" you hold up your fingers to your chin in thought.

"No." He points a quick finger towards you.

"Okay, okaay. Fine."

You lean in closer and fill him in on your next plan.

"...you want me to kiss your neighbor?"

"Obviously the objective here is to avoid you actually needing to kiss her, but it's a sacrifice for the greater good here if it's unavoidable, Buck. Or we could go back to your Sam plan," you smile as sweetly as you can over at him.

"Y'know, at first I didn't recognize it, but now I definitely see that same evil little twinkle that's usually in Benji's eyes, and let me tell you," he leans closer, bending slightly to reach your height and points at your eyes, "It's absolutely genetic. You should see yourself right now."

"You think my eyes twinkle?" you grin up at him.

"Y/n," he sighs but starts to laugh.

"Pleeeease," you unleash the pout.

"That," he points at you again, "is even worse. You're serious?"

"Aren't you like, trained in stealth? You can do it!"

"Thank you so much for the pep talk, but I still don't understand why you want me to kiss your neighbor."

"You are so hung up on that tiny detail! I can assure you, it will not get that far. I had baked goods and candy launched at my head when I got too close earlier, I can't even begin to imagine what stunt will happen if you get close enough. He's probably gonna lower himself down from the ceiling somehow like something out of Mission Impossible. Oooor, if you don't wanna kiss Sam, I'll just gooo--" you start to step away but a hand shoots out and stops you, pulling you back to your original spot.

He glares over at you, "Not funny."

"A little funny?" You squint while pinching your fingers.

"Unbelievable," he places a quick kiss to your temple and releases your arm as he storms off towards the next target area.

"Go get 'em, tiger!" You call after him, just loud enough so only he's the one to hear you.

"It's white wolf," he mutters back.

"For real?"

Bucky starts to approach your neighbor who is standing under one of the many mistlebombs hanging around, this one strung up above a popular gathering area of the living room.

Before he can get within 3ft of dear sweet unsuspecting Sylvia, yelling erupts in the room with a chorus of AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!s. Suddenly 3 small bodies take down the super soldier. Benji leading the charge grabs onto an arm and attempts to climb up Bucky's back while Sarah's boys both tackle a leg of their own, making sure to get him at the back of the knees in their takedown.

Your eyes widen as you watch the group of them land in a heap on the floor.

You hold your breath waiting to see if you should run over and check on them but let out a relieved sigh when Bucky gives a dramatic roar and starts play fighting back with them while sitting up. The boys giggling and continuing their shouting and attack.

"Tiny savages," you shake your head.

"Should we help?" Nora asks walking up to you.

"Nah, I'm sure they're fine," as soon as the words are out of your mouth, sweet little Phoebe, not wanting to be left out of the excitement, joins in and hops onto Bucky's back, throwing her little arms around his neck.

"Oh shit. Hey, White Wolf? Ya good?" You hold your thumb up and then down.

You see a vibranium thumb pop up.

"See? He's got this."

-----

It was starting to get late. Most of the guests have already left. You're finishing up clearing off some of the tables with help from Bucky.

"You're our guest, you're not supposed to be doing clean up labor."

He shrugs, "I don't mind."

"Where'd you get the bracelet?" You laugh noticing the multi color beads circling his wrist.

"Phoebe gave it to me on their way out," he twists his wrist so the rest of it is in view.

"So stylish," you compliment while stacking some plates together.

Sam walks up with a tired AJ carried on his back.

"Y/n, as always, it's been a pleasure. Thank you so much for inviting all of us."

Sarah walks up carrying Cass who is already knocked out.

"Of course!" You pull him in for a hug, "Thank you so much for coming. It was an absolute pleasure having you all with us. Bye AJ, it was nice meeting you," you reach up to give him a fist bump that he sleepily returns.

"I hope you all can visit again soon," you pull Sarah in for a hug next and run your hand along sleeping Cass' back, "Merry Christmas!"

"Do you guys need any help?" Bucky asks while passing Sarah her bag and another bag filled with cookies the boys decorated.

"Nope, we're good. Theo is grabbing a taxi for us. You coming with?"

Bucky looks at his watch and nods with a shrug, "Probably a good idea."

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night," Sam waves while walking off towards the door.

"Wait!" Benji rushes down the stairs with two red envelopes.

"For you," he hands one over to Sam, "Merry Christmas!" He jumps up for a high five.

"Is this my wedding invitation finally?" Sam holds the envelope up to the light.

You give him a push towards the door, "It's a Christmas card. Get out of here."

"Sure, sure. See you at the wedding!" He smirks while stepping outside.

You shake your head and start to follow them out.

"Cab should be here in 5," Theo announces by the doorway before going back inside.

You step out onto the porch and give the Wilson's a final wave while they wait by the curb, checking out the neighbors light displays and decorations.

The large kissing ball with multiple mistletoe jammed in there hangs above you, dangling from the short roof over the porch.

Benji hops out onto the porch with Bucky following behind, pulling his leather jacket on.

"For you!" Benji hands the last envelope to Bucky, "Merrryyy Christmas!" He wraps his arms around Bucky's waist.

"Merry Christmas, bud. Thanks for the card."

Benji stares at him expectantly and then looks over at you.

"Am..I.. supposed to open it now??" Bucky asks.

Benji shrugs, still staring you both down, "You don't have to."

You scratch at your neck and try to discreetly point up, signaling to Bucky why the stare down was happening. His eyes follow up and you see him realize what's going on.

"Ok, I'll save it for later then. See ya," Bucky holds his hand up for a high five to Benji, who gladly winds back his arm to give the strongest high five he could.

Benji quickly realizes standing right there isn't going to get him the results he wants and he starts walking slowly back inside, "See ya, F.U.B.!"

Bucky's eyebrows scrunch while looking at you.

"I'm assuming that's Future Uncle Bucky," you sigh and answer for him.

"Ah," he grins, "Thanks again for having us, pal."

"You're very welcome, friend. One more fake out for the road?"

Bucky leans in close, you both tilt your heads, he slowly lifts his hand.. and pretends to pluck an eyelash off your cheek.

"Got it," Bucky jokes while pulling back, pretending to blow the lash off his finger.

"OH MY GOD! WILL YOU JUST KISS ALREADY?!" Benji throws his arms up in exasperation, closing the front door with a loud thump behind him.

You both try to hold in your laughter and keep a straight face, but Sam's laughter echos loud and clear. You peak over and see Benji ducking down from the window.

Keeping your platonic facade going, you both give an exaggerated firm hand shake. You can feel the intense laser focus stare coming at you from the windows again.

"Goodnight, ol' chum. Let me know when you get home safe, please."

He gives you a salute and you go to turn the doorknob but nothing happens. You shake it and push against the door.

"Locked you out?"

"Yuuup," you pull your phone out and pull up your bank app. Nodding to yourself, "Yup, okay. Bucky, break the window."

"..What?"

"Break the window," you point to the pane of glass, more specifically the one you know the watch guard was staring out of behind the sheer curtain.

"What??"

"I'm going to pay for it, come on."

He stares at you like you've grown an extra head.

"Fine, we can use the spare key if you wanna be all boring about it. I'm going to need a boost," you step closer to the edge of the porch, looking up at the roof covering the porch.

"A boost?"

"What? You think we keep our spare key under the mat like a bunch of fools?"

"Or, hear me out..." He reasons, "You call Nora and you can use the door without the need to scale your roof or smash in a window."

"Booo," you pout up at him.

"There is another option..." he steps closer.

"I'm listening..."

He gives a subtle nod to the door where no doubt you can still feel a pair of eyes burning into your head through the window.

"Aw man, but then the tiny tyrant will win."

"Does it still count if you kiss this guy?" He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a Ziploc bag, holding up the "Bucky" gingerbread man Benji decorated.

"Oh my god," you laugh and swat the cookie away from your face.

"Fine, I'll put him back with the missus," he lifts up another Ziploc bag high enough so you can see the colorful "hair" frosting peak out of the pocket signalling he also has your gingerbread person in there and tucks both back into the pocket.

"Unbelievable, do you have the building in there too?"

He grabs your right hand and pulls you in closer, wrapping your arm around his neck. "Nah, left that for the next confectionery nuptials."

You shake your head with a laugh and bring your other arm around his neck.

"Thanks for dealing with us, once again," you smile up at him.

"Phoebe was a nice addition this time. Do you get to see her often?"

"Just the occasional family gathering and birthdays. Definitely not often enough. I'm sure Andy would be more than willing to pawn her off for a night or two if asked. She's just as mischievous as Benji though. Her mischief is more animal based. Her teachers call her a Disney princess because she tries to befriend every animal she sees. She also tries luring many squirrels and wild life into their house."

"Yikes," he laughs.

"Ride's here, Buck!" Sam announces while helping Sarah and the boys get in.

He gently grabs your waist with his vibranium hand and brings his right hand up your neck, moving to cradle the back of your head. You see a bright flash of light come from the window and before you can investigate further Bucky quickly dips you backwards while giving you a sweet and tender kiss. Your grip tightens around him, giggling in surprise.

"I want a copy of that," Bucky points towards the door when he lifts you back up.

"Copy of what?" You ask, a little dazed still.

Benji cracks open the door with Nora's camera in hand, "We have a ring doorbell too. I'll send the video link with it."

"Excellent, thanks. Goodnight, Doll." He smirks and gives you another quick kiss before turning to meet up with the waiting taxi.

-----

The next day you receive a text:

'This is getting framed.'

Attached was a picture of Benji's Christmas card stuck to Bucky's refrigerator by a magnet.

Sorry for the long wait! You rush a miracle, you get rotten miracles. If you'd like to see more, send me your ideas. 😉

Dividers I believe were from @firefly-graphics

Next: Part 6 I Caught Fire

Taglist: @pono-pura-vida @bitchy-bi-trash @random-writer-23 @jvanilly @clintsupremacy @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @firstcashheroathlete @stany0url0calwh0res111 @sjsmith56 @eliwinchester99 @tbhidkbutok @babymady @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @its-daydreamer23 @capswife @thecubanator2 @wintermunsonreads @buckybarnessimpp @moon-light1928 @emily-roberts @jeanbarton @lottiehernandez @tellenically @trixxietat @imdoingbetternow @maximoffrogersslut @samsgirl93 @lovebittenbyevans @inwhichiramble @jbuckybarnesfan @daemonslittlebitch @marvel88 @spiderman-stilinski @marvelfreakgirl @tinkerbelle67 @assassinscross @foolishwaitersblog @jasminex12 @buckysbaby-doll @kilikina34512 @rintheemolion @themorningsunshine @saranghaey @je-suis-prest-rachel @alovecraft @openup-yourmind  @alicedopey @ilovetaquitosmmmm @sebbystanlover-vk @s0upm1x @ivorycrow19 @songoficecreamandfireworks

[izzyandcrew]

History of: Pizza, Chocolate chip cookies, Hamburgers, French fries, Macaroni and cheese, Beignets, Butter chicken, Tiramisu, Nachos

[bumblebeebats]

I feel like at least 95% of online book discourse could be solved by acknowledging that some books are french fries and some books are vegetables. Vegetables, when cooked well, can be mind-blowingly amazing, and when cooked badly, are atrocious. Fries, when cooked well, can be mind-blowingly amazing, and when cooked badly, are atrocious. Fries are great, but if you're the kind of person who gleefuly announces that they'd rather DIE than touch a vegetable any time the topic comes up, you're annoying. Vegetables are good for you, but if you're the kind of person who never shuts up about how you've been raw keto since 1993 and anyone who enjoys fries is a tasteless idiot, you are also annoying. Every year someone writes an op-ed about how fast food is destroying the fabric of society, when humans have enjoyed oily and salty food as part of a balanced diet literally since cooking was invented. Also, we all know that what is really destroying the fabric of society is capitalism, amen

[starrydaycare]

CG Nexus!!! CG Nexus!!! CG Nexus!!! CG Nexus!! Yeah yeah yeah!!

AKJAAN NEXUS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES TO WRITE FORRRR

THIS IS A FUNKY REQUEST/pos

(Also I didn't know if you were just stating something, asking for a moodboard, or asking for headcanons. Soooo I made a moodboard AND headcanons (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠))

🌌Carvegiver!Nexus Headcanons!

🌕Nexus makes for a super fun caregiver! He's good with kids between 5-12, as well as younger teens, but is willing to take care of you regardless of your age range! He's not really okay with changing diapers or potty training, so keep that in mind. He'll try if you push it, but it's reaaally not his thing.

🌌He's more of a protective, fun older brother than anything. He'll get into mischief with you, pulling pranks on Dark Sun and anyone else, teasing others with you, and so on. And when you two get caught? You'll run, and he'll run with you, giggling on the way. If he has to, he'll take the fall for the two of you.

"No, Dark Sun. It was my idea; don't blame them! They're just a kid, it's my fault."

🌕He likes having you nearby, as he doesn't want to risk you getting hurt or anything. With the stuff they deal with on a regular basis? You're staying with him. Sit down, get comfy, here's a cookie 🍪

🌌He really likes playing video games, so if you're younger he'll sit you on his lap while he does so, making sure to watch his language around you. He'll explain everything that's age appropriate to you, showing you his game happily.

🌕If you're older, then he'll play multiplayer games with you! You'd sit in a blanket fort the two of you made together, controllers in both of your hands as you play Fortnite, Minecraft, Mario Kart, whatever. Snacks nearby, of course.

"You got it! Go, go, yes! Yes, Wait–No! Da-aaang it, they got me! You can do it; you've got this!"

🌌While he's working he'll explain to you what he's doing. Regressed, you maaay not understand it all. Or maybe you're a really smart baby/kiddo! Regardless, you like listening to him talk about his latest creation, excitement and happiness in his voice <3

🌕He'll show you all of his inventions, both current and past, if you show interest. He loves talking about his creations, even if it's to his kiddo. If anything, that makes it all the better. He loves sharing this with his kiddo, bonding over it with you!

"Yes! And this is a portal. Orrr... It's supposed to be. I'm not finished with it, yet."

🌌He's always willing to get you whatever you wish for. You're spoiled rotten, given anything and everything! He loves buying you stuff, so please let him. When I say anything and everything, I mean anything and everything. French Fries? Already in your tummy. A new toy? Check your toy box! A kingdom under your name? Alllll yours. Every single dimension? Yours <3

🌕He's pretty affectionate, believe it or not. Always ruffling your hair, carrying you around, giving you bear hugs, calling you names like "Buddy" and "Kiddo", gifting you stuff, making you stuff, ect,. Of course, if any of those things make you uncomfortable, then he'll stop. Making you uncomfortable is the last thing he wants to do.

🌌He's very protective, in fact, you're one of the most protected people to exist if you ask me. No one dares to bully or tease you rudely, push you, or even do so much as glare at you in a way that's not jokingly or affectionately.

🌕Overall, he's a really good caregiver! You're lucky to have him as a CG if you do.

🌌🌕💤

[la-merlaison]

Louis XIII and his cooking adventures 🍴🥞

When it comes to our Louis XIII cult, I often refer to the king's iconic omelettes, but what about his other stuff? For example, he really loved sweets (like beignets or jams), but could he also cook them? The answer is YES, and that's not even all yet!

Louis was a curious child who's head was already filled with various interests and cooking became one of them when he was only ten years old at the time (which is quite unusual for a king). First ever case of the king cooking was recorded on february 11th of 1611, when he was preparing milk soups for the Duchess of Guise / Catherine of Cleves. So milk soup, most likely, could be Louis' very first dish made by himself!

Of course many kids have a sweet tooth and our precious omelette king was not an exception which I guess is why he started to learn how to cook mostly from recipes of sweets. Also, take a shot every time I say "sweets" or "cooking" (don't..) 🕊️

So, among 17th century royal sw- *ahem* DESSERTS we had in our menu – a jam, quince jelly, beignets (basically french donuts) and marzipans. In a well-known, among many of y'all Louis stalkers, journal of his doctor Jean Héroard I found some clear evidence of Louis XIII cooking some of these himself, so here it is feat. me periodically panicking over my own translation because my half-french friend is too busy atm and I don’t wanna bother them:

June 6th, 1611 — «He walks through the corridor from the study to the paneled gallery where he had an oven for making jams, he is amused to see how it's done.» I know it's not exactly him cooking, but I just wanted to leave it here :")

October 15th, 1612 — «Madame comes to see him; he has fun making jam with Mademoiselle de Vendôme»

January 29th, 1613 — «He often has fun making almond milk and marzipans at Madame's house.»

March 6th, 1615 — «It was very cold; he goes to the kitchen, makes omelettes, beignets, fried eggs; it was he who made them and ate a little of that he tasted.» Pretty sure the last few words could be translated better because it's always rather my terrible french or a little confusing way of Héroard's writing, so feel free to correct me.

February 3rd, 1616 — «He is preparing a small snack of dry jam for the queen, who must come to him at two o'clock. After going back to bed, he happily forms various battalions of his little silver men.»

February 5th, 1622 — «He leaves Saint-Germain, goes to Pontoise, where he enjoys making and eating beignets; while dining at Cormeille, he suddenly goes to the goblet in which he makes little cream puffs.» The original text says «petits choux au lait» and I have no idea what could that exactly be, but it seems like some sort of little éclair-like buns made of milk? Little cream puffs?? Maybe by «choux au lait» Jean meant «choux à la crème» which were invented back in 1540 in France.

I know you've been waiting for the quince jelly too, but unfortunately I couldn't find anything about the jelly :c Though, judging by what we've got here It's still quite possible Louis could cook quince jelly as well, hmm... Anyways, if you know something I don't know of the jelly mystery, hit me up!

In the future, this great love for desserts will be inherited by his son Philippe I, Duke of Orléans (brother of Louis XIV), who is also a very interesting character in history!!

In conclusion I must say that Louis not only had a sweet tooth, but also a big love for trying out different things, all this curiosity and pure excitement, even when it comes to something so simple and familiar like food, will never ever stop to fascinate me :"D

Btw speaking about Louis 'trying out different things', I of course still have a lot to share on this as well! Stay tuned and have a good day/night 💘💘💘

[spacelazarwolf]

Hi. So I sent the first ask saying I'm aroace and that you're not the only person who thinks the manifesto is bullshit. I've read your post about it and thank you for articulating that because I was Way Too Tired to try myself and I wouldn't have been able to really tell much of anyone anyway.

To your point about it sounding like they don't think romantic attraction actually exists, I thought so too and a friend found this on their blog

(tumblr dot com /aromanticmanifesto/711278164387758080/angelofmusings-blood-on-my-french-fries in case anyone wants to check context. it's full of more of that ridiculous psuedo academic language that makes my eyes hurt despite over 7 years at uni)

Anyway yeah the idea that romantic attraction doesn't exist is just so fucking ridiculous and the assumption that it's "the naturalizing power of amatonormativity" and also "inherently violent" is just insulting and queerphobic. My ex was in love with me. The choices she made to avoid treating me with unkindness, manipulation, or violence, were the choices she made with love. Not in spite of it. The reason I'm trans/ace and yet haven't been sexually mistreated is because my ex chose to treat me with care because she loved me.

Some of the politics is interesting, but none of it is about aromanticism. Treating aromanticism like a political stance that everyone can and should enact on a personal level is bullshit. And queerphobic.

literally!!! it reads like some neoliberal (who doesn’t see themself as a neoliberal bc libs r bad but in name only) from portland who has never spoke to a queer person outside of their (probably very white) social circle accidentally stumbling upon the concept of anachocommunism and then like. thinking they invented it????? and somehow have this completely new and inventive idea that no one has ever had before, and it’s all because of their aromanticism and definitely not because queer communities tend toward communal outlooks on life and tend to be anti capitalist. and like, this isn’t the first time a 21st century queer person has acted like they invented a concept that’s centuries old and it sure won’t be the last. but it was absolutely fucking wild to watch someone say “yeah we should have communes and communal farming and do community care and mutual aid. aromanticism created this btw.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Knowledge

For @amonthofwhump 12 Days of Whumpmas, Day 2: Krampus

Sensory Overload | Temptation | Whipping | Comfort: Decorating Cookies

Death Valley on AO3

CW: Past trauma, dissociative state, references to Noah's gaslighting and emotional abuse

-

Somewhere in Illinois, Present Day

It was a perfectly normal place to park his truck between jobs, while driving to the next meetup point. Nothing suspicious at all about choosing to stop here, in this tiny little town in the middle of nowhere. No reason for Noah to call, check into his phone, look at the keylogger on his laptop, or start digging through the scraps of a life Finn Schneider had - however painstakingly - built.

No reason for Noah to even think twice.

Even though he knew, he knew Noah would think about him. Would look at the location on the GPS tracker in the truck and see if the phone and the laptop matched up. See if there was any activity. Look at what Finn searched for, what keywords he might use.

Noah always knew everything.

Not this, though.

At least... not yet.

The man who had once been called Finn Schneider stared through the windshield of his truck into the diner that took up half of the enormous truck stop, settled snugly against an interstate highway with another, smaller country highway intersecting. Through the windows, a few booths held lonely truck drivers with eyes glued to a football game playing on a television up on the wall. A gaggle of teenagers giggled over shared plates of french fries and cups of weak coffee doused in enough creamer to turn it nearly white. A man with two small children watched with a tired smile as the kids gestured wildly.

On the interstate, traffic roared by - people heading home to their families after a long work day, as the sun began to set.

Here Finn sat.

His heart was in his throat, his knuckles white where he was still gripping the wheel. Beside him on the front seat, Little Mother yawned, her teeth clicking when her mouth shut, and slowly blinked at him. In the back of the cab, the kittens were playing with the catnip mice and other toys he’d bought for them. One made mincemeat of a stuffed penguin, casually ripping the stuffing out of with a predator’s zeal for a satisfied hunt.

He could do two things, right now.

He could walk inside, order dinner at the diner, have a shower in the facilities along the back, call Noah, sit and eat, and then head back into the truck to watch a movie and sleep. It would be the safe thing to do - what Noah expected him to do. What he always did, at the end of a day driving to his next task. 

Call Noah, get the details on the next job, and keep living how he had been for so long, for almost two decades.

But... there was one other thing he could do, as well.

Riskier.

Not safe.

Noah could find out what he was up to, know that Finn had… doubts. Worries. That he wasn't sure what was real. He didn’t know what would happen, if Noah knew that there were things he said that Finn didn’t really believe any longer. Probably he’d just… talk to him, like he did sometimes. An arm slung over his shoulder, a hand rubbing his back, close enough to his face to make Finn tense with the memory of another man's diesel smell.

Noah would explain with casual certainty that the truth was a version of reality that didn’t quite match the one seen through Finn’s eyes.

But then, he couldn’t trust his eyes, his mind. Not anymore. Not since Robert. His mind invented shadows, his eyes saw shimmers of the bones in the basement, the bars of his cage. His reality was laced around every edge with too much darkness.

But...

That didn't mean Noah's reality was true.

How long he sat there, arguing with himself, he wasn't sure. People walked into the diner or out of it, laughing and joking, bundled up against the harsh winter chill. The teenagers left. Some truck drivers left, while others headed inside for their turn at hot showers and hot food, sometimes giving Finn a sidelong wave, thinking he was one of them. 

He was.

Sort of.

Was he?

He felt like Adam and Eve, weighing the fruit of the tree of knowledge, knowing he shouldn’t take it. Holding it heavy in one hand, while the serpent whispered Ihr werdet mitnichten des Todes sterben... What if Noah was angry with him, for looking? What if he found nothing, only his own madness?

What if Noah was right, that he had lost his mind in Robert's house, that he could never reclaim it?

But... Noah lied.

Finn was more sure of it with each passing year. He couldn't trust his own mind, his own eyes, his own heartbeat, but... he could trust documentation, he could trust words written down, records... maybe Noah would be angry, but the idea of not knowing was an agony worse than whatever the knowledge he discovered might be.

Wasn’t it?

Finn must have left his own mind again, too lost in trying to decide if he wanted to know the truth or not, if he wanted to take a bite of the apple from the serpent’s hands. Or was Noah the serpent? 

Somewhere in his panic, his mind and body must have split apart into two halves. It had happened before. His body went around doing things while his mind was locked in a cycle of thoughts he couldn't pull himself away from.

It was why Noah said he couldn’t be left alone, needed to be tracked. Sometimes he left his body, and stopped answering the phone.

He blinked.

The next time Finn was aware of himself, he wasn't in the truck. He wasn't in the diner, either.

Instead, he found himself walking past a water tower, halfway across the length of the tiny little town, crossing railroad tracks with the wind pushing against his back.

His hands were in his coat pockets - his body had put on his coat, apparently - and his face burned from the biting freeze of air around him. He’d pulled a knit cap down over his head, which he couldn’t remember doing, either. His cell phone wasn’t in his pocket, and his heart skipped and then picked up speed again.

He came to a stop so sudden his boots scraped on gravel along the side of the road, staring straight ahead.

He must have left it in the truck.

Noah would-

Maybe not know.

If he didn't call, he wouldn't know.

Right?

Someone drove past, slowed their truck down, watched him. It was a town small enough that even a single stranger walking through the tiny town square was noticed. His hometown had been small, a little like that, although not this small. His mother would have slowed her car down, known every cousin visiting family, every boyfriend or girlfriend meeting someone’s parents for the first time. 

The town square was more of an oblong oval shape, vaguely uneven on one side. To his right, two big grain silos rose two stories high, gleaming metal that blinded him when the setting sun bounced off the exterior. To his left, old brick buildings that seemed to lean on each other for support, places that had once been a grocery store, some kind of antique shop now maybe. In front of one, where the brick had seen better days and some of it lay crumbled on the sidewalk, was a strange, incongruously gorgeous red sports car.

That building had a light on upstairs. He could see a man on an exercise bike through the window, watching a TV.

Finn headed straight across the road, passing through a small park in the center of the town square that was only big enough to hold a picnic area, two large trees - one decorated for Christmas - and a single stone bench. 

In front of him now, there was a post office, the town library, and what seemed like a combination bank, place to pay utility bills, and… town hall. He frowned, the expression faint and barely-there, wondering what he was doing here.

There was nothing in this town. Nothing to it.

What was he doing?

Then his gaze went back to the library, the entire inside warmly lit against the outside chill. He could look right in and see a woman with two small children encouraging them to look at a bookshelf, a toddler playing at a table full of legos while her mother sipped something from a paper cup, the librarian moving one pile of books from one table to another with patient certainty. 

Then, all at once, Finn understood what he was looking for:

A computer.

An old desktop,squatting on a folding table as if it were merely an afterthought, someone’s donated castoff. But the screen was on, the chair in front of it was empty, and Finn knew what he wanted to do, how he could keep Noah from knowing he'd done it.

He walked inside, steeling himself for the way all three women stared at him openly, without even trying to hide it. The weight of their gaze prickled on his skin; he was far more used to being ignored or going unnoticed.

“Welcome in,” The librarian said, in a tone somewhere between baffled and amused. “What can we help you with tonight?”

“I would like to use your computer,” Finn said, and pretended he didn’t see the sudden burst of interest in the faces of the women with children here, who glanced at each other when they heard his accent. “Mine is-... mine is broken.”

Why he bothered with the lie, answering a question she hadn’t asked, was beyond him. His heart beat so fast and so hard he was sure he must sound out of breath.

But she smiled, nodding knowingly. “Of course. You must be one of Bob Kaufmann’s cousins in for Greta’s hundredth, huh?”

Finn leaped on the excuse. He’d be gone in a few hours. No one would ever need to know. “Ah, yes, I am. How did you know?” He managed a grin, and the librarian laughed. She didn’t see it wasn’t real, was simply painted-on. He never smiled and meant it, unless it was for Little Mother or the kittens. Not anymore.

“Well, you know. There were some signs that you might not be local to the area,” She replied, dry as a bone, and he huffed a laugh - surprised to hear it, and realize it had come from him. 

“I see. You don’t mind if I use the computer?”

“Oh, not at all. It’s got a sixty-minute limit and then it’ll kick you out, but just let me know and I’ll let you back in.” She waved a hand and went back to her work, and he nodded, moving through the small space packed with bookshelves on every side until he made it to the computer chair and took a seat.

It didn’t take the full hour.

He didn’t know Noah’s real name, but he knew the phone number his wife called him from, searched for where the area code for that number was located.

He also knew Noah’s license plate number. Then he started looking, city by city in the state the license plate was from, at vehicle registration lists.

The third city he searched within the area code popped up a name.

Searching for house taxes using that name gave him an address, he owned a home in a cul-de-sac, he owned three other cars besides the truck. There was a second homeowner listed on his house taxes.

Edward Paulson. Wife - Christina Paulson. Finn looked her up by name and city, found a nurse by her name listed as working at a hospital there. She had a facebook, an instagram, and on the facebook were pictures of the same woman, two young boys, and… Noah.

Smiling, an arm around her shoulders just like he did with Finn sometimes. Another photo with a hand to her lower back.

Did he rub her back, when she was scared? Tell her things weren't the way she thought, that she couldn't trust her own eyes?

Did she know about Finn?

He asked politely for a piece of paper and a pen, a noise like static rising in his mind.

When he made it back to his truck, a harsh wind had risen and his nose and cheekbones felt cut to ribbons by the freeze. Little Mother greeted him with a cheerful chirp, and he rubbed a hand over the perfect soft round curve of her head, his other hand holding onto the names and address he had written down folded inside his pocket, while he stared at what he had done but did not remember doing before he left the truck.

Sometime between the temptation and taking action, he had set up his laptop to play a movie. There was a fight scene, tinny voices shouting. His phone was charging beside it. If Noah checked, he would see what movie was playing. He would think Finn had not left the truck.

Unless he'd called and Finn hadn't answered.

Panic thrilled through him again, but there was no missed call. Noah hadn't tried to talk to him. He could still call him later, pretend everything was normal.

That he wasn't-

That Finn wasn't giving in to his doubts.

For a while, he sat and stared again, willing the static noise in his mind to soften, so he could hear himself think again. Then he took a deep breath and grabbed his backpack.

He headed in to get a shower and some food, taking his phone with him this time so Noah would see that when the movie finished, he headed into the diner.

Normal night. 

Perfectly normal.

He would go to sleep early tonight.

He had a long, long drive to make tomorrow.

-

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