#tupperware Christmas

[robindavis]

Think Christmas! Buy Tupperware from my site using Robin Davis as rep. Start buying your Christmas gifts now. There's something here for everyone. You can buy Tupperware from the privacy of your own home with out having a Tupperware party!

[gideonisms]

Obsessed with people who are cheap about things that are not that hard to acquire at low prices. Yes we SHOULD be taking tp from work. Nona was right

[nizynskis]

my mama worries abt me bc she thinks I can’t take care of myself but when I came over yesterday to cook she takes leftover ANYTHING and puts it in the garbage…the sugar bag sprang a leak boom it’s in the trash…JUST TRANSFER IT TO A REUSABLE CONTAINER!!!!

[pretty-little-fools]

[unheavenlybody]

tried one of my cookies and ummm not to toot my own horn but they came out so tasty ! ... the recipe is not very complex tbh but whatever. all the chaos of today was worth it :-) excited to plate them all nicely tmrw and hav others try them >:)

[boyenthusiast]

everyone clap i just threw out my ex's shit

[phosphorus-noodles]

absolutely incredible the things I’ve found in this dorm today

[goblinbabe666]

me: hey the leftovers are cool and ready to be put away. can you do me a huge favor? divide the soup in half and put one half in a gallon ziploc bag laying down flat on the bottom shelf of the freezer. the other half please put in the blue circular tupperware container in the fridge. don’t use the big one because there won’t be a ton left.

my ex: yeah! no problem!

the soup:

me: ….okay yeah sure great

[tomthefanboy]

[supernovafics]

requesting for the ill be there for you universe! the kids are coming over so steve and r plan a lil dinner party… well they make the dinner together… and its just a little too domestic…. bonus if they end up dancing to some silly song on the radio because arent we all a sucker for dancing in the kitchen 😭😭😭😭😭 the kids walk in on them and are like 🤨🤨 those two need to get together now so baddddddddddd

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k words

warnings: explicit language

summary: in which a new year’s dinner at the apartment sparks a bet— that you and steve are completely unaware of— among the friend group 

author's note: thank u for the request !! happy new year<33

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

Steve heard the knock on the door first; you were way too engrossed in singing along to the song that was loudly playing to notice the sound. 

He maneuvered around you in the kitchen to go answer the door as you took a quick peek in the oven to check on the lasagnas. 

It was your idea to have this “New Year’s dinner” at the apartment— since you and Steve had been sick during the holidays and couldn’t see anyone, this was to make up for that— and Steve agreed. Of course, Robin and Eddie said that they would come, and then the kids were an immediate yes as well. 

Even though your and Steve’s collective cooking skills were not the best, you both still wanted to attempt and cook something for everyone, instead of simply ordering a couple of pizzas or takeout from some place. So, you got a lasagna recipe from Miss Johnson that she promised was very basic and couldn’t really be messed up; and so far, she’d been right. Although you did initially have to remake the sauce because of a mess up that you fully blamed on Steve and he fully blamed on you. But, after that, everything else luckily went fine. 

When Steve opened the door and you looked over to see everyone bounding into the apartment, it was then that you remembered just how big the friend group was— you could only imagine what that elevator ride up to the apartment had been like. 

“Is this The Breakfast Club soundtrack?” Robin asked, laughing as she slipped off her coat.

“Yes,” Steve answered. “This is what I’ve been subjected to for the past week.”

You immediately rolled your eyes at his words, which you somehow managed to hear over the loud music. “Oh, shut up, you were just singing along to the last song with me.”

“There’s only some truth to that,” He said as he walked over to the record player to turn the music down a bit. 

Everyone settled at the dining table that Steve’s mom bought for you two for the Thanksgiving dinner that you’d been forced to have here with your parents— that was still somehow a memory that lingered harshly in the back of your mind, like most interactions with your parents did. The table was only meant to fit six people, so the desk chairs that normally sat in your bedrooms were pulled out and placed at the table, and then two foldable chairs were borrowed from your other next door neighbor; this guy in his mid-sixties who would have weekly poker nights with his friends. You would continuously joke around with Steve and tell him that he should join in on the poker nights. In response, he’d always simply roll his eyes at you because you knew that he was bad at poker and he’d also rather not spend his Tuesday nights with random old men. 

Mike walked over to you and handed you a tupperware full of what you could tell were gingerbread cookies. “Since you missed the Christmas party, my mom wanted me to give these to you.”

You immediately smiled. “Holy shit, God bless that woman. Please tell her I said thank you.” 

He nodded at that and then went over to the table, sitting down next to El. 

Steve went back over to where you were in the kitchen and started reaching for the tupperware, but you immediately shooed his hand away. When he simply pouted at you, you rolled your eyes and then opened it so that he could grab a cookie, which he did and then broke it in half so that he could give a piece of it to you. 

“Is it just me or have they been acting extra old married couple lately?” Dustin asked, looking away from the interaction that just happened. 

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Max answered almost immediately and pretty much everyone else simply nodded in agreement.

Neither you nor Steve were paying any attention to the conversation that was currently taking place barely ten feet away from you; instead you both were focused on finishing up the food. You were pulling one of the lasagnas out of the oven and Steve was grabbing the other before putting the store bought garlic bread in the oven— you both had figured that if the lasagna did end up turning out bad, there would at least be bread that neither of you had a hand in making to somewhat save the day. 

“I fully believe that this will be the year that they finally get together,” Lucas said, sounding very certain.

Robin shook her head at that. “No way. If they were gonna date, it would’ve happened already. Years ago, probably.”

She thought back to this past Halloween where you and Steve were dressed up in your Batman and Robin costume, and at some point during the night he ended up giving you a piggyback ride while you all were walking to some party, and she and Vickie were trailing a bit behind the two of you. She thought about how certain she had felt when answering Vickie’s question about if you two had ever dated. “They seem like they’d be perfect together, but I also think the world would implode if they ever tried something.” For the most part, that still felt entirely true. Even though it would’ve made complete sense if something happened, it still didn’t seem necessarily “possible” at this point— it felt like such a far-fetched idea.

“I’m gonna have to agree with Rob on this one. I don’t think they’ll ever actually get together,” Eddie said and then started laughing a bit as he said his next words. “Or it’ll happen twenty years down the road after they’ve both been married to other people and then divorced, and then they’ll finally realize that all they needed and wanted was each other.”

“Wow, that sounds like the most depressing movie ever,” Will told him. 

“I guess it wouldn’t be that sad since they would end up together in the end,” El said with a small shrug.

Eddie nodded. “Exactly.”  

“Okay, yeah, maybe that could happen, but I don’t think it would take that long anymore because things are so different now,” Dustin said. “They’re living together, they have a child together.” He gestured to Harold the Hamster’s cage that sat on the coffee table in the living room. “They’re practically already a couple. It’s inevitable now. Soon they’ll be married and there will be actual children involved, not just Harold.”

Robin rolled her eyes at his final statement. “They’re best friends. They’ve known each for like ten years.” 

“Yeah, which is just another reason why they’re definitely gonna end up together,” Lucas said. “Also, I can’t even remember the last time either of them went on a date, and Steve usually always talks about his dates.” 

“Actually, he was just going out with that girl last month,” Will chimed in. “Vanessa or something?”  

“And that ultimately led nowhere,” Max reminded him. 

Mike took a brief look over at you and Steve to make sure that you two still weren’t listening to the current conversation. “Okay, I have an idea. We should make this a bet. We each say when we think they’ll get together, and if it does end up happening we all give whoever got it right or was the closest five bucks.”

Eddie laughed before nodding. “I actually kind of like that idea.” 

“It’s a great idea,” Dustin said with a nod, and it didn’t necessarily surprise anyone when he pulled out a small notebook and pen out of his pocket because it somehow made sense that he would be the one to bring a notebook and pen to a dinner party; he was probably prepared for anything. 

He started off by saying February– because even though it was only a month away, it was in fact, the month of love— and then everyone started going around the table saying their guesses. Lucas said April, Max and El both said March, Mike said July, Will said August, Robin said a very certain “Never,” and Eddie finished by saying a playful and only slightly serious, “Twenty years.”

It was almost comical how oblivious you and Steve were to what was happening not that far away from you both. Instead, your attention was on grabbing enough silverware for everyone since the plates were already set on the table and Steve was pulling out some cups. 

“I think both of our moms would scold us for not setting everything out before they came,” You told Steve, laughing a bit.

“Very true. I guess our years of being forced to eat at fancy restaurants with them have truly taught us nothing,” He joked back and you smiled at that as you both walked over to the dining table. “We’re gonna bring over the lasagna in a second. What are you guys talking about?” 

“Nothing,” Eddie said casually as Dustin slipped his notebook back into his pocket, which was a subtle action that neither of you noticed. “Just some movie.”

Once everything was set on the table, you two went back to the kitchen to grab the lasagnas.

“The bread will be done in a couple minutes, so if the lasagna sucks we’ll eat that,” You said as you sat down in one of the two empty chairs left, which just so happened to be your desk chair. “Also, if it sucks, blame Steve, not me.”

He shook his head as he rolled his eyes at you and playfully poked your side before taking a seat in the other empty chair on the opposite side of the table. “If it sucks, blame both of us because this was a very mutual effort.”

Robin nodded. “Okay, got it. If this turns out to be the worst meal all of us have ever eaten we’ll make sure to hate both of you equally and not talk to either of you for at least a week.”

Luckily, the lasagna actually turned out pretty great.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[fortheloveofexy]

Right now, Andrew and Neil are waving goodbye to the last few stragglers (Renee and Allison) as they head out the door with an armload of opened presents and leftover Christmas dinner. The others have all left already, all equally loaded down with gifts and Tupperware of food. Neil lets Allison hug him goodbye one last time before he closes the door. He turns to Andrew with a tired smile, still a little tipsy from spiked eggnog and the last dregs holiday spirit.

Andrew quirks an eyebrow at him and nods at the tree. Nestled in the back corner are two little boxes still wrapped in red and gold. They'd decided to wait to exchange gifts with each other until after the others went home, wanting to have this moment to themselves.

Andrew extracts their presents while Neil tucks himself onto the couch. The living room is mostly tidy, the carnage of ribbon and wrapping paper already gathered into neatly tied garbage bags. All that remains are a few wads of tissue paper left out for King and Sir to play with.

"You first," Andrew says, thrusting a box into Neil's hand. Neil accepts the gift with a grin that turns into a yawn. Andrew's wrapping is surprisingly neat, with crisp even edges and a minimal amount of tape.

Neil tears open the paper carefully, revealing the navy blue jewelry box inside. It's a necklace; a silver pendant shaped like a key. There's no inscription, but there doesn't need to be; Neil already knows what it means.

Home.

"Thank you," he tells Andrew, and he knows he's being gooey when he says it, because Andrew gets that look where he's feeling something too big to name and defaults to annoyance instead. "Your turn," Neil adds, because he's capable of mercy when he wants to be.

Wordlessly, Andrew opens his gift. His box is a little bigger than Neil's was, wrapped in soft red suede. Inside is a brand new Swiss Army knife - smaller than the blades Andrew used to carry, but no less useful.

Engraved upon the handle is a single word: Always.

"I know you said you didn't need your old knives anymore," Neil explains quickly, "But this one isn't just for protection. It's got everything; a bottle opener, a file, a flashlight - anything you might need. You'll never be without again."

Andrew considers the knife, his thumb rubbing idly against the engraving. His knee is warm where it's pressed against Neil's thigh, his expression thoughtful and relaxed. Finally, he sets the knife aside, resting it gently on the coffee table.

Neil opens his mouth to ask a question, but he's interrupted by Andrew cupping his cheek with a calloused hand. "You and your 'always'," Andrew murmurs, his eyes on Neil's mouth, "Yes or no?"

Neil smiles before leaning in. "Yes," he replies, and meets Andrew's lips with his own.

[suashii]

HO HO HO !

info ⭑ kuroo x fem!reader ﾉ 0.7k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ reader wears a dress and heels, referred to as wife

requested by @tetzoro for my winter wonderland event!

it’s that time of year when kuroo’s company holiday parties are starting to roll around. he isn’t the type to turn down an invitation but he also isn’t the type to go anywhere without you, which explains how you’ve found yourself in your current predicament.

a frown tugs at your lips as you hold a gold earning in one hand and a silver in the other, raising and lowering both of them to get an idea of which would look better with your dress. the fabric wrapped around you is a deeper red color, burgundy if you had to name it. each time you compare the two pieces of jewelry with the garment, the scale begins to weigh in favor of one over the other.

you can practically hear kuroo telling you, “go for gold,” as you put the earrings in with a small smile. 

after a few finishing touches—smoothing down flyaways, spritzing some perfume, fixing your lipstick—you grab your bag and shoes and make your way down to the living room where kuroo is waiting for you.

the christmas music playing over the record grows louder as you descend the stairs and the closer you get to the bottom, the more distinct kuroo’s humming becomes. he isn’t in the living room where you expect to find him, but in the kitchen surveying the cookies for the party that you had told him not to touch. the floor creaks with your approach and his head shoots up like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

though, the look of guilt that paints his face is only temporary. widened eyes are quickly traded for wandering ones, dark amber irises raking over your figure before settling on your own questioning gaze.

“ho ho holy shit you look good,” kuroo announces, leaning against the kitchen island with a grin.

you groan at his lame joke, earning a deep chuckle from kuroo. you should be used to it by now—his corny jokes and cheesy pickup lines. maybe part of you has grown accustomed to it all, but you can’t help but offer up the same unimpressed reaction every time. 

you join him at the counter, setting your bag on the surface and situating yourself on one of the stools.

“no good?” he asks, taking your heels from your hand and kneeling down to put them on for you.

you hum in contemplation, poking his chest with your toe. “i guess i’d rather have you use your bad lines here than in public.”

“oh come on,” he looks up at you while clasping the strap of your shoe around your ankle, “it wasn’t that bad.”

you giggle at his defensiveness, holding his cheeks in your hands when he rests his chin on your knees. he softens like butter under your touch and you get the feeling your hands on his face is apology enough for your jab. still, you squish his cheeks and tell him, “thank you for the compliment, tetsu.”

kuroo grins before turning to kiss the inside of your wrist. you pat his cheeks and jerk your head in the direction of the cookies you had decorated before getting ready. “help me pack these up?”

“of course.” he gives you a hand to help you down from the stool and lets you start while he washes his hands. 

with festive music filling the air, the two of you store the cookies in tupperware, stacking each bin on top of each other when they’re filled. you’re packing up the last tub now but when you reach for the final cookie, it’s missing from its place on the parchment paper.

you turn to investigate where the treat disappeared to and find it in kuroo’s hand on the way to his mouth.

“hey!” you point a scolding finger at him. “these are supposed to be for the party.”

“what, my wife being the baker doesn’t give me first dibs?” he questions, a confused crease between his eyebrows.

you’re tempted to tell him that his status as your husband doesn’t earn him special privileges but the genuine bewilderment he wears weakens your resolve. it’s a combination of funny and sweet that you can’t bring yourself to say no to.

“fine, it’s yours.” you close up the last tub, short by one cookie than you’d originally planned. “you better be glad i love you.”

he steps behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and leaning down to plant a kiss on your temple. “i thank my lucky stars every day.”

[intothedysphoria]

Max didn’t actually seem to dislike her brother that much.

From what Steve had seen the first week they’d moved, all the arguing and long frosty silences and all out fights, Billy would still sneak a note into her pocket every day of school. He’d argue with her classmates, teachers, even the cops if they ever gave her shit.

Billy had dropped her off at the Christmas dance, ruffling her hair a little before noticing Steve. All Steve really got was a grunt of acknowledgment. Which he supposed was better than a punch in the face.

Whenever Mike would make comments about Billy being insane or evil, Max would practically push him off his chair. Steve, not fancying a thirteen year olds left hook decided to put the subject of Billy off the table.

There was only a small amount of facts about Billy Hargrove that Steve knew to be accurate. He was about half a year younger than Steve, the only person he’d really bonded with was Eddie Munson and his dad was a real piece of work. As bad as Lonnie Byers, from what Steve had heard from Max.

Steves parents were Italian-Glaswegian and despite the fact that he bitched about them constantly, Steve loved his parents to bits. His nonna, his granny, his seven billion cousins, all of them were the friendliest people on earth.

The only person James had really disliked had been Lonnie. Until Neil. When his dad had a bad feeling about someone, he was always right.

Steve had been given a mission to befriend Billy. “That wee bairn isn’t being treated right”, that’s what his dad had said. So Steve, laden with spaghetti bolognaise and tablet, knocked on The Hargrove’s door when he knew Neil wasn’t home.

Billy answered, obviously post workout and stared wide eyed at the food. Looking closer at his tank top, Steve could see a pin of the Irish flag settled above his chest.

Steve, not known for his eloquence, mumbled that the food was for Billy and fled for the car. Anything to get out of an awkward conversation.

There were two washed Tupperware containers tucked under Steve’s gym locker the following Monday, accompanied by a note with surprisingly neat handwriting.

“My thanks to the Harringtons. Max loved the tablet.

Uilliam Hargrove”

Steve made a mental note of the way Billy spelled his first name. He had cousins in County Cork and had met a fair few Uilliam’s in his time. Evidently, Neil was the culprit for the anglicised spelling.

Steve’s granny was ecstatic that her cooking had been appreciated and invited him over for dinner pretty much immediately. Steve found himself delivering that message too. This time however, he didn’t run for the car.

Billy studied him, considering, then said he’d be delighted to join. His voice was both surprisingly polite and formed vowels in a manner that was unmistakably West Belfast.

He was charming. Utterly charming. Not the put on way Steve had seen him talk to Karen Wheeler (good god that woman was creepy) but in a way that seemed to just come naturally. Steves house was a blending of Scottish and Italian and Jewish and Irish and Polish and Billy genuinely seemed to love it all.

James sat them together at the table. Probably in an attempt to play Cupid, the meddling old man. Billy used it as an excuse seemingly to scandalise Steve. He was no prude but the way Billy slipped in innuendo after innuendo had Steves face burning.

Dinner turned into staying the night. Steve on an air mattress and Billy on Steve’s bed. Neil wouldn’t notice if he wasn’t there. He probably wouldn’t even notice if Billy disappeared forever.

Steve had never felt himself feeling such a burning sadness for someone and reached out so that they were clutching hands. Billy didn’t shove him away or call him a homo. Instead he clutched Steve’s hand even tighter.

The closer Billy and Steve got and the more Billy slept the night at the Harringtons, the more Billy’s relationship with Neil deteriorated. It got to the point where Billy was showing up with cracked ribs and broken toes, sometimes with Max hovering nervously behind him. Hell, they’d officially started dating with blood spurting out of Billy’s nose.

Until one day when Billy showed up looking the worst Steve had ever seen him. Max was having to support him in standing upright. He was clutching a note in his fist.

“Keep him.”

Out of everyone Steve had expected to go and give Neil a piece of their mind, it hadn’t been his granny. So while Steve was holding Billy’s hand, kissing him and being a bit useless, Maureen had apparently punched Neil Hargrove in the nose.

Funnily enough, Neil never really returned after that. He was somewhere in Alabama. Or Florida. Steve hadn’t bothered to learn where. All he knew was that Billy was a lot happier without him.

They could finally kiss in public. Go on sort of dates. Book nights of passion in sketchy motels.

Know that Max was ok and safe.

And never have his parents involved in his love life again.

For @shieldofiron and @dragonflylady77

Scottish Steve inspired by @ratbastardbilly

[rogueddie]

Wayne grins when he opens the door Steve. He opens the door wide, waving him inside.

"Oh, no, I just came to drop off-" Steve tries.

"Nonsense, come on, come in!"

Steve reluctantly steps inside, holding the little tupperware box awkwardly. Wayne leads him further inside, with a hand on his back. He leads him to the kitchen, where Eddie is sat at the table, looking bored- but he perks up when Steve is led in.

"Steve! You spending eve with us?"

"Oh, uh-" Steve stutters, pausing when Wayne gently pulls the tupperware out his hands. He gives Steve a wink. "Yeah, I guess. I mean... if that's alright with you?"

"Of course it is! More the merrier, right Wayne?"

"Exactly. Come on, sit down," Wayne puts two plates down, one in front of Eddie and one in front of Steve. "You've got some good timing, son."

Wayne is soon back a third plate for himself.

Steve looks between him and Eddie. "Wha- you planned this. How the hell did you plan this?"

"Don't look at me," Eddie throws his hands up. "I thought he was just making enough for leftovers."

"Well... I'm sorry to say, son, you're predictable." Wayne pats his shoulder as he says it, trying to ease any sting. "Plus, I know you'd refuse any invitations to Christmas dinner so... we make do."

Steve looks to Eddie, who shrugs. "Uh... well, um, thanks?"

"Don't worry about it. Eat your food."

Dinner isn't quiet, but it's not as lively as he'd expect. Eddie is almost subdued, matching Waynes softer vibe. For most of it, Steve feels like an observer. It's oddly comforting.

"Help me with the dishes, will ya?" Wayne asks Steve. "Eddie still needs to clean the living room."

Eddie complains, but goes without any real trouble. He tries to use Steve as an excuse to delay, but Steve is eager to help out in any way that he can.

They're both quiet, for a moment. Wayne washes the dishes, Steve drying them.

"Have you asked him yet?" Wayne eventually asks in a hushed voice.

"What?"

"Eds. You asked him yet?"

"Asked him what?"

"Asked him out."

"Oh- that- no- I don't- uh- I mean- he's..." Steve stutters, flushing when Wayne raises a brow at him. "It's not like that."

"Look, I'm trying to be patient with you boys, but eventually you'll need to pull your heads out the sand. Soon. If I have to drag you both out by your ears, I will."

"But, I mean... if it goes wrong..."

"Then it goes wrong. At least you gave it a go."

Wayne hands him the next plate to dry. And, for the rest of the time they spend there, it's silent. Wayne can see the gears turning in Steves head, can see him slowly coming to a resolution.

"Thanks for dinner," Steve says. He sounds confident.

It makes Wayne smile. He pats him on the back, nudging him towards the living room. "You're welcome any time."

[teagballs]

hi, lovely! i saw you’re taking requests and would love to request a nandor x reader from wwdits! 💞 maybe the house gets a new neighbor and she goes over there one night for cookies to introduce herself and it’s like a love at first sight for him? i would love to see what you come up with! :)

love at first sight - nandor the relentless

authors note: HIIII loved this request so much oh my god it was so fun to write tysm. i love nandor sm. KEEP SENDING REQUESTS!! im free to write more over the christmas break. i hope u guys have an amazing christmas, love yall.

cw: none! sweetsweet fluff. gender neutral reader. -------------------------------------------------------

You had recently moved into your new home. A comfortable house in a quiet area of Staten Island. It was a lovely place to live. Not too lonely yet not too popular - just how you liked it. After a couple days of moving your belongings into your new home and shuffling them around, you decided it would be best to introduce yourself to the neighbours. Everyone seemed friendly, some smiled on the street as they watched you gracelessly drag your new furniture into the house. You wanted to be involved in the community, make a friend of your acquaintances. So far, you have been successful. Your method? Bringing freshly baked goods to your neighbours. The way into peoples hearts was their stomachs.

After next introducing yourself to the neighbours opposite you - inhabited by a quirky couple named Sean and Charmaine - you were encouraged to talk to the residence on their right.

"Yeah, they're a strange bunch, but some of my best pals! European or somethin'." Sean explained.

According to the pair, there was a group of 5 neighbouring them. They spoke highly of them.

Charmaine cut in, "Oh, but y'know what? I never see them out during the day. They must all work bad hours, I think. You'd be better going in the evening time." Strange, you thought, but only for a moment. This actually worked out better. It gave you more time to prepare some confectionery.

By the time you approached the house, the sky had already faded to an amber and rose colour. The house had an overbearing presence. It was like something out of a book. On the walk to the door, you were greeted with bushes; trimmed and perfected into intricate shapes. Some of animals, some of what looked to be... genitalia? Huh. European. You note the cobble stairs leading up the entry, supported by two pillars. A deep tangerine colour shot from the stained glass windows onto the grass, it didnt seem like it was providing much light in the house as it dimmed and died on the lawn. The whole building seemed to be almost secretive. It was dark, like it was trying to hide away. You took a deep breath, holding your tupperware of cookies close to your chest. You rapped on the door.

After striking the surface of the door, you were met with silence. Then what sounded like a groan? Then a word. Maybe someone's name? You awkwardly shuffle in place as you wait. Finally, you could make out a shape approaching the door. You straightened your posture. The door creaks open, quietly.

"Hi, um, who are you?" The stranger asks in the politest way possible. From what you can make out from the dim lights of the house, he appears to be a shorter, stout man. He's wearing circular glasses and a sweater that reminds you of something your grandfather would wear. It's an overall comforting appearance. Judging the exterior of the house, you were worried someone evil and dark lived there. But that was not the case, it seemed.

You give the man your name, "I just moved in a couple days ago, I'm trying to get to know all the neighbours, I brought these," You awkwardly gesture to the tub of cookies in your hands. The man smiles at you kindly.

"How sweet, I'm Guillermo." He tells you. But before the pleasantries can continue, you are interrupted. The sound of heavy, heavy boots fills your ears. Striding down the hallway.

"Guillermo! Who is it that is at the door! They have awoken me from my slumber far too early!" A gorgeous man with long dark hair stands behind Guillermo now. He looks sleepy, his hair disgruntled. He's wearing some strange attire, nothing like you had ever seen before.

Guillermo gestures towards you, "Our new neighbour came over to introduce themself."

Nandor snaps, "A new neighbour!? Who gives a fuck about..." Oh? Oh.

It was only now that Nandor took notice of who was standing at the door. And how beautiful they were. He tugs on his clothing, trying to make him look presentable.

He clears his throat, "And your name is?" He asks. You note his accent, which makes every word spoken from his mouth seem more lavish and captivates you further. You meet his gaze and tell him your name. You have to pull away, however, fearing that you could get lost in his umber orbs forever and ever. He's fidgeting his hands, you notice. It's adorable. His fingers are looped with an assortment of rings.

"A beautiful name," he remarks, almost to himself. Flustered, it was your turn to fidget now, as you massaged the fabric of your jeans. Guillermo rolls his eyes. He knows.

"I'm Nandor the Relentless," The long haired man tells you. Strange title, but you are too wound up to notice. He could say the most absurd thing, and you will still be enamoured, it seemed.

"I, um, brought cookies!" You exclaimed, snapping out of your trance but a little too excited over some baked goods. Nandor the Relentless matches this excitement, however.

"How wonderful. I will enjoy these later, I imagine they are delicious!" He muses.

Gulliermo mutters to Nandor, "Nandor, you can't even eat human food." And Nandor quickly snaps back, "Shut up," all out of earshot to you, however.

You're dazed. So is Nandor. Even with his 36 wives, he had never felt such a connection. With this, you both found it hard to reach your next sentence. You stammered out, "Sorry if I uh, woke you up, your neighbour said you worked a late shift? So I thought coming in the evening would be better." You smiled.

"Late shift? No, I was slumbering-!" Gulliermo lightly shoves Nandor, to shut him up.

"That's right! Nandor was sleeping, just about to wake up for work." He smiled, covering for him.

Nandor catches on, "Oh! Yes! I have just awoken to start work at my normal human job. At the railroad."

You giggle at his manner of speaking. A railroad worker works late shifts? You had never figured.

"Oh! Cool! Well, yeah, I just wanted to introduce myself to all the neighbours and bring a little gift." You gesture to the cookies again, Nandor takes them finally. Maybe he was a little reluctant to take them from your hands as he worried you would disappear after. Your fingers lightly grazed his, a touch that lasted a little longer than average for such an exchange, but you still wish it continued.

Although you didn't want to leave and it felt like you were being pulled to stay, you decided it would be best not to intrude any longer. Especially if Nandor had to start work soon. "Yeah! So um, I hope to see you 'round. Have a good evening." You flashed another big smile and thumbs up.

"Yes! I do hope to see you around!" Nandor held an even bigger smile at you. It made your heart warm.

You turned on your heel and walked back to your house. It was only then when you were filled with dread. 'Why the fuck did I give him the thumbs up!?" You externally cursed. You were going to overthink this whole exchange all night. God you hoped to see Nandor again. In your heart you knew you would.

[villainofmyownstory]

Blurry

Part 2

masterlist

part 1 | 1.2 | part 3

pairing: exhusband!Captain John Price x fem!Reader

summary: You visit your ex-husband, in your once shared home. The memories are painful. But only for you. Unfortunately, after that one bloody mission, John doesn't remember you. The memory of your life together, blurred in his mind.

tags: afab reader, hurt, ex lovers, ex-husband, recollection of death, loss of memory, ambiguous/open ending

2.5k words

author's note: @blackhawkfanatic @who-needs-to-sleep @rafaelacallinybbay because you asked about part 2 <3

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist - let me know.

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Something inside you has broken.

It seems that for a long time, you were pieces that were temporarily glued together.

In the end, pretending was a good thing.

After all, the one who laughs the loudest internally cries the hardest. 

Since those three days, weeks have passed. And somehow you couldn't move on. Maybe you should ask about that ring on his finger that unexpectedly appeared. Or maybe you should forget, finally move on, start living your life as before and never look back.

And of course, the phone rang every day. The boys, as usual, cared about you, not just him. After all, the captain's orders were to take care of you, too.

Even if he said those words so long ago. Before.

Do you think these waters will ever be shallower? That the current of the river, will carry you away and let you swim inertly to another shore? Or will you drown in the mud and your body sink inertly to the bottom. Forgotten. Left until your flesh rots, disintegrates eaten by river creatures.

His warm hands gently hold your waist. Keeping you from falling off the chair. Even though this is November outside it's already exceptionally cold. It even snowed lightly today. However, there was no longer any sign of it now.

You try to concentrate on decorating the tree, but the presence of a man in your flat is slightly overwhelming.

You let him. You accepted it all. Feeling inside, somewhere deep under your ribs, that this is madness. But despite everything, this discomfort, the smile doesn't leave your face.

You look down at him, his hands still holding your hips. Maybe you can stay like this for a while longer. You feel safe. Wanted. Needed. Belonged to someone.

”I'll turn on the lights”

he says finally helping you off the chair. You take a few steps away to get a better view.

Your first Christmas together. Never mind that it's just the two of you. And you don't mind that it's November.

What matters is that someone finally put your broken pieces together.

He was just yours.

In a few days he had to go on a mission. For unknown amount of time.

So this year Christmas came sooner. And you glance at him as he looks at the decorated Christmas tree with pride written on his face. To turn his gaze to you with the same delight.

”Somethin' wrong?”

You don't answer, blushing slightly. No one has ever looked at you like that.

”Nothing”

you mumble embarrassed

”You look nice in that Christmas sweater” you reply and reluctantly glance back at tree.

”Do you like snowmen, dove?”

The phone rings. It rings nonstop. A familiar picture appears on the screen.

That's right, today is Wednesday.

You allow yourself not to answer.

Several times.

Finally, you slide your finger across the screen.

"Everythin’ okay?"

Kyle, as usual without greeting, gets straight to the point

"I've been waiting for an hour and you're not here. Do you want me to come get you?"

Silence.

"Or maybe I should call Simon?"

That will do.

"I'll be there in half an hour."

You sigh, slowly letting the air out, as if you've been holding it in your lungs for the last few minutes. You quickly take the keys and leave the cold apartment.

You let him hold your hand. Maybe it's weakness. Maybe longing. Or maybe selfishness.

When the therapy is over and you're sitting in his car, you see a Tupperware container in the back seat. You know very well what it means.

"Jessica thought you'd be hungry. You know how she is.  She always cooks too much, and Captain won't eat it all himself” Kyle hands you a heavy container and a spoon

"How long?"

You don't dare raise your eyes, heavy eyelids close for a moment. The world starts spinning again. You don't want to hear that she is there again. Why is she there. After all, it was your home too. Never hers.

But of whom you want to make a fool, you know very well the reason.

"Two weeks." Kyle looks through the windshield, nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel

"Friday will be three years from-"

"Don't."

You speak quickly and dryly. You don't want to hear it. You know perfectly well that Friday is the anniversary of the accident.

You should be the one standing in the kitchen. It should be you. There.

"Should I drive you back to your apartment? One of the guys will drive the car back later."

You don't answer, your eyelids are heavy. It's as if they've stuck together and don't want to give you even a hint of light. Any comfort of a still bright day.

Drowning. To sink into the darkness. In an abyss of pain. Rot and suffer. This is your destiny. Forgotten.

"Hey, do you want to talk? Maybe someone should stay with you for the next few days?"

Kyle looks at you, sees your gray, tired face. The dark circles under your eyes. Hair that hasn't been cared for by a stylist in years. Fallen cheeks and chapped lips. Someone else is sitting in that car. It's not you anymore.

When you finally get back to your place, you toss the food container into the trash can and, still in your coat and shoes, lie down on the couch, in the living room. You stare dully at the blank wall, hoping that maybe sleep will come now.

It was better with you before, you were already walking on that straight path. Without stumbling, colors appeared on the sides. The sun was rising more and more for you. But again, a shadow that hid somewhere behind you covered your silhouette. Leaning heavily on your shoulders.

Late in the afternoon, when night slowly replaced day, and red and pink colours dance on the walls in the room, you finally fall asleep.

And again, a nightmare comes. You wish you could wake up and stay awake, stare at the ceiling and not have to relive it all over again. Maybe insomnia was some kind of cure for you. An escape.

And here you are in this place. Another broken promise. Once again you are doing something against yourself. You're sitting in the guest room on fresh evenly laid sheets.

In his home.

But when the phone rang in the middle of the night and on the other end you heard from, none other than Ghost (not to be confused with Simon, at that moment he is speaking to you as a soldier, the Captain). So it wasn't even a request. Just a command. Since John's memory had improved considerably since your last visit, along with the doctors, Ghost decided that you would stay with him this time for longer. Due to the fact that Johnny was injured and needed time to rest. Ghost and Gaz went on missions together. This time, to your misfortune, for a few weeks. And Jessica with kids couldn't stay for longer. Everyone had their own responsibilities. So you were chosen. The last option.

When you arrived, John wasn't there yet, he was going to rehab on Thursdays. So you got a few more hours of freedom before he returned. However, something paralyzed you to leave the room. The suitcase stood next to the bed, still unpacked.

The smell in the house, despite such a long time and so many different people who came in every now and then, remained the same. Cigars and burning wood from the fireplace.

Overwhelming. Now suffocating.

And those damn beige walls. Boring, nauseating. But eventually, it had to be repainted, three years ago these four walls witnessed your darkest moments in life.

Maybe it's better to sleep downstairs in the living room.

When John returns and enters the house, everything happens as if you were a different person - a spectator sitting in the front row, watching with bated breath the scene being played out. A scene from the movie called your life.

John puts his keys down on the dresser in the hallway, walks into the living room looks at the already made-up couch and turns in your direction with surprise. And you stand still with a wooden spoon in your hand, not even blinking.

"Oh there you are darling. Are we supposed to have guests tonight?"

You answer absolutely nothing, still standing motionless at the kitchen island, dismayed to see him slowly walk towards you.

And as if nothing ever happened, he grabs you lightly, squeezing your hip, and leans down to kiss your forehead. The kiss seems to last an eternity. It's almost like he's been kissed you for the first time.

He always did that when he came back to you.

But that was then. It was never - after.

"Somethin' wrong?"

He moves away from you and smiles gently, tilting his head, waiting for an answer.

You finally gain some strength in yourself and despite the unreality of the whole situation, which seems as if your brain is playing with you and replaying a scene from the past.

You finally nod slowly, in denial.

"I'll change and help you, I'm exhausted after today's new exercises. But I'm pretty flexible considering my age."

Saying this he smiles wider.

"And how was your day, at work?"

The wooden spoon fell to the countertop with a bang. Echoing in the room.

Mumbling apologetic words, you quickly evade him. You say something about a forgotten business, about making an urgent phone call.

You don't know who to call. Your hands are shaking and wet with sweat. ''It didn't happen.'' you mumble to yourself. Someone who was in charge of your life was a fucking prankster . Every time it seemed like nothing was going to happen, a new unknown and unannounced thing popped up from around the corner. A bloody joke.

Finally deciding to call Johnny, even though he was recently injured and supposed to be resting, you had to hear someone's familiar voice. Something that confirms that you have your feet on the ground. Something that makes you reassure yourself that you're not crazy.

After two signals he picks up and when he hears your frightened voice when you tell him about the situation from a moment ago.  Johnny will be here in two hours.

It's nothing that the wound on his thigh hasn't healed yet. Because if his Captain has finally regained his memory. He would, even if he had to walk 1,000 miles barefoot. He would do it without hesitation.

Just to have him back.

So you had to face John somehow, waiting for those two hours. And that seemed to be no easy thing to do. Because you no longer knew what awaited you on the other side of the beige bedroom. Who was the man who just a few weeks ago, every time he saw you, didn't recognize you and asked the same questions.

Was this the old, kindest John, the one you fell in love with many years ago.Was it even still possible, or was what you heard a few minutes ago some kind of error in his hollow, broken memory.

And again, the same scenery. How many times will it all be the same almost so familiar, and in truth so distant and foreign.

John's already dressed in more comfortable clothes, a plain plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and comfortable old, slightly rubbed jeans.

You stand in the threshold of the kitchen nervously clutching the phone, holding it as if it were some sort of lifeline, a connection to something that will save you. Well, from what, exactly? From a man who acts as if the last years, that tragedy never happened, and your marriage continued uninterrupted. Happily.

"Why don't we eat on the terrace? It's a really nice afternoon today."

John is standing at the countertop, his back turned to you cheerfully humming tunes known only to himself.

And you, you stand praying that by some miracle Johnny will get here sooner.

Despite your fatigue after a day's work, you cheerfully bustle around the kitchen, preparing a late supper. John was supposed to come back today, even though it had only been a week. The longing for him was great. Especially since just 3 weeks ago you had written in the documents, different name. Now, you proudly looked at your finger many times a day, seeing no longer an engagement ring. But something much more important.

A gold wedding ring.

Mrs. Price.

Not only was his return a cause for celebration, there was something else.

Once dinner is ready, the table is a bit over-decorated. The room, and practically the whole house, is illuminated only by the candles that have been set up. You stand nervously in the kitchen in your hands holding a small gift bag.

The dress is rather too elegant, as well. But you want this moment to be special, unique. Unforgettable.

Finally, this long-listened-for sound is interrupted by the only oddity you hear - the beating of your own heart.

John stands in the threshold with astonishment

"Honey? What's-?"

Slowly you hear his heavy footsteps, and after a moment you see him. A tired face, this time with longer facial stubble than usual. He is still dressed in a dirty tactical uniform. You don't even want to know what he witnessed in his absence.

He walks up to you and, as usual, one hand rests on your hip gently squeezing it and a warm kiss lands on your forehead.

"Some celebration? don't tell me I forgot about some important anniversary."

John looks up at you, despite his fatigue, his eyes shining happily illuminated by the candlelight.

"No, you haven't forgotten anything. It's something else."

Speaking, you grab a colorful bag and hand it to him

"A gift? oh, that means it is some positive occasion for me. For us?"

You smile nervously waiting for him to see what's inside.

Definitely a very positive news.

Time passes slowly. It's as if someone has pressed the slow motion button on the remote control to see the details better.

John, still in a good mood, finishes preparing the meal and finally turns in your direction and looks at you

"White or red?"

You bite your lower lip, feeling a coppery aftertaste in your mouth.

"Why are you doing this, John? Why is this happening again?"

Slowly saying these words, you look at his hands, which he wipes inattentively.

"But, what's the matter? I wanted to help you with dinner, dove. And I asked what kind of wine you wanted to drink. That's all."

With each step he takes toward you, you back away until you hit the wall.

"Tomorrow you will forget everything again, I don't have the strength anymore. I shouldn't have agreed to this. Again."

John stands close, much too close.

"How could I forget my biggest sweetheart? My beautiful wife? There's no way I'll ever forget you."

You finally lift your gaze, and look into his eyes. Hoping to see the same spark he once had, long ago.

However, all you see is emptiness. A faded blue.

And the only thought in your mind is for Johnny to hurry up and rescue you from this nightmare.