#we eat lemons with salt and nothing else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

karniss-bg3 · 2 years ago

Text

Midnight Snack

In the late hours of the evening Tav found themselves hungry. Moonrise was uncharacteristically quiet and still, many of its denizens out on patrol or assigned to various parts of the withered city. Tav enjoyed these rare moments of solace and solitude especially considering how often they were under scrutiny by the dark residents. They wandered into the kitchen, an area that was in various states of cleanliness. Pots and pans were scattered about haphazardly and a slightly musty aroma lingered in the air likely from the build-up of dust and rot. Despite this Tav wasn’t willing to sacrifice a proper meal regardless of their surroundings.

They got to work gathering what pans and utensils they could scavenge which still held promise, dumping them into a wash basin to give a good scrub down. While elbow deep in the soapy water their ears pricked when they heard a familiar clicking nearby. However, it wasn’t at ground level. Rather it was along the walls within the room, shifting as it seemed to come closer. Tav knew that sound, growing accustomed to it in their short time in Moonrise. Carefully they let their gaze drift to their peripheral managing to catch a fleeting glance of a certain drider looming nearby, moon lantern suspiciously absent. Kar’niss had likely heard the commotion and opted to come investigate, perched on one of the walls close to the ceiling. Unfortunately, he was too large to walk upside down but he did take advantage of the darker corners to keep himself moderately concealed. Tav pretended not to notice resuming the task at hand but kept an ear out all the same.

Eventually they finished cleaning and wandered over to the wood stove, tossing in a few logs and lighting it with a fire cantrip. A fire roared into life with such fervor that Kar’niss backed away and smushed himself tighter into the corner, quietly hissing to himself. Tav said nothing as they dusted off their hands. They knelt down next to their travelers pack digging through the contents until they found the ingredients they were after. Much of the available food in this area was rotten or less than ideal, long past its expiration date. It made Tav thankful that they had extra supplies from their journey through the mountain pass. They cut up sausages, onions, carrots and a bit of garlic which were dumped into the heated pan on the stove top. The ingredients started to sizzle on contact, a notion that caught the drider’s attention, leaning forward with a hint of curiosity while maintaining a wide gap of distance.

“Hungry?” Tav asked, keeping their gaze on the food.

Kar’niss jerked from some surprise, gazing about with some haste as if confused on who Tav was asking. He realized no one else was in the room bar the pair of them which made him shift with some nerves.

“We do not eat what True Soul eats,” his voice quiet.

Tav used a spatula to stir the contents of the pan to prevent it from burning, the various aromas mingling together drowning out the musty smell of the room. “A shame, this is a good meal. Also, you can call me Tav if you wish. True Soul sounds so...formal.”

Kar’niss’ eyes squinted, crossing his arms over his chest. “No, Majesty bids we address you as She wills it.”

Tav hummed and nodded knowing better than to push the issue further. They went back to cooking, grabbing a bit of lemon to squeeze over the meat for added kick and finally some salt and pepper to taste. “Curiously, what is it you do eat?” Kar’niss took a cautious step closer, more of his twisted form revealed in the dim light. “Blood. We must feed every four days, more often is ideal.”

“Heh, sounds like someone I know,” they mused. “Well are you able to at least have a taste? You still have a mouth, seems silly that you can’t at least sample what I’ve made.”

The drider pressed his lips into a thin line. “We can, but why would we? Pointless.”

Tav dumped the contents of the pan onto a plate, using a fork to scrape it into a manageable pile. They’d then wander over to where Kar’niss was perched, peering up at him in his cozy corner.

“Because I still owe you for saving my skin the other day. I’d be a corpse if you hadn’t acted quickly. This isn’t much of a thank you, granted, but it is a start.” They’d smile and stab the fork into the meat and vegetables. “You’ll have to come down though, I’m unable to reach you from here.”

A deep, vibrating growl rumbled in Kar’niss’ throat although it was not threatening, more like confused annoyance. At first it seemed he had no intention of answering the request, perfectly happy high up on the wall away from the perceived pest. Tav waited patiently able to see the mental journey Kar’niss was going through due to his conflicted expressions.

“Tch, if it pleases the True Soul then it also pleases our Queen,” Kar’niss concluded.

Hesitantly Kar’niss descended, his legs clinging to the stone walls barely managing to keep him aloft. He’d lean down as Tav lifted up their arm, extending the fork toward his mouth once in range. The former drow sniffed at the collection of food skewered through the metal prongs, his head jerking back as if the smell offended him.

“Come now, it’s not as bad as all that. Just one bite and I promise I’ll let you be,” Tav said.

Kar’niss sighed, his reddish eyes darting between the fork and Tav, his arms defiantly crossed over his chest. He leaned closer, his lips trembling as if he worried the food would bite back. With a sharp snap of his head his mouth took in most of the fork, lips forming a seal. He’d then jerk back using his lips to free the food stuffs from captivity, backing up and away from Tav as he did so. With his mouth full at first he looked stumped as if unsure what to do. Who knows how long it had been since he’d consumed solids and his recent inexperience was showing. Tav looked on but allowed Kar’niss to take his time, recalling how temperamental the drider could be.

He’d soon will his jaws into working, fangs gnashing awkwardly at the portion with some struggle. Thankfully it hadn’t been a large serving, soon conquering the morsels and alleviating his mouth with an audible gulp. His expression scrunched and a shiver ran down his spine as if the entire performance was most unholy. “Awful. Tastes like sawdust,” He concluded with a spit. He stuck his tongue out and began furiously wiping his palms over the surface to rid himself of any remaining particles.

Tav blinked at his assessment before a wide smile creased their lips, followed by an amused chuckle.

“I suppose I didn’t know what I expected. Your taste buds were probably permanently altered when you changed considering your new diet. As you said, pointless. I thank you for humoring me all the same, Kar’niss.” Tav scooped up a fork full for themselves, popping it into their mouth with a pleased crunch. They didn’t seem concerned about eating after the drider, something he took notice of.

Tav retreated to a nearby table to sit and finish their meal. Even though their interaction appeared to have concluded, Kar’niss remained. He smacked his lips together, rolling his tongue behind his teeth, trying to collect a hint of the offerings natural taste. Alas it appeared such was not meant to be. He peered at Tav with some confusion. They were easily the most bizarre True Soul he’d ever encountered and he wasn’t sure what to make of them. He rubbed the back of his neck while his eyes blinked intermittently out of sync, watching the strange individual while they ate.

“I do have a question,” Tav began between bites, “before you changed, what did you like to eat?”

The question caught him off guard, his mouth opening as if to speak yet his voice escaped him. It took him time to think it over to recall such a distant memory, scanning the depths of his broken mind. He shrank in place when he dug too deep, memories resurfacing in bits and pieces, many of which made his stomach churn. It took real effort to shove certain thoughts away in order to focus on what he wanted to recall.

“Grilled...rothé. I liked grilled rothé and zurkhwood mushrooms.”

“Ah, underdark cuisine. Makes sense. Well, if I can ever get my hands on either maybe I can make it for you. It might taste like sawdust but it’ll be a nice break from blood, hm?” Tav finished off their plate feeling far more sated.

The drider’s face scrunched up with some anger, crawling down the wall to step on the floor below. “Why does True Soul care? We do not need these things! All that matters is our Majesty’s will, Her desires! We must focus on guiding more faithful to Her path and that should be your only concern.”

Tav looked up from their empty plate as Kar’niss stomped over, his form tall and imposing especially with Tav seated as they were. They’d look up at him able to glean the conflicted wave of emotions etched in his expression.

“Are you not one of her faithful?”

“Tch, we are Her most faithful!”

“Who is to say I was not sent here to reward you for your service?”

Kar’niss felt every muscle in his torso tense in unison as if a minotaur had punched him in the chest. He backed down from the table lifting one hand to grasp at his hair, bewildered by such a bold statement.

“What is the True Soul suggesting?” “I am suggesting that our Queen sent me to look out for you. She led me to the lyre, She led me through the mountain pass, and She led me to you. Is it really such a far fetched notion, after everything you’ve done?”

Tav knew what they said was dishonest and they were playing a dangerous game. But they couldn’t hope to make leeway unless they humored the notion of the Absolute to some degree. Their very presence at Moonrise risked being compromised at any given moment. They had spoken with many in the tower and deemed most of them beyond saving. Most, except for Kar’niss. Tav’s gaze settled firmly on Kar’niss maintaining their composure hoping their deception wouldn’t be perceived.

Perhaps it was because Kar’niss desperately wanted approval from the Absolute, or perhaps his mind was far too fragile and scrambled to notice, but he seemed to believe the statement that was made. His sharp fingertips scratched the front of his throat, his bulbous backside wiggling with a clumsy wag.

“Sh-She has...rewarded us,” He whispered under his breath. The hint of moisture collected in the corners of his primary pair of eyes, a shaken breath pulled deep into his lungs. “Majesty, have you really heard us? We are worthy of your mercy?”

Tav looked on while Kar’niss processed everything. It broke their heart to see the drider like this, lost to the cult mentality and the desperate search for acceptance. They knew they had a long road ahead but if they could disconnect Kar’niss from the rest of Her followers, perhaps healing could begin. They rose from the chair, collecting their empty plate to dump in the nearby wash bin. They’d approach Kar’niss whose gaze seemed transfixed on the ceiling, delivering silent, tear-filled prayers to his savior.

“You are worthy of more than just mercy, Kar’niss. Majesty has seen the sacrifices you’ve made, as well as the suffering that came with it. She might not always speak to us but she shows her approval in other ways.” Tav paused and bit their lower lip as a thought came to them. “Our Queen has just spoken to me. Tomorrow evening meet me here after the patrols have left.”

Kar’niss swallowed heavily, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “She speaks?! What did She say, True Soul?”

“I can’t tell you, not yet. Tomorrow all will be revealed. Trust in our Queen and all will be well, alright?”

“Y-Yes...yes, She knows what is best, she will protect us with her endless wisdom. We will return here tomorrow.”

Kar’niss wouldn’t spare a moment more loitering in the kitchen. He had to retrieve his moon lantern from Balthazar, he needed to be prepared for what was on the horizon. He climbed back up the wall and headed for a hole in the ceiling, barely managing to squeeze his large body through, entering the second floor. Tav stood there and watched him retreat, exhaling a heavy breath of relief. That was close, too close. They had plans of their own now and the clock was ticking. They’d grab their pack and hoist it over their shoulder, the cogs in their mind working overtime.

“I really hope this works, for his sake and mine.”

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #drider #bg3 #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #karniss x tav #sfw #karniss fanfic #bg3 fanfic #my writing #kar'niss fanfic #kar'niss x tav

167 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years ago

Note

I’M HERE FOR THE TEA please can we see Mama Rosehearts seeing Trey again?? You know the boy she probably blames for leading her son astray with SUGAR 😆 maybe throw in the Clover siblings or Clover parents too? Only if you want to though!

Scalding hot tea to go with those banned strawberry tarts... 👀 (Not gonna lie though, it's so funny to me that Mrs. Rosehearts may see Trey, one of THE most normal and mild-mannered dudes in the main TWST cast, as some kind of twisted degenerate that peddles an addictive white powder to her child 🤡)

While writing this, I kept thinking of the passive aggressive dinner scene in Shrek 2 (that eventually turned into a full-blown food fight) 😅 Trey can be Shrek since he's green and Mrs. Rosehearts can be Fiona's dad since they're both protective parents-- (I decided to keep it to Trey, Riddle, and Mrs. Rosehearts! The rest of the Clover family would be a lot of people to account for in one interactions.)

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

Trey was used to cutting cakes, not cutting tension. The vice dorm leader job description had said nothing about the latter—yet here he was, newly saddled with the responsibility.

To his right was Riddle, forcing himself to maintain impeccable posture for afternoon tea. Back straight, head up, eyes forward, as he wove a teaspoon through a cup of warm liquid. Normally, he would slightly sweeten his tea with honey—but he went without it today, only stirring on reflex.

A ha-RUMPH! sounded as Riddle set the teaspoon down on his saucer. Their guest was disapproving, as Trey had expected. He gathered his strength and muttered a silent prayer to the Great Seven.

"Tea?" Trey offered the woman to his right, teapot at the ready.

Mrs. Rosehearts tapped a dagger-like nail against her arm. She had painted them a deep crimson, the exact shade of the red velvet cakes Patisserie Clover whipped up—though with the scathing expression she wore, Trey figured the last thing she wanted to hear about was baked goods. The woman looked like she was out for his blood, rich and oh-so-red.

"Okaaay, no tea then." Trey carefully returned the teapot to its spot and reached for a plate of the least sweet item avaliable. "How about a finger sandwich? We've got all different kinds of fillings, so just pick the one you like."

Mrs. Rosehearts didn't so much as pass the poor sandwiches a glance out of pity.

"Alright, I guess that's also a negatory?"

Her icy eyes bore into Trey, silently judging him. The tension thickened, turning heftier than a filling pea soup (though he doubted she was in the mood for any food at this point).

A hand reached over and plucked a sandwich from the top of the pile, staving off some rigidity in the air.

"Thank you, Trey." Riddle offered a small smile.

"You're very welcome. Don't eat it all up in one bite now. Remember to save some for everyone else," Trey joked light-heartedly. "You've got a smoked salmon on whole wheat there. I tossed the fish in lemon juice, salt, and pepper, then mixed it with a little cream cheese, dill, and minced onion."

"Is that right? It sounds delicious and healthy," Riddle said carefully, emphasizing the final word. He delicately nibbled at the crusts--still left on--while eyeing the contents of his teacup.

The table settled back into a stiff silence. Riddle staring at his drink, his mother staring at Trey, and Trey staring at the wall behind her. If he made eye contact, would she explode?

Trey rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. His hand came away damp with perspiration. He dared to say what was on everyone's mind.

"Well, uh... This is awkward."

There was an audibly sharp intake of breath. Riddle, paralyzed. His thumb pressed down hard on his sandwich, puncturing a hole in the bread.

"You're the eldest son of the bakers," Mrs. Rosehearts declared, her first utterance as prickly as thorns. "The boy who led my Riddle astray with sugar."

She makes it sound like I was peddling something way worse than what it actually was! It was only a slice of strawberry tart...

Trey bit back his protests and tried at a smile. He and Riddle had spent hours reviewing and rehearsing their game plan for this dreaded moment. "Don't challenge her, don't instigate," his dorm leader had instructed him. "Be agreeable. Lie if you must. Whatever it takes for us to come out of this encounter unscathed."

His had confidence wavered, worry in his big eyes. A flash of fear, and Trey saw the sad little child from years before, the fat tears that had been dribbling down Riddle’s contorted face. Sobbing, apologizing, pleading.

He had tipped his head and nodded. A mere card soldier obeying his queen. The line he parroted so often was spoken once more: “Yes, dorm leader.”

Trey reached within himself for the best he could manage. "It's nice to see you again, ma'am."

"If only I could say the same!!" Mrs. Rosehearts huffed dismissively. She then snapped, quick as a whip, to Riddle, who flinched. "It’s no wonder why you came home in such a sorry state for the holidays! I suspected it for a while now, but this confirms it. You’ve been reintroduced to bad influences at school."

“That’s not exactly…” Riddle trailed off, his voice weak. His mother continued to rant, undaunted.

“NRC has its fair share of students that cause trouble,” Trey confessed, tactfully cutting in. “Still, that’s to be expected of teenage boys."

“My Riddle rarely ever behaves in such a disrespectful manner,” Mrs. Rosehearts retorted. Rarely stung like a slap to the face. “Were it not for poor choices in friendship, he would never act out.

“Why a prestigious learning institution like Night Raven College would allow such riffraff in, I’ll never understand! They only ruin it for the others. It only takes one bad seed to spoil the whole bunch.”

She didn't name names, but it was clear who she was talking about from where she directed her intense gaze.

“I don’t know about spoiled apples, but bruised ones can still be used,” Trey pointed out, eager to divert the heated topic. “They don’t look the best, but they still taste fine. Bruised apples work for lots of recipes. Salads, sauces, ciders, jams..."

The smoked salmon sandwich slipped, falling into Riddle’s untouched tea. His eyes widened. Then Trey’s slowly followed. Both of them caught the misstep, their times staggered.

The scowl on Mrs. Rosehearts deepened, her crimson lips forming an almost bloody line. “You would just love to stuff my son with more of that sugary poison, wouldn’t you? Just like you’ve filled his head with your poisonous thoughts!!”

“What? No, I wouldn’t… I haven’t—” He instinctively pivoted to providing a defense, something to placate her.

It was an ill-advised mistake.

"Young man!!" Face red, she rose from her seat, slamming both hands on the table. The fine china and silverware clattered violently. "First you feed him that horrible junk food, then you've graduated to feeding him all these untruths!! You've done quite enough damage to my son."

He had one foot in the rabbit hole now, the situation spiraling into chaos. Trey braced himself against the verbal barrage, wincing as her volume climbed higher and higher, her features distorting from rage.

A part of him wanted to cry out. To argue, to shout. But fear clawed at his throat, seizing his tongue.

"Look where hanging around you has gotten him! He comes home over the winter break spouting nonsense—nonsense he no doubt picked up from you. I thought I had done all I could to rid us of the pests buzzing around him, but clearly even those efforts haven't been enough!"

"M-Mother, please... I can explain!" Riddle insisted, jumping up. His teacup wobbled, threatening to topple over and stain the table and rug. "I implore you, don't blame Trey--"

"A mother knows what's best for her child! I'll be speaking to the headmaster about this, and there WILL be some changes around here!"

Riddle recoiled, defeated. He balled his hands into fists on his lap—to stop them from shaking.

It's happening, Trey realized. Again, it's happening...

The edges of his vision blurring, his throat closing up. A distant memory of his parents profusely apologizing to a screaming woman. Riddle huddled behind her, in tears, tugging, begging to be heard. Him, standing frozen, unable to act.

"Riddle..." Trey made to place a hand on his shoulder to reassure him, but a protective arm blocked his path. He met the livid face of Mrs. Rosehearts.

"Don't you touch a hair on my son's head.”

His hand jerked back but refused to fall limp to his side. He frowned slightly, brows furrowing in hesitation.

But he pushed himself forward and tumbled deeper down the rabbit hole.

"With all due respect, ma'am," Trey said very evenly, "I get wanting to support and protect him, I really do. That's part of my job as his vice dorm leader—but Riddle doesn’t need it all the time. He’s not the fragile flower you seem to think he is.”

He was the thorns that warded off enemies. He was the stalk, morally upright and willful. He was the roots that burrowed deep and anchored the group.

He was anything but a rose.

“Frankly, I think you sorely underestimate how strong Riddle really is,” Trey continued. He must be, if he has the courage to speak up for me when I couldn’t do the same for him. “I don’t mean just in magic either. He has the will of a queen too.”

Mrs. Rosehearts drew back, positively appalled. Her nostrils flared. "And just what are you insinuating?!"

Shock replaced the delicate discomfort on Riddle’s face. “Trey, you…”

“Ahahah… Sorry, Riddle.” He passed his friend a faint smile. “I guess I couldn’t help but meddle this time. I broke my promise to you. My bad.”

“No, don’t be.” His response was quiet, like the trace of a whisper on a breeze.

“I understand now. It’s not the school that needs changing, but you,” Mrs. Rosehearts snarled, jabbing an accusatory finger at Trey. “I’ll have you expelled from this school!! You won’t ever be put in a position where you can sink your venomous fangs into my…"

"Stop, mother...!!"

"Riddle?" Mrs. Rosehearts looked expectantly at her son. She had stiffened, the fire in her eyes now petrified to stone.

He hesitated under her gaze.

"... Hey. It's okay. You've got this," came a soft voice from beside him. From Riddle's right, his right-hand man. "No one else can speak for you but yourself."

Riddle swallowed. He tried to maintain his cool, but his words came out shaky.

"Mother, I..." He stopped and started again. "You may see Trey as a villain, someone who leads children astray from the good and morally righteous path with a house of sweets. But that's not what he is.”

Riddle remembered the scene well.

In a garden of rose hedges… Collars turned into fluttering playing cards. Then the pitch black had consumed him. A light he had reached for. The hand that had reached back. Someone calling out to him, panicked.

That person was…

"At my darkest moment, Trey was there to stop me from sinking lower than I already had. When I sought a hand in the void, it was he who reached back for me. His hand is what pulled me up when I was down.

“For that, I will always be grateful, no matter what you may think of him. He is worthy of standing by my side as Heartslabyul’s vice dorm leader. That is my decision—a decision acknowledged by all.”

His mother bristled. "You would side with this… this boy over me? Your mother? Your family?"

“I’m suggesting that raising a complaint to the headmaster wouldn’t change the circumstances. He, too, is aware of Trey’s merits as my second-in-command and would wish for him to stay.”

Riddle shared a small, knowing smile with his friend. Indeed, Crowley had been present for the debacle—and indeed, he would promote their support of one another. To save face and reputation. (“Wh-What nonsense is this!! Of course my students are well-mannered and cooperative! What would make you think anything less of them?!”)

“Clever,” Trey mouthed.

“Well, I never!!” Mrs. Rosehearts huffed, abruptly rising from her seat. “The depths of depravity know no bounds!! To think you’ve magically convinced the entire school that you’re good…!!l

“I’ll do my best to show you my good points too, ma’am,” Trey replied. He couldn’t stop a smirk from making its way onto his lips. “After all, everyone at NRC’s like a diamond in the rough. All they need’s their time to shine.“

At this, Riddle coughed into a fist to conceal choked laughter. “… Yes, one could say such a thing. Rest assured, mother; I’m in good hands. There is no learning institution more fit for me than here.”

At our Night Raven College.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Riddle Rosehearts #twisted wonderland interactions #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #Trey Clover #NRC Family Day #twst interactions #twst scenarios #twst imagines

211 notes · View notes

the-local-lurker · 2 years ago

Text

Ectoberhaunt Day 17: Blood

Danny tries to find a reliable method to clean his ectoplasm contaminated blood from his clothes - there's a reason his parents always wear hazmat suits.

(748 words... and an illustration!) (a fair warning: it's probably not very good, I'm just trying to practice)

_______

It started out simple enough. He changed into his human form after a nasty fight and before he knew it, the side of Danny's t-shirt was soaked red with his blood, giving off strange green glints every now and then. Unfortunate, but not that bad.

Or that's what he thought, until he tried to wash it and realized that nothing worked. Not the usual things he used, and not even the tricks he found on the internet. Soap, water, baking soda, soaking, hydrogen peroxide, bleach…

“Ah!”

Bleach was a bit surprising.

Danny jerked his hand away from the sizzling brownish mess that was gradually eating away at the poor fabric of his favorite t-shirt, almost knocking over the white canister of bleach nearby with the sudden movement. Good thing that he had a few shirts like that.

He shook his fingers, slightly reddened and stinging from where they came into contact with the substance. It took him about a second of watching it bubble and increase in volume to deem it a lost cause and to hurriedly stuff it into the ecto-waste bag from the lab, whatever material it was made from thankfully withstanding the corrosive effects of the chemicals. Despite his swift action, a few leftover bubbles made it onto the floor, and proceeded to pop almost immediately, leaving nothing but a few small indentations in the tiles.

“… Man. I can't believe I use this thing regularly.” Danny mumbled, shooting a look at the canister.

So, that is a bust then.

Shaking his head, he stood up and lifted it, he should put it back in its place. And get rid of that bag.

The next morning, Danny frowned at his closet in irritation, looking at the splotchy stains visible on a couple of his t-shirts. He had four clean ones left, and a few on which the blood wasn't that noticeable or easily covered. One would think that with how fast he heals, this would be far less of a problem, but no. That would mean things going well for him for once and we can't have that.

... He'd have to get this figured out soon if he doesn't want to dodge even more questions, if only about why he suddenly insists on doing his laundry by himself.

Well, he'll think about it in school. Not much else he can do about it for now. He grabbed some clothes and quickly got ready. Shortly, he was leaving through the front door, yelling out a quick goodbye to no one in particular – it pleased him a little when he heard his parents respond from the basement – and headed out.

The walk to school was uneventful, and it was kind of sad how this was becoming a reason to feel uplifted. By the time he stood before the looming building, he still had time to spare, perfect.

____

“It sucks. Better outcome–no effect, worse outcome–when I tried bleach, it got all corrosive.” Danny threw up his hands in frustration as he walked to class with Sam and Tucker.

“Well, then you've got no other choice but to try random stuff until you discover something that works... What abooout… baking soda? Peroxide? Too obvious… lemon juice?” suggested Tucker, reading from his PDA.

“Nah, I tried all of that, among, like, twenty other things. I'm pretty sure there are literally no methods left,” answered Danny, sounding equal parts irritated and resigned.

“Even that detergent thing your parents made specifically for ectoplasm?”

“Yep. That smudged it a little, I think, but it's not really enough to be useful,”

“Have you tried stuff like sea salt or sage? Y'know, old school ghost purifying things? Might work on that too.” Shrugged Sam.

"I didn't. But that's..." Danny paused briefly, considering, before nodding: “that's worth a shot. Where do I get it?”

Sam grinned. “I've got you covered. I'll bring it to school tomorrow. You better take some rubber gloves or something though. If it works, it's not a stretch to say that it'll work on your skin too."

“Got it. Thank you, Sam, you're a lifesaver.”

____

What the hell, it works.

It took a few tries and combinations with other washing supplies, but finally, it works!

Danny will have to remember to thank Sam again after he's done with this, the relief he felt when he saw the dark spot gradually smudge and lose its saturation was stronger than he'd care to admit.

No more worrying about this particular problem.

Good.

#danny phantom #dp #ectoberhaunt23 #please don't mind me #Just practicing #I hope it's not *too* bad #my writing #if it even counts as that #my art #i actually tried with the drawing #I think i did a relatively decent job with the lined stuff #but i still can't get the hang of backgrounds #backgrounds are hard #also #how do I even begin to draw his hair???

139 notes · View notes

1moreff-creator · 4 months ago

Note

What would be everyone in P:EG’s favorite ice cream flavor?

Cassidy: There’s an ice cream shop near her house that sells video game themed popsicles, and the silliness of it all makes them taste better for her.

Damon: “Chocolate as dark and bitter as my soul” and also vanilla.

Desmond: Vanilla.

Diana: Neapolitan, though her favorite of the three is strawberry.

Eloise: Cookies and cream.

Eva: Blue moon. In my experience (which to be fair might be different in certain parts of the US), finding parlors that sell this flavor is actually as rare as a blue moon, and we all know Eva cannot stop suffering, so of course this is her favorite. She’s only been able to eat it a few times in her life. This one may or may not be inspired by real life circumstances.

Grace: Pistachio.

Ingrid: Strawberry.

Jean: There’s a parlor in one of the ports he visits often that sells sea-themed ice cream, with salted vanilla, chocolate, graham crackers, a bunch of stuff, and that’s his favorite.

Jett: Lemon.

Kai: People think it’s coffee ice cream, but it’s actually Neapolitan.

Mark: Lactose intolerant, doesn’t eat ice cream (just so we’re clear, this and everything else is a headcanon and nothing official).

Toshiko: “I am an elegant woman of refined tastes. There’s nothing I love more than matcha green tea ice cream.” Her actual favorite’s funfetti btw.

Ulysses: Rocky road.

Wenona: The most expensive kind of chocolate she can find.

Wolfgang: Vanilla and pistachio.

Cara: Neapolitan and cookies & cream.

Tozu: “Ice cream stained with the blood of the innocent and hopeless!” which means red velvet.

Mara: Ice. As in, she grabs ice cubes and bites down on them. Tozu is slightly scared.

Thanks for the ask!

#ask #p:eg #project eden’s garden #p:eg ensemble posting tag #sorry this took a bit #was on vacation #but now vacation’s over and while i enjoyed it a lot i’m also glad to return to tumblr dot com :)#fun fact i kept accidentally writing neapolitan with an o #if you know why you know why

19 notes · View notes

vibratingskull · 1 year ago

Text

A step in the right direction

Part1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

Tags : fluff, domesticity, date, first kiss, reader is disabled

You have a full week to enjoy Thrawn presence before going back to work, what will you do ?

FemaleReader x Thrawn

You wake up to an empty bed. You blink and yawn, stretching your spine. You lay your hand on Thrawn’s side of the bed, it’s cold. He’s been up for a long time already. You yawn again and pass on your fluffy dressing gown, open the shutter to let light enter the bedroom and head to your living room.

You find Thrawn sleeping on the couch.

You don’t know why he didn’t stay in bed with you. Maybe he felt a bit ill… Also it is quite exceptional for him to sleep this late. You tug on the plaid to cover up his shoulders and kiss his cheek, enamored by the picture. His face is so relaxed like that, he looks like a true angel. You nuzzle your nose with his cheek and his eyes opens instantly, well awakened.

“Good morning, mister.” You caress a strand of hair out of his face.

“Good morning, cha’cah.” He responds with a soft tone, caressing your cheek with his knuckles. “Did you sleep well?”

No you didn’t. Even if you didn’t have a nightmare this night it doesn’t mean you didn’t have a bad dream about your trauma.

“Quite well.” You lie to not worry him.

He looks at you straight in the eyes with an indecipherable expression.

“Really?” He insists.

“Yes!” You smile for him, a broad, large smile.

He doesn’t believe you, but doesn’t insist more, leaving you your privacy.

“And you?” You divert the discussion to him, “Why sleep on the sofa when we have a fluffy mattress?”

“It was too hot for me.”

“You felt uncomfortable? You want to get rid of one of the covers?”

“Do not worry about that, Cha’cah.” He raises his head to kiss your cheek tenderly. “Let us enjoy breakfast together?” He proposes.

You prepare caff while he’s cutting a loaf of soft white bread for you. He doesn’t consume white bread, too unhealthy and not enough nutrients. You look at him taking out a portion of Spira salmon for himself and you get more and more distressed at how he’s prepping it.

“Thrawn, I do not think this is a good way to prepare fish, you're cross-contaminating every utensil.”

He looks at you with what you think is surprise in his eyes.

“This is how I always did.”

You frown in disbelief.

“Nobody ever told you it was dangerous?”

“I rarely cook with someone else present.”

“Do you usually cook? Like at all?”

“I prefer going to the mess halls or wardroom or eating the dishes the droids prepared for me.”

You shake your head, sympathetic. Apparently he is as clueless in the kitchen than in politics.

“Let me help.”

You cut the flesh of the salmon in manageable quarters, and spread oil in a dish.

“First you're gonna cover the salmon quarters with butter and add a pinch of salt.”

He obeys as you grate a lemon over a bowl. His movements are swift and precise even if you realize he doesn’t know what he’s doing. You gave him the lemon.

“Now add the juice and the zest.”

You take out some dill that you wash thoroughly.

“I remember your cutting skills being impeccable, mince that finely with this shallot.”

And he does succeed, his blade techniques are immaculate. You cut lemons that you put on each quarter while Thrawn adds some crushed garlic and oil as you instructed him to.

“And now you let them cook in the oven. See? It wasn’t so bad.”

“Thank you, cooking is not one of my fields of expertise.” He wipes his hands with a dish towel. “You are more experienced than I am.”

“Not so much, I just learned a dozen of recipes by heart and play with them. That is nothing special.”

You remain standing against the counter when he takes your hand to pull you in his embrace. You hug him tight as he presses you against his warm body. He is so tall and broad, he could suffocate you without thinking about it, but his hugs are always so infinitely tender…

You sigh of contentment, head resting against his chest as he kisses the top of your head, listening to his beating heart. He is so muscular, it is criminal.

“I didn’t imagine you this affectionate.” You let out in a satisfied sigh.

“Does it displease you?”

“Absolutely not.” You hug him tighter “Keep going like that.”

His hands caress your back and circle your shoulders in a chaste manner, cradling you gently. But your mind wanders elsewhere, being pressed against such a body awakes your desires and you can’t help but think about how thin your pajamas are, how warmth travels from his skin to yours, how you want him to devour you in one go. He’s such an athletic man, his stamina must be unmatched, it makes you drool just thinking about it.

“Thrawn…” You moan and you feel him tensing up under your touch, you part slightly from him to open your dressing gown “I am so hot suddenly, you want to… help me out?” you mewl.

He smiles lightly and closes back your gown, much to your dismay.

“Thrawn?”

“Do not worry, cha’cah. Everything is okay.”

You try to reach his lips and he stops you, pressing his hand on your mouth. You growl in response.

Why?

“Not now, cha’cah. Let me do it my way, I want it to be perfect.” He licks the tip of your nose, and you hear a faint purr starting.

He presses you back against him and you feel the vibration of his purr through the tender flesh of your cheek.

“Promise?” You ask, full of doubt.

“I promise you, cha’cah. You will not have to wait long still.”

“How long?” You press, at the end of your patience and on the verge of explosion.

“My, my, are you not an impatient one?” He lowly chuckles.

“I have been waiting for you for ten years.” You deadass respond.

“I know.”

What?

“You… You knew?”

“Of course.”

You look at him with eyes round like saucers and embarrassment settling in.

“You think I did not notice how warm you get standing next to me? That I never noticed how you crossed your legs in a desperate attempt to calm down your burning core? How squeamish you became when talking to me? Do you think I am blind?” He murmurs in your ears, licking the outer shell with the tip of his warm tongue.

You gasp feeling the warm wet limb caressing your sensitive skin.

“You think I was unconscious when you tried to kiss me in the library?” he keeps teasing you.

You feel your whole body burning with desire and your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“You were awake?!” you choke.

“I was.” He blows at your ear, his hand slowly going down your body, “You did well to stop in time.”

“Or… Or what?” all your words crash in your mouth.

“Or I would not have been accountable for my actions.”

Does… Does that mean that he would have had you on the table like that or that he would have manhandled you to stop you?

“Me… Meaning?”

“Do not fret about it, cha’cah. You stopped just in time, and that was for the best for both of us.” He nibbles your ear.

“Okay…” You say a bit relieved and a bit afraid.

He keeps playing with your ear, teasing you as he chuckles and you can’t refrain your yelps under his touch.

“So… When you proposed we sleep in the same bed, you were playing with me?”

“No. I would not have disrespected you like that. It was just the most practical solution.” He caresses his fingers through your hair.

“But if you knew, why not come to me sooner? Why wait ten years?”

“You were too young for me.”

You pout at the revelation, frowning your eyebrows and pursing your lips.

“Do not look at me like that, cha’cah. You were barely 20 when I was already 40, I needed you to mature and grow, to flourish into the great woman you are today.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t count me as a possibility because I was “too young”.” You wince

“Nobody was a possibility at that time.”

“And now?”

“Now there is only you.” He kisses your closed eyelids.

His hand caresses your lower back, ever so slightly sliding the tip of his fingers past the hem of your little short. You inhale sharply at the sensation of his warm palm against your colder skin.

“Thrawn…” You moan again as his other hand slides under your shirt to caress your back.

“Mmh?” He murmurs, eyes closed as he rests his chin on the top of your head.

“I want you.” You confess.

“Me too, cha’cah.” He kisses your forehead and tugs on your shirt to reclothe your properly “But I should not get your hopes up.”

He kisses your forehead one last time and parts from you to take out the salmon out of the oven, leaving you arms dangling, mouth agape and craving for more.

“Breakfast is ready.” He announces and he starts serving the quarters.

You sit down, body boiling and mind bubbling. You eat little mouthfuls, hands trembling, you were so close to have him but he cockblocked you last second.

Two times!

He takes a bite and his pupils widen instantly.

“This is delicious.”

“I am happy you like it.” You try to smile through your distress.

You both remain silent for the rest of the meal but under the table he slides his feet to caress yours. Your bite almost fell out of your fork as he plays footsie with you with the sternest expression, completely unbothered.

You finish your meal as best you can trying not to flush furiously.

“Do you have something planned for today?” He asks you out of the blue.

“Hum, not especially. It was supposed to be a slow day today.”

“Good. I will be taking you shopping this afternoon.” He says standing up to clear the table.

“For what occasion?” You ask, surprised.

“I am taking you to the Pinnacle tonight. I have a table reserved for us two.” He casually explains.

Your last bite took a wrong turn.

“The Pinnacle? But you have to wait more than ten months to have a table booked here!”

“Do you think I came to see you unprepared?” He raises his eyebrow like it was obvious “We are booked for 20h.” He kisses your temple and leaves you to take a shower.

You await your turn, legs dangling off the bed, squirming like a little girl. A dinner at the Pinnacle? As a first date? He really goes strong! You giggle to yourself, excited like a child, you feel like 16 again. You let yourself lay down on the bed, listening to the water running next door and realize that there is only a thin wall separating you from his mighty naked body. Instantly your imagination starts running wild, remembering the time you spied on him at the waterfall and how good he looked at the lake with only his boxers on. You bite your lower lips, you’re way to horny for your own good.

With devious hopes you knock on the door and he invites you to enter the bathroom, you open the door in a swift movement and are immediately disappointed.

He’s already fully clothed.

Blast.

“A problem?” He asks innocently.

“No.” You pout, better chance next time.

He put on a white chemise, a waistcoat and black pants, one of his three civilian outfits. You realize he’s applying his red eyeliner under his eyes. You observe the very meticulous brush actions on his blue skin. You’re absolutely fascinated.

“You want to help me?” He asks gently.

“I can?” you’re surprised and caught unaware.

He hands you the brush and the pigment and takes a chair to sit as you delicately manipulate the brush to adorn his beautiful face. You hold your breath, careful to not make a clumsy movement and ruin the make up. He lets you do, fully trusting you with his eyes closed, you trace the lines of his favorite pattern under his lower eyelids, trying to replicate it the best you can.

You’re so close to one another, you feel his breath on your chin and he must feel your on his closed eyelids. You gently hold his cheek to prevent him from moving, feeling the warmth spreading through your palm.

“It’s almost finished.”

“You can add some modifications if you want.” He tells you softly.

“I can?”

“Of course, you really progressed with your makeup techniques these last few years. I will be your canvas for today, be creative.”

“If I do it, you will do mine?” You propose.

“As you wish.”

You add scrolls and dots of red with the brush and a gradient burgundy eyeshadow that melt in the marvelous blue of his skin and outline it all with some golden eyeliner, giving him a sharp look.

He takes the time to observe himself in the mirror, looking at every angle.

“It is successful.”

“You like it?” you ask full of hopes.

“I do.” He confirms “Take your shower and I will paint your visage.” He tells you with a soft smile.

You undress and enter the shower, and immediately scream in pain. Thrawn comes back running, knocking at the door.

“Cha’cah? Is everything alright?”

You open the door violently, shaking.

“What kind of shower do you take?! It is scorching hot, I burned my entire body!” You fulminate, still feeling the bite of the boiling water on your skin.

He passes his hand under the water without wincing.

“Is it? I find it quite relaxing.” He seems confused.

“Relaxing?!” You repeat astonished “This water is well over 60°!”

“I am sorry, I will remember it.”

No taking showers after Thrawn, noted! He looks in your direction and immediately looks away like he is embarrassed.

“Could you please put on your nightgown instead of simply hiding behind that thin towel?” He makes the conscious effort not to look at you.

You look down at yourself, realizing you're just holding the towel in front of you, barely hiding your bare body before his eyes. You were so taken by surprise you didn’t cover yourself better.

“Out, mister!” You order, indicating the door.

He silently exits the bathroom and you take a nice, COLD shower.

You dress up and let him enter back to do your makeup. You could fall asleep under his gentle brush strokes, it’s like a facial massage. You give him total control, letting him have his fun as he did to you. You relax under his warm, careful hands.

“There. What do you think?”

You turn to the mirror and gasp. That is not how you do your makeup at all, it is a totally different technique but the result is so… Exotic.

“Oh wow.” You let out, approaching your face to the glass.

“I tried to match our makeup.” He explains.

“I love it, actually.” You admit, admiring your profile. “When did you learn all those techniques?”

“We use makeup to express our affiliation to a family early on in our life.” He informs, tidying the makeup case. “Shall we go?” He turns to you with sparkling eyes.

You take his hand and head to the department stores of Coruscant.

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

You quickly found THE dress. You saw it in a shop window on a mannequin and dragged Thrawn into the boutique. This is a marvelous long, velvety dark green dress that hides your mechanical legs, which the other dress didn’t. With off, flared shoulders and a twirl of fabric drawing scrolls and roses on the skirt you can’t help but twirl in front of the mirror while Thrawn refuses an nth glass of champagne proposed by the employees. You pull on the skirt to observe your legs. They are only practical and crude, not at all made for a fancy setting and you’re afraid they might spoil your fun. You know they allow you to walk again but you can’t help but hate them a bit.

“Do you like this dress?” Thrawn asks, slouching on a sofa like a king.

“Yes! It is beautiful! I love it!”

You take the tag and choke at the price. It’s worth more than 5 months of your paycheck.

“Ouch!”

“A problem?”

“Yes, the price. I don’t have the salary for it” You wince.

You take a final look at you in the mirror, appreciating how it hugs your forms and accentuate your complexion. Too bad…

“You are not paying that.” He simply says.

You turn to him, outraged.

“Thrawn, I won’t let you pay for that dress, it’s unaffordable!”

“Not for me.” And like that he summons an employee with the snap of a finger. “We will take that dress, do you have any set of jewels that would accord with it?”

“Thrawn!” You say, choked and embarrassed.

“Of course, sir.” The employee bows “I will show you our jewelry. Right this way.”

You’re being ushed back to the changing room with a female employe to help you dress and undress, she meticulously folds the dress and put it in a velour box and hand it to you with a broad smile.

You join back Thrawn observing the shiny jewels, listening to the advice of the employee, giving him the different carat of each piece. You take him by the arm and drag him to the side.

“ Thrawn, what are you doing?”

“I am paying you a dress you love?” He responds equally confused.

“Thrawn, this dress and those jewellery are prohibitively expensive! You can’t be serious?”

“I am always serious.” He drily answers “Why you do not want me to pay for you?”

“Because… Because…” Your mouth suddenly dries.

“Does it remind you of him?” He tilts his head.

You dig your nails in your palms, uneasy. Nather used to buy things he loved, not really caring for your comfort or taste.

“In a sense… Yes.” You let out in a shaky breath.

“Then what if I buy them on credit?” He holds his chin thinking.

“What?”

“I pay for you today, and you will repay me in the future. Would it be more comfortable for you?”

That… could work…

“I… Yes. I would prefer that.”

He delicately holds your chin and kisses your forehead.

“Let us choose those jewels, then.”

He brought you back to the jewel stall and helps you choose diamonds you truly like. It makes you feel dizzy to wear something so pricey, what if you broke them or lose them somewhere?

You finally settle for an orichalk necklace that mimics a grapevine with little shiny diamonds as flowers here and there and a pair of chandelier earrings. You don’t even ask the price, it’s better for your heart to wait a bit.

Next stop is finding a costume for Thrawn and it is proven more difficult, no stores can accommodate his stature, it’s always too short or too tight and uncomfortable While he chooses and tries different ones you're tapping away on your comlink to find the next boutique. You’re going back to him when you localized a tailor down the road while an employee that just took his measurements embarrassedly admits they don’t have his size.

“We’ll have more chances at the next one.” You cheer him up. “We’ll have to exit the department store tho.”

“I am not worried.” He simply says, gentlemanly carrying your bags.

“It’s a little boutique but surely they would have more choice, those are artisanal costumes they should accommodate a wider range of bodies and… Thrawn?” You look where he standed to realize he’s not here anymore.

You turn back on your track and find him looking at a shop window. As you approach you realize it’s a wedding boutique, displaying their wedding dresses. His face is stern and calm but his gaze his fixed on the white fabric.

“You… Want to enter?” You ask, a bit shyly.

“No. That would be premature.” He shakes his head.

You look at the beautiful dresses. A glimpse into the store lets you see happy couples trying on the dresses and costumes, you hear laughter and joy.

You feel his hand sliding in yours and intertwining your fingers.

“Shall we go?” He asks

You nod with a smile and you walk out hand in hand. You’re on a little fluffy cloud. You press yourself against him and squeeze his hand as you feel lighter and lighter, giggling like a little girl.

“Why are you laughing?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“Nothing. I am just happy to be with you.” You broadly smile.

He squeezes back your hand in a dignified silence and you reach the little boutique.

It is a charming little room with false wood packed full with clothes and fabrics of all sorts.

“What do you might want?” the Mirialan tailor asks behind his counter, working on a vest.

“I am searching for a tail coat.” Thrawn explains.

“And several civilian outfits.” You add, taking out a waistcoat off a shelf.

They both look at you, Thrawn with questions in his eyes, he only searched for a costume but you feel like this boutique could finally complete his wardrobe.

The old man stands up with his tape measure.

“Let’s see what we are working with.”

While Thrawn gots his measurement taken for the nth time today you rummage through the shelfs, hangers and mannequin.

“You are quite tall and large sir, I see why you had trouble finding a costume to your measure.” The tailor comments, unphased.

“You have something for him?” you ask.

“No.”

“Oh…” You lower your shoulders, disappointed.

“I will need to do some touch up on my costumes. You’re lucky I am quite quick at it.”

“So you can do something for us?” You inquire full of hopes.

“Yes. But searching a costume for the same day is a stupid idea.” He berates.

“We are busy people.” Thrawn explains.

“That’s what they all say, and who do they come crying to after? Me.” The tailor grumbles, “Choose your costumes, I will touch them up.”

You have fun having Thrawn trying on chemises and vests, you try different fabrics, different colors, different shades.

“Is the buttons to your liking?” The tailor asks.

“Yes?” You respond unsure “They’re just buttons…”

“That’s where you’re wrong lil’miss” He chastises you very seriously “Buttons make or break the entire character of a costume, you have to harmonize them with the fabric, the shades, whether or not you wear rings… You don’t happen to wear rings, do you?” He turns to Thrawn.

“No I do not.”

“So those are not the correct ones.”

He opens a very, very large drawer with a complete collection of different types of buttons.

“Oh I like those ones!” you indicate.

“I am gonna make the call if you don’t mind.” He responds, grumpy.

This man doesn't like to be told how to do his job visibly. You go back to Thrawn who’s looking for different pants.

“Find something that tickles your fancy?”

“Perhaps.”

“You are darn lucky I had hems to each of my pieces!” The tailor shouts from the other side of the workshop.

You pout, looking in his direction before showing your finding to Thrawn. You tried to add some pastel colors to his wardrobe but he isn’t as keen as you.

“Try it on again.” The tailor comes back with the black tail-coat.

“Already?” You ask dumbfounded?

“You think I am some kind of newbie?”

Thrawn reappears with the tail coat, suiting him perfectly. For all his bad behaviors this tailors really know his work. It's really impressive.

“Woaw.” You let out.

“Do you like it?” Thrawn asks you, observing himself in the mirrors.

“I mean… You have such a figure in this. Do you like it?”

“It seems proper to me.” He flattens the black vest on his gray waistcoat.

The buttons the tailor choosed are, indeed, better.

“Try those ones.” He gives Thrawn black costume shoes. “You know how to accord those?”

“The belt?” Thrawn answers.

“Indeed, remember: the belt with the shoes, the tie or the scarf with the clutch and never, and I mean NEVER more than 3 colors or tone on tone. If you follow those rules you should be good.”

“They didn’t tell us that at the department store.” You think out loud.

“Of course they didn’t. They burn your eyes with glitters and gold but they don’t even know the first thing about tailoring.” He grumps, tidying the clothes you didn’t choose.

You exchange a glance with Thrawn, this man takes his art very, very seriously.

“I’ll send you your touched up clothes in two weeks.” He informs, folding the tail coat in a small briefcase and putting the waked shoes in a box. He hands you a large bag and pretty much shoos you out of the boutique.

“Well, that was an experience.”

“You think? I think I appreciate this man.” Thrawn responds deadpan. “But he was right, finding a costume for the same day was risky.”

“Well, we got one. And you look absolutely gorgeous in it, so I’m not complaining.” You rise to kiss his cheek.

You feel him shiver at the contact of your lips and a low purr starts.

“I love when you purr. This is soooo… Adorable.” You nuzzle your nose to his cheek.

“Glad you appreciate this quirk of mine.” He takes your hand and guides you back to your ship.

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

Thrawn gallantly opens the flying car’s door to you and extends his hand for you to take support, you’re in no heels so you don’t need to but you still take his hand. He escorts you under the shining lights of the Pinnacle, everything is golden and sparkly and you can hear classical music coming from the dining rooms inside. You walk on the marble floor, trying not to slip on your long dress concealing your hideous mechanical legs. All around you the guests are as prestigious as Thrawn, you recognize Governors, Ambassadors, Moffs and you’re almost afraid you’ll cross paths with Tarkin. The footman guides you two to your table and the decadence starts. They brought you different entree and side dishes to start with numerous types of exotic breads.

How are you supposed to eat a full course dinner with so many plates? You’re only at the first entrees and you’re already practically full. You try your best to keep your manners in check to not shock anyone around you while Thrawn is more relaxed, his naturally elegant manners are surely not a problem for him.

“I think I am already full.” You sigh when you see another entree of vegetables is brought to your table.

“I told you not to eat too much at noon.” Thrawn grins slightly, taking a sip of water from his crystal glass.

“I was under the impression that the chic restaurants’ portions were ridiculously small.”

“You have been proven wrong.”

He keeps to plain water while you indulge in pricey champagne and wines, but knowing the place it must be pure source water of some mountain somewhere. You observe the dining room you’re in, it imitates the rococo style of some former human empire you don’t really know much about, Thrawn knows however and you let him narrate every style choices of the architecture and its cultural meaning. Him who’s usually so silent speaks so much when it comes to art and you gladly shut up and listen to his deep melodic voice explaining to you why the crystals of the chandelier are of such color and not another one. You eat all his words up, asking questions to keep him going and he gladly answers, serving you long tirades as you eat your expensive seafood.

The room is circular with a dance floor at the center, circled by the dinner tables. The musicians are on a balcony, presiding over the dining room. The floor is a waxed, shiny wooden floor supporting different white stone columns. The walls are white with golden moldings and decorations of nymphs and fauns.

The food is delicious, rich and creamy, melting on your tongue. You almost moan of pleasure at each bite. This is so good!

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Thrawn asks softly.

“This is a delicious soiree, Thrawn. Thank you so much.” You smile brightly at him.

“My pleasure.”

Finally the main courses are coming, the dinner finally advances.

The waiters brought you your dish under a cloche for the reveal. They come in perfect synchrony and rise up the cloche.

Your smile dies down and your stomach sinks immediately.

Meat…

You feel a cold sweat down your spine and nausea rise.

Not meat.

Everything but that.

Since that revelation…

“I said no meat for us.” Thrawn immediately warns the waiters with an icy cold tone. “Send it back immediately.” The tone calls for no discussion and the waiters turn back with the dishes in their hands, apologizing profusely.

One of the butlers sees you sending back the plates and comes checking in.

“Is everything alright Sir and Ma’am?”

You just take your napkin to your mouth, holding your stomach uncomfortably.

“No.” Thrawn answers darkly, “I specifically asked for no meat dishes for me and my fiance when I reserved and one still managed to find its way to us.”

“I am truly sorry Sir, it is intolerable. I will castigate my teams as they deserve. Maybe another bottle of wine free of charge would appease you?” He commercially proposes.

“I need fresh water…” You weakly inform.

“Of course, Ma’am. Right away.” And like that, he is gone.

Thrawn extends his open hand to you. You weakly meet him with yours, trembling.

“Are you alright, Cha’cah?” He gently asks, with worry in his eyes.

“I… I think it will pass.” You say as the malaise slowly dissipates.

You can’t touch meat since that day… You can’t even smell it without being violently sick.

“I am sorry, do you want some fresh air on the patio?”

“No… No, it’s good.” You deeply breath in and out, searching for another subject to take your mind off of it “Say, what does “cha’cah”means? It isn’t the first time I hear you say it.”

“Well, “ He smiles enigmatically, caressing your finger with his “In cheuhn it means “beloved” or “most dear”.”

You feel your cheeks heating up instantly, you almost want to hide your face behind the menu.

“Oh…”

“Does it displease you?” He tilts his head.

“No! No at all.” You reassure him. “It is… It’s an honor for me to be called such by you.” You say embarrassed and heart puffing up with love.

He leans over to gallantly kiss your hand. You feel your heart on the verge of explosion.

“I am glad.”

“Can I give you a pet name too?”

“Of course, I would be honored.”

“Love?”

“I would be most touched.”

“Darling?”

“It sounds sweet to my ears with your voice.” He caresses your hand fondly.

The butler comes back with a jug full of water and ice and a second one with an expensive red wine bottle.

“Would this appease the worries we caused you?”

Thrawn takes the bottle to check it.

“It is acceptable.” He just responds, keeping them on their toes for what they’ve done to you “Bring me some fruit juice, I am tired of water.”

The butlers bow down and leave you for your dinner.

Red fish is brought to you with a creamy herbal sauce. You eat slower to not upset your sensitive stomach and you still feel yourself trembling a bit. Thrawn serves you another champagne glass when his juice reach your table.

“I would like to raise toast.” He announce to you.

“Oh!” You take your glass in hand, “In what honor?”

“Yours. I did not have the time to congratulate you for your recent promotion.”

That’s right!

Your promotion to Commander.

You were so excited to see Thrawn for a week you completely forgot about that.

“Is that why you asked for juice?” You cheekily ask.

“I was not envisioning myself raising a toast with plain water.” He humbly confesses “I am happy to be able to celebrate it at your side tonight, cha’cah. My congratulations, you deserve it.”

You clink your crystal glasses and take a sip.

“Would you offer me this dance?” He asks standing up.

Your sip almost goes the wrong way.

“I… Right now? Here?”

“Yes.” He looks you in the eyes, resoluted.

“Its just… I only managed to walk with those legs, I’m not sure I can…”

“A good thing is the man who leads, then. Take support on me, Cha’cah, I will hold you firmly.”

You take his hand after hesitation and you walk to the center of the room, where other couples are already dancing. He places his hand firmly on your lower back, pressing you against him and takes your hand gently in his.

“We are not supposed to be this close.” You remind him with a side smile.

“What if I want you that close to me?” He responds without missing a beat and starts waltzing with you in his arms.

You twirl in your deep green dress like wings, a bit unsure of your legs at first but you quickly find your rhythm and dance with all your soul with him.

“Thrawn! You’ve been practicing?” You realize suddenly.

You remember the Academy ball, he managed to save his face for one dance but the way was long and tortuous, but now he seems so much more at ease, sure of his steps and not fighting against you.

“I asked Commodore Faro to help me.” He reveals.

You can’t help but laugh imagining them both trying to dance in Thrawn’s office, Karyn must have had so much difficulty to bring him to such a level.

“Well, she did a really great job. You are a fine dancer now.”

“Thank you.” He slightly bows his head to the compliment, “You still have it yourself.”

You dance, wrapped in the melody, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, eyes fixed on his face.

“Why such a blissful smile?” He asks, maybe a bit embarrassed to be fixed that close?

“You’re just so gorgeous.” You say unembarrassed, “And that tail coat suits you so well. You are such a handsome man I sometimes wonder how you can be real and how I managed to have you.”

He lets out a humble chuckle.

“Thank you for all those compliments. I ask myself the same questions about you.”

You feel your cheeks burning again and you press your cheek against his chest to hide your face from his gaze.

You keep turning, waltzing among the other couples, close to each other. You focus yourself on his beating heart like a soothing melody.

And finally the waltz ends.

“Follow me to the balcony.” He murmurs in your ear.

The night is fresh and the balcony is empty of people but full of flowers and plants. You caress one leaf with the tip of your finger as Thrawn closes the glass door behind you.

“(Y/n)?”

You turn to him with a little smile, awaiting fo him to speak his mind. He comes close to you and kisses your hand delicately again, his other hand comes caressing your cheek, you can’t help but lean into his palm with a contented smile.

“(Y/n)(F/n), I love you.” He says so low you barely hear him.

He presses his forehead to yours, still caressing your cheek.

“Do I have the permission to kiss you?” He asks.

Your heart skip a beat and your stomach ties itself in knots.

Your first kiss, finally.

“Do I?” He repeats at your silence.

“Yes!” You exclaim with joy and and excitation “Yes you have it!”

“Close your eyes, please.”

You close them immediately and lick your lips, ravenous, excited like a child.

“I am going to kiss you now.” He murmurs, holding both of your cheeks.

You feel his breath on your lips then an incredibly tender sensation and warmth as your lips finally meet. The kiss is soft, light, overflowing with love but you feel real fireworks in your stomach. His thumbs gently caress your cheeks and you hear yourself growling for more. You feel his lips stretch in a small smile and a faint purr starts. You circle his shoulders with your arm and hold the back of his head to deepen the kiss. He obliges and the soft kiss becomes something more, something ravenous and full of desires. You feel his hands sneaking their way in your back, pressing you together to his hot body. The purr is now loud and echoes in the night. You hungrily respond to his kiss, parting your lips for him to enter. He gently bites down your lower lips before kissing you again, entering your mouth to meet your tongue, hugging and dancing with it.

He reluctantly parts with you when he feels you panting for air, by reflex you try to follow his lips as he moves away to not end the kiss but he stops you in your track with a peck on the tip of your nose. You pant heavily, eyes darken with lust and desire and the feeling to be deprived of a tasty candy.

“There will be more.” He promises you to calm you down.

You damn well hope there will be more kisses!

But for now he gently holds you close on that fancy balcony, cradled by the sweet music and the laugh of the guests and for the first time in months you finally feel truly at peace.

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

The kisses are hungry and heavy, robbing you both of your breath. You don’t know how but he manages to open the door of the apartment without stopping to kiss you. You enter, almost tripping on one another and the door closes back to give you intimacy.

You deeply growl, burying your nails in his vest, almost tearing the expensive fabric apart. You suddenly push him down the sofa and he lends with a “oof.”. you don’t leave him time to ask questions, you straddle his laps and embrace him with your arms.

“Eager, are you not?” He manages to mock between your kisses.

“You have no idea.” You answer darkly, filled with a dark energy.

You dishevel his black blue hair, biting down his lips harshly. By instinct you start humping his thighs and moan against his lips. You feel his burning red gaze on you, embolding you.

“Do you like how I kiss you?” You ask between two kisses.

“Yes. Very much so.” He breathes in response.

He takes a fistful of your hair while grabbing your butt. You moan against his mouth, letting your hands travel south to his belt. You try to unfasten it,clumsy with your haste, shaking with excitement, but his hands come to seize yours, immobilizing them.

You look at him without understanding.

“No, Cha’cah.” He simply says “Not tonight.”

You lower your shoulders, clearly disappointed.

“Oh… Did I do something?” You worry.

“No.” He shakes his head and kisses your cheek. “This is me. I am the only one at fault.”

He keeps peppering your face with peck as you register that he just served you the bullshit “it’s not you it’s me.” excuse.

So you definitely did something.

You must have.

But what?

Away from your inner turmoil, Thrawn captures your lips again for a softer kiss.

“Hold me close, cha’cah.” He murmurs in your ear.

So you hug him tight as he kisses your neck, his hands on your back, cradling you.

But you can’t help thoughts spinning in your head.

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

He sighs.

Tonight again he can’t bear to sleep next to you.

He feels his body tensing up and his muscles rolling under his skin. His breath is short and his heart pounds in his chest. He gives a side glance at your asleep self, face relaxed and breath deep as you sleep soundly.

He must get out of this bed, of this bedroom.

The kiss was a bad idea, he regrets it now. He takes a very needed cold shower and heads to the living room and lays down the sofa for another night again.

Away from you.

He sighs again, much more at ease and comfortable and finally drifts off to sleep.

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo, @germie2037

#thrawn #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x f!reader #grand admiral thrawn #mitth’raw’nuruodo #fanfic #vibratingskull

37 notes · View notes

matrixxsystem · 11 months ago

Text

Luck Runs Out Part 5

Everyone squeezed into a booth in one of the corners of the restaurant and took a look at the menus laid on the table, Leo and Usagi looked so.. Natural? At this sort of thing, they were chatting away cracking jokes and not even worried about anyone else who looked their way. When the waitress came over to ask about drinks everyone basically froze up, save for April, Leo and Usagi. Which in all fairness they were all fairly terrified of the human population seeing as if they were found out, anything could happen, including something terrible like what happened to Leo. That was more than enough to make them worry about being found out. After they decided on drinks the waitress smiled and left not even giving thought to the tables weird demeanor.

"Wow" Leo started with a little chuckle, "That was- Hard to watch, see this is exactly what I was talking about! You guys have like no social skills, I mean we're shut ins and hermits so I get it- No ones fault- But we really gotta work on that." He smiled over at Usagi feeling his boyfriends hand against his own, "Anyway- Casey! How've you been adjusting?" Casey perked up from inspecting a salt packet like a deer in headlights. "O-Oh, well... Good? I mean- I kind of didn't think I'd be, y'know, here? Not like- I just.. When the timeline was reset and stuff I thought.."

"That you'd cease to exist?" Donnie cut in, "It's a common trope in movies and media that once the time branch is disconnected or ended that all its inhabitants 'poof' from existing, but after seeing the timeline be actively altered I started thinking that may not be the case if it'd just now an isolated timeline.."

"In English Donnie-"

"Eye roll.. Fine. If he changed the future that might not mean that his past doesn't still exist somewhere. So there's a few things that could happen since he's still here in the past alive and well." Casey tilted his head a bit, "Oh? Like.. What?" Donnie gave a little shrug as he tapped away on his phone, "I'm thinking that because there's no other you in this timeline this is still your timeline in a sense, but once you're born into this timeline if you ever do now that the future is changed, you could cease to exist. So you might only have a few years left. Or you might only exist as long as you don't interact with any other versions of you? Since there aren't supposed to be two versions of you in one timeline it might try correcting itself if you two came into contact."

"Or..?" Casey asked, really hoping for a better alternative. Donnie gave a not so reassuring shrug as he spoke, "Or, because you're from a different timeline all together it might have no effect on us and the timeline might not even register you as the same person, which is how it seems. No rifts or world shattering events have happened since you got here, y'know, besides the one.. But that's unrelated to you." Casey nodded a little as he listened, getting a little tense again when the woman brought everyone's drinks and took orders, Leo taking the lead and ordering for nearly everyone since he already knew what his brothers would want to eat. Once she left again they all took a moment testing the drinks, nothing new about water and Pepsi. Casey still made a face at the carbonation of his drink, but then took another sip making the same almost painful expression, like watching a toddler try a lemon or a pickle for the first time. Leo let out a little chuckle as he pulled his phone back out, "Anyway- Since were all here I wanted to talk about the festival coming up, and about the plans we all had." Casey perked up a little, "Plans? Was going there itself not the plan?" He asked, his head tilted a little. Leo shook his head with a little chuckle, "I mean, before and after that plan we wanted to.. y'know, make.. more plans? Usagi had an idea if you guys would wanna go eat out somewhere before going, then maybe split up for a bit, get back together for some games and the firework show they're gonna do, then go our ways for the night? Or something like that?"

"Oh, yeah I guess that makes sense too."

"There's a few places we were looking at, since Leo was trying to check out the East end of town for a while now and they have a pretty good mix of food it might be fun, and not to far from the festival.. Only if everyone else was okay with that of course." Usagi said with a little nod as he spoke. "The expensive end of town?" Donnie asked, head still turned downwards looking at his phone, "Well-Technically yes, but since Leo's been helping me with a some work here and there we have a bit saved up. We wouldn't ask any of you to pay" He glanced over to Leo who was busy staring back at him, apparently lost in thought. He rolled his eyes with a little chuckle and booped his nose, "Anyone home~?" Leo blinked a few times, crossing his eyes to look at Usagi's finger then back to his eyes, "Ah- Sorry- What were you saying-?" The woman came back over with the food and everyone got quiet again for a moment till she was gone. "Nothing important" Usagi said once they were in the clear, "Are you okay though?" Leo nodded, taking a fry off Usagi's plate, "Mhmm, no I'm good" He put his phone away as Usagi took Leos plate without him needing to ask and help him cut some of the food he knew Leo would struggle with. He slid the plate back over to Leo stealing a small piece with his fork before Leo could protest, as a tax for the fry of course. "So.." Casey glanced between them a little then over to April still a little confused on the overall plan. "We're gonna.. Go eat first? Or go to the town first? Then watch some.. good explosions? Then go home?" Donnie nodded, "That's about the jist of it yes. We're just deciding the order of those events so everyone is clear on them. "Casey nodded a little as he started to eat, even after all these months of him being back in the past he was still amazed by the small things like the variety of foods and drinks available. He paused for a moment to savor it before continuing, having to remind himself that things like this were just the norm now. He smiled a little as he listened to the boys argue about what they all wanted to do first, and what time would be good for everyone. It took a good while but eventually they all gave in to the plan of running around the festival first then meeting for dinner, watching the fireworks then going their separate ways, weather they wanted to stay till the festival was well past over or go home right away it didn't matter too much. "So, future boy." Usagi said after a bit of silence, "I wanted to ask you something."

"Oh-? Sure Usagi-san"

"I know I shouldn't ask much about affairs that could endanger the present, but I'd really like to know about the other versions of me and Leo, we were together in that timeline if I'm not mistaken?" Casey nodded a little as he ate, "Yeah, well, you weren't like.. As close as you are now- Physically I mean. Showing affection wasn't really something people did in the open, it showed weakness, sentiment that could be exploited.. So we didn't really know just how close you guys were, and for how long. I mean in the hideout it was different, and you guys seemed... Happy, sharing glances and helping the other with stuff when they didn't have to. I was still pretty young when you died so I-" He froze for a moment and looked up to see everyone's concerned expression, only Usagi and Leo didn't seem as phased as the rest. Right, they didn't know much about the grim ends they all met fighting the Kraang.. "I'd like to know if you're okay to continue" Usagi said softly, trying to sound as calm and honest as possible. Casey just nodded again after a moment of hesitation, "One of the big ones, the fights I mean.. There were a handful of full-scale battles before I left, I wasn't old enough to fight in this one, but I got to go with as a medic and to carry wounded home so.. I got to see it happen, I was right there..." Casey looked back down at his plate, "He rushed to help sensei fend off what we called kroggs, animals that'd been infected and sicked on us, tearing apart everything in their path. Sensei was already hurt, and half the pack was running at him, Usagi-san saved him. He saved a lot of people that day and gave us all time to retreat. When I circled back to make sure everyone alive had been taken back I saw them both, laying there on the ground. I wasn't close enough to hear it but Usagi-san grabbed sensei's hand in his and told him something that made him start crying.. I called for backup, I wasn't strong enough to take sensei back myself yet."

"How old were you?" Usagi asked, seemingly unphased by the rest of the story. "..I was eleven." He said back, there was another pause between everyone. "I guess it's comforting in a way, to know that Leo was there with me, and that I would be able to save him, and that we ended up together regardless." Leo took Usagi's hand in his giving it a gentle squeeze, "I should also say, sometimes after talking to Casey about his future you might uh.. Get some memories from you're future self, it's totally normal though and its usually just like, having weird dreams or something just so you're warned about that-"

"Oh? Interesting.. Is that what happened to you the other night Leo? Or was it just a weird dream making you talk out loud?" Leo shrugged a little, "I honestly don't remember, what'd I even say?"

"Something along the lines of dismantling a robotic version of your oldest brother I think?" They turned back to Casey, "Well Jr-" Leo asked with a little smirk, "Ring any bells-? Uh- Casey..?" Leo quickly wiped the smug expression off his face, a slightly concerned one replacing it immediately seeing his reaction. "Wait- I become a robot in the future?" Raph asked, nearly choking on his drink hearing that it was in fact something that the future held. Donnie put a hand on Casey shoulder and nodded, "Yeaaah, so I'll take this one, I analyzed some of the logs from Casey mask that my future self apparently modified for him and there's... A lot of information that was there but there was a good amount on the schematics and general upkeep instructions for an oversized Raph-bot of sorts. It seems his body wasn't able to be fully recovered but they devised a way to keep his consciousness in a container and allow that container free reign over the metal form. One that was eventually used as a last resort power source once I was no longer around to fix things myself."

"Wait you died?!" Raph looked a lot more concerned that he did about his own 'death' it seemed, Donnie just shrugged, "What did you expect? I'm an autistic softshell who'd lost his ninpo and been infected, my physical form was crumbling months before you died, it was only a matter of time, I'm honestly surprised that my future self managed for as long as he did. Me personally, I'd just take the L and call it a day haha-"

"You wHAT?" Raph said putting his drink down, causing a few heads to turn to look their way. He quickly quieted down and tried to compose himself to look as normal as possible before continuing in a whisper. "What do you mean you were infected??" Donnie rolled his eyes, "Oh relax Raph that's not now, it didn't happen in this timeline, so we're in the clear on that. But Casey informed me the Kraang had engineered a bioweapon that I happened to fall victim to." Casey nodded, "They used it to limit out food in hopes that we would start fighting among ourselves for resources and fall apart or starve to death. A few got infected, but they all died within maybe a month or two, Donnie managed to fight it for nearly three years... He was bigger and stronger than the others though when he got sick.." Donnie nodded and started doodling on his napkin, "Yeah apparently I was like, twice as tall as I am now, like, Raph sized- But the infection sucked the life outta me so I got really weak and thin, near the end I was at the point where I couldn't even walk without help. I used the last of my time writing code and all of my notes on how to keep things running. Which I don't know why my suture self didn't just log all his instructions as he went to make everything so much easier, it would have saved to much time to write everything as he was going to if anything happened that was unexpected or if he needed to be away doing who knows what, that things would still be taken care of. Whatever, it's in the futures past now, it doesn't really matter."

"Doesn't matter??? Donnie you basically got alien cancer!" Leo said flicking one of Usagi's fries at his head, "But I didn't in this timeline and that's what matters-" He said flinging the fry back at Leo. Usagi caught the fry before it hit Leo and set it on a napkin, "Lets not use the food as ammo and risk a food fight and getting kicked out." Leo and Donnie both huffed a little but listened, since he was right obviously. Leo latched onto Usagi looking up at him with his usual dramatic pout. Usagi just rolled his eyes and gave in, kissing his head, and letting out a little chuckle when Leo decided that was clearly not enough to keep him behaved. He leaned down giving him a quick kiss, not wanting to over do it in front of his family, "Now behave." He said in a whisper, "You can do that for me can't you~?" Leo huffed again and nodded, "Fiiiine" He said as he sat back in his seat, finishing his food as the conversation got more light hearted and they started talking about thinks like April finishing college this year and Casey starting a business with Donatello for his inventions and skills in coding. He was easily able to get a part time job doing coding and since he'd been trained by Donnie it was like doing first grade math to him so he was quickly offered better positions and it seemed to be going well for him. Leo couldn't help but think about Usagi's voice and kept getting distracted, once everyone was done Leo pulled out his phone and texted the group without Usagi.

Leon: Hey would you guys be down to like, go somewhere else? Like the movies? I know you guys wanted to see that new JJ movie and show Casey around, you don't have to but I figured I'd ask cause we're already out

Angelo: Ohmigosh we should!! The JJ movie looks soooo good!! Can we? Can we? Can we?

Raphie: I mean... I guess, if everyone really wants to it could be nice?

DonTron: Might as well, it'll give me a chance to try out a new feature on my headphones that filters out chatter and random noise.

Angelo: Awwww yiiisssss babey I can't wait

Leon: On another kinda related note, would you care if I wasn't there? I uh, kind of wanted to try some of those what ever its called, the practices Donnie made me do when I was in the med bay recovering the past few times? Physical therapy right? That's what it's called? Well, that- But- it just looks real stupid so maybe don't be in the lair while I do em okay-

Raphie: Oh so it was a trap to get us outta the house huh?

Leon: ...Is it working?

Raph sighed out loud and looked over to Leo with an unamused expression, while Leo had his signature shit eating grin. "Just- make sure you clean your room when you get home first got it?" Leo nodded and hailed a waitress over paying for the table and leaving a tip too before getting up and taking Usagi's hand and waving them off. "Oh are we going?" He asked, since he wasn't really aware of what happened over text. Leo nodded as he walked out leading Usagi towards his place, "I'm gonna be honest, and you can say no but you got me in a mood to make out and I really didn't wanna wait so I told everyone else to go see a movie cause we were gonna do some physical therapy stuff.."

"So you lied so we could be alone?" He asked with a little chuckle, Leo wrapped an arm around Usagi's waist as they walked, "Well physical therapy can be a lot of different things, who's to say exactly what I meant versus what they took it as y'know~?"

"Ohh, you sneaky little~ Fine, only for a little bit, you've only bought us about an hour or two so we'll need to be carful, and quiet" Leo nodded, "Yeah and I know dads gonna be out too, or at least dead asleep in his sound proofed room so he won't bother us~"

"In that case~ I have a little request~"

"Oh? What is it?" LRO Part 1 Part 6

8 notes · View notes

lailyn · 2 years ago

Text

More Than Tacos

“This thing is the size of Thor’s face.”

“Loki, please. Let’s not ruin our appetite.”

Loki dutifully pursed his lips. “I shall refrain from bringing my dear brother into every conversation.”

“Thank you.”

“Out of curiosity, what do you have against Thor anyway?” Loki asked.

“Absolutely nothing. It just isn’t the norm here on Earth to talk about somebody else when you’re on a date,” Stephen complained. “In fact, it’s downright rude.”

“So…I should just talk about you?”

“About yourself, if you please.”

Loki’s eyes followed the journey of the New York slice from the box to his boyfriend’s mouth. “Are you sure your attention isn’t elsewhere?”

“I can multitask. I’m great at multitasking,” Stephen mumbled through a mouthful of pizza. “Can’t go wrong with Joe’s Pizza."

"What a quaint name for such a revered establishment."

Stephen shrugged. "It's proud. It's unapologetic." He couldn’t resist adding, "Kinda like you."

"Oh?"

" ‘I am Loki’," Stephen mimicked, "And that's it. No pageant introduction, no elaborate oration of your lineage from the birth of the universe to the present time.”

"Yes. I don't prattle on like my brother, that's for sure," Loki said with a smile that fell short of reaching his eyes. "Everyone knows who I am."

Stephen set his half-eaten pizza slice down. "Oh, no. What have I said wrong?”

Taken aback, Loki could only stare at his companion blankly. “What?”

“You were making that face. Like you’ve eaten something sour when you were expecting something sweet.”

“You seem to be cognizant of all the subtleties of my facial expressions, Doctor.” Loki leaned forward, bringing their faces close enough for their breaths to kiss each other’s skin. “Should I be flattered? Or affronted?”

“You should be assured ,” Stephen said coolly. “There is no need to be anybody but yourself. Not when you’re with me. Your name doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Odinson? Laufeyson?” Stephen shook his head. “It’s not important who your parents are if they don’t know how to love you. You’re Loki. And that’s enough.”

“Is it?” Loki asked sadly.

"Uh-uh. Loki.” Stephen savoured the taste of Loki's name on his tongue and decided it was time to take another bite. "It's perfect. You make everything taste better.”

Loki could not help but chuckle; though rare, catching a glimpse of Stephen’s goofy side always made him laugh. “You’re going to get a stomachache, eating like that.”

“I'm a New Yorker. I'm used to eating rubbish."

"Are you sure you did not overexert yourself this morning?" Loki asked, trying not to sound too concerned. "You still look a bit knackered."

"I'm fine. Just hungry." Stephen swallowed after chewing just enough to keep from choking. "Fighting that demon took a lot out of both of us, not just me. Eat up, it's a crime to let pizza go cold."

Loki looked down at the half-and-half pizza. The meat lover's side looked too busy, so he picked up a slice of cheese pizza. Or tried to.

Stephen watched in amusement Loki's continuous struggle with the stubborn, stringy mozzarella. “It’s all about the ratio. Too much or too little of one thing and - "

“Let me guess. Your reality collapses?” Loki asked dryly.

“Something like that.” Stephen heaved a blissful sigh. “Look at it. Is there anything better than this?”

Loki's sigh, on the other hand, was one of forlorn longing. “I wish you would look at me like that.”

"Now you know how I feel everytime we go out for Mexican."

"Mexican food is the food of gods," Loki said flatly.

"No argument here." Stephen waited for Loki to take the first bite. "Good?"

Loki chewed slowly. “It’s a very clean flavour.”

“That's…one way of putting it, I guess.” Stephen tore off a piece of the crust and made sure it caught just enough of the cheese. “This is my favourite part right here, the perfect bite.”

Loki wiped the grease from his lips with a napkin and cleared his throat, but the burn of the salt remained. Like magic, their server appeared with two glasses of ice water with lemon slices.

"Thank you," Loki said graciously. Feeling a little friendly tonight, he struck up a conversation. “Where are you from?”

“Naples, Sir."

“Ah, Naples," Loki murmured with a hint of nostalgia. "A softer and fluffier crust is the way they do it over there. The tomatoes must be either San Marzano tomatoes or, another variant I forget the name of, they grow on the volcanic plains of Mount Vesuvius."

"Pomodorino del Piennolo del Vesuvio, Sir."

"That's the one." Loki gave the boy his most charming smile. "And get this. The mozzarella has to be buffalo mozzarella from Campania. It is absolutely to die for."

“Yeah? Never had pizza outside of New York so I wouldn’t know.”

The look of pure horror on Loki’s face was something to behold. “No. How many years have you lived and wasted not knowing?"

Stephen let out a soft chuckle. "Don't feel sorry for me, Loki. I'm a simple guy. I'm happy with what I've got."

"I've decided," Loki announced. "We are going to Italy for our honeymoon."

Stephen sputtered, and coughed, and spluttered till tears came out his nose -

"We went to all that trouble pretending to be married," Loki pointed out. "We might as well be married."

"Loki, that was just a ruse we cooked up to gain access into the adoption agency," Stephen said, his heart pounding against his ribcage. In panic? Fear? Elation? Who the hell knew.

"Yes, and we saved all those beautiful children from being eaten by that horrible, smelly demon." Loki sniffed. "It smelled like Thor's armpits."

Stephen was still at a loss for words. "Thor's…"

"I will have to teach you what to do should you come within the vicinity of Thor's underarms, since you will be seeing each other more often," Loki rambled, "We're a package you see, my brother and I - "

"Loki." Stephen reached across the table and grabbed Loki's hand. "Did you just propose to me?"

"I did, didn't I?" Loki said brightly. "Odinson. Laufeyson. I am neither."

"Loki…"

"Let me finish." Loki drew in a ragged breath. "I am my whole self - my best self - when I am with you."

Date nights, if Stephen was the one arranging them were nothing but schematic, thematic and dramatic…like a beautiful story.

It had started with a delightful aperitif shared on the Sanctum's rooftop, an exquisite artisan vermouth cocktail Stephen had sourced straight from Turin. It was followed soon after by a jaunt to a quiet, cosy family pizzeria for some decadent, delicious pizza. So it was to be expected that one must end the story with something delightful and so very sweet...a proposal.

"Oh, Loki." Stephen beamed through eyes brimming with happy tears. "You are so…"

Loki could hardly breathe. "Yes?"

Stephen threw himself across the table, sending pizza boxes flying and glasses tumbling onto the floor. He seized Loki's mouth with his lips, Loki's face with his hands, greasy fingers be damned -

"You are so, so loved."

"I love you too, I'm afraid," Loki admitted.

"More than tacos?"

Loki nodded, spraying tears everywhere. "More than tacos."

"Damn you, Loki." Stephen thumped their foreheads together. "I don't even have the ring on me, I gave it to Wong for safekeeping."

Loki's heart swelled to twice its size. "Ring?"

Stephen nodded. "Your brother helped me pick one out."

"Thor did?" Loki blinked in surprise. "Must be hideous. Oh dear."

"It's quite nice, actually. Totally your style."

"No, I…well. I did not come prepared," Loki said sheepishly. "Midgardian courting custom requires that I stake my claim on you with some form of jewellery and it completely slipped my mind."

"I don't need trinkets." Stephen gazed into Loki's eyes; they were much more mesmerising than any jewel he had seen, on this earth or off it. "Just you. And gelato."

“Gelato?”

Stephen turned around. “Two scoops of vanilla, please. Actually you know what? I’ll have an affogato.”

Having been caught staring, the server fumbled and made a show of straightening the flyers and the napkin on the counter. “Two shots or one, Sir?”

“What the hell, make it a double.”

"Are you alright, Stephen?" Now Loki was genuinely concerned.

Stephen could hardly contain his excitement. “I’m not letting you sleep tonight, Loki."

Indeed, they stayed up most of the night, Stephen with a terrible bellyache as predicted, Loki with the enviable task of rubbing it better.

But seeing the ring on Loki's finger, gleaming with the promise of shared adventures and many, many more cosy nights together, made it all worth it.

#strangefrost #doctor strange #loki #fic #fluff #love and fine dining

8 notes · View notes

restorativemeal · 1 year ago

Text

Menu Seventeen

Menu Seventeen from Rowan Bishop and Sue Carruthers' "The Vegetarian Adventure Cookbook".

Spicy Pumpkin and Lentil Soup: brown lentils, water, cumin, tumeric, coriander, butter, onion, pumpkin, salt, vegetable stock, tomato relish, pepper.

Celery and Orange Salad: celery, orange, lemon juice, olive oil, balsamic vinegar.

Corn Bread: plain flour, baking powder, salt, wheatgerm, semolina, egg, milk, butter.

Spinach Frittata: spinach, onion, butter, dried basil, nutmeg, egg, sour cream, milk, salt, pepper, chilli sauce, tasty cheddar cheese.

Menu Seventeen, Week Seventeen, I write about it now in a state of purgatory, a liminal space, during a three week break from Bishop and Carruthers and their Vegetarian Adventure Cookbook. The weather was hot, dry even, it was Summer at home. It had been two weeks of warm soup, only this time I didn’t want it. I had passed my sickness on to my flatmate and guest, a singular person. I was thinking a lot about change, as usual. Not violent change, that I’ve learnt are done to you, but the changes you make yourself. The ones that take you out of a city, a country even. This had nothing to do with the fact I was travelling to Japan at the end of Week Seventeen.

The schedule that week was busy, I couldn’t really afford to dedicate it to the journey, but I did anyway. I left the prior week believing I wanted to move somewhere else during the next year and that I wanted to leave this Vegetarian Adventure Cookbook where it belonged, in New Zealand. Because of this, Week Seventeen and Menu Seventeen needed to be completed that week. I had most of the ingredients at home. I went to the Fruit and Vegetable store on Tuesday after a troubling Monday, it was hot and I wished people would turn off their read receipts. I returned home feeling worse, I had spent $38 on four items in a store I believed was always the cheapest option. I wondered if I had been swindled, this was my comeuppance for swindling the lady at the other fruitstore for the $3.99 watermelon back during my birthday week. It wasn’t even the same store. I said “no” when the girl at the till asked whether I wanted a receipt, was she taunting me? I’ll never have the answer to what happened, and that seems to be the way about a lot of things. I was still positive about the way that change could be something you did to yourself. I would cook the pumpkin and lentils and I would change them into a soup. Whether or not I wanted to eat it. I would leave the country one day and maybe I would never return.

Soup and salad prep, half a pumpkin that cost $25?

It was another easy menu to make. I had all afternoon. It was hot. I wore a pair of mini shorts and a top that had “alcoholic” written across the chest then proceeded to not drink a thing. I started with the soup, first boiling the lentils, then the pumpkin. The state of the flat oven meant I needed to prepare and bake the Corn Bread and Spinach Frittata at the same time. I had a brand new guest that night, from another city even. I had quite a few guests in total that night. Before anyone arrived I sat on the floor of the kitchen listening to personal-to-me version of “Last Christmas”. There were four days till Christmas and dinner was ready. Later I would fail as a host as I served too early, forgetting the last one was coming.

Frittata and Corn Bread

As we ate, we discussed how the Corn Bread tasted like banana cake without bananas. Really, it was corn bread without any corn, because I had substituted semolina for the cornmeal that Bishop and Carruthers had listed in the ingredients. The following night I declared at work drinks that this had been the worst year of my life. A week later, I was in Tokyo, homesick for something I couldn’t put my finger on. Maybe the “Vegetarian Adventure Cookbook”. Two weeks after that, I returned home. It was a new year. The “Vegetarian Adventure Cookbook” wasn’t where I left it and I panicked that it would be another thing lost in the year before. Five minutes later I found it, hidden behind the mirror on the mantelpiece in the dining room, the last violent change of the year before.

2023, finale.

#vegetarian #home cooking #self discovery #artwork

0 notes

tingslisbon · 2 years ago

Link

#Graça #Recipes #TingsRecipes

0 notes

lgcsori · 5 months ago

Text

lgcxsofi

sofia playfully scoffs at the accusation, wiping her hands on her apron. she knew she wasn’t the best cook — or even an okay one — but taking the fall for this mishap was something her ego couldn’t let slide. "well, if i did, it’s your fault for distracting me with all your questions," she teases lightly-heartedly, gently elbowing the other. reaching for a spoon, she leans in to get a better look. "hmm,” she pursed her lips, gently fishing the salt lid out of the dish. “okay someone did put a little too much salt, but it’s nothing we can’t fix! we’ll just have to balance it out with a bit more of... mm maybe some lemon or .. tomato sauce? back home we always had tomato sauce dishes since my dad had a heavy hand." a smile tugged at the corner of her lips at the fond memory, turning on her heels to offer sori a playful grin. "aaand if all else fails we can always feed it to one of the boys? think i know a few that would eat just about anything?” she rinsed the salt spoon before diving back into the dish to try and scrape as much salt from the bubbling surface as she could. as it it’d help now. “as for us trainees .. you know how it is. i’m just trying to keep up with everyone else. I swear it feels like the hunger games most days ... minus the death." she jokes, setting the metal spoon down with a clack, "but really, things are fine. maybe a lil’ quieter without you around, though." sofia leans against the counter, crossing her arms with a more serious look. "how about you, miss big shot? you miss it at all? being a trainee, i mean."

sori is actually a really great cook. she used to help in her mother’s restaurant, and then when she moved to live with her dad, she’d make them dinner, him often too busy for such thing. since becoming a trainee at legacy, she hasn’t had as much time for that, but she still enjoys cooking, and she attempts to do it whenever she has time. “eh? my fault for distracting you?” she shakes her head, well knowing it actually was her fault, “a good chef is able to multitask!” she teases back. she shakes her head “where did you learn to cook? lemon won’t make it less salty, we need more water or some sort of sweetener, like sugar or honey” she turns to look at the other “how often do you cook?”.

“boys are crazy” she shakes her head “i know a few guys who would also eat anything, even if it’s too salty or has been dropped on the floor… i’m not picky, but i also won’t eat disgusting things, y’know?”.

“not the least, to be honest” she chuckles, “did not like being a trainee, it felt like a long survival show where i was battling for debut, being an idol is definitely better than a trainee, like you said, sometimes it feels like being in hunger games out there” a short laugh escapes her lips. “what are your plans though? are you gonna stay on the trainee path till you debut or have you considered switching over to acting or modeling?”.

#it's been put in...→ queue #lgcsori #on the menu? kinda salty #today's partner? sofia #lgcxsofi #today you got... thread

5 notes · View notes

landothemuppet · 4 years ago

Text

Far Longer Than Forever (p.p)

Word count: 4737

Pairing : peter parker

Request: YES! ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. The Swan Princess is one of my childhood movie and this was so fun to write. I can’t stop listenning the soundtrack now ! I’m so sorry for the time i took to write this, i had so much work to do with school. But it’s over now and i hope you will like this !

N/A: First, gif not mine but i don’t know who i’m gonna credit on this, i have no clue...This is my first Peter Parker x reader and i hope you all will like it! As always, I remind you that English is not my native language. Don’t hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Like, reblogs to support. You can Love you all! xx

Taglist: @angeliquekalampoka @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cedricdiggorysimpp - if you want to be notified of all my future writings you can add yourself in my taglist : here

______

As far as you can remember, you've always hated summer. Well, it was partly a lie. You loved the sweltering heat of Queens, the cherry popsicles from Delmar's, not having to worry about what time you had to get up. You liked it but hated the idea of the last two weeks of August.

This year was no exception. You looked at your half-finished suitcase, a grimace on your face. August still meant the same thing, the same routine: having to spend the last three weeks of his vacation with Peter Parker.

summer 2009

Peter Parker had lost his parents very early on, two years ago. He had lived since then with his aunt May and his uncle Ben. It was your mother's idea to introduce you to each other. Aunt May and your mom were friends from college and luckily, they lived in the same neighborhood. Your first meeting with the one who, many years later, would become Spider-Man, took place on his eighth birthday. You were invited to the party when you weren't even at the same school. Aunt May had simply shared his fears about Peter's difficulty making friends after the trauma he had experienced. Your mother, as the perfect friend that she was, had suggested that Peter and you spend time together.

There were 3 kids in total at that birthday party, you, Peter - obviously - and a boy from his school whose mother had forced him to be there, too. It was a fact; you were the only girl and you didn't know Peter at all. Your mother walked up to you, got up to your eye level and whispered

"Can you be nice? May told me she invited Peter's whole class and only this boy came"

You wanted to please your mother so you nodded before approaching the two boys. Peter and his friend were in the corner of the room, their backs turned to the adults. When you tapping the young boy on the shoulder to make you notice by him, he turned to you with a guilty expression. He had buttercream all over the corner of his mouth and he was holding a cupcake in his hand that looked delicious.

“My Aunt May tried to bake a cake, but Uncle Ben bought some cupcakes in anticipation. Do you want one?” Peter asked you in a friendly voice

“Why? Is May's cake not good?

“Uncle Ben says that she is not very good at cooking.”

You let out a little laugh and nodded your head before grabbing the cupcake with a smile. You thanked him and began to taste the little pastry with envy. It was so good! The buttercream was lemony, the cupcake was slightly lemony too but there was a taste you couldn't recognize. You were almost sure you had tasted it before, but you couldn't tell what it was. Peter and the other boy suggested that you go to Peter's room. He wanted to show you the LEGO set his uncle Ben had given him ahead of time and you followed them even though you weren't more excited about the idea.

And you were right. For several minutes, you were pushed aside while the two young boys spoke spiritedly. You complained several times that you wanted to do something else but Peter didn't seem to listen to you, too excited to finally be able to chat with someone who appreciated Star Wars as much as he did.

So you were annoyed and slightly angry with Peter but what broke the camel's back is that you started to not feel so good. Your throat was itching and you felt like your tongue was taking up a lot more space in your mouth, getting drier. Peter gave you a distracted look before his eyes widened. He let go of everything he had in his hands before running to his aunt.

"Aunt May, Aunt May! Y/N's tongue looks like a big, desiccated steak!"

"Peter, don't be rude!" she exclaimed, shocked by her nephew’s words

"No, no come see, she has a huge tongue! I think something is wrong"

Meanwhile, you ran into the bathroom at Peter's reaction. You weren't sure why he had looked at you like that, but you felt that a few things were wrong. In addition, you were more and more thirsty, your eyes also hurt. And that's when you saw your reflection. You were puffy, your tongue had tripled in size, hence this feeling of dryness and discomfort. It was the same with your throat. You started to cry and when May called you through the bathroom door, you fervently opened it.

May and your mother's expression of horror was instantaneous and your mother knew exactly what was causing your condition.

"What did she eat?"

"Nothing..." he tried to escape from being grounded

"Peter, this is very important. What did you eat?"

"We just ate the cupcakes Uncle Ben brought back"

Ben looked at May with guilty eyes. May had put so much effort into Peter's birthday cake and she felt hurt that they had bought some pastries in anticipation. Your mother was impatiently stamping her foot. It was important to know exactly what you had eaten and above all, you shouldn't waste any more time. Peter felt completely helpless. He had only given a cupcake to his guest, that’s all. What was wrong with giving someone a cupcake?

"What were those cupcakes flavor?" your mother said impatiently ...

"With lemon and almonds." he said in a very small voice.

You were panicked. And the eight-year-old that you were was not coping well with stress. Plus, your feeling of being sidelined by Peter and his friend made you feel even worse. So you frowned. You couldn't see a thing but you could feel the torrent of tears escaping your cheeks. You pointed at Peter with rage

"You tried to kill me !!!" you said somehow with your tongue as big as a little tangerine.

"It's not true!"

"Yes! You are a murderer"

And you cried even more before your mother takes you to the emergency room as quickly as possible, apologizing for the scene.

The week later, May forced Peter to apologize for giving you a cupcake, while justifying that he didn't know about your allergy. Your mother forced you to apologize for insulting Peter "a murderer" and accept his apologies.

But you spent the rest of the vacation arguing with the little guy. After all, you didn't want to be friends with a murderer.

Summer 2013

Aunt May and your mom didn't let go, however, and every summer you spent three damn weeks with Peter. The summer of your twelve years, you did not thus escape this eternal masquerade but this year, the tide had turned in your favor.

From the start, you never liked Star Wars. It really wasn't your world. You had always preferred Harry Potter and although Peter had read the books and enjoyed them - which he would never admit to you as that would amount to listing the commonalities you had - he was much more invested in the galactic universe. But on that day, Peter had particularly bothered you. He had first replaced the sugar in your hot chocolate with salt. He kept chanting silly nursery rhymes about you and the downstairs neighbor, insinuating that you were in love: which was not the case. Yes, Peter had been extremely annoying. This time Peter was getting on your nerds by bouncing a small ball against the ceiling as you tried to read your book. Uncle Ben was in the living room watching the sport - you weren't sure exactly which one since it didn't matter to you - so you couldn't go anywhere else to be quiet.

"Peter, stop it."

"Stop what?" he asked by bouncing the ball once more off his ceiling. You could even make out the smirk on his lips.

"That. Stop it! I can't read."

"This is nothing new."

You threw him the first thing you found on his desk, c.e, a banana, which he easily dodged. You groaned in frustration. May and your mother didn't understand when you talked about Peter's attitude towards you. He was a calm child, far too shy at school and interested in everything, especially science. He was looking forward to entering Midletown High School in two years. You hated that nerd side about him. Secretly, you were a little jealous of him for being the smartest in the room.

“I'm gonna hit you so hard you won't know your name anymore”

“ try me, dumbass.”

A few minutes later, he had finally stopped throwing that damn ball, but obviously Peter's boredom was driving him to find everything the most boring thing than the previous one to drive you crazy. This time, he had simply taken his favorite lightsaber - because he had several - and he was poking your shoulder to get your attention.

"Parker, stop!"

"Don't you want to drop this book and watch a movie?"

"What do you want to watch? Star Wars? No thanks ..."

"Oh come on, Y / N! I'm sure you'll like it!"

He patted you on the shoulder once more with his lightsaber.

"Do you want to play this, Parker?" you said before grabbing one of his other lightsabers

"What are you going to do? I'm sure you don't know how to fight with" he mocked.

You have lit the glowing plastic stick and you are placed in the guard position.

"Do you want to bet, knothead?"

He smiled at you and attacked you first. Strangely, this is what most resembled a moment of bond between Peter and you and deep down, you appreciate it. But you also appreciate that possibility of kicking his ass after he's been so irritating. You responded to his lightsaber attacks with ease and joy. It was playful, childish, but it was one of the few times you had fun with Peter. And you really appreciate it. Your two laughs mingled, echoing in the room.

But suddenly, as you were trying to dodge an attack from the brunet, your elbow made contact with his face. Peter's muffled cry of pain echoed and you froze. He was holding his nose with a grimace and when he took his hand away you both noticed in horror that he was bleeding.

"Fuck…"

"Pete..." you started talking

"You blew my nose!" Peter shouted

"I did not do it on purpose!" you defended yourself.

"Of course, you do! You fucking blew my nose!"

"Peter, I swear ..."

But Peter interrupted you by rushing out of his bedroom looking for his aunt who was in the office as she tried to file the important papers, that Ben and her had received this week. You were livid. First, because you didn't mean to hurt Peter on purpose. Second, you couldn't stand the sight of blood and it was literally everywhere. Peter was leaving trails of droplets on the floor of the apartment.

"Aunt May?!? Y/N blew my nose! Damn, I'm bleeding!"

After a brief stint in the ER, the rest of the stay was peaceful as you and Peter avoided each other until the end of the summer.

Summer 2017

Peter was not the Peter you had always known.

Since the death of his uncle Ben, the young man had closed in on himself and was even further away. Always so intelligent and discreet but much more distant. He had stopped teasing you or doing things that got on your nerves. He was minding his own business. And even though you had tried to be there for him, not denying him any of the offers he made to you during your stay ... you found him really ... overwhelmed. Which was still understandable.

But this year was worse than the last. May told your mother that last year Peter got an internship at Stark Industry and attended a seminar in Germany but came back with a black eye. He had been acting most weirdly ever more since then. And you could have witnessed it. In the afternoon, when you were busy, and when it was too hot, when you tried to rest, Peter would disappear for hours. When you caught him sneaking back several times, he made you promise not to tell Aunt May.

And you were starting to have theories about his nighttime getaways. After all, you were 16 and you too had started dating a few boys. But it never really worked. who knows why?! And when you wondered if Peter had a girlfriend, and who she was - he had to have one in view of all his sneaking out - your stomach twisted in a strange feeling. You didn't understand why the thought of Peter having a girlfriend bothered you so much. Over time, you had learned to be friends. It still happened sometimes that you quarreled but the events of the life made you grow up. Your parents had divorced, Peter had lost his uncle. You could tell yourself that you both had grown.

And it was one night when Peter was sneaking back in again that you discovered two secrets.

The first one: He was Spider-Man.

It was around midnight when you heard the sound of the window opening. Since your childhood and this Machiavellian plan of your mother and Aunt May, you had always slept in Peter's room during holiday and more recently in his bed. The noise alerted you and you got up in a sitting position. But the only thing you saw was a foot, placed on this said window, closing it gently. How the hell was that possible?

You were ready to scream but your gut told you to look up at the ceiling. A figure hung on it and you were paralyzed. Were you having one of those weird experiences called sleep paralysis? Delicately, silently, you grabbed the first blunt object within reach. A chemistry book that Peter seemed particularly fond of. The figure stepped on the ceiling as you were paralyzed. The form turned to land on the ground and then stood up, still with its back to you. You got up gently from Peter's bed and walked over. The man in the suit whose color you couldn't see took off his mask and you hit the air in an attempt to shoot him down. Peter turned around so quickly and blocked your gesture easily, like a reflex.

"What the ..."

"Bloody hell".

You both said at the same time. Your big surprised eyes mirrored Peter's. The curly man let go of your hand with an apologetic expression as you walked away from your friend. You turned on the bedside lamp before you discovered his blue and red costume. A very recognizable costume since it was that of Spider-Man. You winced, a look of judgment and incomprehension on your face. Not bothering to look at his face covered with bruises and traces of blood.

"What the ... are you sneaking out to go to a costume party?"

"What?! No…No Y/N I’m…”

“Spider-Man? Great costume by the way” you joked.

For a moment, you completely forgot that you just saw your friend glued upside down to the ceiling. Peter looked at you a little jaded, by the tone of your voice your guess was far from a sincere question but more of a mockery. And right now, the young man needed to be honest with you. He needed you.

"But, I am."

"Yeah that's it. And I slept with the Winter Soldier. You can't imagine what he can do with his metal arm."

Peter cut you off by pulling a web with his web shooter, tying your hands. The feel of the canvas was unpleasant, sticky but above all resistant. You let out a little cry of surprise, not powerful enough to pass the walls of Peter's room. Your eyes looked like two big golf balls, realizing that your friend was telling the truth.

"Omg, You're Spider-Man" you almost spoke too loud.

"Yes and don't make me web your mouth. May doesn't have to know"

"damn, peter. What happened to your face!"

“yeah about that…I need you Y/N, please…”

And without warning, Peter squeezed the spider in the middle of his costume, at chest level. He winced at the action revealing his bruised chest. He staggered a bit from the action, unsure of his legs and the pain in his sides fierce. You might see several bruises and cuts on your friend's body. You were having difficulty swallowing before you told him you were going to the bathroom to get what you needed. Before leaving the room, he made you promise to be discreet and not tell May anything if she ran into you. When you walk back into Peter's room, he's sitting half-lying on his bed, grimacing. You sit next to him, your heart pounding. You never noticed that he was so built. After all, as a superhero, he had to keep fit. But you couldn't deny that it intimidated you. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment and a desire you never knew before. He had his eyes closed, as if trying to make the pain go away. And there, looking at him, you found him pretty. he was so cute that you couldn't help but run your hand through his curls to signal your presence and soothe him a bit. But Peter already knew you were there. He had heard your footsteps, he had smelled your scent, a sweet scent he had grown used to in his later years. He sighed softly, more relaxed. You started to clean the few shallow wounds.

"Does it hurt?" you asked quietly

"Mhmm no, not really."

"Did you win?"

"Ouch..No. Not tonight."

"Sorry." you said more for your gesture rather than the fact that he didn't win the fight against the bad guys.

"No, it's perfect ... it's just a little sensitive"

You smiled but something was wrong. A feeling you've never felt before. You've finished cleaning up Peter's wounds, but your gaze has darkened. As you were about to get up, the brunette gently grabbed your wrist to hold you back. He could hear your calm breathing and yet your heart was racing. He could feel the heat on your cheeks. He too felt that the tension was at its height. Your mind was muddled, he didn't know why, he wasn't a telepath, but he could see it, feel it. Your body betrayed your mind.

"Y/N, what is it?"

"I..I don't know." you lied.

"You can tell me everything."

"I ... Well…Seeing you like this ... makes me ... makes me realize that I ... I'm afraid of losing you."

"You won't lose me ... I promise"

You are ashamed of your vulnerable state. How did you go from hating this boy to having an overwhelming fear of losing him? You looked at those chocolate eyes in confusion and distress. You were now fully aware that the little neighborhood spider was none other than your childhood friend. The one you once loved to hate, tease, fight with over trivia. He was also on the youtube videos, who stopped cars with his bare hands.

“Y/N… you won’t lose me, I promise.”

Peter dared to walk slowly towards you and in a surge of courage, one of his hands circled your burning cheek, his lips rested on yours. The brunette had always had a crush on you without actually admitting it. After all, you had known each other since you were children but... your relationship had been rather confrontational. But for two years now, everything had changed for him. He appreciated more and more your little arguments, your teasing. His thoughts would sometimes turn darker when you lick your lips or when your fingers scratched that point behind your ear, when you were a little stressed.

Your lips moved between them in a harmonious dance and you were now clinging desperately to Peter's slightly sweaty brown curls. Your heart was pounding at a speed close to the point of no return, reluctant to stop suddenly in the face of this overstimulation. But all good things came to an end and you slowly walked away. You bit your lip to get the taste of Peter's back. Your mind wandered, lost in the haze of rushing feelings.

"You..you should rest ..."

You ended up pulling away, swallowing hard. That night you didn't sleep. You have studied every facial feature of Peter, thinking of every event since your friendship. The next day, you fooled that nothing had happened. Too scared of what that kiss meant to you.

Summer 2025

It all happened so quickly. After that summer, the summer of your kiss, you promised yourself that you understood your feelings towards Peter. You weren't going to the same high school and even though you were both on social media, you never dared to contact him. You needed time.

But you haven't had this time. Peter became full-time Spider-Man and then the aliens came to earth, again. The threat of Thanos hovered and within moments, days, hours ... you were gone under his snap.

When you returned to your childhood apartment, you were alone. Well, alone in front of the family who lived in this place now. The man in his forties simply believed you were a drug-hunting teenager squatter. Five damn years had passed. 5 years where your mother had a new life when you had been eclipsed. You were distraught, alone and it was by happy coincidence that you found May at the F.E.A.S.T project. It was a relief for you to find a familiar face again. She had suggested that you come and live in her new temporary apartment, allowing you to finish high school without having to move to the other end of the United States, with your mother. You declined your offer. You wanted to fend for yourself. And surprisingly, you did pretty well.

To be exact, Mr. Delmar was looking for a student to work in his store and was kind enough to greet you in the bedroom of one of his daughters who had gone to college. By the greatest of luck, you've never seen Peter. Or rather, you managed to avoid it for an entire year. You had caught a glimpse of him one day, trying to speak Italian to get a travel adapter and a dual headphone adapter. Did you feel foolish thinking that after so long - could we consider those 5 years to be 5 concrete years? - would it still focus on the kiss you shared? After all, you got away from him after that. And then, everything went in a state of madness.

Every time you turned on the television, you learned that elemental monsters had attacked a different country. They had first started with Mexico and then moved to Europe. Italy, Prague and then London. A certain Mysterio seemed to be taking care of this matter, but you couldn't help but think of Peter. May told you he was supposed to go to Italy. In fact, every time she went to Delmar's for a sandwich, she gave you an update on her nephew's trip. But it wasn't the craziest.

Upon his return ... Spider-man's identity was revealed. You had watched in horror the video of Mysterio, which appeared on the Daily Buggle newspaper, accusing Peter of wanting to be the new Iron-Man. You were listening to J. Jonah Jameson falsely accusing Peter of being a murderer. You knew Peter, and there was no way he had done such an act. The video was bogus, you were sure. When you tried to reconnect that summer, you noticed Peter's girlfriend. Michelle Jones and ... and that's what kept you from approaching him. He was already supported. He had his best friend, Ned. His girlfriend, MJ. And he had May. It was enough, wasn't it?

It was the following year, after a new incredible adventure that you met again.

You worked at the store in the evening. Mr Delmar had asked you to help him out urgently because his youngest daughter had a health problem. You accepted with pleasure. You had offered to babysit his daughter but the loving father he was wanted to be with her. And it was precisely this evening that a thug decided to steal the fund from you.

You were at gunpoint with your hands up in the air when you saw a red and black mass fall behind the thug.

"Hey buddy, I think the bank is across the street"

Spider-Man tapped the thief on the shoulder and dodged a punch.

"But I think I'll arrest you anyway if you went to the bank. You don't seem like a nice guy." Peter joked.

You were paralyzed as your friend, your best friend if you were honest, chained or avoided them with agility. You swallowed hard, unable to move or run away. A gunshot rang out and you smelled a scared little vintage. Peter squeezed the barrel of the gun in his hand, deviating from his course. It made sense now to say that he had simply defended himself against the assault. After a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, Peter stared the offender against a fridge door, immobilizing him. He then turned to you, oblivious to your identity at the time.

"Are you okay there?"

"Peter!"

You didn't give him the chance to realize and you rushed into his arms, hugging him so tight to feel the comfort of his body against yours.

"Uh, yeah, you're welcome. Cuddles are nice but ..."

He paused for a moment and his automated eyes widened. He knew his perfume. The flowery, sweet scents that he had missed so much. Is this possible?

"Y/N?"

You let go of him and immediately put his mask back on. Adrenaline was controlling your actions and god damn it, you needed that touch. You kissed him, bluntly. Your lips crushed against his in impatience, in ardor, but too bad. You needed to feel it against you, to regain the feeling that you had felt, years ago. After a few seconds, you felt Peter's hands encircle your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your heart was exploding, the ardor was present in your kiss. You were even frustrated that you couldn't grab her brown curls with full hands, settling for only the base of her hair. You let out a moan before pulling away abruptly. He had a girlfriend.

"I… I'm sorry. I… Sorry, I didn't mean�� MJ… and… please don't blame me."

Peter silenced you with another kiss, shorter this time but so good.

“There is no MJ .... Just you and me ... Far Longer Than Forever”

You looked at him hopefully and then burst out laughing after his words.

"I didn't know you were so romantic, Parker"

"Shut your mouth."

"Make me"

"You are impossible."

"But obviously, you like"

He was going to say something to nag you, he was looking for it but you caught him off guard, placing your lips on his again. You could feel his smile in the kiss and you couldn't help but do the same. Anyone living in the neighborhood present in the street would have a view of Spider-Man kissing the student cashier from Delmar. But you couldn't care less. You had waited too long and the joy you were feeling now was so intense, you didn't want to stop feeling this. It is reluctantly that Peter moved away from you apologizing for the fact that he had to go on patrol again.

"Go save the Spider-Man neighborhood"

"Only if you promise me you'll be there when I get back."

"I was thinking of going to say goodnight to May instead ... But if you want, I have a sleeping bag in the storeroom."

"You are incorrigible .... See you later ..."

"See you later."

You smiled, in a misty state of bliss as Peter disappeared from view. This time, you weren't planning to escape, you wanted to fall into the webs of Peter Parker. You closed the store after the police visit and headed to May's flat. It was late but with her kindness she welcomed you with open arms.

This summer ... was the best in years but the others to come were going to be even more wonderful.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #tom holland #tom holland fic

126 notes · View notes

istumpysk · 3 years ago

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ACOK: Catelyn II (Chapter 22)

She woke aching and alone and weary; weary of riding, weary of hurting, weary of duty. I want to weep, she thought. I want to be comforted. I'm so tired of being strong. I want to be foolish and frightened for once. Just for a small while, that's all . . . a day . . . an hour . . .

Nooo! Stop this madness! Don’t you realize you won’t know rest until your tears reach the Vale of Arryn?

+.+

Her son had looked at her unhappily. "There is no one else. I cannot go myself. Your father's too ill. The Blackfish is my eyes and ears, I dare not lose him. Your brother I need to hold Riverrun when we march—"

(...)

"I said nothing of Harrenhal," Robb said. "Now, will you go to Renly for me, or must I send the Greatjon?"

The memory brought a wan smile to her face. Such an obvious ploy, that, yet deft for a boy of fifteen. Robb knew how ill-suited a man like Greatjon Umber would be to treat with a man like Renly Baratheon, and he knew that she knew it as well. What could she do but accede, praying that her father would live until her return?

Say whatever you want about Hoster Tully, sending her across the continent while her father is on his deathbed is super cold.

Also, please take note of the fact that a king couldn’t possibly get up and leave his army in the middle of a war to go treat with another king. Ahem.

+.+

"A tourney," Hal Mollen declared. He had a penchant for loudly announcing the obvious.

(...)

Another man was fallen, trapped beneath his injured horse, both of them screaming in pain. Squires rushed out to aid them.

Wow that’s crazy, I didn’t expect to see Harry Hardyng competing.

+.+

This is madness, Catelyn thought. Real enemies on every side and half the realm in flames, and Renly sits here playing at war like a boy with his first wooden sword.

Oh Catelyn, you’re entirely too smart to not realize he’s biding his time, waiting for Tywin and Robb to eat each other.

Remember, when there are no battles to fight, men start to think of hearth and harvest. He has to keep them entertained somehow.

+.+

In their midst, watching and laughing with his young queen by his side, sat a ghost in a golden crown.

Small wonder the lords gather around him with such fervor, she thought, he is Robert come again.

This might be the most blatant foreshadowing I’ve ever seen.

+.+

The white horse and the black one wheeled like lovers at a harvest dance, the riders throwing steel in place of kisses.

Pffftbwahahahahaha

+.+

"When I take King's Landing, I'll send you Cersei's head."

And will that bring my Ned back to me? she thought.

You notice how of all the Starklings, it’s Catelyn who is the least hungry for vengeance? :(

+.+

Tell me, when does your son mean to march against Harrenhal?"

(...)

"So long as he leaves a few Lannisters for me, I'll not complain. What has he done with the Kingslayer?"

Lol, who are you kidding right now?

+.+

The steel was polished to such a high sheen that she could see her reflection in the breastplate, gazing back at her as if from the bottom of a deep green pond. The face of a drowned woman, Catelyn thought. Can you drown in grief?

+.+

Of food there was plenty. The war had not touched the fabled bounty of Highgarden. While singers sang and tumblers tumbled, they began with pears poached in wine, and went on to tiny savory fish rolled in salt and cooked crisp, and capons stuffed with onions and mushrooms. There were great loaves of brown bread, mounds of turnips and sweetcorn and pease, immense hams and roast geese and trenchers dripping full of venison stewed with beer and barley. For the sweet, Lord Caswell's servants brought down trays of pastries from his castle kitchens, cream swans and spun-sugar unicorns, lemon cakes in the shape of roses, spiced honey biscuits and blackberry tarts, apple crisps and wheels of buttery cheese.

Renly Baratheon is currently blocking the supply of food to King’s Landing.

+.+

The rich foods made Catelyn queasy

It should.

+.+

Out in the field, another man lost his seat to the knight in the rainbow-striped cloak, and the king shouted approval with the rest. "Loras!" she heard him call. "Loras! Highgarden!"

He was indeed as comely as Catelyn had suspected he might be. When not glazed, his eyes were lively and intelligent, his hair an artless tumble of brown locks that many a maid might have envied.

From time to time, King Renly would feed Margaery some choice morsel off the point of his dagger, or lean over to plant the lightest of kisses on her cheek, but it was Ser Loras who shared most of his jests and confidences.

Catelyn’s radar is pinging.

+.+

The height of folly was reached when a plump fool came capering out in gold-painted tin with a cloth lion's head, and chased a dwarf around the tables, whacking him over the head with a bladder. Finally King Renly demanded to know why he was beating his brother. "Why, Your Grace, I'm the Kinslayer," the fool said.

"It's Kingslayer, fool of a fool," Renly said, and the hall rang with laughter.

I find this so confusing. Clever misdirection?

Jaime’s beating on Tyrion, and calling himself a kinslayer, but take a good long look at the word bladder.

+.+

"Because it will not last," Catelyn answered, sadly. "Because they are the knights of summer, and winter is coming."

"Lady Catelyn, you are wrong." Brienne regarded her with eyes as blue as her armor. "Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it's always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining."

Winter comes for all of us, Catelyn thought. For me, it came when Ned died. It will come for you too, child, and sooner than you like. She did not have the heart to say it.

My sweet Brienne, you remind me so much of someone.

She heard it as she had never heard it before, and there were other sounds as well, grunts of pain, angry curses, shouts for help, and the moans of wounded and dying men. In the songs, the knights never screamed nor begged for mercy. - Sansa IV, AGOT

Winter is definitely coming for you Brienne, and it’s holding a crown.

+.+

I'm told he left King's Landing vowing to take up service with the true king. That cloak Brienne claimed today was the one I was keeping for Selmy, in hopes that he might offer me his sword.

We must never forget Barristan Selmy is a gigantic loser, who was ready to serve true king Viserys Targaryen like a little bitch boy.

+.+

"Ned refused you." She did not have to be told.

"He had sworn to protect Robert's children," Renly said. "I lacked the strength to act alone, so when Lord Eddard turned me away, I had no choice but to flee. Had I stayed, I knew the queen would see to it that I did not long outlive my brother."

Had you stayed, and lent your support to Ned, he might still be alive, Catelyn thought bitterly.

Trust me Catelyn, I was there, you can’t blame Renly for anything.

+.+

"I have twice that number here," Renly said, "and this is only part of my strength. Mace Tyrell remains at Highgarden with another ten thousand, I have a strong garrison holding Storm's End, and soon enough the Dornishmen will join me with all their power. And never forget my brother Stannis, who holds Dragonstone and commands the lords of the narrow sea."

"It would seem that you are the one who has forgotten Stannis," Catelyn said, more sharply than she'd intended.

Prince Doran's grievance against House Lannister goes back only a generation, but the Dornishmen have warred against Storm's End and Highgarden for a thousand years, and Renly has taken Dorne's allegiance for granted. - Tyrion V, ACOK

Taking Dorne for granted is one thing, but treating Stannis like an ally is astounding. This all bodes well. Great things always happen to those who are this overconfident.

+.+

Renly shrugged. "Tell me, what right did my brother Robert ever have to the Iron Throne?" He did not wait for an answer. "Oh, there was talk of the blood ties between Baratheon and Targaryen, of weddings a hundred years past, of second sons and elder daughters. No one but the maesters care about any of it. Robert won the throne with his warhammer."

Great point Renly, though the key difference here is that Robert took the throne, while you’re sitting on your ass, waiting for it to fall in your lap.

For the record, I’m not saying it’s a bad strategy. Do you buddy, keep your men alive.

+.+

If your son supports me as his father supported Robert, he'll not find me ungenerous. I will gladly confirm him in all his lands, titles, and honors. He can rule in Winterfell as he pleases. He can even go on calling himself King in the North if he likes, so long as he bends the knee and does me homage as his overlord. King is only a word, but fealty, loyalty, service . . . those I must have.

Take it and run!

+.+

I mean to be king, my lady, and not of a broken kingdom. I cannot say it plainer than that. Three hundred years ago, a Stark king knelt to Aegon the Dragon, when he saw he could not hope to prevail. That was wisdom. Your son must be wise as well. Once he joins me, this war is good as done.

+.+

"Your Grace." The rider spurred his mount closer. "I came swift as I could. From Storm's End. We are besieged, Your Grace, Ser Cortnay defies them, but . . ."

"But . . . that's not possible. I would have been told if Lord Tywin left Harrenhal."

"These are no Lannisters, my liege. It's Lord Stannis at your gates. King Stannis, he calls himself now."

Oopsie! Did a king take for granted his own castle was properly safeguarded?

Is one brother attacking another brother’s castle, while it lays unprotected?

Catelyn, take a second.

Final thoughts:

People who believe Renly would be a great king are deluded. Isn’t the whole point he’s exactly like Robert, only more frivolous and less into women?

I never noticed we get Meera and Brienne back-to-back. Our little fierce Starkling defenders!

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #acok #catelyn ii

55 notes · View notes