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#If I make chocolate chip waffles for the kids I check to make sure there’s a fair trade label on the bag
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You know what’s fucked up? Kids are forced into slave labor to harvest cacao because their families need food; then teachers in developed countries buy those very cacao products to distribute to their students as a reward for good behavior. Dystopian fucking Snowpiercer society we live in.
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jerzwriter · 3 years
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Day Seven - I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream
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Book: Open Heart (After Series)
Series: Their First Two Months
Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Casey MacTavish)
Rating: Teen
Summary: Ethan treats Casey to ice-cream on a sweltering hot summer day, and he proves he knows her better than she thinks.
Category: FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF
Warnings: None – unless you don’t like ice cream
Words: 979
A/N: Part of a series outlining the first two months after Ethan and Casey finally make it official. These can be read as part of the series or as stand alones.
A/N1: This series is meant to highlight the two-month period covered in the alternate OH ending found here.
A/N2: I am participating in CFWC’s Vacation Prompts Week using the prompt “Make it Cool”.
CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS
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(Radio): It’s going to be another sweltering day in Boston folks! We are going up to 95 degrees with a real feel of 101! Make sure you stay hydrated out there.
“That’s it, I’m never leaving this building. Sorry, Ethan, I’m not sleeping over tonight. I’ll be in the on-call room until the fall.”
“Are you saying the 4-minute walk to the car is too much to bear? In case you have forgotten, I do have air conditioning.”
“At 101 real feel? Yeah, that 4-minute walk may just be too much.”
“What about if I sweeten the deal and buy you ice cream on the way home?”
Casey’s ears perked up, “Did you say ice cream?”
“Yes, ice cream.”
“Oooh, can I get in on this too?” Tobias asked as he walked into the office.
“Tobias, I’m taking Casey on an ice cream date, I think three would be a crowd.”
“Well, I didn’t want to go anyway,” he laughed, “You guys should check out that new place on over on Legends Way.”
“Oh, I’ve heard about that! It’s apparently the place to be,” Casey said.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool, I got one of those huge ice cream cones with everything but the kitchen sink thrown on it.”
“On it?” Ethan asked.
“Yeah, it’s like rolled in fruit loops, dipped in chocolate and then some gummy bears on top,” Tobias explained.
“That sounds like an atrocity.”
“Aw, Ethan, come on don’t you want to be one of the cool kids?” Casey asked.
“No.”
“Ramsey, Casey & I are getting tired of holding up the team’s reputation here, you might want to step up.”
“I mean if it is a date, don’t you want to make me happy?” she said batting her eyelashes.
“Oh for heaven's sake, fine. I'll take you there.”
__________
Casey & Ethan make their way over to the new trendy ice cream shop after work. The two-block trek from their parking spot nearly does Casey in.
“Clearly, I did not calculate the walk in this heat when I said yes to this little date. If I had, you would have been running into Seven-Eleven to get me a pint of Cherry Garcia and we would have been on your couch by now.”
“Dear God, I didn’t know I was signing on for a relationship with such a complainer.”
“Bite it, Ramsey.”
Ethan laughed, “And look,” he said as they reached the storefront, “it is take out only, so we will have to eat outside.”
“Joy.”
“Look at these abominations… those cones enormous! And how much crap is hanging off of them, how are we even supposed to eat them?”
“Come on old man, I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Ethan steps up to order, “I’ll just have a vanilla cone with sprinkles.”
“Oh, no! You most certainly will NOT! Sorry, Hun, we’re in the it spot of Boston now! You go big or go home! I’m not darkening my Pictogram page with that pathetic excuse of a cone!”
“Well, what do you want me to get?”
“I’ll order for you. I will have a waffle cone with three scoops, one scoop of cake batter, one scoop of s’mores, and one scoop of mango. For toppings, I want Fruit Loops, chocolate chips, pretzels, and whipped cream.”
“Have you neglected to tell me you’re pregnant, or something?”
“Hush! And he will have a sugar cone with one scoop of banana, one scoop of sea salt caramel, and one scoop of chocolate fudge. For toppings give him crushed Oreos, malt balls, and gummy worms, but skip the whipped cream, because he is boring.”
“Oh, yeah, because that monstrosity you just ordered, screams boring.”
The cashier handed them their enormous, eclectic cones and they headed outside to sit on a bench. Ethan plucked off the gummy worms and threw them into a nearby trash bin.
“I have my limits, Rookie.”
“You haven’t called me Rookie in a while!”
“Well, since you’re acting like an adolescent right now, it seemed appropriate.”
“Oh, shut up!” she said as she bit into her cone. A look of pure disgust came over her face, but she tried to hide it.
Ethan started laughing, “That good, huh?”
“It’s delicious!” She feigned as she took another bite and gagged.
Ethan was now roaring. “This is amazing. Can I please have your phone, because I think you need a picture of your face, right now, for Pictogram.”
“OK, I surrender, this is awful.”
“Give me your cone,” he said as he proceeded to throw both of them in the trash.
“I hate wasting food, Rookie, so this will never happen again. Now, would you like to go and get ice cream? But I pick this time.”
“I guess.”
They returned to the car and took a brief ride to Cabot’s , an old-fashioned ice cream parlor that Ethan simply loved.
“Oh, look, Honey, we can sit inside in air-conditioning, what a novel concept.”
“Yes, dear, I see that.”
They sat across from each other in a big red booth, holding hands over the table when the waitress arrived to take their order.
“I will do the ordering this time! We will have a large sundae, vanilla ice cream, hot fudge topping, whipped cream, and a cherry on top. Two spoons please.”
“Could you be more traditional?”
“You’re in no position to speak right now.”
When the ice cream arrived they devoured it, not a drop was left behind.
“OK, that was delicious! I have to give you the win.”
“Casey, I think it’s cute when you pretend to be Ms. Trendy, but why don’t you admit it… deep down you’re just an old soul, just like me.”
She smirked, “Well, not just like you, I’m not that bad, but… you know me too damn well.”
Ethan leaned over the table to kiss her cheek, "Well, there is nothing wrong with that."
_____
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nerdypanda3126 · 3 years
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City of Love – Ch. 7
Tikki talks Marinette into giving Luka another chance, and Sass talks Luka into buying a ring.
Read on Ao3 
First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
“What do you mean ‘you didn’t say anything?’” Tikki screeched when Marinette told her later that night. 
She was stress baking and Tikki was “helping” by eating the raw cookie dough before Marinette had a chance to turn it into chocolate chip cookies. At the moment, she had a splotch of it on her finger that was threatening to slip off onto the counter, forgotten entirely, as she gaped incredulously at Marinette. 
“I… I couldn’t,” Marinette answered, biting her lip as she realized how awful that sounded. 
“But… he! And you! And—” Tikki gesticulated exasperatedly, throwing the splotch of dough some feet away onto the tile. “He likes you! You like him! I don’t understand the problem!” 
Marinette blushed and stooped to wipe up the stray dough to hide it. “It’s not that I don’t like him,” she started, “he’s cool, and nice, and cute and everything.” Her blush deepened as she thought about the words she was leaving unsaid. Amazing, kind, attentive, honest, smoldering hot, adorable when he was nervous, and probably a great kisser if only—
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. It was better they hadn’t kissed. That would make all of this even more confusing than it already was. 
“So…? Why didn’t you tell him that?” Tikki pressed. 
She sighed and stood, throwing the discarded batter into the trash as she did before she turned to face Tikki again. “Because I’ve been here before, Tikki, falling too fast for someone who has no intention of catching me.” 
“But he’s already there! He’s—” Tikki blew out a huff of breath that rattled the fringes of her bangs. “Marinette. People don’t say things like that unless they’re like… gone. Head over heels, it’s a done deal, no turning back. You know?” She reached in the bowl and grabbed another piece of cookie dough to replace the one she’d lost, spooning it into her mouth before going for another. 
“How could he be ‘head over heels’ for me when he barely even knows me? I barely even know him! This is just all… going so fast.” She fanned herself to hold off the panic that was creeping up her throat. 
Tikki gave Marinette a sympathetic look. “If you think you don’t know him well enough, then maybe you should invite him out somewhere. Give him a chance to get to know you and you a chance to get to know him.” She shrugged. “I’ll go with you, if you want. Moral support.” 
Marinette narrowed her eyes at Tikki. “You just want to see Sass again.” 
Tikki giggled. “Well, I do admit that’d be a bonus.” 
“Where would I even invite him?” 
“You two had fun at the club, didn’t you? Maybe we should go back there.” 
“That doesn’t really help the ‘getting to know him,’ though, it’s too loud for anything but dancing.” 
“And you two did just fine at that,” Tikki said, hiding another giggle with her hand. 
Marinette’s blush flared to life again. She snapped her towel at Tikki right as the oven timer went off and she turned away to pull out the tray of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, breathing in the familiar sugary melted chocolate scent of home and comfort. 
"My dad used to say if you really want to get to know someone, get in the kitchen with them and see if they can take the heat," she mused aloud. 
"That's perfect then!" Tikki chirped, and Marinette had to smack her hand away from the still 200°C cookies before she could snatch one. 
"What's perfect?" 
"Invite him over for dinner, have him help you out a bit, see if he can take the heat."
Marinette didn’t answer as she shoved another tray of cookies in the oven and set her timer. She stared at the backsplash above the stovetop as she thought. Luka in the kitchen with her. It seemed at once the perfect solution and the perfect disaster. Mostly because if she got flustered while she was cooking… 
Sharp knives, hot stove, hotter date… She groaned and let her head fall into her hands. Disaster. She’d spend the night in the hospital is how that would go. She turned to tell Tikki she couldn’t and found her typing away on her phone, smiling down at the screen. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Asking Sass and Luka over for dinner tomorrow.” Tikki didn’t even look up when Marinette let out a strangled squeak.  She pressed send on her phone and set it on the counter as if challenging Marinette to take it back. 
“You—but—I—” Marinette’s words scrambled together in her brain, each protest dying on her lips before it even got started. While she was short-circuiting, she missed it when Tikki shot her hand out to steal a cookie from the tray. 
“You’ll be fine,” Tikki mumbled around molten chocolate, hissing as it stung her fingers. “Just be yourself.” 
***
“You’re kidding me. It took you all of two seconds to announce you’re proposing to the girl, but when it comes to a ring you can’t make a decision?” Luka rolled his eyes and leaned on the pawn shop counter—the third they'd been to that evening—as Sass waffled over every shiny thing in the case. 
“Shut up,” Sass hissed at him, his eyes still glued on the case, flicking back and forth between the limited options. “I want to get this right.” 
“I don’t know why you’re so worried. She’s gonna say yes.” 
“You don’t understand,” Sass muttered back. Then he turned to smirk at Luka. “At least you won’t, until you propose to Marinette.” Luka scowled back at him, but Sass just shrugged and returned to his task coolly. “Might as well get it over with, it’s gonna happen eventually anyways.” 
“How do you figure that, when she all but ran away from me?” 
“You’re so clueless.” 
“Then clue me in, why don’t you? Oh all knowing wise one.” In the process of rolling his eyes again, Luka spotted a small diamond on a delicate silver band tucked into the back corner of the case. “What about that one?” he asked, pointing it out to Sass. 
“Too plain for Tikki,” he answered immediately. His smirk was reflected in the glass. “Perfect for Marinette.”
Before he could help it, Luka’s eyes were drawn back to the small diamond as heat crept up the back of his neck to his ears. He cleared his throat and straightened up, fully aware that Sass’s grin had only grown.
“You know, it would help if you would tell me what you’re looking for,” Luka said when he’d recovered.  
“I’ll know it when I see it.” 
“Right.”
There was a pause between them and Luka’s gaze wandered over to the guitars for sale that were hung up on the other side of the shop. He didn’t need another one. And he didn’t need to buy a ring, despite Sass’s implications. 
He’d screwed everything up. He should’ve done what Sass said and invited Marinette out on a date. But no. He had to go and admit he’d fallen in love with her. What kind of idiot says that after spending a few hours with someone? He raked his hair over his ears, certain they were glowing with how much heat it felt like they were putting off. He’d be lucky if she ever talked to him again, let alone wanted to go out with him. 
On the counter beside him, Sass’s phone chimed. 
“Get that for me, will you?” he asked Luka. “Can I see that one?” He pointed in the case and the attendant helping them jingled his keys as he searched for the right one to unlock the case. 
As Luka reached for Sass’s phone, he caught a glimpse of the ring the attendant was pulling out for Sass. A milky white pearl held in place by gold swirls on each side with a sleek gold band. It looked at once vintage and modern, and Luka instantly pictured it nestled on Tikki’s left hand. He smiled as he checked the message on Sass’s screen, but then his stomach dropped to his toes and his throat went dry. 
T: Dinner tomorrow at Marinette’s? Bring Luka. She’s hopeless. 
She could only mean Marinette. But hopeless? What…? 
His head popped up and he could only gape at Sass. When Sass noticed Luka’s distress, he paused, holding the ring between his fingers, and his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Mutely, Luka handed the phone back to him. When Sass read the message, he just grinned again. 
“Told you,” he said, handing the phone back to Luka. “Text her back and say we’ll be there. And this is the one,” he added to the attendant. “I’ll take it. And he’ll take the silver one.” 
“No, no I won’t,” Luka managed to choke out. The attendant glanced between the two of them, probably trying to decide which one of them to listen to. 
“You don’t have to give it to her tomorrow,” Sass added casually, “but based on your track record, it might be better to be prepared for when it just falls out of your mouth.” 
Luka opened and closed his mouth several times, his arguments dying in the back of his throat each time. How in the world did Sass manage to do that so effectively? Finally, he clenched his teeth and sighed as he nodded to agree. 
The attendant placed both rings in small gift boxes as they paid. When Luka shoved the little package in the pocket of his hoodie, it felt like it dropped like a stone. What was he thinking? This was the stupidest, the most impulsive, the most insane thing he’d ever done. 
But when they opened the door to the shop and Luka caught sight of his bike waiting for them, graced with Marinette’s artwork; when music started flowing through his head unbidden; when his heart started thudding in his ears as a smile broke across his face, he knew he’d never been more sure of anything in his life.
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choco-glow · 3 years
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Fall Like Rain On Sunday, Pt. 11
The route to Steph’s apartment was a little bit difficult in a truck, but with the little bit of time he had to spare, he found a decent place to park in one of the quiet parking lots provided by the city, surprised to find a spot under an awning for a change. Jason loaded up his reuseable bags; it was a bit of a walk to Steph’s place from here, but with his jacket over the bags and his hood up, he was mostly protected, and this rain was a gentle one, not one of the hurricane-force bastards from the South. Boots splashing through puddles as he walked, Jason made his way through the Narrows, checking on everyone he passed with careful glances.
Everyone’s looking good…that’s a relief. Then again, Steph and I have been working hard to get people the help they need…and having Pops foot the bill goes a long way. It was the agreement that Bruce had eagerly signed with Jason; Red Hood would stop most of his killing, and Batman would fund the repair work needed to get the Narrows and Gotham back up to where they needed to be. Not that Bruce wasn’t already doing that, but having his and Steph’s eyes and ears in the thick of things made the job easier, and he’d already admitted that even his “Lefty” persona wasn’t half as good at sussing out what needed done as Jason’s quiet questioning or Steph’s cheerful chatter.
He did try his best, but throwing money at things down here ain’t the way to fix things…he knows that now, thankfully, and hey, he is listening. And on top of that, I think he enjoys the challenge of fixing things without making it feel gentrified. That had been Jason’s worry; that commercial investors would flood the area and ruin things for the people just trying to survive…but Bruce had had other plans for them. I think his lawyers were gnawing on their desks in boredom; siccing them on the scummy landlords and assholes trying to take over was exactly what they needed. Jason grinned to himself as he waved to the local bakery shop owner, taking a break from her work and sipping a cup of coffee, flour dusting her dark hair and apron.
Instead, Bruce had quietly bought out all the landlords in the area, installed a set of vetted managers to act as landlords with a dedicated maintenance staff…and made the entirety of the Narrows rent-controlled for the next fifty years. Jason had been awestruck when Bruce had revealed his plan, and he still remembered how worried the old man looked, hands clenched together, lips pursed thin.
‘“Jason…do you think it’s a good idea? I plan on leveling out the rents so that they’re reasonable, and every place will get a renovation, with free stays at hotels while the work is done…and if there’s a dedicated staff, I figure that way we can tackle problems before they become disasters. And no one person controls the rent…it all goes into the maintenance budget and to pay the managers, and the managers work as a team.”’
‘“…if you weren’t my dad, I’d kiss you right now.”’ Jason grinned to himself at Bruce’s blush of pleasure and happiness, and hummed a little as he gently kicked a soccer ball back into a yard. I’m sure it’d grate on people’s nerves to still have someone running it all, but…well, Pops does know how to pick his managers, and so far, there’s been nothing but good reviews. Nearly every tenant he’d talked to had been ecstatic. Between rent control, utilities dropping because things were getting fixed, and quality of life improving, the Narrows had become a place of hope, rather than despair…and he chuckled as he almost walked right past Steph’s building, long legs already warmed up for a jaunt around the neighborhood.
Later, Red; your girl’s gonna be wanting those waffles. He walked up the stoop and keyed in her visitor code; usually, he went in through the roof, but well, that was…kind of a dick move during the daylight, and this kept him from being caught. With care, he shook himself free of water before stepping inside, wiped his boots on the mat, and started up the stairs, wondering if he should call in a favor to get the elevator fixed. It wasn’t like stairs were hard, but he knew this building had a lot of elders…I’ll ask around, see if anyone’s got a job for it yet. Probably, it’s one of Bruce’s buildings now, and it can be hard to find a qualified tech with the time to spare.
As he crested the third floor, he mused a little more. Though, given the enrollment numbers at GothTech, I have a feeling that we’ll have plenty of engineers and handyfolks within the next year. Giving kids and adults a free certification in whatever they want through vocational school has been a godsend for the whole city; we need qualified people doing the work, and with Wayne Industries paying them the right amounts, we’re getting the kind of numbers that Gotham U wishes they had. Sure, there’s grants and stuff, but…well, GothTech doesn’t have complicated history with the Maroni and Falcone clans.
Hell, even Steph had transferred into the nursing program at GT, and Jason was seriously considering the automotive mechanics classes, if for nothing else to fix the goddamn sputter in his motorcycle. Only so many Youtube videos I can watch…He grumbled to himself as he made it up to the eight floor, hardly even panting despite his legs burning a little, and he knocked on Steph’s door with a sigh of relief, shelving his thoughts for a later day. Digging into his bag as he heard her approach, he held up the Eevee plate with a winsome grin on his face, and when Steph opened the door, her squeal of delight was the best sound he’d heard all day.
“Eevee!”
“Saw it and thought of you, baby. Shall we waffle?” Her laughter was all Jason needed, and he scooped her up into a kiss as she pulled him inside…but the smirk on her face as she pulled away just made him grin even bigger.
“Better get to work, Hood, I’m expecting only the best golden waffles.”
“And only the best golden waffles for my lady. With sprinkles.”
“…I love you.”
“Love you too, Stephie.” She dragged him to the tiny kitchen, where apparently some cleaning had gone on this morning; dishes were freshly washed in the drainer and the counter had been cleared off of all of Steph’s normal debris, which made Jason smile fondly as he set down his finds on her tiny table. Together, they unboxed the waffle maker and wiped down the plates, and Steph pulled out a mixing bowl and spatula while Jason laid out the ingredients and got the maker warming, spraying it lightly with a bit of oil. With her direction, he started mixing up the batter while Steph surveyed the haul in front of her.
“Hmmm…”
“What sounds good first, sweetheart?”
“Well, I had berries last night…I think chocolate chips this morning!” He chuckled and set the bowl down for her to dump two heaping cupfuls of chips into the batter, stirring it expertly before stealing the half-cup to start ladling in batter, remembering what he’d looked up last night before he’d crashed. “Ohhhh those look so good.”
“Hell yeah they do, and I’m not normally a chocolate fan to that extent.” She kissed him and he melted into her kisses, the last vestiges of his nightmare from this morning finally breaking away. Something must’ve shown on his face, because she cupped his cheek, eyes worried, and he just pressed a kiss to her palm, nuzzling in close.
“You okay, Jay?”
“Mmn…just a really bad nightmare this morning.” Jason didn’t have to say what from; she knew. She knew better than anyone…it was what had made them really bond when they’d first met, when he was so angry still from…well, everything, and hadn’t been inclined to care about anyone in the Batfamily. Steph, however, had dug in under his skin, demanded that he at least talk things out…and he pulled her into a hug, rocking her close. “Thought of you, though, and that helped.” Her smile was brilliant against his skin, and he pulled back just enough to kiss her…when the stink of burned batter filled the kitchen and they both sprang apart with a yelp, flipping over the waffle maker and digging out the now charred waffle.
“Oh shit, shit shit…”
“It’s okay, babe, I shoulda paid more attention…” Steph cracked open her window, and Jason was glad for the cleansing scent of the rain outside while he tossed the lost waffle into the trash, fanning the smell out with a towel. They surveyed the wafflemaker, making sure it wasn’t toast, and with a sigh of relief, he cleaned off the crusted bits and laughed a little. “…Well, that was exciting.” Steph gave a chuckle, and they kissed again, this time with all the time in the world.
“Shall we try again?”
“Fuck yeah, we’re not quitters.”
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Meeting You In The Hallway Part 2
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a/n: HII lovely people! I hope you are all doing well today! This is part 2 of Meeting you in the Hallway. A lot happens in this chapter, y/n and H gonna get real close. 
What it is: You move into the apartment across the hall from Harry and you begin a friendship which you both want more from but can’t communicate that want.
Word Count: 5.7k
Warning: fluff, some cursing, sexual tensionnn, & lil bit of smut.
Pls reblog if you like it 😊 I literally have so much homework to do now because I wrote this instead LOL. 
~~~
You woke up at 4:00 pm. 2 hours before your shift started. You had only one more week on the night shift. Then you’d have a regular schedule. You took one hour to get ready. You basically just showered, did your hair, and put some mascara on. You put your scrubs on and compression socks that had little sunflowers on them. They were your favorites. Around 6:00 you poured yourself a bowl of cereal and packed your dinner Tupperware in your bag. You made it the night before so you could have it ready for today. As you were eating your cereal you heard 3 slow knocks on your door. You got up and checked the peephole just in case. Low and behold it was Harry. You opened the door and were greeted by a very cheesy smile.
“Hi” you looked at him a little confused.
“Hi. I’m really sorry to bother you but um.. Do you have an egg?”
“An egg?”
“Yeah. Just the one” he said with a small smile on his lips.
You shook your head playfully. “Come inside”
You walked further into your apartment towards your kitchen.
Harry watched you as you walked away. He watched as your scrubs hugged your ass and hips. How your scrub top was tighter around your waist. He noticed your sunflower socks and smiled a little.
You reached inside your fridge and grabbed 2 eggs. “Here, just in case one breaks on the way back over”
“Are you calling me clumsy y/n?” He smirked at you.
“No, just think it’s better to be safe than sorry” you shrugged.
“Are you a nurse?”
“Yeah. I’m leaving in a few minutes” you told him.
“Leaving? It’s like 6:15 at night”
“Yeah. Night shift.”
“Oh” he said a little sad you had to go soon.
“Yeah. I’m going to day shift soon though. Thank God” you sighed.
“Don’t like night shift?”
“I don’t like being awake when people are asleep and being asleep when people are awake. It sucks”
He nodded his head in understanding.
“Well, I’m making cookies. Hence the eggs. Do you want some? I can drop them off tomorrow.” He offered.
You smiled and nodded. It was sweet how he thought of you.
“Okay. Well I’m gonna let you go then. Thanks for the eggsss” he said as he playfully put an emphasis on the S at the end.
“No problem,” you laughed. “Hey I’m actually leaving right now anyway. We can walk out together” you grabbed your bag and washed your cereal bowl. He watched you the whole time, noticing how you your scrub top lifted a little bit when you reached for your reusable Starbucks cup to fill with water.
“Okay I’m all done” you breathed out and looked at him. You caught him staring for a small second before he got up quickly and waited for you to walk out. You put your crocs on before you opened your door and you heard a small laugh behind you.
“What?”
“Nothing it’s just the little cartoons on your shoes are adorable” he smiled so that you could see his dimples in your small hallway.
“They’re called jibbitz and I just got them for the kids. Child friendly you know?” You explained. You both looked down staring at your feet. Your right foot was filled with the faces of all the Disney princess’ and your left foot was filled with all the superheroes you could fit. You could hear his low chuckle and you two both looked up at the same time. At this point your faces were just a few inches apart. You could’ve sworn you heard him suck in a breath. You turned around and unlocked your door and took a deep breath of the hallway air. Harry followed you out and you locked your door and tucked your keys in your pockets.
“Have a good night.. at work”
“Thanks. Have fun baking”
“Thanks”
You never look at him for too long. Scared you’ll be caught staring the same way you caught him. But just before you left you noticed he’s always wearing long sleeves. At least that you’ve seen.
“Try not to overheat. Baking can get pretty warm” you said pointing to his long sleeves.
“Oh yeah. I always keep the temp in my place at like 60°. I get cold so I just put a long sleeve shirt on.”
“Why not just put the temperature up?”
“What’s the fun and coziness in that?” He smiled down at you.
You laughed and shook your head, “Right. Well goodnight harry”
“Goodnight y/n”
~~~
7 am rolls around faster than you thought. You say bye to your friends from work and grab your bag before leaving. You walk home because the sidewalks aren't as busy as they will be in an hour. Exhausted, you say hi to Pat and go inside. You catch your curly headed neighbor with his hair up in a small pony and a tank top with shorts. For the first time you see how many tattoos he has. You pop up next to him as you both now wait for the elevator. 
"You're up early"
"Oh hey. How was work?" he looks down at you.
"it was… exhausting" you decide to not tell him the sad gory details of your night. Your patient threw up on you because of their chemo treatment and you needed to change your scrubs at the very beginning of your shift. "Were you walking?"
"Running. Jogging. Helps me clear my mind" he says as he waits for you to go in the elevator first.
You walk in and when you turn around you can see he has even more tattoos on his legs. You find them kind of hot. Wanting to know more and see more. He stands next to you as you wait for the elevator to land on the 17th floor.
"Do you work again tonight?"
"Yeah. Why?" you looked up at him. He was staring straight ahead.
"Nothing. Was just gonna invite you to my gig." he looks down at you and there seems to be disappointment in his eyes.
"Oh sorry. Maybe another night." you say quietly. "What do you do? Poetry? Sing? Can't be comedy." you say with a small smirk.
"Actually, I'm a very funny person y/n," he faces you. "But I-" he pauses as someone walks in.
Soon we land on the 17th floor and our elevator conversation seems to have ended by the time we make it to our doors.
"So… do you just go to sleep now?" he asked as he opened his door.
"Yeah basically. I mean I shower and eat something before I fall asleep." you answer as you open your door and turn around.
"Oh okay. I was gonna make breakfast, if you wanted some."
"Depends. What's on the menu?" you kicked your shoes off and leaned on your doorframe.
He watched you and said, "Today? I'm thinking…waffles?"
"Mmm, I'll be over in 30." just as you were about to shut your door he said, "No um I'll come and bring them over. With the cookies."
"Okay"
He left and you both closed your doors. It was nice to have a new friend. A friend that looked like a Greek god but still, a friend.
You walked into your bedroom and dug through the last few boxes you had left. You grab a clean towel and clean pajamas as you walk into your bathroom. You set the water to be warm because it was already way too hot today. You thought back to Harry. He seemed to love cooking and baking. You've only known him a few days but you already felt friendly enough. You remembered his tattoos. You wanted to ask if there was a story behind his heart tattoo.  
Pouring some peach scented shampoo onto your hands, you began rubbing your hair and massaging it in. You remember how large his hands looked when he grabbed the two eggs yesterday. They looked miniature in his hands. Your thoughts began to escape you as you relaxed under the warm water and you wondered what it felt like to have his hands on your body. Remembering he was probably waiting on you to eat, you shook your thoughts out of your head and shut the water off.
"Its just a stupid crush" you mumbled to yourself as you put your pjs on.
~~~
As Harry was mixing the batter for waffles he began to think about you. He wanted to know more about your night and why you looked so exhausted. He wanted to hear you talk for hours. He couldn't explain for the life of him why he wanted to be around you every chance he got. He rushed to make at least 5 waffles for you. He cut up some strawberries and packed some berries. He packed everything in some Tupperware and grabbed the chocolate drizzle and whipped cream. Before he left his place he grabbed his phone and thought of how to subtly get your number.
He knocked on your door three times and you opened pretty quickly. 
"Hey" you smiled at him. 
He noticed how you had no more makeup on your eyes and you looked even more beautiful. "H-hey" he cleared his throat. 
You noticed all the Tupperware in his hands and you grabbed a few as he walked in. "You're eating some of these waffles right? Five is too much for me." 
"Oh yeah sure." He put all the bowls down. 
"You weren't planning on watching me eat were you?" you said as you got two cups from your cupboard. He looked at your silk button up and matching shorts. They were a light pink. Your skin looked so soft. 
"No." Yes. "I was just making yours first so you could go to sleep faster. You said you were exhausted"
"Oh, well thanks. I appreciate that." you tried to hide your blush so you looked down at your plate. "Do you like to cook?" you couldn't help but ask.
"Yeah actually. It's just a hobby. I like to mix new things and try them out."
You watched his hands, noticing the chipped nail polish on them for the first time.
"Well, if you had a restaurant," you say as you take a bite of the waffle with whipped cream and strawberry, "I'd give you 5 stars." You smile cheeks full.
He gave you a dimply smile before mumbling a "thank you" and looking down. You planned on only eating two waffles but they were so good you guys split the fifth one.
"You never told me what you do at your gigs" you mentioned before stuffing your mouth again.
"Oh um I sing. Play some guitar too" he said as he focused on cutting his waffle.
"That’s so cool, is that what you do for a living?" you looked up at him.
With a throaty chuckle he shook his head no. "My job is a secret" he said right before taking a sip of his orange juice.
"Oh okay," you nodded, "So you can know what I do, but I can't know what you do. Mysterious man."
"Exactly!" he laughed.
You just shook your head and picked up your plate and cup and brought it to the dishwasher. Eventually Harry brought his too. Eating just the leftover strawberries now, you gave yourself time to stare at him a little. He was preoccupied with something on his phone. You noticed a small earring in his ear. You could tell he had more tattoos that covered his chest. A little bit of stubble had grown on him since the first time you met. You also noticed how he rushed to make you breakfast that he hadn’t showered after his run. When he finished with whatever he was preoccupied with a yawn escaped you.
"Well, I'm glad you liked breakfast. I hope you enjoy the cookies. Get some rest yeah?" he got up from his seat at your small table and walked over to where you were standing. You were leaning against doorway that led to your small hallway.
"Yeah thank you, again" You were eye level with the swallows on his chest that were peeking out from under his shirt.
 "No problem. Have a good night tonight." he looked anywhere but you as he said.
"Yeah you too, good luck!"
 "Thanks" he left and closed your door behind him.
Biting your lip you walked off to your bedroom to dream about the curly headed man across the hall.
As the door shut behind Harry, he silently cursed to himself. He had forgotten to get your number.
~~~
One Month Later
 You’ve been on the day shift a few weeks now. You had settled into a new routine. Wake up at 5:00 am, be out of your house by 6:00, meet Harry in the hallway before he went for his jog and he'd give you a smoothie before you left for work, be at work for report by 7, work until 7:00 pm. Get home around 7:30, shower, eat dinner with Harry, then sleep to do it all over again if you had to work the next day.
 Your friendship with Harry had progressed. You two basically took care of one another. He'd feed you every day and you'd do his laundry as a way to repay him. You’d say you two got to a level of comfortability around each other but you still oddly enough had never been to his place, knew what he did for a living, or been to one of his gigs. He'd say he didn’t have any performances coming up but some nights he would leave after dinner a little earlier than usual. You knew all the stories behind his tattoos. One day when you were doing laundry he asked you to toss in the shirt he was wearing and when he took it off you saw the tattoos you had been missing. That day he gave you the rundown on all of them.
 You could tell he was getting more comfortable around you because he didn’t seem so nervous to say the wrong thing anymore and every time he saw you, sweaty or not he'd give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He explained its what they did in France when two people were friends. When I mentioned he wasn’t even French he waved me off.
 You were currently on your couch on your day off waiting for Harry to come back from the kitchen with your popcorn and white wine. You had gotten him into watching The Vampire Diaries and as much as he would criticize the show, some scenes just grasped all his attention.
 "Har?" you called for him. Your new nickname for him that he said he didn’t mind.
 "I'm coming I'm coming" he said as he walked in with two wine glasses between his fingers, a wine bottle in one hand, and the popcorn in his other.
 "You know, you kind of look like Stefan. Similar noses, same um cupid's bow" you said pointing to yours. "You guys both also do the same thing with your eyebrows when you're serious.
 "You’ve been looking at my cupid's bow?" he grinned at you while pouring you a glass.
 "Oh don't start" you rolled your eyes taking a sip.
 You began watching season 2 episode 9. You knew what was going to happen but Harry had no clue. He absolutely loved Damon and thought Stefan was pathetic. You somewhat disagreed with him but still allowed him his opinion. It slowly got to the scene where Damon confesses his love for Elena. You mouth every single word and even a tear slips out when Damon's falls but you wipe it quickly.  You watched Harry as he watched the screen, his mouth slightly opened.
 "Okay but why in the bloody hell would he compel her to forget! Ugh this show frustrates me" He sighed laying back against in the couch.
 "He couldn’t be selfish… have you ever wanted to say something to someone but you knew it would be selfish if you did?" you looked over at him.
 Suddenly his facial features hardened and he swallowed before answering, "yes, actually. I guess I do understand Damon."
 "Well, yeah" you played the next episode and drank your wine. You felt your eyes get heavy the more you drank it.
 Next thing you knew you felt something hard against your cheek and puffs of air on your forehead. You were moving. You opened your eyes slowly and realized Harry was carrying you into your room. You closed your eyes again and you let him place you on your soft mattress and you felt him tuck you in under the blanket. Your eyes fluttered open slowly and you looked up at him. He gave you a small smile and moved your hair out of your face.
 "Go to back to sleep, love" He bent down and gave you a kiss on the cheek. "I'll lock up"
 You gave him a slow nod and drifted back to sleep. As Harry closed your door behind him, he mumbled to himself, "I can't be selfish".
 ~~~
One Week Later
 You were currently getting ready for the day. Your body was used to waking up early for work so it was around 7 am. You wanted to catch Harry on his way back from his run. You were able to hear the elevator ding from your apartment because it was still so quiet on your floor. You ran to your door and opened it just enough to see if it was Harry. Once you were able to see his bright pink sneakers you hid just a little more so that right when he was about to open his door you jumped out and yelled “HI”.
 He jumped and turned around, “Fuck me y/n” he placed his hand over his heart and breathed heavily.
 You giggled and leaned against your door frame. “Is that really what you want?” You grinned up at him.
 He shook his head at you with a small smile. “I was just trying to open my door in peace”
 “So, do that. Open it.” You pushed on. You wanted to know why you still were never invited over.
 Harry sighed and played with his keys. “I have something to tell you”
 “I knew it, your hiding like a huge sex doll in there or something right?”
 “You know,” he approached you and put his hand over your head leaning on your doorframe too, “you can be a little annoying sometimes”.
 “That’s rude,” he smelled like sweat and musk mixed, “but I know. Okay what’s up?”
 He looked away from you as he spoke. “Alright, first off. My apartments always a mess and it’s not what you think. You know me as some guy who comes to your place and cooks and I run… but you don’t know this big part of my life.”
 “To be fair you haven’t let me,” You look up at him. His body is inches away from yours and you want to touch him in some way to make him more comfortable but you don’t know how.  
 “I know. It’s not like you’re judgmental I just don’t want you to see me differently.” 
 “Har, as long as you’re not some creepy dude that watches some weird shit, like illegal shit, I really don’t care. You’re my friend, I’ll support you in whatever.” You poked him where his butterfly lay under his shirt.
 “If you say so,” he turned around and opened his apartment, “come in” he opened the door open for you.
 You walked in and it was a short hallway like yours. When you walked in you could see the mess he was talking about but it wasn’t horrible. Papers on the floor in his living room but his kitchen was spotless. He spent the rest of the morning making breakfast for you two while you just watched. You told him about your last few patients and how one was officially cancer free. He always loved hearing you talk about them, especially the success stories. He was there for you for the unsuccessful ones but you both didn't like to talk about them too much.
~~~
It was now 5 pm, you could see the door that led to his room. You weren’t going to push it and ask to see though. You saw a few bedazzled jackets on his couch. You ran your fingers over one.
 “I have a gig tonight.”
 “You do?!” You jumped excitedly, “Har, I don’t see why you were so nervous.” You look around. “I don’t see a sex doll”
 “So annoying.” he walked into his room. You followed but stopped at the doorway. “Come in y/n”
 You walked in slowly and looked around. A few more papers crumpled up on the floor.
 “The outfits I wear are a little…” he looked into his closet. Your eyes followed his and you could see why he was nervous. There were skirts, bedazzled coats, pants, and all of different colors.
 “You little shit.. You had a closet like this and didn’t share?” You pushed him out of the way and began looking at all the clothes individually.
 Harry smiled behind you, happy with your reaction. He looked at the way your eyes lit up over feeling certain fabrics. “Do you uh, wanna help me pick an outfit for tonight?”
 You turned around quickly and looked up at him. “Yes,” You tried to contain your excitement. “Go shower, I’ll put some outfits together.”
 He turned on his heel and listened to you. You began setting outfits on his bed. You settled on setting down 4 outfits. One was a black dress shirt and white pants that flared outward. The second was a pink suit that had roses on its jacket on each side. The third was a red suit with black embroidered roses on it. The last one was a pink dress shirt with white high waisted pants and pink overalls. The last outfit was your favorite but you weren’t t going to mention it.
 You heard the shower cut off so you sat on his bed.
 He came out in just a towel wrapped around his waist. You focused on the detailing of the embroidered black roses on his red suit jacket. Or at least tried to focus on that.
 "Um I picked four options, I hope you like them." He came and sat next to you on the bed, his towel opening a bit between his legs.
 "I think I want to be comfortable tonight," he ran his fingers over all four options, "Might go with the black shirt and white pants."
"Okay cool," you were trying your best to look anywhere but at him.
 "I have a box at the bottom of my closet, a bunch of jewelry in there, could you pick some rings out? I'm just gonna keep my small earrings tonight and I don't really want a necklace. It'll be too hot"
 "I'm like your stylist"
 "Yeh, who knows, maybe if I make it big you will be" he sends a wink your way.
 "Don't think I'd have the heart to leave my patients." You grab the box. As you open it you look inside and see a bunch of rings and pearls. "Hey are your nails done?"
 "Eh a little chipped"
 "We'll fix that" you grab his H and S rings and set them next to you. Having your back towards him you could hear him putting his clothes on. "You know I have a gel kit, could help with the chipping problem."
"Oh really? Could you do them for me?"
"Yeah of course." you take out his rose ring and settle them down next to his initial rings. "Are you done?"
"Yeah I'm not putting the shirt on till later though, too hot."
You nodded, turned around, and grabbed his hand. You opened his hand up and dropped his rings inside.
"Thanks, grab me one more."
Confused, you looked inside the box and looked for one you liked. You decided on one that looked like it had a red gem. "Here" you gave it to him.
"Thanks, here take this one and wear it," he gave you back his S ring.
"Why?"
"So people know you're my other half"
You felt butterflies in your stomach but you suppressed them. He just saw you as friend, nothing more. You mumbled a thanks and slid it on your finger.
"Lets go back to my place, so I can do your nails. I know you like color but I was thinking white? Match your pants but it'll stand out against your black shirt"
"Yeah okay im alright with that."
You went back to your place and you got yourselves settled into your kitchen with the UV machine on. He concentrated on you as you painted the foundation clear polish on his nails.
"Har, is your job still a secret?"
"Eh, I guess I know you wont be a loud mouth about it anymore,"
You looked up and he was grinning, teasing you. You rolled your eyes and went back to painting his nails.
"I'm a writer. Author of a few books. Poetry."
"Liar, I've never heard of you." Although it did make sense with all of the paper crumbled over his floor.
"Pseudonym, love"
"Really?" You placed his soft hand under the light.
"Mhm. No one knows it. I like it that way. No one knows what I'm thinking sometimes."
"Not even your mother?"
"Not even her. She's read my work but only the ones I want her to read."
"Interesting" you say as you place his other hand under the light.
He nods and continues watching you. Soon you finish up and he stares at them amazed. "Wait so I don’t have to wait for them to dry?"
"Nope, I'm gonna get changed. It's almost 7"
"Okay" he stays staring back at his nails.
You played with his ring while looking back at your closet. Should I wear black too? Or white? Maybe we shouldn't match. But why not? You settled on black and white striped pants with a red bralette and some red heels. His gig was at a sit-down bar anyway. When you came back out and ready to go, he looked you up and down and you could see him clench his fist at his sides.
"Nice pants," he swallowed hard.
"Thanks, let's go?"
"Yeah okay"
You grabbed a taxi and shared it to his gig. It was a little more downtown. By the time you got there with traffic it was almost 9. he started around 9:15. You settled on one of the stools at the bar and he went backstage. He said he needed to rush and tune the guitar they had for him so you just wished him luck and grabbed yourself a drink.
People cheered for him when they saw him come on stage. Must not be his first time here you assumed.
"Good evening everyone! Tonight will consist of a few covers and maybe an original. I'll see if you guys deserve it" he winked at the crowd.
You swiveled your chair around as you heard the familiar chords of 'Girl Crush' began. You'd never heard Harry sing and once he started you didn’t want him to stop. He had the voice of an angel. He hit high notes so effortlessly sometimes and other times you could see the veins in his neck bulging. The next song he played was 'Space Cowboy' which he did so well. You cheered extra loud each time.
"Alright alright, I'm going to play an original now. I wrote this one just a week ago or so. I hope you like it.
Meet me in the hallway
Meet me in the hallway
I just left your bedroom
Give me some morphine
Is there any more to do?
 You swiveled on your seat to the beat. His voice was getting a little raspier now. Like he needed water.
I walked the streets all day
Running with the thieves
'Cause you left me in the hallway
Give me some more
Just take the pain away
You started to think about what the song was about. Was Harry secretly hooking up with someone? The song finished and you ordered a shot of tequila. You needed alcohol to distract you from asking him what the song was about and the pit in your stomach. "It wasn't about you y/n," you said to yourself. He's never been inside your roo- well for like one second when he brought you to bed but that was nothing. It's still not about you. Harry's set was over and you were over the night too. You’d put on a fake smile for Harry. You saw him approach the bar, more buttons from his shirt undone.
"So, how'd you like it?"
"It was so good! Congrats!" you put your arm around his neck and brought him in for a hug. You kissed his cheek as you both pulled away.
"Thanks. I'm happy you liked it."
"Mhm" you nodded, finishing your drink. "Why don't we go somewhere and celebrate?"
"You're not tired?"
Feeling a bit angry with the thoughts of Harry hooking up with someone and not telling you about it, you shook your head and paid the bartender.
"Nope. I'm full of energy right now."
You both decided on a club that was near your building. It was so that when you guys got tired you didn't have a log way home. You both decided to take a round of shots to celebrate properly. Before you know it harry has his hands on your waist to keep you steady and you find any excuse to touch him.
"I have to pee!" you yell in his ear.
He felt his ear on fire after your lips had brushed against it. Your nose was red from all the shots and your lips were a little more pink from all the lime. For his peace of mind he walked you to the bathroom and watched you go in. You did your business quickly and walked back out to him.
"Hey do you wanna grab some fresh air?" He asked as you approached him.
 You looped your fingers around two of his belt loops and looked up at him and shook your head. "Im good" 
His eyes looked darker than usual and he stared at your lips.
"y/n, what are you doing?"
"Nothing," you moved closer to him as a few girls tried get to the bathroom, you could hear him grunt as you pressed yourself against his lower half. "I just moved out of the way for them"
He kept his eyes on your lips as you licked them. It made him ache watching you. He wanted to kiss you so badly, but not when you couldn't remember it the next day. 
"Har, what was that song about?" you looked down. With furrowed brows he lifted his hand to your cheek softly and made you look up at him.  
"What do you think it was about?" He wanted to run his thumb over your lips. He had felt them so many other times on his cheek but each of those times it happened too quick.
"I don't know, I don’t even know if I care about what it's about. I wanna know who its about" you leaned into his palm.
People came back out of the bathroom and the rush of people going back and forth made you feel dizzy. That's the thing about tequila, you could drink and drink it but all the effects hit you all at once. Harry's grip tightened around your waist.
"C'mon lets go home." He walked you through the bar and got you outside. The fresh air overwhelming you, even made you nauseous. You tried your best to walk straight home. In your head you were able to hold yourself up. You didn’t need Harry's help. But in reality, he was holding you up and laughing lowly to himself watching you wobble. He was only tipsy, never really been a lightweight. Once he was able to get you to your apartment, he helped you take your shoes off and tuck you in, once again. You were snoring instantly. He looked at you for few minutes and kissed you on your forehead before leaving to his own place. Exhausted, he undressed himself, completely nude, and went to bed.
~~~
"Fuck Har," you moaned as you pulled his hair from in between his legs. He groaned and only dug his tongue deeper into you. "I'm close"
You felt his cold rings digging into you around your thighs. Right as you felt your release coming on, a loud honking of the horn woke you up outside your window.
"Oh for gods sake." you smacked yourself on the forehead then instantly regretted it feeling your headache.
~~~
"Fuck y/n, I'm gonna cum" Harry grunted as he bucked his hips up hitting the back of your throat. You moaned and reached up to cup his balls. "Fuck I'm cu-"
A loud honking noise woke him up and he looked around him confused. He was sweating. He looked under his covers and remembered he was wearing absolutely nothing. His breathing was heavy as he got up to use the bathroom. He hopped into a cold shower before starting his day.
Harry: You up?
Y/n: Sadly. Wtf happened last night?
Harry: We drank too much. Can I come over for breakfast? I’ve run out of food.
Y/n: Yeah, door’s open. Pls don’t be loud.
A few mins later he walked in and opened your fridge. He saw you on the couch sitting down with your head back. He saw watermelon and decided to put some cubes in a bowl for himself. He sat next to you on the couch and you both said hi lowly. You had a banana in your lap and began eating it. Harry looked over at you in the exact moment you put it in your mouth. Looking away he stuffed his mouth with watermelon. You could hear the slurping sounds that sounded a lot like… you know.
"Do you have to slurp when you eat that?" you rolled your eyes.
"Do you have to take such big bites of the banana? It's not like I'm going to steal it." He said rolling his eyes.
Today's going to be such a long day…
Part 3 is now up!
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sabraeal · 4 years
Text
In Plain Sight, Chapter 4
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Written for @k-itsmaywriting​‘s birthday! I hope that, despite how weird the world is right now, you have an amazing day!
Shirayuki understands how this is supposed to work. She’s seem movies after all-- Witness, of course; Sister Act 1 & 2, if only because Opa thought Whoopie Goldberg was a national treasure and Oma thought she was too young to be watching Ghost; and Our Lips Are Sealed about eight times on video cassette, since she’s old enough (and Opa resisted DVD long enough) have both VCRs and wholesome Olsen twins content as a part of her childhood.
(Her favorite formative twins were Annie and Hallie from The Parent Trap; they were red-headed, just like her, and one of them had a British accent. She’d been devastated to find out that not only were both of them American, but they were also only one girl. She’d watched Double Trouble to console herself)
In any case, she knows how this goes, at least narratively. She lays down in this amazingly comfortable bed, stares up at the ceiling in a tense yet melancholy fashion for hours, and dreams in plot-relevant flashbacks. Extra points if they reference the crime she witnessed.
The problem is: she didn’t. She’s just the unfortunate collateral to her father’s personal redemption. All the life ruining without ever being part of the A plot.
There’s an upside though: the second she hits that firm cloud of a mattress, she’s out like a light.
Absolutely nothing wakes her, but Shirayuki jolts into consciousness anyway, as unpleasant as any false start. She expects to be confused; she’s not a graceful riser to begin with, and every morning in temporary housing, she’d bounce off three walls at minimum trying to find a bathroom that didn’t exist.
(Well, the bathroom did exist, it just didn’t exist where it should, which was down the hall to the right, and was compounded by the door being in exactly the wrong place too.)
Instead, she knows exactly where she is. Knowledge which is quickly followed by the low-key, seething resentment for the man who put her here.
She groans, lifting her head from the pillow. It’s fine. She’s fine. It’s just--
7:00, her alarm clock says. Tuesday, her brain provides after a long moment.
She should be getting up, habit told her. Getting her morning fix of avocado toast and orange juice with Paul Newman’s face stamped on it.
There’s worse ways to start your day than having a fine pair of eyes smiling at you, Oma would say.
What can I say? Opa’d grumble back, flipping through the paper. It’s impossible to compete with Butch Cassidy.
Her fingers curl into the sheets. There’d be none of that today. Agent Jiang-- Obi’s assistant had gotten her Simply Orange instead. A small mercy. It’s hard enough to be someone else when there’s still so much her clinging to the edges.
It’s tempting to linger in bed; she’s always been a morning person, up with the birds, but maybe Claire isn’t. Maybe Claire likes to stay up late and sleep in, sleeping past the three alarms she sets for herself. Maybe she likes to have waffles for breakfast, straight from a box, and drinks pomegranate juice. Maybe she doesn’t bike into the lab at eight because--
She groans. Because Claire doesn’t have a job. A thing that will have to change soon, since Claire has to pay for this house.
There’s a great deal of compromise that happens between bedside and bathroom; habit insists she needs to be fully dressed, ready to greet the day, but everything else--
Well, she’s not going anywhere is she? There’s no reason she couldn’t wallow in her pj’s all day
Standards, habit insists. But those belonged to Shirayuki, not Claire. Claire has no job, no friends, and nothing to do on a Tuesday morning besides--
Oh no, the recycling.
The bin is nearly two-thirds her height, but with only one day under her belt, it’s already overflowing. Good thing she’d looked at that brochure when it slipped out from between the takeout menus.
She shrugs her hoodie a little tighter, pulling it down over her leggings-- habit and hedonism settled on exercise wear as a happy medium-- and grips the handle, tugging it out the opening garage door, right into the fresh Texas morning--
And promptly throws her hoodie back into the garage. She might need that with the downright frosty temperature the house is set to, but oh, she was not going to cover her skin out here any more than necessary. Even now, she’s starting to sweat in impossible places beneath her leggings.
Hooking her palm back around the handle, she tugs the bin down the drive. Her gaze fixes to the pavement-- the last thing she needs is to trip right over herself on her own driveway taking out the trash-- and she doesn’t look up until she hits the sidewalk. It’s a struggle to get it to sit right-- these are proper curbs, white poured cement with squared edges meant to puncture cheeky tires; one of the wheels catches in a gap and refuses to budge until she hip checks it out onto the next slab.
She’s damp at this point, skin dewing with giant drops of sweat she’s tempted to shake off like a dog, but--
But Martha Kino has an arm slung along their fence, holding a tall glass of iced tea that makes her mouth water just to look at.
“Oh, um, good morning!” she calls out with a weak wave. “I didn’t, um, see you there.”
It’s only when Martha slides her gaze to her that she realizes her neighbor hadn’t been looking at her at all. Her mouth curves into a knowing smile at the sight of her. “Good morning, honey. You here for the show?”
Shirayuki blinks. “The show?”
“Mm-hm.” Martha takes a long drag from her straw, ice clinking against the glass. “Here it comes now.”
Shirayuki tracks her line of sight right across the cul-de-sac, squinting at half acre of immaculately trimmed, completely invasive Bermuda grass. Their front garden is well-kept, as well; thickly mulched with giant hibiscus blooming blood red against pristine stone facade.
Oh, and there’s a man as well. That’s probably what Mrs Kino is looking at.
He’s tall. No, tall is an understatement; he’s a giant, six foot four at least with shoulders to match. He’s trimmed with the same military precision as his lawn, clean shaven with an undercut that could scratch glass. Heavy brows draw sharply over his nose, forehead rumpling as he tears a box right down the fold--
Ah, well, all right. It’s not doing much of anything for her, but the Vitruvian man’s more ideal cousin ripping up boxes definitely counts as a show. Halfway through, he grabs the hem of his shirt, mopping his brow, and ah, hm, he could definitely have made money as an anatomical model. His rectus abdominis are, ah...very defined.
“Is he--” Shirayuki searches for the words-- “from around here?”
“Oh, him?” Martha’s gaze doesn’t stray for a second, not even as she sips at her tea. “That’s Scott. Aspen’s husband. They just moved in a few weeks ago.”
Shirayuki glances around the neighborhood. Seems like more than a few of her neighbors hope they’ll never leave either.
“Quite the pair, those two,” Martha hums. “She’ll be at the luncheon. I know you two will just get on like houses.”
More like houses on fire if she mentions she’s seen her husband’s floor show. “Oh, right. The um, luncheon.”
Mrs Kino grins as Scott hops back inside, out of this heat, just like she’s dying to do. “By the way, he mows the lawn on Sunday, just before lunch.”
“Oh, um, great.” She’ll be sure to miss it. “Can’t wait.”
It’s too early to bake cookies.
There’s not a baked good on earth that tastes as good two days later as it does fresh out of the oven; Shirayuki knows that down to her toes and bones, but still--
Stress baking. It’s a thing. And she doesn’t have to make anything right now. She could get all the ingredients together, just to make sure she has them. And then...just not do anything.
She can. Definitely. Absolutely. She’s Claire now. Claire probably doesn’t even like chocolate chip cookies.
Oh gosh, who is she kidding? Only monsters don’t like chocolate chip cookies. What next, Claire doesn’t like brownies? Apple pie? Snickerdoodles?
It’s a slippery slope, not liking things. Best to just keep it simple and eat everything, that’s what Opa always said at the church potluck.
The morsels and brown sugar already sit out on the counter when her phone lets out a piercing ting. She’s half tempted to ignore it; she’s having a contentious battle with the ten pounds of King Arthur flour that’s tucked away in her cabinet-- what was she thinking?-- and she refuses to show any fear in the face of baking supplies but--
Ting. No one knows her number. Well, no one except the government.She settles back on her heels with a sneeze. The government probably doesn’t take kindly to being left on read.
Her hands clap against her thighs, flour misting into the air as she leaves two partial prints right over the helical print. She frowns, plucking at the fabric, nose wrinkling as more powder burst into the air. Ting.
“I’m coming,” she mutters, stumbling over to the island. “I’m coming.”
Sugar Daddy i got just what u need pumpkin check ur email
The corners of her mouth dig furrows into her cheeks as she clicks on the notification. It’s the only message in her inbox, aside from the ubiquitous Welcome to Gmail spam and a few coupons for Banana Republic and a couple of other retailers. They’d taught her about this at orientation; they couldn’t do much about an empty inbox, but everyone had at least a few mailing lists they’d either forgotten to opt out of or regularly used.
Still...what about her said Banana Republic? She glances down at her spandex-clad legs. If they were going to go for a too-expensive clothing line, they could have at least sprung for Lululemon.
Ah, but that wasn’t the point. Marshal Jiang-- Obi hadn’t texted all...that...to show off some spam. Sitting at the very top of her inbox is a Cornell email address-- Cornell-- with an attachment.
Dear Claire, the message reads, We’re so sorry to see you go, but I’m glad we’re able to keep in touch. Of course we kept the copy of your old CV. Good luck to you in all your endeavors.
It’s signed by some professor; not high profile enough for her to have heard of, but she doesn’t doubt that he’s real, someone a curious party could look up on Cornell’s directory. Well, at least for the next six months.
The Columbia alumna inside her writhes in agony. Cornell. She doubts it’s a coincidence.
Me Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me?
Not that she’s very, um, up on the specifics of such a relationship, but she’d been under the impression that sugar...children?...were supposed to be fully reliant on their sugar parent. Her mouth pulls thin. Already she’s thinking about this far more than she’d ever hope to.
Sugar Daddy a good daddy makes sure his baby can take care of herself ;)
This declaration is followed by a stream of emojis, ending with an eggplant and a peach, and she just-- doesn’t need to know. She wipes away the sweat that beads at her hairline-- from embarrassment, of course-- and downloads the attachment.
Me I’ll take a look. Thank you.
She sets the phone back on the island, face down, and glares. He can’t possibly be like this to everyone. People would complain. They wouldn’t just let him insinuate that he-- that they--
Ting.
Sugar Daddy good girl
All right. Maybe they would.
Shirayuki doesn't get homesick.
She’d been the first brownie to leap out of her car at summer camp; Opa barely had time to lurch into park before she was traipsing across the field, backpack slung over her shoulder and duffel bag dragging on the grass. Freshman year, she moved into the dorm by herself, pressing kisses to wrinkled cheeks as she lugged her suitcases onto the train; she’d almost forgotten to wave from the window.
But as soon as she lays down in bed, the lights snuffed out and the world still, it hits her. Just a soft roll of her stomach at first, the barest itch on her skin, like wearing a wool sweater on a spring afternoon. It’s fine; too much to ignore but nothing that would keep her up too long.
It doesn’t stay that way.
Her stomach clenches, tears pricking at her eyes, and it’s everything she can do to just roll onto her side, letting the chills wrack through her body. She shivers so hard her teeth chatter, and this-- this isn’t the gentle ache of nostalgia her books prepared her for. This is an illness, plain and simple, like when she caught norovirus in eighth grade can could hardly do anything but lay on the bathroom floor and wait for the next wave to begin.
This isn’t her, she isn’t like this, she doesn’t get like this, but-- but--
Before she always knew her home was waiting for her; she could leave but Oma and Opa would always keep the front lamp on, waiting for weary travelers and last minute bookings.
It’s different now that there’s no home to come back to.
7:00, her alarm clock says. She watches it tick over, like she has for every hour before it.
She must have slept at some point; it’s impossible that she’s lain awake, staring at the clock for eight hours. But that doesn’t make her any less tired, and so when her alarm starts up, beeps cutting through the quiet white noise of the air conditioner, she reaches out and slaps it off.
Shirayuki may not sleep in, but Claire is certainly warming to the idea.
Her notebook sits open on the island; neat, looping script stretches across the page, straining the boundaries of the blue lines that contains it. She’d done her homework yesterday, combing through job sites to find the most likely candidates. There’s five on her list right now, ranked according to preference, and oh, is Shirayuki glad she had the gumption to do this before, because this morning she feels like roadkill being scraped off the blacktop.
Still, she worries at her lip as her laptop boots up, peering over her list. In the cold light of the morning, five seems too few, but...desperation hasn’t set in yet. She’s allowed to still have standards.
Wrapping her hands around her mug, she glances at the next page: another list. No, a set of instructions. Edit CV. Write cover letters.
Shirayuki groans. Even with the bullet points she left for herself, composing cover letters is a circle of hell all its own. With only three hours of solid sleep under her belt, it’s an insurmountable hurdle to getting hired.
“Right,” she murmurs, hooking an ankle around a stool and pulling it under her. “Editing it is.”
She clicks on the pdf Obi sent her, scrolling down and--
“Oh no.” She rears back from the screen, heart pounding. “No, no. There’s got to be a mistake...”
“Hey, baby,” Obi’s voice rumbles through her speaker. It’s thick and warm and would be utterly distracting if she were in any less of a crisis. “A little early for a b--?”
“What happened to my papers?”
“Uh.” All the suggestion in his tone evaporates. “What?”
“My papers.” Her hand grips the phone so tight it creaks. “They’re gone.”
His end goes silent. Silent enough to make that weird click, like the line’s cut out, and she pulls back to check--
“Someone stole your passport?” He laughs, incredulous. “Some sort of luck you have, Miss. Barely had it for a day and already you’ve gotten your identity stolen.”
She blinks into the barren air of her kitchen. “What?”
“You know,” he hums, too amused, “I picked out a cute house in the suburbs for safety, and here you are, getting robbed. Did you leave them in your car? Or did you just go out--”
“N-no!” She’s honestly half tempted to say what car, until she remembers the tasteful mid-sized SUV in the driveway, the one she’s still been calling the girlfriend car in her head, and realizes-- it’s hers. She’s the girlfriend.
Except she’s not. At all. Which is fine! She doesn’t even want that! If she’s still thinking about what his mouth feels like as he wraps them around his words, then--
She really can’t be thinking about this right now. “I mean my papers! I just looked at my CV and it’s a page!”
He hesitates, though not enough for the line to click again. “Isn’t that long enough?”
“CVs aren’t resumes,” she informs him patiently, pen twisting between her fingers. “They’re dick measuring contests--”
Her teeth snap around the words, but oh, it’s too late. They’re already out there in the aether, and he’s laughing.
“Now there’s something I didn’t think I’d hear out of you, Miss.” He doesn’t need to sound so pleased about it.
“It’s something my old PI used to say,” she mutters. Oh, Garak would be so proud of herself if she knew. “It’s not very polite, but she’s not, um, wrong.”
“I’m sorry the US government made you under endowed.” His words practically rattle as he says them. “It’s not the size that matters, Miss, but how you use it.”
“Obi,” she huffs. “All the work I’ve done for the past ten years of my life now is attributed to my birth name and my birth name only! According to this CV I have the same level of experience, but less papers than an undergrad! And you can’t tell me that any of these are searchable on PubMed.”
And none of them are first authors, is what she doesn’t say. It’s a petty thing to worry about when her entire academic career is functionally extinct.
“Hm.” His fingers drum quickly on a table. Desk? It’s strange not knowing anything about the man who is her only lifeline. “I’ll look into it.”
“I don’t want to be, um, alarmist, but I can’t get a job with this.” Her hand shakes as she scrolls down her screen. “No one is going to hire a post-doc with a one page CV.”
“Don’t worry, Miss. There’s a plan for this, somewhere.” She can feel his grin when he says, “You can’t be the first academic who’s had to go into hiding.”
She smiles, despite herself. “Considering some of the conferences I’ve been to, I can believe it.”
“Besides, you could always apply to pharmaceuticals.” The very word is like a donkey kick to her gut. “The pay’s supposed to be better--”
“I can’t work for Big Pharma.”
He hesitates. “You...can’t?”
“Obi, they make little old grandmas pay eight hundred dollars for insulin!” She presses a hand to her chest. “Banting and Best didn’t sell the patent for one dollar so that people could get gouged by--”
“I get it, I get it,” he assured her. “Preaching to the choir. But as a safety, I’m sure you could find one that isn’t stealing candy from babies.”
She huffs. “I doubt it.”
He rasps out a laugh. “I’ll see what I can do. As I said, can’t be the first PhD on the lam.”
Her mouth twitches. “Just yours?”
“You are certainly some kind of education, Miss.” He hums. “Give me a day. See what I can turn up.”
“You have two,” she informs him magnanimously. “I have the luncheon tomorrow.”
“Oh, right.” She doesn’t need to see him to know he’s lounging, smug like a cat post-canary. “Looking forward to joining the neighborhood’s Ladies’ Committee?”
“Ha ha,” she drawls flatly. “Very funny.”
He is unnervingly silent on the other end.
“You’re kidding, right?” Her voice certainly does not fill with a nervous quaver. “You guys don’t have things like that around here.”
Obi hums, humoring her.
“W-what would they even do?” She picks nervously at the sticker on her laptop, prying up part of NVIDIA. “Plan potlucks? Organize the Neighborhood Watch? Cotillions?”
She doesn’t know how he makes his grin so palpable over 4G. “Looking forward to your debut, Miss?”
Shirayuki scowls down at her screen. “I think I’m firmly up on the shelf, thank you. Now if you don’t mind, I have cookies to make.”
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Text
Life is Never what you Expect Chapter 4 Word Count: 3019
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It was almost seven-thirty in the morning. Henrik was reaching for the door to leave for work when Anti came downstairs. “Where are you going?” the doctor questioned as Anti headed down the hall where most of the bedrooms were located. The vampire didn't respond and, wary of what he was going to do, Henrik followed after him.
Anti searched for the faint smell of alcohol by each of the doors. Upon thinking he found the one he was looking for, Anti opened the door and stepped inside. Once there he spotted Chase curled up in bed. He gave a slight tap on the door before walking over to the bed. Leaning over him, he said, “Get up or you will never see your kids again.” Anti moved back just as Chase jerked up in a panic.
Chase was about to move to get up when his eyes landed on Anti. Still in panic mode, he hurriedly asked, “What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“Seven... thirty.” Realization started to settle in as his panic subsided. “Ugh. You're an asshole...” he grumbled before complaining about not feeling well. Anti got up and headed to the door. “I could've slept for a couple more hours...”
Without turning, Anti told him, “I'm not coming back.” As he left the room, Anti spotted Henrik lingering just outside the room. He glanced at the doctor as he walked past him but said nothing.
Henrik glanced back to Chase's room before following after Anti. Once he caught up he grabbed his arm. “What did you do?” he demanded in a hushed tone.
Turning to face him Anti asked, “Why do you think I did something?”
Letting go of his arm, Henrik lifted his hand and pointed a finger at Anti. “I don't trust you. Not when you can and will take what you want without consent.”
“Oh is that right?” Anti grinned, making sure his fangs were visible. “Then maybe I should have helped myself last night.” Henrik stiffened at the implication. “When your dear friend Chase was drowning himself under whiskey and stress. It would have been easy. And easier yet to keep his cries and screams quiet while everyone slept peacefully in their beds.” Henrik's heart-rate quickened but he remained where he was. “Is that fear I sense?” Anti questioned as he moved to step forward, while Henrik instinctively stepped back. “I am curious how your fear would taste.” Then, suddenly, his posture slackened and his threatening demeanor vanished. “But... I gave Jack my word. And I intend to keep it.” With that he turned and walked away.
Henrik stood frozen in place. His mind racing, unsure how to feel, what to think. He jumped when someone asked if he was alright. Turning he noticed Chase staring tiredly at him with an arm around his stomach. “Yeah.” Henrik swallowed. “I should go so I'm not late to work.” Chase offered a small smile and nodded. Just as the doctor went to leave he stopped and turned back to his friend. “Are you alright? You do not look well.”
“I...” He sighed and looked away before he continued. “I had more to drink than I should have last night. I know you told me not to,” Chase mumbled. “But I was too stressed to sleep.”
“Chase, it's alright,” Henrik told him. “But since you are up early, you should focus on feeling better.” Chase muttered an I know.
There was a brief moment of silence. “Hey, Henrik? What kind of advice can you give?”
Henrik paused for a second before saying, “Eat something and don't be late.”
Chase almost laughed. An honest smile touched his lips. “Thanks. But don't be late is advice you should follow too.”
“I'll be sure to remember that,” Henrik stated, a bit of amusement coming through in his voice before he stated that he was leaving. Chase waved him off before he stepped into the bathroom.
Once he was finished in the bathroom, Chase shuffled back to his room with a towel around his waist and damp hair. He rummaged through his dresser to find some nice clothes, something that would be appropriate to wear to the court house. After finally finding something that wasn't too wrinkled, Chase let his thoughts wonder a bit as he got dressed. Despite his methods, Chase was thankful that Anti woke him up. Since now he had a little under two hours before he had to leave. Which meant he still had time to eat. If he would have woken up on his own, it was likely he wouldn't have been up on time...
Leaving his room, Chase decided he should thank Anti for getting him up. Looking around the living room and kitchen but Anti wasn't in either place. Turning to Marvin, who was looking through one of the cabinets, Chase asked, “Hey, Marvin?”
Looking back, Marvin smiled. “Hey. Good morning.”
“Morning. Have you seen Anti?”
Shaking his head, Marvin told him, “No. Maybe he's still asleep?”
“I doubt it. He woke me up like...” Chase looked up at the clock hanging in the dining room. “Forty minutes ago.”
Marvin shrugged. “I don't know. I haven't seen him.” Turning back to the contents of the cabinet, he asked, “You want me to make you some breakfast?”
“Mm... I think I'm just gonna have some cereal,” Chase told him as he headed over to see what kinds they had.
Glancing over at him, Marvin asked, “Are you sure? I can make you some waffles. I'm sure you have time for that, right?”
Chase paused, thinking. “Yeah. Okay, sure.” He stepped away from the cabinet he was at to get a glass from one of the other ones. As he filled it with water, Marvin collected what he needed to make waffles.
Just as Chase sat down at the table, Marvin spoke up again. “I don't suppose you know who cleaned the kitchen last night?” Chase looked over at him. “As far as I knew Jackie and I were the last ones up.”
“Well, I...” he paused and Marvin glanced back at him as he pulled his hair back into a ponytail. “I was up drinking last night but it wasn't me.” He thought for a second before adding, “Maybe it was Anti? He came down after I was up for awhile. Don't know when he went to bed since I crashed before he went back upstairs.”
“He said he did most of the cleaning at home,” Marvin said as he turned his attention back to cooking. “But I didn't expect him to do it late at night...”
Maybe Anti really was asleep, Chase wondered. If he really did stay up late to clean that is. But if that was the case then did he really get up just to make sure Chase was awake on time? Anti was kinda weird and they got off on a strange first impression, but he wasn't a bad guy. Taking a drink from his glass, Chase tried to block-out his headache. Glancing back into the kitchen he spotted the bag of chocolate chips. Looking away, he hoped Marvin didn't notice; because if he did that meant Chase ruined the surprise. Though it really isn't much of a surprise since Marvin had a tendency to want to spoil them by cooking their favorite meals.
“How are you holding up?” Marvin asked after the two were quiet for awhile.
Chase looked over at him to see him watching him as the waffles cooked. Turning away and back to the glass of water he held onto, Chase told him, “As well as I can...” He fell quiet. Marvin turned and removed the waffle from the maker and set it on a plate before prepping the next one. “I already know she's gonna say I don't deserve to have the kids since I left but... what was I supposed to do?” he asked as he looked up at Marvin who stepped over with the plate and utensils in one hand and the syrup in the other.
“I don't know,” Marvin told him softly while setting down the plate and utensils in front of him, while receiving a muttered thanks. He lingered by the table as he continued. “I can't begin to determine what should've been done. But to be honest, that isn't what's important. What you should do is focus on how you're going to prove to them that, not only do you love your kids but are capable of taking care of them.”
“Yeah...” He looked down at the food in front of him. Marvin stepped back into the kitchen to check on the other waffle. “But, how do you prove something like that..?” he wondered, more to himself than to anyone else, before reaching for the syrup so he could start eating.
Marvin looked over at his friend with a hint of sadness. There really wasn't anything he could do to help him; since he didn't know anything about the type of situation he was in. All he could do was make one of his favorite kinds of breakfast and offer him what little support he could. He finished cooking up the rest of the batter before going to sit down with him, bringing over the plate of waffles as well as a plate and silverware for himself.
“Thanks, by the way,” Chase commented as he leaned forward to collect another waffle. Marvin looked up. Whether Chase noticed this or not he continued. “For making my favorite kind of waffles I mean.”
“Oh. You don't-”
“Seriously. It means a lot. I'm sure I wasn't the easiest person to deal with. I mean, right now I'm an anxious mess.” Marvin looked past him for a second but remained quiet as Chase continued talking. “I'm just expecting everything to go wrong. You know, worst case scenario.” It almost sounded like he wanted to laugh. “But, I guess either way it's going to be over after today...”
“No way.” Chase jumped and looked back. Jackie lingered by the kitchen counter. “After today, no matter what happens, it's just the beginning.”
Chase and Marvin were quiet for a moment before Chase let out a laugh. “Geez, man, you sound so serious.”
A smile came to Jackie lips. “Yeah, sorry. Didn't mean for it to sound like that,” he said with a laugh. “Oh, hey, you made waffles. Can... I have some?” he asked glancing between the two.
“Yeah, go for it. I don't think I can eat much more,” Chase told him, oblivious to the sudden change in tone.
“Awesome! Marvin makes the best waffles.”
Marvin gave a huff; his expression giving way to a bit of amusement. “Uh-huh. What are you kissing up for?”
“What?” Jackie nearly gasped in surprise as he sat down next to Chase with a plate and silverware. “Why would you accuse me of that?” he asked as he took a waffle from the pile and put it on his plate.
“I don't know. Maybe 'cause you've done it before,” Marvin told him before sticking a piece of his own waffle in his mouth.
“Okay, so I've done it before, but that doesn't mean I'm doing it now,” Jackie told him as he finished drowning his waffle in syrup. And since Marvin didn't comment to that, they sat in silence. Chase was picking at the last quarter of his waffle, debating if he was going to try to finish it, while Jackie started to cut his. “Soo,” Jackie spoke as he was about to stick a piece in his mouth. “When are you going to make brownies again?”
Marvin, exasperated, dropped his silverware on his plate and threw his hands up. “I knew it!” Jackie managed to hold back a laugh at the response. Marvin nearly sighed. “Why don't you make them yourself?”
“But they turn out better when you make them,” Jackie told him. “Taste better too.”
“... You know I'm not the only one who knows how to cook right?”
Jackie was quiet as he thought for a moment. After he swallowed the piece of food he had stuck in his mouth, he asked, “Well, Henrik is always busy... Does Jameson know how to make brownies?”
Marvin motioned behind Jackie. “You can ask him.”
Jackie twisted in his seat and saw a confused Jameson walk in the room. “Jameson, do you know how to make brownies?”
“I have made them before, yes. Though, it has been awhile,” Jameson informed him. Jackie's excitement faded when he added, “And I do not quite remember how.”
Turning back to Marvin, Jackie nearly pleaded with him to make brownies again. Finally, Marvin sighed. “I'll think about it.” Though it was likely just to get Jackie to drop it for now. Which must have worked since Jackie seemed satisfied with that answer and resumed eating. Marvin, turning his attention to Jameson, asked his friend to join them for breakfast. Jameson glanced to the table to see the waffles. “They're chocolate chip.”
With a glance to Chase, Jameson said, “I suppose I could have one.” He collected a plate and some silverware before sitting down with the others. Chocolate chip was not very high on Jameson's preferred list for waffles, but he wanted to stay and eat with them before Chase had to leave. After adding some syrup he began to cut up his meal. As he cut the waffle into easy to eat pieces, Jameson spoke up. “Are there any plans for today?”
“I have classes to go to later,” Jackie told them. “Don't know yet if I'm gonna be back in time for dinner.”
“Let me know so I know how many people I should plan for,” Marvin told him. Jackie told him he'd try to remember.
Chase, after glancing at the clock, pushed his chair back while saying, “I gotta go. I wanna try to get there early.” He dumped the last few bites left on his plate into the trash bin.
“Chase.” Chase paused at looked back to Jameson. “It will turn out alright. I'm sure of it.”
A small smile touched Chase's lips. “Thanks.” He set his plate down by the sink before heading off to the door, only taking a moment to put on his shoes and give a wave to the others before leaving.
It was quiet after he left. The others silently worried about their friend. Jackie couldn't take the silence anymore. “What about you guys?” Marvin and Jameson looked up. “You doing anything?”
“Well... it's Friday, so I'm going to do some grocery shopping,” Marvin spoke up.
Jameson turned to Marvin. “If you would like help, I could go with you.”
“Won't you be busy?”
“I was thinking of taking the day off.”
“In that case, I don't mind the company. Since it looks like it's going to be a nice day out, we should see if Anti wants to join us.” Jameson agreed. The three chatted for a bit as they finished eating. Marvin got up to take care of the dishes and package up the leftover waffles before coming back with a pen and paper so he could get their input on the shopping list.
Anti lounged on the futon, with his hands resting behind his head and his eyes closed. He hadn't bothered to pull the futon out into a bed. The curtains were pulled closed, protecting him from the morning sun. He was actually rather content, though had no plans to leave the room. After some time passed there was a light knock on his door. “Anti?” It was said quietly, presumably thinking he was asleep.
He sighed. “I'm awake.”
Marvin cracked the door open. When he noticed Anti on the futon, he pushed to door open more. “...It's nice out, don't you want to open the curtains?”
“No.”
There was a pause and Anti waited to see what the other man actually came to see him about. “You feel up to leaving the house and joining Jameson and I to do some shopping?”
“Not really.” Anti could see that he wanted to say something more. Marvin didn't speak up right away, but when he did...
“Should I... just leave you alone?”
Anti sighed and sat up. “I don't hate you if that's what you're wondering.”
“I wasn't-”
“I don't like going out much. And I don't see that changing,” Anti told him.
“Okay...” Marvin didn't want to push him. “Would you want to do something later then?”
“More card games?” Anti questioned.
“If you want to. We do have multiplayer video games we can play,” Marvin suggested.
Anti stared at him for a minute before saying, “You don't have to try so hard.” Marvin opened his mouth to speak but stopped and instead let out a sigh. “Don't feel like you have to come talk to me either. Now go do your shopping.”
There was a moment of hesitation before Marvin turned to leave but stopped. Glancing back in the room he said, “Thank you for cleaning the kitchen.”
“Yeah.” When Marvin didn't leave right away, Anti glanced up at him and their eyes met for a second before Marvin gave a smile then turned walking back down the hall. Anti shook his head after the other man left. This week would be easier if they would all leave him alone. But, he had a feeling that wouldn't happen.
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crutchie-with-a-y · 5 years
Text
saturday mornings-newsies headcanons
aright so ive been falling behind on @newsiestober, but this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile so i thought i’d get it out there. enjoy!
first one up is usually race or jack
jack usually just wakes up and starts drawing/painting
race often goes on walks around, running erands or just taking a walk around the city and smoking. 
next up is specs, and he likes to make breakfast!
he often will start coffee, they use a coffee pot because keurigs are expensive and wasteful
and then he will bake something. pancakes are what he started with, and it took him awhile to get the hang of it, but he eventually got the hang of it, and the younger newsies like to help him add things to the batter. 
he’ll lift them up to the stove and they’ll sprinkle in chocolate chips, blueberrys, nuts, coconut, etc. 
he actually really likes baking/cooking and he has been making more complex things on some weekends, like crepes and croissants. but pancakes are always good ;)
the newsies got him a double waffle maker for his birthday and he almost cried he was so happy
Crutchie will get up and go play with the younger newsies and/or talk to specs while he makes breakfast
if katherine had stayed over, she will get up and work on her articles, typing up a storm until Crutchie comes in with a cup of coffee for her and to chat.
if she hasn’t stayed over, she comes over every morning, always bringing some kind of treat, whether its a tub of donut holes or a box of chalk or a promise to order Chinese food for lunch
The jacobs kids usually sleep over on friday nights, but if they don’t they get up super early and dash across the city to get there while the coffee is still warm, their mother usually sending them with a container of sugar and/or cream or a bag of coffee to contribute. 
When they do stay over, sarah will get up and make her way around the house, offering help to anyone she can, whether its specs with the food, race with errands, katherine with her articles, start another pot of coffee, play with the kids with crutchie, etc.
Les will usually cook with specs or go play with the other younger newsies
Davey always ignites passionate conversation wherever he goes so
usually albert will be up sitting on the front stoop with race when the jacobs get there or when they wake up, so davey and them will talk politics
and eventually they migrate to the kitchen for coffee,
and knowing what’s going to happen specs pauses whatever podcast he’s listening to at the moment
 and the other older newsies will join in on albert and daveys convo, talking about the most recent news, davey filling them in on anything they’ve missed
eventually jack will come down and join them in their conversation, or if they’re involved in a show with Medda, he’ll come down and go 
“How are those lines going everyone?” 
and everyones eyes will go wide and they’ll all go dashing to find their scripts and start running lines 
specs is playfully practicing the choreo, spinning and leaping from the counter to the stove and craning his neck to look at the script laying on the counter as he flips pancakes or checks something in the oven
they’ll practice sword fights with spatulas, specs hollering 
“WATCH THE ICING” “IF YOU HIT THAT FRYING PAN WITH YOUR SPATULA I WILL MURDER YOU WITH IT” 
around this time spot will come stumbling through the door, he works the late shift at a pizza place on friday nights
so hes exhausted, but still comes into the kitchen and fills a mug with coffee, talking with them or just sitting with his head in his hands, depending on how tired he is
Eventually tho, after lots of laughs and several pots of coffee, breakfast is ready
everyone grabs a plate from the dishrack or cabinet and lines up to get there serving
or runs to the table while specs carries in a steaming platter 
everyone makes sure to thank specs and rave about whatever he’s made
it’s always delicious
the house just gives off amazing vibes on saturday mornings man
warm smells, children laughing, deep conversation
it gives off family vibes <3
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cadday · 4 years
Text
Collateral Damage Chapter 8
For a while everything just returns to routine. He gets up, goes on guard duty or assists infrequently in the labs, which really translates to picking at Even. Some days he trains with Dilan and Aeleus, some days he just trains the brat Lea, who is okay to have hang around when he isn’t mooning over the Isa. He sometimes asks his other heart resident questions and she answers kinda vaguely but from what he can tell she’s older than him somehow, and knows Luxu at least by name. She is also a key bearer who isn’t keen on Luxu doing whatever it is Luxu is doing. So makes her an ally. Which is good. What’s not good is her heart not getting much stronger and she sleeps most of the time more out of necessity then anything else. He worries she’s going to just vanish one of these days and there won’t be much else to be done about it.
Besides he concerns Radiant Garden remains, well, radiant. It shows no signs of falling to darkness as it is, and the few heartless interlopers they dispatch are few and weak. Braig still gets fidgety for days when they appear and he lurks in the courtyard until he catches sight of the little redhead girl on days where he thinks there are too many. She doesn’t ever seem to be in danger or missing from action so he tries to relax and stay some semblance of positive.
It’s freaking storming when things go wrong, because of course it is. It’s been more than a month since he’d been restored to just Braig and he should have known not to let his guard down.
At first Braig is loitering around the library, Ienzo was reading and Braig, with some assistance from Lea and Isa after he egged them on enough, had built a book fort around the other boy. They were trying to figure out the best way to make a doorway that didn’t collapse immediately when Aeleus came in the room, soaking wet and a little worse for wear.
“Braig something’s happened…” He’s up and running out of the library before Aeleus gets much more out. The man is hot on his heels though and quickly catches up to him to keep pace.
“Master Ansem, Even, and Dilan went ahead. They sent me back to get you, some little girl showed up in the storm and said that monsters had attacked them.” They ran out the door and into the storm and Braig cringed at the lack of visibility. Aeleus steered them off towards the residential districts and they slowed down when they were greeted by several people loitering around their doorways looking on concerned. They spotted Master Ansem, and Even at a smaller house down the street. The little girl was their clinging with Even’s labcoat wrapped around her awkwardly. They were all soaked from the rain and Even was kneeling next to the girl talking about something with a serious expression. Master Ansem looked less than happy.
“What happened?” They skidded to a stop and Braig noticed the house's windows were all shattered. He cringed before looking back at Ansem.
“The heartless returned and…” He glanced at the girl before frowning and stopping his thought. Braig could only guess that there was a reason the kid’s grandma wasn’t around. Dilan came out of the house then looking grim, he shook his head and Braig tried not to wonder if he could have prevented this. He felt something hit his leg and he stumbled a bit startled. Looking down he was greeted by the girl clinging to him for dear life. Master Ansem sighed.
“Now Kairi, it is going to be okay,” Ansem looked back at the house and shook his head. “She will have to return with us until other arrangements are made, we should at least get out of the rain before we all catch a cold.” Braig watched the rest of the apprentices watch the girl, Kairi, unsure of how to proceed and he sighed before picking her up.
“Well let’s go then. It’s freaking cold out here and I don’t fancy getting struck by lightning.”
The trek back to the castle was mostly quiet and Braig tried not to think about how young Kairi was and how she wasn’t much older in the time he had already lived through. Back in the castle Isa, Lea, and Ienzo were loitering around the entrance trying to not look concerned when they came back soaking wet with another kid. Master Ansem waved them off though, which only meant they kept lingering in doorways as they all took turns getting dried off and keeping an eye on Kairi. She was really quiet and Even said it was most likely shock. At some point Ienzo, Lea, and Isa had begun dragging in pillows and blankets, and a very ridiculous teddy bear to pile around her and eventually they all took to laying around the sitting room he was holed up in waiting to see what happened. Dilan and Aeleus had gone back to the street to see if anything else had been attacked or anyone for that matter. Even was falling into the role of fussing Dad again as he kept checking Kairi’s temperature and fussing around the sitting room until Braig got so frustrated with his fidgeting around he tripped him into the seat next to him. Braig was just sitting. Master Ansem had commented about Kairi seeming to recognize him and Braig mentioned meeting her on patrol, which apparently meant he wanted to help babysit. Honestly he preferred this to returning to the street, for one the rain sucked, but mainly he was having a hard time coping with, well this failure. Heartless taking hearts could mean Radiant Garden could still fall, albeit slower. Without the machine it could give them more time to stop it.
He would have to teach Kairi how to summon the keyblade. Braig didn’t really have much choice. The heart sent a feeling of agreement and he frowned slightly. Not right now though. The kid needed time to cope and Braig needed to figure out how he was going to explain any of this to the other’s if and probably when they found out what he was up to. Sure he would be able to explain training the kid as concern for her well being but well when the keyblade shows up there will probably be some questions. Eventually Dilan and Aeleus return with less than stellar news. Two families were missing from nearby houses as well as an older gentleman who lived alone next door. Broken windows and in one house the dining room looked like it had been splintered into a hundred pieces.
Braig wanted to hit his head on the wall. Instead he helped send the brat’s to their rooms for the night and helped Even as he set Kairi up in a guest room. She still wasn’t talking but their was not much else they could do tonight. Braig hoped the sunrise would bring a positive light back to the world.
“Kid my rooms two halls away okay, a left into the big hall and then another left. I’m the first door on the right. You need anything feel free to wake me up. If you can’t find me feel free to just yell until someone finds you. Lea yells when he's lost all the time as well so everyones used to it.” Kairi didn’t even look at him so he sighed, “Good night kid.” He shut the door and headed to his room to turn in.
The next week Master Ansem sets about trying to find a place for Kairi, and after exhausting family and friends as being unable or otherwise not around anymore, Kairi becomes a fixture in the castle. Which is convenient for Braig but makes Even get dramatically aggravated for a while even as he personally makes her and Ienzo chocolate chip waffles for breakfast that morning and then takes them shopping to get Kairi some things for her new room. Kairi is so little and it takes her some time to adjust as much as it does them.
She has nightmares. Screaming, crying terrors, in the middle of the night. They take turns based on who gets to her first really to calm her down. Aeleus buys her a night light shaped like a star. It changes colors and seems to help a bit.
Lea and Kairi get along remarkably well. He carries her everywhere and Isa indulges her just as much because it makes Lea light up like the freaking sun when he does.
Ienzo shows Kairi books and stories, and reads to her a lot. She likes stories of worlds, and different places. Stuff with happy endings and magical creatures. Her favorites have dragons, and her least favorites have princesses locked away or sleeping. The kids though are okay and Braig feels a little hopeful again. Seeing Kairi with the other kids though reminds him this kid is way too little to be fighting anything.
‘not safe if she can’t fight.’ And his weird heart friend is right but it still doesn’t make it suck any less. So Braig out of spite and because frisbees are not weapons, buys Isa and Lea real weapons. He gets a lecture for it about safety, sights christmas presents only to be told it’s the middle of summer but who cares, they were training them to fight anyway. Isa is not really thrilled at being given a weapon, he gets a sword because braig figures it’s close enough to what he used later and giving a teen a claymore seemed like the road to injury. Lea gets chakrams, because he can’t think of anything else to get the kid, but they're plain compared to the memories warring in his head and little more than bladed circles. The little turd actually complains they lack style and he tells him he can have nicer ones when he can use those properly.
Ienzo gets a book on magic because he feels guilty buying the other twerps things and not the younger boy. Ienzo seems at least happy with it and Even is just happy he didn’t get Ienzo a sharp thing he thinks.
Training Lea and Isa is equal parts awful and hilarious. They tend to alternate between being motivated and lazy and he finds while Lea’s style he get’s, kids bendy and fast and he can work with that, Isa kinda fights like he’s trying to break everything into a million pieces, for being so calm Isa has a temper just as much as Lea in a fight. So he starts dragging Dilan and Aeleus into training, and then pushing the little berserker in their direction.
This is fine for a while and he feels better when they all can defend themselves adequately. Heartless still came and went, they kept an eye on darker days and there were casualties but few and far between.
As time moves on Braig feels a little better about the changes, and starts to think less of what hasn’t happened. Aqua never does return, and he assumes the worst and adds it to his growing list of failures. Years pass and he teaches Kairi to summon the keyblade, with the guidance of the other heart, under the guise of meditation or some bologna. She proceeds to run around the castle showing everyone her giant flowery key. He pushes Even in the right direction into understanding what it’s for and not before long Kairi under strict supervision is riding Radiant Garden of heartless. They take turns going on jobs with her and the kid turns out to be a scrappy little thing in a fight. She’s all quick movements and dancing away from attacks. Lea likes sparring with her the most and they spend hours in complicated spars trying to wear the other out.
Braig still feel’s tense though and as he watches the kids grow up they get closer to another major point in his time that hasn’t happened. Ansem Seeker of Darkness might not even exist in this world, no Xehanort Terra meant no Xemnas so really they shouldn’t have anything to worry about...
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antiquecompass · 4 years
Text
Another Wen Ning/Aidan fic, this one set a few years after this others, for Untamed Winter Fest Day 19: Snow
“SNOW DAY!”
Wen Ning shot up in bed, woken not by his alarm but by Finn Delaney’s best example of his outdoor voice.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Aidan muttered into his pillow. 
Wen Ning patted his boyfriend’s back with one hand and reached over to check his phone with the other. The text he found there showed that it was, in fact, a rare Lan Academy snow day. He wasn’t entirely surprised. It was six in the morning, Aidan had only been home for two hours. He’d just finished a 48-hour shift, having spent the night responding to emergency calls, helping out all the other First Responders in their own and the surrounding counties. Even hard born and bred Massholes had to bow down to Mother Nature on the rare occasion. Even Lan Academy had to as well. 
“Go back to sleep,” he said as he slipped out of bed. 
“I’m awake now,” Aidan said.
Wen Ning forcibly pushed Aidan back into bed. “You spent the night responding to accidents and helping dig cars out of snowbanks. You’re exhausted. Go back to sleep.”
“But--”
“Sleep,” he said. He pulled the blankets up and tucked them tight around Aidan. “You know you have to sleep while you can. You should’ve stayed at the station.”
“I wanted to see you,” Aidan said.
So sweet and so sincere. Wen Ning kissed his forehead. “I love you and I appreciate it, but now I’m going to have to dig your truck out so you can get back on the road.”
“Did you just politely call me a dumbass?” Aidan asked.
Wen Ning kissed his forehead again and started towards the hallway.
“Ning!”
He laughed as he closed the door behind him and stopped Finn’s latest attempt to announce to the entirely of Western Massachusetts that it was a snow day.
“Since you’re up, you can help me dig out your brother’s car.”
“Coach!” Finn whined. “It’s a snow day!”
“I’ll make you pancakes after,” he said.
Finn eyed him with that typical Delaney ‘I Smell Bullshit’ face, but Wen Ning knew his pancakes were a worthy bribe. 
“With chocolate chips?” Finn asked.
Wen Ning pretended to think about it. “I’ll consider it. Depends on how well you work. Good work gets chocolate chips. Half-assing gets you frozen waffles.”
“Deal,” Finn said. 
Una opened her bedroom door, hair still wet from her shower, voice still stuffy from her current cold. “How can I get pancakes?”
“Start gathering all the supplies to make chilli for the station,” he said.
He knocked on Aisling’s door. She opened it, already in her winter gear, minus her boots.
“I’m preparing for the snow battle that will commence at Noon,” she said. “Though I am willing to help dig the cars out if it gets me pancakes.”
“Go forth, Conquering Hero,” he said. 
Una shook her head. “Poor Jasmine Lan is about to get her ass handed to her.”
Wen Ning laughed. “You’ve heard of the Lan Arm Strength, yes?”
Una scoffed. “You’ve heard of the Delaney Sheer Stubbornness, yes?”
She had a point there. It was partly responsible for how he'd ended up here, in this house, far ahead of what he’d considered his own personal move-in schedule.
It was going to be an interesting day.
<center>*********</center>
The crews at the station usually took care of their own food, stopping by the grocery store to buy what they needed for the shared meals. On days like today, they didn’t always have the time and while normally one of the local places would provide sandwiches, even they were closed down. They usually had leftovers to tide them over, but Wen Ning had gotten used to making batches of chilli large enough to feed a small army. 
He also knew Aidan wasn’t supposed to go in today, since he just had his shift day, but blizzards didn’t care about scheduled days off and as long as Aidan had twelve hours away from the station, he’d be back. 
So as Noon came, and the chilli was in the pot, and Chris Delaney emerged from his part of the house, mumbled something about deadlines, grabbed an entire bowl of coffee and disappeared back into his room, and the battle between Lan Jasmine and Aisling Delaney commenced, Wen Ning sat on their back porch and recorded it all, letting Aidan sleep on. 
“My money’s on Aisling,” Una said. “She’s got that accuracy going.”
“Jasmine all the way,” Finn said. “I’ve seen her throw knives.”
Wen Ning’s money was on a draw. Either way, it was cute to see the girls trying to out-impress each other in feats of strength and physical accuracy as a method of flirting. It reminded him of a more than a few of his friends.
He quietly sipped his hot chocolate as Una whistled to signal the start of the next match.
<center>*********</center>
The living room was full of passed out teenagers, exhausted from acting like little kids in the snow and gorging themselves on food and hot drinks. Wen Ning was in the middle of finishing the dishes when he heard Aidan stumble down the stairs, punchdrunk from hours of uninterrupted sleep.
He had maybe, possibly, definitely stolen Aidan’s phone in order to achieve this rare feat of much-needed rest.
Aidan emerged with some adorable bedhead and Mr. Tumnus in his arms.
He placed their cat down and pulled Wen Ning into his arms, resting against him.
“What time is it?” he asked, voice raspy.
“Nearly three,” Wen Ning said.
“Fuck me, that’s late,” Aidan muttered into Wen Ning’s shoulder. 
“You needed the rest,” Wen Ning insisted as he drew Aidan over to their breakfast nook. “And the dispatchers knew it because no one has tried to call before now.”
“Hmm,” Aidan agreed. 
He wrapped his arms around Wen Ning, resting his head on his chest. Wen Ning ran his fingers through Aidan’s curls. It was a cherished quiet, peaceful moment. Chris still busy with work, the sound of his music muffled as he worked on the lineart for his current comic. The Trio and their friends napping off their snow battle. The snow still falling outside. Mr. Tumnus quietly purring as he ate his food. And Aidan in his arms, still lax and loopy from sleep.
“I can’t wait for our vacation,” Aidan said. “You. Me. A nice, private hotel room. No snow. No interruptions.”
Wen Ning tilted his chin up and met his lips in a soft kiss.
“We’ll get there,” he promised. “We just have to get through the New Year first.”
Headmaster Lan had been very understanding about why Wen Ning needed an additional week of vacation. He’d somehow convinced both Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen to be substitute teachers for a week. Wen Ning was sure he’d come back to entire classes converted into fencing or dance students. 
They just needed to get through the New Year. He was counting down the days. They even had a back-up plan if their flight got canceled or delayed. Either they’d be in the Caribbean or they’d be staying at home. Either way, they’d be together.
Aidan’s phone started going off and their little bubble broke. Aidan’s shoulders dropped even as he reached for his phone.
Wen Ning stepped out of his arms and went to start another pot of coffee and to get the chilli ready for transport. 
There were a lot of unique stressors to dating a firefighter. And Aidan had been upfront about it from the start, warned him, made him understand that while it wasn’t as busy as Boston, he’d had less crewmembers here to help cover shifts. The hours were horrible, Wen Ning had never realized how bad until after they’d been dating long enough and he had to witness Aidan trying to act like a normal, functioning human being after a 24-hour shift and three hours of uninterrupted rest. There was the fact that work came home with them, how could it not, some of the things they saw. And plans, life, everything had to be flexible, because days off suddenly disappeared and everyone else’s holidays were not your own.
But Wen Ning couldn’t imagine loving anyone else as he loved the man currently giving the dispatcher an earful as he tried to head towards the door, still barely awake.
“Aidan,” he called after him.
“Yeah, babe?” Aidan asked.
“As much as I’m sure our neighbors will delight in you going out in nothing but your boxers and boots, you might want to get dressed first.”
“Shit,” Aidan said. He pulled his phone away from his ear where the loud laughter could be heard. “I’m never going to live this one down.”
Wen Ning poured a mug of coffee, shoved it in Aidan’s hands and took the phone.
“Orlando?” he asked.
“Ning! My man! How’s my favorite archer?”
“Asking you to please not give Aidan any more shit. He just woke-up. You know how he is when his brain is still offline.”
“Only for you Coach Ning. Only for you. Hey, any chance you can send any--”
“He’ll be bringing a pot of chilli with him,” Wen Ning said.
“I will?” Aidan asked.
“You will,” Wen Ning said as he pushed him towards the stairs. “Go get dressed before I text Orlando a picture to put up on the bulletin board.”
“Please do!” Orlando said.
“Fuck no,” Aidan said as he grabbed his phone back. He kissed Wen Ning. “Love you,” he said, low.
Orlando still heard him.
“When are you going to marry him?” Orlando asked. “Come on, betting pool’s getting large and I need a new phone. Give me a hint. Just one.”
“How about fuck off,” Aidan said as he climbed the stairs.
Wen Ning shook his head as he watched him go, then went back to the kitchen, just in time to hear the Trio wake-up. 
His life was overcome with Delaneys these days, but he loved it. 
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ma-sulevin · 5 years
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What if I wanted.... all 50 for Mattie and Sharky.........
Macy is trying to aggravate my carpal tunnel; you heard it here first.
1. Who wakes up first?
Sharky. He tends to wake up a lot during the night anyway, so when morning finally comes he tends to get bored of trying to go back to sleep and just gets up to start his day. Mattie wakes up to her alarm clock a little later.
2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?
Mattie does, always. She loves a good lazy morning.
3. Who takes longer getting ready?
Mattie does. Sharky just runs through the shower and towel dries his hair and he’s good to go.
4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?
If they’re both awake? They have sex for sure and it knocks them right out. Sharky gets bored if he can’t sleep, so he’ll get up and watch a movie or something; Mattie will just watch him sleep.
5. Who falls asleep while watching a movie?
Mattie does. She always cuddles right up against Sharky’s side and his heat lulls her to sleep.
6. Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?
Sharky for sure. He loves Mattie so, so much.
7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?
Sharky does. They’re cheesy and often explicit and they crack Mattie up every time.
8. Who gets extremely competitive playing Mario Kart?
They both do, but Sharky usually wins.
9. Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling?
Sharky, almost every time.
10. Who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back?
Sharky’s immune to this sort of prank. Mattie doesn’t let him use her phone for just this reason.
11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?
Mattie would, and Sharky would be annoyed because he has a SYSTEM, okay?
12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?
Mattie does. She’s a little sneakier than him, so she’ll creep up when he’s sitting somewhere to surprise him.
13. Who points out a dog when they see one?
Mattie. Sharky doesn’t love dogs.
14. Who’s prone to road rage?
Mattie. She’s not bad about it, but she definitely gets more wrathful than Sharky. He just looks at her like that meme of the monkey puppet thing.
15. Who’s prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)?
Mattie will if she’s cold, but that’s it. It’s more of a winter situation.
16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?
Mattie throws sunscreen at him if he doesn’t put it on. He thinks he’s fine; she says she doesn’t want him to get skin cancer and die.
17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling?
Mattie! Sharky will 100% forget and then feel awful about ruining the trip.
18. Who gets the window seat?
Mattie does. Sharky can see over her easily enough.
19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?
MATTIE. She does this…… a lot.
20. What do they argue about the most?
During the game, they argue about Sharky being careful and staying safe. In the bunker, they argue about rationing and how much they should antagonize Hurk Sr. After the bunker, they argue about the best way to set up for the future. It’s rarely an all-out fight though, it’s just frustration that boils over a bit before they pull it together and talk about it.
21. Who’s clumsier?
Oh, Sharky.
22. Who texts more often?
Mattie would be way better at texting.
23. Who is better with kids?
They’re both good with kids, but Mattie’s more responsible and careful about it.
24. Who’s the better cook?
Mattie’s a much better cook, but she doesn’t love doing it.
25. Who mistakes salt for sugar?
They’ve both done this. Sharky’s more likely to grab without checking the label.
26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?
Sharky did this on accident ONCE and has never done it again.
27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning?
Sharky. If he wakes up and can’t go back to sleep? Snack time.
28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.?
Sharky because he forgot he was cooking something while looking for a movie.
29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?
Mattie does unless Sharky gets there in time. Then they share.
30. Who likes doing the dishes?
Neither one of them, but since Mattie cooks more, Sharky does more of the dishes.
31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they?
They both have a lot of cravings of foods they can’t get during the Cult Situation and after the bombs, but Mattie’s are more intense since she has four babies. Has she sobbed for twenty minutes because she just wants mint chocolate chip ice cream even though her toothpaste makes her gag? Yes. Is she sorry about it? …..well this isn’t really her fault, is it?
32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?
Sharky’s surprisingly good at this kind of thing. He likes to do stuff for Mattie to make her feel appreciated, and if that means remembering her favorite meal, that’s what he’s gonna do.
33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?
Well, Mattie’s is mint chocolate chip (as established). Sharky doesn’t prefer ice cream usually, but it’s vanilla when he does. They both like waffle cones.
34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?
They don’t really get a chance? During the Cult Situation, Sharky makes sure to have little moments where they can spend downtime together, usually involving beers and campfires. That happens a few times before everything goes to shit. After, they make Hurk watch the babies and do the same thing.
35. What do they smell when they smell amortentia?
Sharky smells gasoline, coffee, and thunderstorms. Mattie also smells gasoline, but she also smells apple pie and mint.
36. Which one is the secret snuggler?
They’re not secret about it. Mattie’s more obvious though.
37. Which one offers their jacket to the other when they complain they feel cold?
Mattie’s the complainer, Sharky’s the warm body.
38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?
Mattie does more driving, and she does the most reaching.
39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch? (Bonus: What does it say?)
This isn’t really something they have the opportunity to do, but Sharky would absolutely leave little misspelled notes in her lunches. She’d keep all of them in her desk.
40. Who is the most affectionate?
They’re both very affectionate. Mattie’s more physical, and Sharky’s more verbal.
41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon?
They tend to curl into each other more than they spoon, but they’re both equally likely to be the big spoon. He’s taller than her by like five inches, but they make it work.
42. What is their favorite feature of their partner?
Mattie loves Sharky’s smile. She loves how big and genuine it is and how it wrinkles up his face when he laughs. He loves… everything about her. He loves her eyes and her legs and her butt and her boobs and her smile.
43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?
Sharky realizes he likes her first, and he just kind of… flirts a little more, even though it’s awkward and she doesn’t know that’s what’s happening, and he goes out of his way to make her laugh. He’s more reckless in the field, too, but it’s more him trying to keep her safe than showing off.
When Mattie realizes it, she ignores it until she just can’t anymore, and then she climbs in his lap and starts kissing him without saying anything about it.
44. What are their nicknames for each other?
Sharky calls her the normal stuff from in-game (shorty, po-po, chica) and also sometimes “the fuzz” ifhe’s talking about her rather than directly to her. He’ll call her more traditional nicknames too, like babe and hot stuff sometimes.
She calls him Shark and Sharks, but she’ll throw in a lot of babes, honeys, and pumpkins too.
45. Who worries the most? Over what?
Sharky’s more carefree in general but sometimes he gets caught in an anxiety spiral that catches them both by surprise. Mattie has a fairly consistent level of worry about, just……… everything. There’s a lot to worry about in this story.
46. Who initiates kisses?
They both do! They love kissing.
47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?
Mattie does. It’s after they have sex for the first time and she’s like “might as well get this all out in the open.”
48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?
Mattie does, but some of that is because Sharky’s family is farther away and the rest of it is because he left a giant hickey on her neck.
49. What do they do when they’re away from each other?
Sharky mopes. Mattie just gets done what she needs to do so she can go back home.
50. Who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?
They both do, poor babies.
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arcanesupern0va · 5 years
Text
Rick In The Water; Ch2: Snap Out Of It
A/N: I'm still working on trying to find the right voice for Rick, so if you had any advice or feedback, I would appreciate it so so so much. Anyway, thanks for reading. 💜 CW: Still references to abuse, that’s just like an ongoing theme tbh, let me know if I need to tag it better, please Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Words: 5768
My ao3
Masterlist
|Ch1: Second Chance|
I had only been asleep for an hour or two when my alarm went off. I climbed back out of bed, dressing quickly and touching my makeup up before heading downstairs to start breakfast. The little bit of sleep I had managed seemed to take the edge off of the pain in my arm but I popped a couple of ibuprofen for good measure. After every fight, I’d grown accustomed to serving up chocolate chip waffles and eggs, Ryan’s favorite meal, trying to win his favor back. I started my usual routine, mixing the batter and cracking the eggs but this time felt different. I wasn’t making him breakfast because I wanted to stop the fight and “make it up” to him, he had expected it. Like it was a reward for beating the tar out of me. Right as I was plating his waffles, he nuzzled in behind me, murmuring good morning in my ear before eyeing the plate in my hand hungrily. 
“Smells great babe,” he said with a self-satisfied smile, heading to the front door to grab the newspaper to read over with his breakfast. By the time he returned to the dining room, his spot at the table was filled with his plate of food, a glass of no pulp orange juice and a piping hot cup of coffee and he smiled at me, causing my skin to crawl. I quickly excused myself back into the kitchen to grab my breakfast, a small bowl of yogurt adorned with berries and a cup of coffee. I dawdled a moment, trying to avoid having to be in the same room with him for as long as possible before he called for me. “Hey, are you going to be joining me?” he asked sweetly, though I could hear the undercurrent of annoyance in his tone. I scurried back in with my bowl, apologizing and we sat down to a silent breakfast. My phone’s ringtone for Madison broke the silence, earning me an irritated glare as I quickly extracted the device from my pocket to read the message.
“Madison was just letting me know she made it to school okay,” I told him, returning my phone to my pocket.
“Tell her to come straight home after school today,” he ordered. I obliged, quickly typing out his demands. I nodded as the message sent and he returned to his breakfast. The silence returned until his alarm on his phone started to blare, telling him it was time to leave for work. He stood up quickly, briefly kissing my cheek before heading to the front door and disappearing on the other side of it. Once the door shut behind him, I finally was able to breathe a sigh of relief, tears streaming down my cheeks once my composure had been dropped. I gathered the dishes, listening intently for his car to start and speed down the road, signaling that he was well and truly gone for the day. I had buried my face in my hands, trying to stifle my sobs when I heard a sound that I could only describe as utterly sci-fi. I looked up to see a tall, slender, blue-haired man standing in my kitchen wearing a look of concern on his face with his back to a green swirl that seemed to appear and then disappear out of nowhere.
“Rick?”
“H-hey Nova. I was waiting for Dipshit to leave so I could come over here and check on you- m-make sure you were o-okay. A-are you okay?” he asked, disguising his concern as disinterest. Once the surprise of suddenly seeing him wore off, I quickly reverted to my anger from last night and greeted him with a look of disdain.
“I’m fine Rick, you can leave,” I told him coldly, turning to continue cleaning the dishes from breakfast.
“Y-yeah, the cry-crying I walked in on is what every housewife does. It’s to*uuuuuurp*tally normal,” he said, rolling his eyes at me. He stowed a white device back in his jacket before approaching me, grabbing my chin to force me to look up at him. My heart raced for a moment, going back to those vulgar thoughts from the night before coming to my senses. It was like Ryan said, he didn’t want me and I had to be kidding myself to think he would.
“W-what are you doing?” I blushed, trying to pull away before he saw through my concealer.
“J-Jesus Christ Nova, what did he do to you?” he demanded. I moved away from him quickly, trying to catch my breath again and fight back the tears burning my eyes.
“Nothing, I told you I’m fine. I want you to leave Rick,” I told him coldly, turning my back on him completely.
“M-Morty told me he overheard that piece of shit telling you you weren’t allowed around the house anymore. D-don't tell me you’re going to let that dipshit control you like that,” he demanded.
“It’s not controlling. He just wants the best from me. I disrespected him last night,” I explained.
“Dis-Disrespected him how?” he scoffed. “You were the p-perfect li-little housewife last night.”
“He said I was paying too much attention to… you,” I admitted sheepishly. I watched his face move from confusion to realization and settle on smug pride.
“Oh, s-so he’s threatened by me?” he marveled darkly. “That’s just, that’s just excellent.”
“You would say that,” I said rolling my eyes and grabbing a towel to dry my hands. “I don’t understand why. You’re my best friend’s dad.” He raised an eyebrow but remained silent. A sly smirk tickled his cheeks as he all but stared at me as though the answer to that question was obvious. “What Rick?” I demanded, growing frustrated with him. 
“He’s c-clearly threatened by my animal mag*uuuurp*netism,” he gloated, wiggling his eyebrow at me. Despite myself, a watery chuckle slips out and his look of pride is replaced by relief. “N-Nova you need to leave, like get the fuck out of here now,” he urged, dropping all humorous pretense and looking me over seriously. I realized I had been unconsciously holding my wrist delicately and my attempts to play it off were too late to stop the realization dawning on his face. 
“It’s nothing Rick; I’m fine.” I tried to assure him, tucking my hand behind my back causing me to wince.
“I’m gonna kill him,” he murmured darkly, his eyes going wide as they darted around maniacally, avoiding my gaze.
“N-no, Rick, please,” I plead weakly moving closer to him. “It would kill Maddy.”
“Well that i-it going to kill you!” he exclaimed, moving closer to inspect my wrist. I winced at his touch, the area still incredibly tender. Embarrassment flushed in my cheeks, trying to figure out the quickest way out of this conversation. 
“O-oh so you’re back for less than a month and suddenly you’re so concerned with my wellbeing?” Venom laced in my tone, as I tried my hardest to resist tears. “You don’t get to leave and come back fifteen years later and suddenly decide how much of a shitshow my life is. New flash fuckwad, it’s kind of your fault I’m in such a fucked situation.” I knew I was lashing out, that I was just trying to hurt him but I couldn’t stop myself. The anger I’d been sitting on for all these years started pouring out.
“M-my fault?” he hissed. “How the fuck did you get there Nova?”
“You fucking left! You knew everything I’d been through with my fucking parents and you still fucking left!” I had to admit, it felt pretty good to finally confront him for what he’d put me through but I still couldn’t stop the wave of guilt I felt building, waiting for the perfect moment to drown me. “Your family accepted me and cared for me and I was dumb enough to think that when I was under your roof, I was finally loved. Silly fucking me.”
“Nova, you have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about,” he growled. 
“Oh what Rick? You just leave the ones you love all the time? That’s how you get your kicks? Maybe next time, before you come barging into my home telling me how much my life fucking sucks, maybe, just maybe, you think about your own part in making that happen,” I told him coldly. A tense silence filled the room as I watched him process my words, seemingly refusing to yell back, to even say anything. “Rick, get the fuck out of my house.”
“N-Nova, wait-“ He dismissed my demands, and I could feel the heat of my rage flush against my cheeks. 
“Get. Out.”
*+*
After Rick finally left, I grabbed a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, sunk against the countertop and sobbed. I lost track of time, and before I knew it, the wine was gone and I could hear Summer and Madison climbing out of Jerry’s car, saying their goodbyes before the front door swung open.
“Mom? I’m home,” she called out. I quickly picked myself up off the floor, tossing the bottle in the trash and stumbling over to the refrigerator to look for something to make for a snack.
“Hey honey, I’m in here,” I responded. “Are you hungry?” I could feel myself swaying where I stood, opting to just grab the plastic container of strawberries from the crisper and start slicing them. Madison plopped herself down at the kitchen table, pulling out her agenda to start on her homework.
“Oh my god, yes Mom I am starving,” she said gratefully. I slapped a smile on my face as I walked over to the table to deliver her bowl of strawberries looking over her shoulder to look at the homework she’d been assigned. It honestly looked like gibberish to me, but she seemed to be breezing through it quite easily. That was her father in her. Even though he was a complete monster, he wasn’t a dipshit as Rick called him. He could pick things up incredibly quickly and had the decency to pass that trait onto his daughter.
“So what is this? Math?” I asked hesitantly as she dug into her strawberries.
“It’s a scientific equation,” she explained at length the point of the equation which just left me to sit there and nod in response. Not only did it look like gibberish, but it also sounded like it too. I was watching her work for a while in silence when swearing erupted from next door. We exchanged glances briefly, her giggling in response. “Morty’s grandpa is funny,” she snickered.
“Oh really?” I raised an eyebrow in response. 
“He asks a lot of questions about you and Dad though. I don’t think he likes Dad.” Her face flushed with embarrassment as she quickly looked to the door, relieved that he wasn’t about to jump from the other side.
“What’s not to like?” I remarked absently, standing up to peer out of the window to investigate the source of the swearing. Rick was berating Morty for messing something up, and rage swelled in my gut. Before I even realized what I was doing, I was flinging the front door open to go confront the crotchety old man abusing my godson.
“The fuck- the hell do you think you’re doing Mor*uuuurp*ty? Can’t you do one fucking- anything right?” Rick was shouting as I approached the garage. Pausing to take the scene in fully before bursting in, I sussed out that Rick was working on some new invention and Morty was supposed to be holding something steady while he worked. A childlike fascination overtook me and I resigned to pressing myself against the outer wall of the garage, opting to listen in closely. “Look M-Morty, I just want to make sure your Aunt Nova is safe- is okay, just keep the damn thing still. Do it- do it for her.” He sounded frustrated, but also a little desperate.
“Aw jeez, Rick, Aunt Nova- Aunt Nova’s strong. She’s been with Mr. Dawes for a long time now, I think she’s used to it.” I heard the sound of metal on metal as Rick slammed whatever took he was holding in his hand down onto the metal work table. 
“And w-what? That makes it okay- that makes it acceptable?” Rick seethed with anger. “I-I don’t understand why I-I’m not allowed to just kill him, but your mom said that’s strictly off the table so the next best thing is this m-mental dampener. But look, Morty, it’ll nest itself in his brain, Morty a-and it’ll neutralize his angry thoughts towards Nova, Morty. I-I-It won’t work forever but maybe we can talk some sense into her, g-get her away from him-“
“You know Rick, I don’t understand why you suddenly care so much,” Morty said angrily. “F-f-first you were avoiding her and now all of a sudden you-you're concerned for her safety?”
“Yeah, well, I care Morty. I’m not going to try to explain it to you b-because I just do,” Rick blew him off and the sounds of welding started up again, seemingly without Morty’s assistance. 
“And wh-what’s in this for you?” Morty asked scathingly, and I was surprised to hear such anger coming from the timid boy. “A-a-are you trying to sleep with Aunt Nova? That’s sick, Rick. That’s fucked up, even for you.” Morty accused his grandfather. 
“W-what? No! Even if she were interested in that, that would be n-none of your business, Mor-uuuurrrp-ty.” I was frozen in shock against the side of the garage, trying to ignore the part of me that was hoping Morty would press his grandfather for more. 
“Oh gross, you’re into Aunt Nova? Wasn’t she like, a second daughter to you?” Morty sounded horrified and I could feel my cheeks burn.
“She was Beth’s friend in high school. T-that’s all she was- is to me,” Rick tried rationalizing to his grandson. “She’s a b-beautiful girl, but that’s not why I’m trying to help her. Is it so hard to believe- so hard to comprehend that I’m not the biggest fan of domestic abuse?” It was Rick’s turn to equip a scathing tone, albeit it sounded a lot angrier and more vicious than his grandson’s.
“I just know you don’t do stuff without there being a benefit for you.” Morty’s voice was growing closer and I knew if I stayed here, I would be found out. My only option was to head toward the back of my house where their voices were too faint for me to hear. I quietly opened the gate to the back yard, slipping around it and closing it as silently as I could behind me.
“What’s going on out there?” Madison asked when I finally made it back in the kitchen.
“I think Rick and Morty were arguing over something,” I dismissed, omitting the topic of their argument because I truly didn’t know how I felt about it, and I certainly didn’t know how to explain it to her. 
“Did you talk to them when you went outside?” She asked, closing her textbook and storing it back in her backpack. 
“I didn’t want to get in the middle of it,” I told her, lost in my head trying to process everything that had happened today. “I’m gonna start dinner soon. What are you in the mood for?”
“Ooh, can we have spaghetti and meatballs? With garlic bread?” She asked eagerly. I looked over to the clock, knowing I’d have to make a quick trip to the store but since Ryan wouldn’t be home for another hour and a half, I nodded quickly. 
“You wanna go to the grocery store? If you can be quick you can bring Summer too,” I offered. She practically squealed with joy at the suggestion, finishing cleaning up her homework before running over to Smith’s house to fetch her best friend. I followed her out the front door, locking it behind me as I made my way out to the car. I was only in the car for a moment before the girls had re-emerged, followed by Rick who stood in the doorway watching us regretfully as I backed out of the driveway, turning up the radio to drown out the sounds of endless teenage girl chatter and hopefully my own thoughts. 
*+*
When we returned home with grocery bags in tow, Madison and Summer disappeared up to Madison’s room, leaving me alone in the kitchen to start dinner. I put on my favorite playlist and filled a pot with water and started the meatballs. I fell into an easy routine, breaking noodles into the pot when it came to a boil. It was barely enough of a distraction to keep my mind off of Rick though and in idle moments, I found myself zoned out and staring at the wall trying to even begin to process it. I was concluding that I wouldn't be able to, not without a high price therapist. 
I was moving everything out to the dining room when I heard Ryan pull up, quietly proud of my timing. I called upstairs for the girls, asking if Summer would be staying for dinner and receiving an “Uh, duh!” in response. My body tensed at the sound of the front door opening and closing, my husband groaning as he took off his suit jacket and stored his briefcase in the closet. For a moment, I couldn’t believe this was my life, it all felt… wrong. Nonetheless, I moved to greet Ryan with the usual peck on the cheek and smile and called the girls down for dinner, earning a distrustful eye as Madison and Summer galloped down the stairs to take their place at the table. We discussed our days, leaving me to lie about mine as I couldn’t tell my husband I had spent the morning and afternoon drunk on kitchen wine in the kitchen after I’d gotten into a heated argument with my best friends dad about the years of psychological damage he’d inflicted. I allowed myself to slip into a quiet contemplation about the conversation I’d overheard in the Smith‘s garage, taking a knock at trying to figure out how I actually felt about it, as Madison and Summer told Ryan about their days. A sudden knock on the door broke me from my reverie and Madison excused herself to answer it. 
“Summer!” she called from the hallway. “Your Grandpa is here.” She reappeared in the doorway with a surprisingly calm and collected Rick in tow, although that didn’t save me from the distrustful look Ryan was watching me with from across the table.
“Ah, Rick,” I greeted him casually, using a napkin to clear my face. “Were you here to collect Summer?” I asked politely, standing to greet him properly. Ryan’s eyes bored into the side of my head, but I knew as long as non-family members were present, I was safe from his ire. When he shook his head quickly, I raised an eyebrow, acting confused but he tore his gaze off of me to look over at Ryan. 
“Hey, Ryan. I just wanted to come over to apologize for last night if I did anything to upset you. Beth was upset that Nova wouldn’t be coming around anymore and she demanded I come over and apologize.” Rick’s tone appeared to be perfectly apologetic, but I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. I knew why he was here and I was stunned at how long it took me to come to the realization. The dampener. 
“I - well - how’d you know that?” Ryan stumbled and I silently motioned at the girls to return to Madison’s room. Rick smiled widely, a hint of a manic hysteria lurking in his smile. He rested his hand on Ryan’s back holding out his hand to make peace although not answering his question. 
“I just wanted to make sure that any disagreements or perceived disrespect between the two of us wouldn’t stand in the way of my daughter’s happiness,” he said coolly, disregarding Ryan’s question, opting instead to check out the spread for dinner. To my quiet surprise, Ryan didn’t respond and when I looked over at him, he smiled serenely at me. 
“Of course not Rick, I think I overreacted,” he admitted genuinely, much to my surprise. “I misinterpreted the situation.”
“That’s great Ryan, I’m glad we got to have this talk and clear the air,” Rick smiled at Ryan, lacking the genuine nature Ryan had.
“Would you like to stay for dinner, Rick? (Y/N) made spaghetti,” he offered, standing up and shaking Rick’s hand as if they’d been friends for years.
“You know, I’d love to,” Rick said, moving around the table to take up the seat right next to me. Realizing I was still standing, I sat back down, my eyes flicking between the two men sharing the table with me. Still stunned at my newly docile husband, I couldn’t bring myself to react or even look at Rick as he moved his chair closer to me under the guise of going for some noodles.
“(Y/N), you should serve our guest,” Ryan reprimanded me but his usual disdain was absent from his voice, replaced instead by a gentle urging. I quickly shook my head to come back to reality as I quickly stood up to start ladling food onto Rick’s plate. I stole a glance up at Rick, who gave me a small eye roll before returning to watch Ryan intently. I slid the Parmesan cheese over next to him, returning to my seat and quiet disbelief.
Rick and Ryan chatted amicably over dinner, allowing me to disappear into my head while the two talked about Ryan’s job, or more accurately, while Ryan talked about his job and Rick put on a very convincing listening face. When dinner finally wrapped up, Ryan adjourned to his office, surprisingly leaving me with Rick as I cleaned up the dishes. Once Ryan was occupied in the other room, Rick’s casual demeanor was dropped and he quickly grabbed the dishes out of my hand, opting to carry them into the kitchen himself, mumbling something about making my sprained wrist worse. 
“What did you do to Ryan?” I asked cautiously as I followed him into my kitchen, keeping my voice as low as possible. I watched him load the dishwasher, trying to ignore how bizarre just… everything was becoming. 
“Hmm?” Rick asked, peeking around the corner, keeping an eye out for Ryan himself. 
“You did something to Ryan,” I told him flatly. “He’s being docile. He left me alone with you.”
“I-I’m not going to do anything to you,” he said, his eyes narrowed up at me before opening the cabinet next to the sink, looking for dishwasher soap. “And now, neither will he,” he added darkly.
“You didn’t answer my question, Rick.” My patience was wearing thin but he continued to ignore me as he busied himself with gathering more dishes from the dining room. Running my hand through my hair, I could feel panic starting to set in. Sure, I knew what he’d done on a surface level, but I also knew that this would be way too easy of a fix. 
“Tell me what you did, Rick,” I demanded again, my tone threatening the established volume limit of our conversation.
“I just made him… nicer,” he said, frustrated as he shut the dishwasher and finally looked at me. “You and Beth seem to think that he should be allowed to keep living and while I fervently disagree, I had to go with the next best option.” I had no idea how to respond and I could feel him searching my face for any kind of reaction before continuing. “Y-you don't mind if he's dim, right? I-I'm not quite sure how much this is actually going to affect him. It’s only been used on sentient slugs. Th-this is more of an inaugural test on humans.”
“So what happens now?” I asked him, my voice trembling as I rubbed my face in my hands.
“W-well, I guess I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t - that Beth wouldn’t lose her best friend,” he scratched the back of his neck with a shrug before turning away. “She seemed pretty pissed about it, so I figured I should fix it for her.” 
“Hmm, is that so?” I asked, still suspicious of his motives.
“Well, I mean yeah. I’m living under her roof. Pissing her off- making her mad doesn’t exactly work out well for me.” 
“I just know you don’t do stuff without there being a benefit for you.” Morty’s accusation echoed in my mind, but it was pushed away when Rick’s face lit up with an idea.
“You wanna go for a ride? I told you I’d take you out on my ship,” he asked eagerly.
“Oh yeah, Ryan would love that,” I replied, my eyes narrowed at him. He brushed me off with a wave of his hand and left the kitchen. I followed him to Ryan’s office, where he held a finger up, signaling me to wait here.
“Hey, do you mind if I steal Nova- (Y/N) for a little bit?” It was weird to hear my real name coming from Rick and to think back, I don’t think he’d ever called me by it. 
“Sure,” my husband said in a pleasant tone that I had been pretty sure he was completely incapable of. “Where are you guys going?”
“I, uh, I was just gonna take her over to see Beth. Shouldn’t be too long, I won’t have her out too late,” he lied smoothly, and I swore I could hear him winking.
“Oh, okay, cool,” Ryan replied genially. “I’ll see you around, Rick.” Rick returned, pulling me gently by my arm, heading directly to his ship.
*+*
As we climbed in the ship, Morty appeared at the doorway to the garage. He eyed Rick suspiciously as he approached the driver's side door.
“Where, uh, where are you taking Aunt Nova, Rick?” he asked angrily and I could feel myself blush at the memory of their earlier conversation. He looked at me remorsefully, and I had to quickly avert my gaze, biting my lip to resist the urge to giggle anxiously as the young kid watched me nervously. "A-Aunt Nova? Are you okay?"
"I'm great, Morty," I assured him, although the words came out strangled. My nerves were in overdrive, partially at the thought of going up even twenty feet in this enormous potential death trap and partially at the realization that I was going to be alone with Rick.
"See-see Morty, she's fine. I-I-I'm not going to do any-anything to her,” he spat at his grandson, offended. 
"Rick, don't be mean to Morty, he's a good kid," I reprimanded him, earning myself a raised eyebrow but no retaliation, something I didn't even realize I was expecting until the opportunity passed and I relaxed slightly.
"We'll be back soon Morty. She just wanted to see the ship," Rick told Morty plainly, turning the engine over. Morty's suspicion seemed to not be subsiding but he said nothing as the ship began levitating and Rick smoothly backed it out of the garage and up toward the sky. 
Before I knew it, I found myself glued to the window, taking in the beautiful sights of the city below, only blobs of light to me now. I watched as the lights slowly faded and became a wooded landscape. Rick lowered the ship slightly so I could get a better view.
"Wow," I murmured, mesmerized by sights I never thought I would be able to see outside of pictures. "It's so beautiful out here."
"It's alright," Rick smirked. "Y-y-you wanna see something truly incredible, let me take you out into space sometime." My eyes widened at the thought, tearing my eyes away from the window to look at him.
"This thing can go into space?" I asked, awestruck.
"Can it go- of course, it can go into space! What good is a SPACEship if it doesn't go into SPACE." He shook his head in amusement as my cheeks flushed pink.
"Rick, the headlights are flashlights. Excuse me for not expecting a lot from it." I told him flatly, trying to stop the smirk that was playing at my cheek.
"You keep making fun of my headlights…" he grumbled, "Y-y-you want me to show you or not?" he asked grumpily.
"Yes," I replied breathlessly. He pressed a couple of buttons on the dash before shifting and grinning wildly at me.
"Yooou're gonna want to put your seatbelt on,” he told me. I quickly belted myself in as the ship began building up speed as it headed for the sky. As we approached the atmosphere, he pressed another couple buttons and he pressed the gas even harder, pushing me back into my seat as we finally broke through. He started slowing the ship down, turning to me to watch my reaction as I took in the inky dark that now surrounded us. He wasn't kidding, it was beautiful out here and I didn't have the words to even react to the astounding view. "L-like I said, incredible huh?" he smirked at me, and I looked over at him, mouth hanging agape.
"No wonder you never came back," I murmured. When he sighed next to me, pressing a button to stabilize the ship and hover, I immediately regretted it.
"That's not- it wasn't like that,” he told me, exasperated. "I mean, i-i-it was kind of like that, but it wasn't because I didn't like- didn't want to be around you. You were an incredible kid and I wanted like hell to stay, but I just… couldn't." 
"I really don't want to talk about this right now Rick," I told him, exhausted at the thought. "I just lost my space virginity, and I kind of want to have this memory be a pleasant one." He opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it, he closed it again and we fell into a comfortable silence. We existed in that silence for a while, before an alert in his pocket went off. He pulled out a high tech looking device and sighed as he read the message on it.
"We should be getting back,” he informed me regretfully, pushing a button on the dash to take us out of the hover mode keeping us in stationary.
"R-Rick, if Ryan is going to be acting docile, do you think we could come out here again?" I asked nervously, averting my eyes to take in the last bit of the view as we broke through the atmosphere yet again. Rick was quiet for a moment, considering my question.
"Maybe we could take you with us now and then," Rick answered finally. 
"We?"
"M-Morty and I go out on adventures from time to time, you could come with us on the less dangerous ones,” he explained.
"The less dangerous ones?" I asked incredulously. "What are you doing to my godson?"
"N-nothing bad!" he contested. "Sometimes, shit just goes wrong."
I sat in silence for a moment, really thinking everything over before responding, "I want to go on adventures, but I want to also go on the ones that are considered dangerous." I declared finally.
"I'm not going to take you somewhere you might die," he told me, rolling his eyes. "I didn't neutralize your husband so he wouldn't kill you so I could take out and get you killed myself." Going out into space had pushed Ryan so far out of my mind, even briefly and anxiety washed over me again at the thought of going back to my house. Before I could voice my fears, my house was coming back into view and I pulled my phone from my pocket to check the time. 2:30 am. I was so dead.
"You won't have to worry about it because it's way too late and he's going to kill me for being out this late," I panicked. My breathing quickened and suddenly it felt as though I needed to get out of this ship as soon as possible. Rick looked over at me as he landed the ship to find me hyperventilating.
"H-h-hey, Nova, hey- c-calm down, i-it's gonna be okay," he tried to soothe me. As soon as the ship touched down, I wrenched the door open, pouring out on the floor as my legs had become no better than noodles. Rick hurried around the ship with a groan, picking me up off the ground and resting me in his workshop chair. "N-Nova, it's okay. He's not going to hurt you." He dug through his labcoat before extending his flask to me. I took a grateful swig, grimacing at the harsh liquid within. 
"You don't know that. You said yourself that you've never tested that dampener on a human. You don't know what he's like, Rick," I croaked. He groaned angrily, digging through some of the boxes that now filled the garage before producing a small disc-shaped device. He pressed it against the back of my hand and after a light pinch, he removed it and tossed it away.
"If anything happens, if he starts getting angry, tonight or any other time, press into that spot and I'll be there immediately," he explained. "Be warned, if you push that, he's probably going to die, just, uh, full disclosure." 
"Why are you doing all this Rick?" I asked tearfully. He turned his back to me with a shrug.
"I just want you to be safe," he murmured. We sat in silence again, passing his flask back and forth as my breathing slowly returned to normal. I finally resolved to face my husband when my head was finally feeling nice and foggy and he waved goodbye from his bench, leaving me to walk back to my house alone. 
As the front door shut behind me, I expected a light to flick on and my husband to greet me in a drunken stupor, but he wasn't there. As I crept through the quiet house, I waited for him to pop out at any moment but it wasn't until I entered our bedroom that I found him sleeping peacefully. I quickly showered and carefully climbed into bed to avoid waking him. As I closed my eyes, I was treated to a recap of everything I'd seen today, and my dreams were filled with ideas of adventures at Rick's side.
+Ch3: Neon Moon+
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locke-writes · 5 years
Text
To Call Mine
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Author: locke-writes
Title: To Call Mine
Based On: Imagine Hopper realizing he’s gay and meeting you, a significantly younger guy, ending up being his first boyfriend. and Imagine Jim Hopper having feelings for you and whenever he sees you he get awkward. From: @thranduilsperkybutt
Rating: T
Word Count: 1,996
Warnings: Homophobia, Implied Homophobic Acts
AN: I ended up scrapping the age gap part of the imagine because I had an idea after getting inspired while listening to My Hallelujah - Autoheart. 
Jim watched you work in the kitchen, making El her lunch and helping her finish up a history project. The home that you shared wasn't much but as long as you were there it was more than enough. He walked further into the room, stepping away from his place along the wall of the hallway. You'd already started brewing coffee early in the morning and Jim pressed a kiss to the top of your head before grabbing a mug and pouring himself a drink.
He sat at the table next to El ready to continue gluing down photos on the poster-board she had to carry. His mind was only half focused on the project at hand. Mainly he was focused on his relationship with you and the long road it had taken to get to the place where you were now.
There was always a sense of attraction to men. It had always been there for Jim, it wasn't something he had to think about, it wasn't something that just suddenly appeared. It simply was. While guys around him were starting to talk about their attraction to girls he remembered having the same feeling, just, towards men. 
He'd never thought of himself being in a relationship with a man. He'd never believed that was something a man could do, so he didn't. Rather he grew up, became police chief, got married, and had a kid. For the most part he was happy, but he wasn't in love.
It had taken a long while for him to admit that his attraction to men was normal and not something that was going to go away. The divorce really pressed him into reevaluating himself and what he found out about himself was simple. Jim Hopper was a gay man. It was freeing to say but he was truly petrified. Acceptance was everything and the fact that there were so many risks associated with coming out was terrifying.
There was everything to lose he thought and so he kept quiet. Until you came back to Hawkins.
You'd been accepted to a college in New York and left Indiana that summer never looking back. Sure you came back for the holidays but that was spent hiding from everyone you had gone to high school with. Minus a handful of elect people you really wanted to forget everything about high school including where that high school was located.
New York was the vast city you'd been looking for and the writing inspiration that you had been greatly looking for. New York was more accepting of you than Indiana was. There were still people who made the same homophobic comments as always yet you felt as though you didn't have to completely hide yourself. It felt as though you were meant to be there and it felt like that until the breakup.
You'd met him at a bar. It was a whirlwind relationship, the two of you deciding to move in together after only a few months. At the time it seemed like a good idea, you enjoyed being with him, why shouldn't you enjoy living with him? But dating someone and living with someone were two separate things. 
He disappeared. He always returned yet there were nights you'd stay up wondering where he was, nights wondering if he was with someone else. Living together meant you saw sides of him that he'd tried to keep hidden before. There was mystery in a relationship when you don't live with your partner but now all you saw was someone who kept inconsistent hours. Someone who would cancel dates and then never come home until the afternoon the next day.
Maybe the red flags had been there the entire time and you'd missed them. Maybe it wasn't exactly him running out on you. There were a lot of maybe's the greatest of them all just being the word: wait. 
Waiting was all you seemed to do in this relationship.
Waiting was all you seemed to do in New York.
You'd gone there to find love and be a published author. Neither seemed to be coming true. 
A failure in love and in career is what you'd deem yourself. So you left. You left him and you left New York, going back to an apartment in Hawkins. You were going home.
Once you were settled in back home you spent most of your time writing and avoiding people from high school. Maybe moving to New York before you had anything published was a bad idea, but becoming a writer was your plan and you'd continue to keep writing no matter what. Rejections only made way for acceptance in the world of published authors.
The first time you ran into anyone was at the grocery store. Damn the frozen food aisle.
Jim was making a quick stop at the store on the way home. The Eggo waffle stash was being depleted and he had to restock. It was simple: go in, grab waffles, pay and leave. But how was anything simple nowadays in Hawkins? How could he go anywhere without something happening to him?
He stood there in front of the freezer door trying to find the right waffles. Was it Homestyle or Buttermilk that El liked? Should he get chocolate chip as well? Waffles were an important decision. The sound of cart wheels coming down the aisle made him look up, and there you were.
Like most of Hawkins, Jim had heard that you were back home. You'd gone to school together and Jim had truly never expected to see you again after graduation. He'd known you only barely back in high school, you'd had a few classes together but weren't always running in the same friend circles. Jim had assumed that if he ran into you at all once you came back it would be fine but seeing you there was like being back in high school. Floundering and becoming flustered because there you were and damn if he wasn't very much infatuated with you.
You'd had a crush on Jim since the first moment you'd seen him freshman year of high school. With time you'd assumed that it would just dissipate. With the years that passed you'd assumed there'd be no amount of attraction left to be had. But seeing him there, those same feelings seemed to come back nearly instantly.
Jim was there for waffles, you were there for frozen vegetables. That was all it was supposed to be. And then suddenly you're there for fifteen minutes talking about coming home and how home had changed and what New York was like and catching up in general. You were both nervous, both struggling to make a conversation work in the middle of being overwhelmed by feelings of attraction. 
You'd never so much believed in fate before returning home but suddenly you were running into Jim everywhere. It was odd, of course people changed over time but you'd never known him to be one to avoid eye contact, or one to become shy quite quickly yet that's what seemed to happen in every conversation. He even acted nervous when you had to call him over to check out your car after it had been broken into. There was always a voice in the back of your head that told you to ask him out but that voice was wrong because there was no way that Jim Hopper would ever say yes.
Months were passing by quickly and still Jim was feeling like he was back in high school every time he had seen you. Still that same kid who couldn't be around you because he had the biggest crush on you. Only this time he wasn't a kid trying to figure out if there was something wrong with him because he was attracted to guys, no this time he knew who he was, it was just a matter of letting everyone else know. He would prepare for the consequences as they arose but he was ready.
The first person that Jim Hopper ever came out to was El. She was his daughter and if he was even going to begin attempting to date anyone she needed to be aware of who might, after many dates to see if they were even worth meeting El, come around on occasion. She was confused at first but caught on quickly. Caught on quicker than he'd anticipated, especially when she questioned him about asking you out. He honestly wasn't aware of how much he spoke about you.
But she was right, that's exactly what he was going to do.
Asking you out in the middle of a parking lot probably wasn't the most romantic thing. But the middle of a parking lot is where he happened upon you next. You were confused at first when he mentioned dinner, and only more confused when he brought up the fact that it was meant as him asking you on a date. 
After a very specific line of questioning Jim opened up to you, revealing that yes, he was gay and yes he was asking you out very sincerely. You had to admit that it was quite odd finding out the man you had been attracted to way back in high school had been attracted to you then, the only problem was that he hadn't figured himself out quite yet. But that didn't matter because here you were now, accepting a date with him years later. Maybe coming back home to Hawkins was good for a lot of things.
The relationship progressed slowly for a few reasons. Jim had never dated a man before and this was an entirely new experience. Being closeted he was used to dating women and while there wasn't too much of a difference there still was a learning curve when it came to the nervousness of being a gay couple in public. Hawkins turned out to be more accepting than he or you had originally thought. He'd come across a few people who thought he was going to Hell for being with you but he didn't really believe in Heaven or Hell and he still had his job which meant he could still take care of El, so what was the point. You were also taking things slowly because Jim had been informed of the way your last relationship had gone, moving to quickly may not have been the problem but it wasn't really all that helpful.
It had taken four dates before Jim kissed you and ten dates before he even held your hand in public.
It had taken six months for you to meet El and you only met her because she insisted to Jim that it was time.
It had taken a year before you told him you loved him and he said the words right back.
It had taken a year and a half before you moved in with him and El.
It had taken a lot of time and there had been a lot of firsts in this relationship with Jim. You were content, overwhelmingly happy, and so was he. 
He rose from glueing pictures to put his mug in the sink. El grabbed her lunch from the counter and you followed the two of them to the door making sure that they each had everything for the day. El went out to the car and Jim kissed you goodbye, letting you know that he'd be picking up dinner and that he had one more chapter left in the manuscript you'd given him.
New York seemed so far away now. You'd gone there to get away from Hawkins, Indiana although somehow Hawkins, Indiana pulled you right back. There were never any regrets from that time because that's what seemed to have been needed. Time. Time had given you what you wanted.
You were happy now. Just you, the chief of police, and a teenage girl with powers. A family.
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Promptsmas Day One: First Snow!
//This is for @spiderman-homecomeme​ and her Promptsmas prompts! I am so excited about it, and I wanna thank her for being a beautiful human!
**Special thanks for @im-just-bri for sending me the screenshots of this after I accidentally deleted it!
Prompt: First Snow
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Peter has grown used to Michelle Jones over the past few months, in the same way someone acquires a taste for fine wine. 
In the first few weeks of their friendship, her sarcastic remarks and dry sense of humor caught him off-guard. he had not known what to do the first time she fell asleep on his sofa during a sleepover with him and Ned, and Peter had never quite known what to do when he could tell that she was upset about something.
But it only took a few months, because now, Peter is “fluent in MJ.”
Now, he is well-versed enough in her humor to be able to quip back, and he and Ned have gotten used to draping their friend’s preferred blanket over her curled-up, sleeping form. Peter knows now that when MJ is upset, there is only one way to fix it: chocolate chip waffles and TV-show marathons with her and with Ned.
All this said, even if it feels like they’ve been friends for forever, Peter and Ned have only been friends with MJ since the end of sophomore year. This means that there is one thing that the trio hasn’t faced together: winter. As it becomes colder, Peter begins to notice little things about MJ that he has never seen before. As the temperature drops, he adds more and more tidbits to the growing collection of what he knows about their brunette best friend.
He learns that for some reason MJ does not seem to think that she needs a winter coat. She uses hoodies and jean-jackets every day, as if they are perfectly capable of shielding her willowy figure from the cold, and she refuses to accept any offer of a jacket from Peter or Ned. She does own a scarf, though, as well as a pair of fingerless gloves. She almost never takes off the gloves over the course of the entire school day. though MJ gives no reason for this, Peter privately knows that he has discovered something else about her that he did not know about her before-- her hands are always cold.
There are other things he begins to notice, too. Hot chocolate stars to be used as a substitute for tea in the mornings, and every so often Peter and Ned catch a glimpse of fuzzy socks that have been squeezed into her combat boots. Doodles of mittens and scarves begin to replace MJ’s normal sketches of autumn leaves on the corner of her papers. But there is one thing that Peter cannot seem to figure out about her now: MJ is glued to her weather app.
Peter catches her on her phone a lot more regularly than she ever has been before, and she refuses to cite the reason. She isn’t talking to anyone, Peter is sure, because she never appears to be typing a text (not that Peter keeps tabs on her relationship status or anything, though). However, there have been several points in time that Peter has caught her refreshing AccuWeather in the middle of AP Chem.
It’s only when MJ completely drops her phone from excitement that Peter realizes what it is.
It happens on a Monday in fourth hour. MJ’s sharp gasp of excitement catches Peter by surprise, but what really causes him to pay attention is when the cracked iPhone 5 clatters to the floor. The phone skitters across the floor, spinning slowly until it comes to a stop at the foot of Mr. Cobbwell. The sound is enough to make Peter look up from where he is working on improving the web-fluid, and the entire class is looking up now, too. Cobbwell peers back at them with a look of disapproval on his face, one that causes MJ to tense beside him.
“Is something the matter, Miss Jones?” prompts the teacher, raising an eyebrow as he sets down the dry-erase marker he was using.
“No, I, um...” MJ says quickly, her eyes suddenly widening.
She seems to be frozen by all of the eyes in the class on her. MJ is normally one of the most relaxed people that Peter knows, but he also knows that she doesn’t always know how to handle attention. It even took her a while to get used to being noticed by Peter and Ned.
“I was grabbing something from her bag for her, and I knocked it out,” Peter speaks up, gesturing to the bag that is on the table between them. “It’s my bad, sir. Can I grab it?”
Cobbwell hesitates for a moment, but after a second his face softens. Peter knows that both he and MJ have a good standing with him, since Peter is the only one who laughs at his science puns and MJ returns one of her own every once in a while.
“Alright, Mr. Parker. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he decides, and Peter slides out of his seat in order to grab the phone with the worn, purple case. As soon as he has it, Peter returns to his seat and sits down beside MJ.
As soon as the lesson resumes, MJ glances back over at him with an acutely uncomfortable expression on her face. “Sorry,” she mutters, allowing a piece of hair that has escaped from her curly ponytail to fall into her eyes. “Thanks, Parker.”
She reaches for her phone, but before he hands it over, Peter turns it over and peers at the screen. There is a lightbulb moment in his head, and a smile plays with his lips as he passes it back.
“So, an 85% chance of snow on Friday, huh?” he comments as she takes the phone. He knows that the smug grin isn’t gone as she slides the phone into the pocket of her bomber jacket. He is pleased because he finally understands why she’s been on her phone so much, finally gets this one little piece of her.
MJ has been waiting for the first snow.
“Shut up, loser,” she instructs as she returns to her online notes. That isn’t enough to get peter off of her scent, though. He can see that she is struggling to keep him from noticing the rosy tinge of her skin, the reddened tips of her ears.
He doesn’t bring it up for the rest of the day, though Peter can see she is waiting for him to do so. Still, he doesn’t say anything in front of Ned, even though it’s become a habit of theirs to recap for him what happened in the one class the three of them don’t share. Ned is stuck next door in AP Computer Science, so he normally gets a play-by-play of the entire class... But not today. Peter lets her be lulled into a false sense of security over the course of the week as Friday rolls around, with all of its anticipation in tow.
Peter can see it in every inch of her body-- an excited sort of tension in her muscle, a skip in her step as she walks. Peter pretends not to notice it, but the gleam in her eyes is just enough to warm his chest a bit, despite the bite in the air. She is barely being subtle about her phone anymore as she checks the the hourly forecast, but this is to Peter’s advantage.
MJ is so preoccupied with her own phone that she does not see Peter doing the exact same thing.
It is scheduled to come during Chem, so Peter keeps an eye on the window the entire class period. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches the sky of swollen gray clouds, clouds that are waiting to unleash flurries of thick snow onto the city. Peter can’t help but feel the childlike excitement brewing in his chest now. According to the app, it’s supposed to happen any moment, and the lesson has just begun. Peter’s mind has never been farther from thermochemistry.
And once he sees it, the subject matter flies out of his head, out the window, and into the air, which is carrying the first new, fresh flakes.
Peter glances quickly at the girl next to him, who is so focused on her phone that she has not noticed the flakes yet. It is then that Peter sneaks out his own phone and sends a quick text to Ned.
now.
Not even thirty seconds after Peter sneaks his phone back into his pocket, there is a flickering of the lights, and then the classroom is plunged nto darkness. There is a startled murmur that ripples throughout the room, and it is then that Peter acts.
“MJ,” he hisses as Cobbwell struggles to regain control of the class.
In the darkness, Peter can see the outline of MJ’s face, which is lit by the cool winter light coming through a single window. She does not even turn to him, still scrolling through her AccuWeather.
“What?” she hums. “Parker, in case you didn’t notice, we’ve just gone full dystopian novel, so it’s not the best time for me to help you with the homework problems. Maybe if you want to get ready for the Hunger Games together, we can talk-”
“What? No,” Peter interrupts, a grin forming on his lips. “Come on. We’ve only got a couple minutes to get out.”
“Get out?” MJ repeats, and now she’s looking up from her phone. “I was kidding, loser, not-”
“It’s snowing,” Peter states, dropping each word with equal weight, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.
MJ stares at him blankly for a moment, and then a playful grin crosses her face. “No way,” she finally laughs under her breath, shaking her head. The laugh, the smile, cause his heart to skip a beat for some reason. “Even you two nerds aren’t that good.”
“Aren’t we?” Peter hums smugly, thinking about the time they completely hacked Tony Stark’s own spideysuit. “Come on. Do you want to go, or not?”
MJ peers at the open door, then back at him. One last glance is spared for the window, where the snow is coming down in increasing speed. Then, finally, she turns back to him.
“You first, then me,” she instructs.
Without another word, Peter says something to Cindy Moon about going to grab his homework from his locker. As he heads out, Peter can hear MJ asking Abe to tell Cobbwell that she had to go to the bathroom. He is out the door first, and then a moment later MJ practically materializes by his side with a bathroom pass in her pocket and a little grin on her face.
“Come on, before someone sees,” she instructs, and before Peter can fully process what’s happening, she grabs his forearm and begins to run down the hallway.
For some reason, as they run, blood rushes to Peter face. He has run down this hallway many times before-- to save people from a bus crash, to go and stop a robbery in progress, and even to fight with Liz’s dad. But this is a good reason to be running, and he is all too aware of the warmth that her hand leaves on his arm as they turn and sneak out one of the building’s side doors and onto the path to the football field.
For a moment, the cold air washes over them, and Peter can feel both of their muscles tense. Then, MJ tugs him father away from the building and into the openness of the courtyard behind the school. 
The snow is falling in thick, fluffy flakes that stick together in the air, forming chains of cottony, clumpy snow. They flakes are so large that they appear to be spun from sugar, the sort of snow that is everywhere in the air. It surrounds them, as far as he can see, falling so slowly that is seems suspended in the air. peter feels like he is inside of a snow globe with her.
MJ is frozen still, and Peter’s eyes travel to her face as she takes it in and ignores him completely. He doesn’t mind being ignored in the least-- he would much rather be free to study the childlike wonder in her eyes, the awe that is written into every line and curve of her face as she blinks, disrupting the flakes that have settled onto her long lashes.
For a moment, Peter can’t breathe, because she looks like she belongs here and nowhere else.
The snow nestles into her kinky curls, dusts her shoulders, and settles on her long lashes as she tips her face slightly up to the sky. For a moment, her eyes close entirely, and she seems to be drinking in the cold air and the caresses of the snowflakes as they fall down around her.
For a second, Peter wonders what it would be like to slide his arm away slightly, so she was gripping his hand in that same gentle grasp that encircles his forearm.
But then, her eyes open, and they are wild with excitement. “Come on!” she insists. “We have to do that lame thing where we catch snowflakes on our tongues. For scientific purposes.”
“Scientific purposes?”
“Gotta taste those chemicals the corporations are pouring into the atmosphere, Parker. Come on.”
And then, they spend a good ten minutes outside tasting the snow and letting it settle in their hair and on their shoulders. Peter knows it is borrowed time, that Ned is going to have to come up with a good excuse later and that he and MJ are going to have to be extra convincing when it comes to their return to class.
But none of that matters as Peter Parker watches Michelle Jones spin like a child in the center of the school courtyard, with snow in her hair and an easy smile on her lips. All that matters is that he gave her that smile, the one that drives away the winter chill and leaves him with only her warmth.
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strikecommanding · 5 years
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for the secret santa event, i had @clareguilty!! i had a lot of fun writing this piece bc i love brigitte and i rarely write soft things, so i hope you enjoy :D
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Between going out on the field and fixing up her armor in the workshop, Brigitte was a very busy squire. In spite of it all, she always made it a point to set aside some time for you. You were never demanding of her attention, but you did cherish every moment spent with her since dates these days had been scarce.
Though your girlfriend had promised to do anything you wanted once she had some free time, you were considerate of her well-being before making any decisions. Being a hero was tiring work, after all, and you didn’t want to stress her out more when she was supposed to be unwinding. You could think of nothing better to treat her to than a visit to her favorite ice cream shop.
Brigitte accepted your offer graciously by ordering a large waffle cone of her favorite rocky road ice cream, as well as a pint of it to bring home and save for later. You ordered a single scoop of mint chocolate chip and you couldn’t help but laugh at the look on her face as you both stepped out of the store. “What?”
“You’re basically eating frozen toothpaste,” she remarked, only making you laugh harder.
“It’s an acquired taste,” you argued in defense of it. Just as you were about to cross the street, Brigitte’s hand instinctively flew in front of you and made you realize you hadn’t even stopped to check for cars. Sheepishly, you let her make sure the coast was clear before walking ahead with her, hand in hand. You offered your cone up to her and said, “Try some.”
You were sure she’d scrunch up her nose and tighten her lips just as she had earlier, but she was surprisingly receptive when she leaned towards you in acquiescence. Unsurprisingly, however, she skipped over the ice cream entirely and went straight for your lips. You shivered at the feeling of her silky tongue sliding across your bottom lip, swiping up a lick of mint that had apparently been there. When she straightened up with a self-satisfied look on her face, your cheeks were so hot they could have melted your treat. “Maybe it’s not so bad after all.”
“Cheeky,” you sputtered, wearing an embarrassed smile as you fell into step with her on a stroll through the park. While Brigitte was more into weights than cardio, she was familiar with the area because she sometimes jogged through here. Now, however, her pace was slow and easy as you idled alongside her.
Your smile reached her face as well as she leaned over, gently and affectionately bumping her head against yours. “I missed you.”
You squeezed her hand and rubbed comforting circles against her skin with your thumb. “Don’t overwork yourself, Brig. Heroes need rest too.”
“I know. You’re right,” she agreed, reluctant to pull away from you until a distant sound caught her ear. You heard it as well, the distressed cries of what sounded like a cat coming from somewhere outside of your view. When you followed Brigitte’s gaze, you found a young Russian blue perched precariously atop a very high tree branch. “Uh oh.”
“Should we call Reinhardt? He might be tall enough that he can just jump up and grab it,” you suggested, watching your girlfriend step toward the tree and look it up and down appraisingly. “Brigitte?”
“Babe, can you hold this?” she asked as she handed off both her cone and pint of ice cream to you. When she stretched her arms and rolled the kinks out of her shoulders, it took all your discipline not to stare at the way her impressive biceps bulged. “I used to climb trees all the time when I was a kid. This’ll be a piece of cake.”
Before you could even call out to her to be careful, she was already latching onto the tough bark of the tree and surging upward. Brigitte was tall to begin with, nearly clearing six feet, so it didn’t take long for her to reach the kitten at her pace. You watched her carefully wedge her feet against some grooves in the bark as she reached out towards it, cooing in a gentle tone to coax it out of its petrified state. After a pause, the kitten scurried into her arms and she grasped its tiny body against her chest protectively. She went back down slowly so as not to startle it, and as she descended you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.
Your immediate thought was that Brigitte was far too reckless. She was guilty of the very same thing she was always scolding Reinhardt for: charging ahead too quickly with no regard for herself. But she was so sweet in how she handled the kitten that it had you thinking twice about scolding her as well. Holding it up and surveying it, she remarked, “No collar… We’ll have to stop by the animal shelter before we go back to base.”
Brigitte’s impulsiveness always had golden intentions. She did good as if it were a matter of course, not because it was asked of her. Your concern that she was overworking herself wasn’t entirely warranted since such selflessness was simply part of her nature. It was one of the many reasons why you loved her.
When she realized the look of adoration you were glowing with, her cheeks became pink and she asked, “What is it?”
You just shook your head dismissively as you scratched the kitten’s chin and stood on your tiptoes to plant a sweet kiss on your girlfriend’s lips. Soon you had them both purring in the palm of your hand. “You’re my hero, Brig.”
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vegandoughnut · 5 years
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PART 5: Are You Kitting Me?
"You're good to go, Anekke" says Stephen, scribbling on his clipboard as if he were actually using it for something. Anekke frowns.
"I can't just finish the hour?" She presses, nearly pouting.
"Fine but make sure you clock out on the dot. I just don't have the patience this evening" Stephen says, voice laden with an exhaustion that doesn't even make sense. Anekke continues to spray some of the food prep surfaces with the natural mint scented surface cleaner and wipes with the cleaning rag.
Humbert hums in a whiny pitch as he adds the finishing touches to another serving of the Fall Special. Black anise waffles, vibrant orange pumpkin ice cream, chocolate chips and raisins, cat face drawn with chocolate or molasses. The ingredients seem to have plastered themselves all over Anekke's brain. She mutters them to herself as she cleans.
"What's that?" Comes Humbert's voice.
She ignores him, almost laughing with relief when Kitt joins them behind the counter. Kitt looks tired, with dark circles forming under her eyes. She flashes a smile to counter it.
"You need a coffee" Anekke says.
"You've never been more right" Kitt replies, picking up the staff french press off the ceramic hot plate, and pouring herself a mug of aromatic medium roast. "I have like five minutes to snag Gary Nygard's autograph but I just can't bring myself to. This is a once in a lifetime thing. Like. He's going back to Finland at some point. The band doesn't even tour anymore. Today literally feels like a weird dream and I don't know how to move. Like I'm walking through invisible cake batter or something"
"This is not a therapy session. You have a customer Kittie" says Humbert. Kitt sucks her teeth before turning to face the rest of the cafe to take a customer's order.
"You know we already have a supervisor and a manager right?" Anekke says through clenched teeth. Even if Humbert had said it to Kumlyun instead of Kitt, she would still jump in on the defense. She was getting tired of Humbert's antics, and was glad she'd be going home soon.
Humbert grunts and gets back to putting together a catering box.
"Wow" says Anekke, shaking her head.
A customer walks up to the bar holding Salem, the chill black cat purred softly in his arms. He orders an oat milk vanilla shake. She let's Kitt take that order, then goes back to cleaning, annoyed that earlier Kumlyun had implied the mess was made by her, when really it was probably Harper who was often sloppy with the food prep and forgetful of cleaning up. But at least she made Kumlyun look bad by implying she came in on her day off on purpose.
Finally some serenity blankets the cafe when all the customers are seated and eating, drinking or petting or feeding the cats they were paired with. Anekke quickly checks her pocket planner and crosses off a few things she remembered to do.
Memorize the recipe for the blueberry muffins by heart. Check. Disinfect the sink. Check. Renew library checkouts online. Check. Schedule a dentist appointment for next week. Check. Organize the discarded customer cards into her little file folder. Check.
"Anekke"
Anekke nearly jumps out of her skin when Kitt places a hand on her shoulder from behind.
"You scared me Kitt" she says, stealthily shrugging out from under her hand.
"I seem to do that for a lot of people" she says with a frown. "Anyway, what time are you leaving? so I know when to mentally prepare for the next few grueling hours behind this counter"
"Honestly just 30 minutes to go" says Anekke, taking a sneaky bite of the energy bar she hid in her half apron.
"Okay. Thanks" says Kitt.
Carl turns to look at the counter and smiles warmly when he coincidentally catches Anekke's eye. She smiles back quickly but goes back to her resting face just as soon.
"Hey Carl, want to cover for me real quick?" Kitt calls from the bar, undoing her waist apron.
Carl walks over immediately, and almost trips over a feathered pet toy but regains his balance without much embarrassment. Anekke watches intently. Still nervous, that one.
"You'll be working with the pretty blond, she should have no problem drawing in lots of orders so you can take a few pointers" says Kitt to Carl. Anekke's head spins upon hearing the strange sentence, and she wonders what Kitt was really saying. She had to force herself not to spiral into the whirlpool forming inside of her. What does she mean? What does that mean? Is it face value? Is there a joke or jab hidden in the arrangement of the words? Why does Kumlyun complain so much? Does Kumlyun whisper lies about Anekke to Kitt? Is Kitt trustworthy? Is Kitt priming Carl against her? She said "pretty blond". Maybe she should go to HR about Kitt. That'll make things make sense.
Carl and Kitt switch places. Carl ties a waist apron on and picks up a few beechwood mixing spoons. Why?
"Break a leg" Anekke tells Kitt who walks carefully towards Gary Nygard. Kitt flashes a confident cheese smile before heading straight for the Special Guest, the charming gothic rock star who had been in the cafe since before noon.
Anekke had thought he'd looked familiar, then realized he was a member of a band that had been really popular back when she was in high school. Yuck, she thinks, picturing those cringey teenage years in her mind with distaste. It was hard to imagine Kitt was one of the spooky kids who were obsessed with vampires and fingerless gloves, but who would've imagined that "pretty blond" Anekke was a nerd with no friends? The one who, even if she tried to make a joke, it came off as awkward or distasteful? Why were these things bothering her so suddenly?
20 minutes pass. Two customers came. Carl had watched eagerly when Anekke operated the waffle maker which she hated completely. The waffles would sometimes have holes in the outer pockets around the edges if the batter didn't spread perfectly. That's why she hated it.
"See you guys on Thursday" Anekke says, gathering her khaki trench coat, personal mug and backpack. It was without really looking at anyone in particular.
A few co-workers say bye in friendly voices. Why so friendly? Do they think she's stupid? Childish?
Then Carl says, "thanks for the tip about the waffle maker. I'm sure people prefer a perfect waffle over the skeleton of one" he says with a warm smile, trying to make her laugh probably. Anekke nods then goes out the door, relieved beyond words.
Kitt pulls her fingers through her dreads, which were the color of fallen leaves--- the characteristic Autumn hue between plum and red. She felt just slightly embarrassed to meet one of her teenage rock idols looking like a millennial-barista-spoken-word-slam-night-attendee-who-keeps-a-million-potted -succulents-around-their-house person, but so it goes. Some of teen-life's craziest caterpillars emerged from their cocoons as less stand-outy butterflies.
But there he was. Gary Nygard looking exactly the same, though less dressy, as she remembered during the heyday of Finnish metal's popularity in her generation. Jetty curtains of hair. The cozy cat skull sweatshirt over the pants with the boots. Gosh his legs were so perfectly thin. Kitt shakes her head.
"Darling" Nygard's voice steals Kitt's attention as he strokes just under the fuzzy siamese cat Sandra's chin. He is smiling slightly. "Is all well?" he says nodding towards her, like he could sense her trepidation, "this is a lovely place, beautiful really. Tell your boss, see, to keep doing whatever he or she is doing to keep it going. The cats are so dear, and you, all of you, have been lovely hosts"
He's so sweet and down to earth and candid and Scandinavian and beautiful and what inspired that song.... and will the band ever get back together and what does he do now that the band is... omg stop brain, stop it.... Kitt thinks.
"How long has the place been running for? It seems like a very hip sort of thing, an import, from Japan maybe... lovely country, Japan. They're very nice there" he continues as Sandra squirms and scratches at his sweater. But Gary Nygard is on to the silly cat, trying to distract her by scratching behind her ears while her head is turned in the opposite directions.
Kitt's mouth opens and closes. She blinks a mile a minute yet there's no wind in her face.
"Just a few years" Kitt responds, finding her composure again and holding onto it for dear life. "Yeah cat cafes, well, themed cafes in general, seem to be way more popular over there. This is kind of a knock---"
"A knock-off, but very nice" he finishes for her with a chuckle. He scratches his head then throws back the last of his green smoothie, Sandra sitting snugly nuzzled into his side on the velvet highback chair. Kitt watches the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows the drink, the pale white of his throat exposed and blinding.
Suddenly she forgets that she can language, and just clasps and un-clasps her hands.
"It was lovely. Truly" he says, getting up from the chair. All 5'10 of him. Sandra scampers off across the cafe to bother some of the other kitties. "Kittie? Was that your name? Good girl" he mutters, pulling on his faux fur jacket. Kitt stands there dumbly.
She is frozen as he crosses the room towards the front door. She pretends to go fix tables near there then discreetly says, "wait. Sorry just a minute"
He stops and turns to face her, pulling a dark grey beanie over his hair and looking more and more like a mysterious pedestrian, becoming less and less real at the same despite. He was crossing the threshold of Kitt's world, reality, back into the far away world of teen angst nostalgia and dreams come true and old fires doused.
"I was a big fan when I was high school..." she says, quietly, softly, only he could hear.
He grins. A warm and genuine smile that touches his eyes that turn up slightly at the outer corners, like a cat's. He hands her his VIP customer lanyard and tag with his name and personality notes on there in his real life, almost-neat handwriting. The one thing customers usually toss.
"Thank you for today, Kittie" he says, with a brief, too light pat on her shoulder.
Then he's out the door.
Just like that.
A dream.
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