cverture-a

[cverture-a]

THIS is the one I meant to remember, hello lmao

[cverture-a]

WOO! I remembered it and it only took me 3 other tries!!!  anyway, most of you know by now but this blog moved to @cvertures

[cverture-a]

i just logged on here by accident for the first time in along time and um how did this happen

[cverture-a]

I’m not getting on here anymore but uh you can find some of the babies @ bcingalive!

[cverture-a]

Aunt May and Peter + Thai food puns

[cverture-a]

gonna revamp later/this weekend. need a fresh start, you feel?

[cverture-a]

I’ll be back here eventually I just uuuughhhhh

[cverture-a]

boop. i’m tired. i’ve been elsewhere. catch me on discord??

[cverture-a]

[cverture-a]

[cverture-a]

unworthyheart:

      drying his hands, ward had been about to head back upstairs when she questioned him once again. he wanted to sigh, wishing she wouldn’t make him choose these things. he could hardly think about food after he ate, it made him feel nauseous. he turned back to her a little begrudgingly, lips pursed. though his expression was bland enough, there was a hint of irritation in his eyes as he mulled over what he’d even want. something healthy enough, nothing heavy—he couldn’t afford to eat anything with too many calories. he wasn’t allowed to work out while his stitches were healing which meant no push ups, no running, no kind of body twisting and he did not want to gain any weight by sitting around unable to burn it off.        he was quiet a moment, thoughtful, before he spoke, “ stir fry. ” he said decidedly, “ with chicken.  any kind of vegetables can be in it. ” he gave a careless shrug, going to fill his glass with water. he knew she was curious about him, about what happened to him and he was more than a little surprised she hadn’t asked yet. he was partly grateful that she hadn’t, he wouldn’t have answered her truthfully anyways but from the look in her eyes, he could tell she had many questions she was simply withholding. perhaps she was even trying to figure him out. good luck. he thought before, “ if you keep a tab of how much I owe you, I’ll pay you back in full once I’m out of your hair. ” there was a building that held a locker full of his things, including guns, passports and multiple bundles of cash.

Stir fry. She could work with that. Sadie wasn't particularly skilled in Asian cuisine, but she was willing to give it a shot if it meant providing comfort. It felt clear to her that he was in need, though she gathered he would scarcely find the need to express such a thing. She was learning more, even despite his ostensible inclination to remain unknown.

“I’m not worried about the money.” Personal finance was something she was not at all concerned with. She wasn’t wealthy, by any means, but her modest career provided enough that she would not be lacking in the things she needed simply from sharing with someone else. Sadie would not be put out by spending a little more on food and various items than she normally would. Clearing her throat, she offered a sincere glance. “I’m worried about you.”

[cverture-a]

theimpalpable:

 Oh, there it is. There, exactly; the curiosity which, perhaps, had been prodding for far too long but never dared to rear its head until today. He expected that, someday, she’d get tired of his silence; of the rivers he hadn’t spilled. And, truth be told? She had every right to question him. After all, friendship was a two way street —— she couldn’t just talk and not receive anything in return; he couldn’t just know Sadie without her knowing nothing but his name and his love for tea. 

 “The topic never really surfaced, I suppose. Lack of a chance, I reckon.” His voice was soft; not defensive nor bothered by her wish to know MORE. On the whole contrary. He welcomed it; was GRATEFUL that she was interested in HEARING his story. Before, he would’ve HESITATED, but now, he TRUSTED her enough to open chapters of his book. Bright eyes looked at her; chuckle leaving his lips after noticing the USE of familiar words. “That’d be lovely, Sadie. I’d be more than glad to tell you about myself, if that’s what you wish to talk about today.” A pause was taken; arms getting carefully folded in front of his chest. “Is there something you wish to know in particular, or should I start from the beginning?” 

“Start where you feel comfortable.” Sadie was happy, for one, that he did not protest to her offer. It was so often that he was had been there for her, literally and metaphorically holding her hand as a guide in her healing process. He didn’t need to do this. He chose to. It was only natural for her to want to provide the same comfort, though she wondered if maybe the best comfort was for her not to ask him to rehash old conflicts. “But first! I promised tea.” She offered one singular nod, though was sure not to face her whole back to her as she turned to find the teapot she purchased early on in her residence. Sure, generally when she was drinking the particular beverage it was Domenic whom had prepared it, but she did quite enjoy a piping cup of chamomile late at night when she had a hard time sleeping. “I don’t have anything fancy, but I bought some nice tea biscuits. If you’re interested?”

[cverture-a]

“you cooked, it’s only fair that i clean.” /@sadie

domesticity! | @unworthyheart

“You won’t hear any complaints from me.”  Brow raised, she remained sitting at the table, eyes wearily trained on him. She was studying to see how he was managing, how he was handling his recovery. By now, he was healing in superb fashion: she would credit it to the antibiotics she had to remind him to take every twelve hours, which he did obstinately. She won the battle, at least, but it worked out in his favor. He was opening up to her more, and his offer to clean up after their meal was proof of that.

Sometimes she was sure she could see traces of a smile on his face, or dim-lit traces of a glow in his eyes, and usually at something as inconsequential as the a song on the radio or a particularly nice day they would be blessed with. He was still distant, mind you, but her little victories were sprouting more often than they had been when she had first brought him home. “You know, i’m performing a few songs at this festival thing they’re doing in town tomorrow. There’s supposed to be street vendors and everything. You know, food carts and crafts. One of those things. You should come. It’d be nice for you to get out. Explore Nashville a little.”

[cverture-a]

“i haven’t shaved in like a week.” @ sadie

domesticity! | @codesworn

“I know, and it looks good on you.” Sadie grins, digits adoringly caressing the growth of facial hair upon his face. She’s been looking at him differently for the past few days -- more in the sense that she can’t seem to keep her hands off of him nor apparently resist the desperate urge to kiss him. It’s enough that she finds him attractive on his own, but the recent addition? It was almost too much. There’s just something about a bearded man. In this case, a bearded man she just so happens to be head over heels for. The reciprocation still amazes her, despite the longevity of their relationship. Despite the family they were cultivating. She still seemed to love him more and more each day, as impossible as she feels it is. Veering her face closer, eyes drift from the beard to his icy-blue eyes and she’s disarmed. “Chris Argent, you…”

She can’t finish the sentence, simply at a loss for words. She loves him. She knows he knows.

[cverture-a]

Mobile and at work, but it only gave me like 3 notifications so if you aren’t Logan or Alex, I didn’t see anything from the past few days :l

[cverture-a]

unworthyheart:

      he sat there, seemingly uninterested until she placed the pancakes down on a plate in front of him. as she waved her hand from how hot they were he was tempted to scold her as some sort of friendly teasing but he knew it would come out more mockingly so he held his tongue. he waited until she was back to him before he lifted his fork and transferred the pancakes onto his own plate. he spread a thin layer of butter over them, then took a look at the syrup. he read the label and gave a small shrug when she wasn’t looking, pouring some over top his breakfast. he hesitated a moment until he felt his stomach twist with hunger and gave in, cutting into the pancakes. they were fluffy, they were delicious. he did his best to keep his face impassive but there was a shine of delight in his eyes.        ward was practically stuffing his face when sadie glanced back at him to speak—he paused a moment, swallowing before bringing his napkin to his face. the pancakes were gone and so was a piece of toast. a brow rose as he almost reluctantly looked over at her. he had never had a place with a gated backyard, the estate that his parents lived at had a huge plot of well groomed land that backed onto a creek. he pushed the thought of his childhood home back into its lockbox, it didn’t matter anymore—the place had burnt to the ground. he had burnt it to the ground. he would have scoffed but the offer, to feel some sun on his skin—it was something he had been craving since being locked away in the vault. “ mm, ” was all he said as he rose from the table carefully, one hand hovering over his aching ribs before collecting his plate. 

        hesitating only a moment, he placed his dish beside a couple others next to the sink. turning to sadie he gave her the closest thing to a smile, “ the pancakes were good, thank you. ” it was only a brief glance before he turned back to wash any syrup from his hands, eyes focused on the task and not her reaction.

In the few days he had been in her charge, she learned rather quickly that he would be a tough egg to crack. He was withholding, and with bullets in his gut, why shouldn’t he be? There was more to the story, but she found herself wondering if she would ever become privy to his last adventure, or simply to his story. Where did he come from? Where did he intend to go? Long ago she had been taught the virtue of accepting small victories, and once again it seemed to become relevant in her life. Grant eating the pancakes (with satisfaction, she gathered, even despite his inscrutable expression) was her small victory of the morning.

What she didn’t expect was a second, nor what she would consider to be a third. Sadie was uncertain of her own surprise at the expression he offered as he approached the sink, situated immediately beside the appliance she was still standing at. Was that a smile? A grimace? Eyebrows lifted, though she afforded a nod and turned her attention back to the frying pan. He thanked her and carried on, but it was something she would mull over for the next few moments. There are a myriad of questions she had for him, but instead she settled casually on, ”What do you think you’ll want for dinner? And don’t go saying anything I make, I’m making a trip to the market and I wanna know what you like.”

[cverture-a]

“do you think we should just order in tonight?” ( brody @ beth )

LET’S BE DOMESTIC! | @straiightfromtheheart

“Well, we both know I’m not cooking anything…” Beth was scarcely capable of feeding herself without the assistance of take out. It was a wonder she had survived this long, though she had some basic skills when it came to the kitchen. Basic. Ground floor. Fundamentals. She’d watched Brody cook before, though. It was impressive, by her standards. “I kinda want something…noodle-y.”