#Bratwurst is ready for bed after all

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Dannt has zero self preservation! Like none

The Bats are trying to catch him for questioning because hes been running around causing trouble (for baddies :/) but hes too damn slippery. He just some how manages to vanish?? (They don’t know hes got them ghost powers)

Soon it becomes a contest between The Bats. Who can catch the Hazard (thats what they call him cause he wears a hazmat and always shows up to trouble) nothing is working and some how he always manages to get the bait. Idk what bait they would be using but by god does Danny steal it.

One night at dinner they are all talking about it and someone jokes about him being a ghost. It’s like he can walk thru walls, disappear, and fly. Hes much more unique than the other guys No one takes it seriously and they go on with their topic.

Idk which Bat it is but one of them decides hey fuck it im a be funny and set a ghost trap. Hell im even gonna buy this shitty “Fentonworks Catch Any Ghost With The FentonTarp” thing and it’s gonna be so funny. Now for the bait! It’s all a big joke so they bait it with something funny like a smoothie or the newest play station idk man, I like the idea of it being food.

Anyway cut to Danny getting stuck in the trap and being like “uhhhh I get to keep this though right?”

[byllsbytch]

Dinner for 2 (+3) - Tokio Hotel

Word Count: 1,042

Returning to your hometown brought a sense of comfort and reunion with loved ones that you had missed during your time on tour. Reuniting with your parents was particularly heart-warming, and the embrace at the bus port was long overdue. You eagerly shared stories of your travels, the nightly adventures, the diverse cuisines you had sampled, and the experience of sleeping in a cabin while on the road.

After quickly unpacking and doing some much-needed laundry, you settled into your own bed, revelling in the familiar comfort that touring had deprived you of.

Seeing as the boys haven't been to your house yet you flicked them a quick message of having a games night. Honestly, you wouldn't be too devastated if they pull out, You've just gotten away from each other and you knew for a fact that you were exhausted from all the late nights and hangovers.

To your delight, all the boys responded that they would come over with drinks. With their arrival imminent, you decided to cook spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, a classic choice that rarely disappointed. After a quick shower and preparing the ingredients, you began tidying up the house. Just as you were setting the table with placemats, the doorbell rang, and you eagerly welcomed the four boys inside.

"Come in!" you chirped, genuinely excited to have them over. They all entered, and their noses immediately picked up the enticing aroma of the food.

"Just wait till you try it," you said with a confident smile. Tom, however, seemed surprised and disappointed.

"Wait, are you cooking it?" he asked, his expression falling.

You raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, who else would be?"

Tom teased, "Oh, maybe your mum or something? Remember when I said I was a better chef, though?"

You couldn't resist defending your culinary skills, "Tom, you can't cook better than me."

Tom countered, "Yes, I can! I can cook many delicious, authentic German foods, not this Italian stuff."

You playfully defended your choice, "What do you mean?! Italian food is so good! Or is it because you can't cook anything other than bratwursts?"

Tom rolled his eyes and went to place the drinks in the fridge, seemingly conceding the cooking challenge. Meanwhile, Gustav began setting up a game of Uno on the table, getting ready for a fun night of games and camaraderie.

As the evening progressed, the scent of simmering spaghetti and meatballs filled your home, making everyone's stomachs rumble in anticipation. You were busy in the kitchen, occasionally checking on the pasta and sauce, making sure everything was just right.

The boys, meanwhile, had gathered around the table where Gustav had set up the Uno cards. The game quickly became competitive, with each player trying to outwit the others. Tom, who had boasted about his culinary skills earlier, was now focused on proving himself as the Uno champion. Between rounds of the card game and laughter, the delicious aroma from the kitchen intensified, drawing everyone's attention back to the imminent feast. They couldn't help but comment on how amazing the food smelled, even Tom had to admit that he was looking forward to trying it.

Finally, dinner was ready, and you called everyone to the table. You started plating the spaghetti as Gustav started pouring drinks - the rest of the boys cleared and set the table.

The atmosphere in the dining room was surprisingly calm, with the boys taking their seats and preparing to feast. Georg's comment about it being civilized drew laughter from the group.

"Yeah, well, Mum would kill me if we sat on the couch," You replied with a grin, knowing how particular she was about keeping things tidy. It was a stark contrast to how things usually went when you guys were on the road. Restaurants and buffets would often be left in a state of chaos after your group had finished their meals. Teenage boys had a knack for being messy eaters and having insatiable appetites. On the bus, it wasn't uncommon to find pizza being devoured on chairs, the floor, or even in the cabins.

You watched with satisfaction as your friends took their first bites. The room was soon filled with appreciative sounds and compliments for your cooking.

Tom wasted no time and took a big bite of his food, claiming he was starving. Tom, despite his initial reservations, couldn't deny the deliciousness of the meal. His reaction was immediate delight when the sauce touched his tongue, He gave you a nod of approval between mouthfuls and he couldn't help but admit,

"This isn't half bad, I guess," while playfully sticking his nose in the air. You continued to raise an eyebrow at him

"Okay, fine, you can cook. This is really good." You couldn't resist engaging in some friendly banter, teasing Tom about his previous preference for sausages.

"Shits all over your German bratwursts," You said, trying to one-up him. Tom, not one to back down, retorted with a grin, "Hey hey! A man is more than his bratwurst." Georg couldn't help but laugh your guys antics. "Oh, don't even get me started on that dry-ass sandwich you made!" he chimed in, adding to the playful teasing. It was moments like these that made being hanging out with the boys so enjoyable. "I told you Italian food was amazing," you said with a grin.

The evening continued with a mix of Uno games, good food, and even better company. It was a perfect way to reconnect with your friends even after all your time on the road together. As the night wore on, the exhaustion from the tour began to catch up with all of you, but the joy of being back home and surrounded by loved ones made it worth every late night and hangover.

Eventually, the Uno cards were put away, and you all settled in for a cosy evening of chatting and reminiscing. The hours slipped by, and it became clear that your bond with these friends, no matter how far apart you were, crammed together or how many bratwursts Tom claimed to cook, remained as strong as ever. It was a night to remember, filled with laughter, good food, and the warmth of friendship that only your hometown could provide.

[stuffedteen]

Nico's German exchange (6/19)

A week later Nico was getting dressed in the bedroom which he shared with his exchange brother Jonas.  He had been pretty busy since he arrived in Germany - he'd wake up, throw a shirt on, head downstairs for a huge fresh breakfast made by Jonas' parents and then catch the bus to class with Jonas. 

After class they'd gorge themselves on Bratwurst and Doners with fries in town, before heading home for a second lunch made by Jonas' Dad.  Jonas & Nico never told Jonas' parents that they had already eaten in town, so Jonas' Dad would always have a big hearty meal ready for the two boys when they got home.  He would always insist that they finish it all and Nico and Jonas would be left rubbing their bloated bellies while Jonas' Dad headed off to his job at a local restaurant.  After nursing their stuffed midsections, Nico and Jonas would head out to the local pub, a party or a nightclub to drink beer and eat with Jonas' friends into the night.  They would get home late and crash straight into bed, often both sleeping together in their briefs Jonas' double bed if they weren't bothered to pull out the trundle.

It was his first Sunday with the Koch family and Nico had finally been able to have a proper sleep in.  As he slowly woke up and got dressed he noticed a half-drunk beer sitting on Jonas' bedside table.  "That must've been from last night" Nico thought to himself as he absentmindedly scratched his soft hairy belly.  He picked up the beer and stood in front of the mirror with his shirt half on.  He realised that this was the first time he'd properly looked at himself in the mirror since he arrived just over a week ago.

Looking in the mirror with the beer in his hand, Nico was shocked.  He belly looked huge, he had had a six pack and a defined v-line when he had left Italy, hadn't he?  He also looked at the dark hairy trail which now ran up his belly and the thick fuzzy hair that covered his chest and peeked out from his shirt.  Even his beard was thicken than usual.  "Holy shit! I've really let myself go" Nico said under his breath as he jiggled his softening waist.  "I've got to get back in shape" he thought as he pulled his shirt down over his soft midsection and headed towards the smell of sausages wafting up from downstairs.

[life-of-karma]

Chaotic World Of Surrey Cricketers

As the Head Chef in 2002 at The Surrey Cricketers in Windlesham, I couldn’t help but feel like I was living a real-life version of Fawlty Towers. The bar manager was an alcoholic whose relationship with the wealthy landlady was as puzzling as it was strange. I suspected she might have had a crush on him or owed him a favor from a previous liaison. Every night was just another opportunity for them to get drunk and show off to their friends.

When I first started, my second chef was unable to work independently and required constant supervision. He seemed like a good kid, but he had clearly gotten himself into trouble in the past. This was his last chance to try and get back on track.

The third chef to join us was from Liverpool — a true scouser who had a knack for getting into fights. He packed plenty of energy, always up for a good laugh and pint.

One time we found a gray squirrel stuck in the bedroom upstairs; it ended up in my room. I asked Ricky, the scouser, to guard one side of my bed, then try to trap the tiny creature when it ran out. I poked it with a broom and as planned, it ran to Ricky’s end of the bed where he had a box ready. When he saw the squirrel scrabble to jump up, Ricky made a high-pitched scream and leaped into the window frame — three feet off the ground! The squirrel escaped and ran down the stairs while Ricky clung desperately to the windowsill, so much for his gangster mentality and he would just grab it and take it outside.

It took several attempts before we could get the poor animal outside without disrupting service. Eventually, we managed to get back to work.

After several months, I had finally given the second chef a shot at running a morning shift alone. Everything was cooked and prepped when he arrived, so all he had to do was make sure the service went smoothly.

When I returned mid-service, one of the dishes wasn’t right. It was supposed to be a chicken liver salad with a red onion pickle, but what he served looked like leftovers from an animal food bowl.

When questioned, he said he couldn’t find the store-bought pickle and instead decided to sauté some brown onions in malt vinegar and use it instead. I made him taste it, much to his strong protest, and he spat it out everywhere as it tasted just as bad as it sounded.

On another occasion, he called me in a panic because the local butcher had come by demanding payments for nearly seven weeks of meat that had been supplied to the pub. I told him to contact the bar manager who had clearly neglected to pay these bills and wondered why the cuts of meat had gotten progressively worse lately.

In the kitchen, there was a joke that was used fairly often. When the waitresses came to take orders of freshly prepared food, a chef would hide a large bratwurst sausage in their pants zip and tuck it under the apron they wore.

As they went to grab the plate, They would say “wait a minute” and then wipe the plates edge with the apron and they’d lift the apron just high enough for the sausage to show, then wait for the waitresses’ usually embarrassed laughter or giggles before revealing that it was just a joke. This comedic moment led to great conversations when service ended and a funny ice breaker getting to know the waitresses and chatting to them after service.

One evening, I cooked dinner for Brian May of Queen music group amongst other famous people and this is also the place where I met my future wife.

We moved to Australia six months later and got married.

Must have been the Bratwurst sausage ;-)

[frukmerunning]

things that remind me of hetalia characters

some of these are very specific

america: the smell of fresh cut grass, a football field on a friday night, apple pie, a good drum cadence, farmers markets, shelves of american history books, historic downtowns, jazz musicians busking in new orleans, drive-in movie theaters, the smell of someone in your neighborhood grilling out, memphis barbecue, old time rock and roll

england: overcast days, too-hot tea, beans on toast, long trench-coats, empty church on a weekday, walking alone in a forest, the smell of an old library, cattails in a still pond, the riders of rohan motif from lotr, “my ex wife still misses me. BUT HER AIM IS GETTING BETTER”, talking all night with a stranger at the bar, the wind coming off the ocean, old records

france: traveling by yourself, bread and cheese, accordion playing in the next room, french impressionist piano music, a cat napping on your lap, the satisfaction of following a recipe, letting your hair down after it’s tied up, sitting on a balcony alone at night, walking around a museum by yourself, black and white movies, fruit tarts

russia: the feeling of being watched, cuddling under blankets after being out in the snow, waking up on a snow day, being out in the country completely surrounded by nature and seeing nothing for miles, the sun setting on a plain, the shared look on the train when someone does something weird, sharing a bottle of vodka, ballerinas breaking in pointe shoes

china: the faint sound of a suona 5 blocks away, the feeling of silk, a satisfying stretch, a calm rice paddy, throwing a pebble into a still lake, a busy open market, an erhu played by an old man, following your heart when adding spices, neon lights, waking up naturally at dawn, bonding with a stranger after a weird experience, seeing the great wall of china in person, the feeling you get when someone scratches your head, being nagged by someone you love, fresh fruit

germany: the quiet of the neighborhood when you run at 4:30am, the specific smell of a barnes and noble, a firm handshake, when you yell so loud your voice breaks, calling a marching band to attention, beethoven 5, the feeling you get when you finally complete your lego set after following all directions perfectly, organizing knickknacks on a shelf, cracking open a beer after a hot day, the smell of bratwurst

japan: sunrise in the summer, the quiet of the house before everyone wakes up, the smell of matcha, a row of vending machines, soft cotton, the sound of wooden chopsticks breaking apart, water running down a bamboo pipe, a calm reflecting pond filled with koi fish, the calm during a storm, sleeping in a practice room, singing by yourself in a karaoke booth

north italy: a sun room in summer in the early morning, the tense silence before an overture at the opera, flutes imitating a bird, running so fast you feel weightless, the feeling you get when a plane descends, drinking wine with lunch, when you wake yourself up and feel like you’re falling, the smell right before it rains, espresso for breakfast, your bottom lip feeling numb after playing a reed instrument for hours, snapping a string while tuning your violin

south italy: towns nestled in the sides of mountains, the climax of Nessun Dorma, caprese, feeling numb after a long cry, smashing a plate on purpose, dancing in a group, the smell after it rains, the smell of espresso, eating a big meal, slamming your hands down on piano keys, italian cut suits, old leather, finding out you and your friend hate the same person, falling asleep drunk, the grainy quality of songs from the 40s, the smell of garlic and onions cooking

austria: A440 from an oboe, an empty recital hall, rosin stains on your clothes, eating cake with a tiny fork, the swell of an orchestra all playing a crescendo together, a fast-paced viennese waltz, hearing your neighbor practicing piano, the breathless feeling after finishing a concert, sleeping in, watching someone get ready for work while you lay in bed, the camaraderie of the woodwind section in an orchestra, cherry flavored things

[leejeongz]

TO1 reaction to you feeling cold

anon requested: can you make too's reactions to you getting cold? like how they'll keep you warm and stuff :> ♡♡♡

🔅thanks for requesting! i’m sorry these are so short :( i didn’t really know how to write these tbh so i hope you don’t mind🔅

jaeyun:

jaeyun could feel you pulling to duvet up to your chin every 5 seconds and so he gathered you were feeling a little chilly. in response he turned over so he was laying on his back and patted his chest expectedly. you scooted over to him and placed your head onto his bare chest. instinctively, his arms wrapped around you and he kissed your forehead. he began to rub your back slowly, just happy that he could share his body heat with you.

“is that better?” he whispered with a sweet smile on his face.

chihoon:

a train journey in the snow was not how you wanted to spend your final day off, but what made it even worse was the huge delay announced while you were waiting on the platform.

your head instantly fell to his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his arm for warmth. your shivering didn’t go unnoticed by chihoon. “are you getting cold?” he asked, looking down towards you. you nodded shyly in repose. “let’s go and sit inside for a bit” he said, getting up and grabbing your hand. he didn’t let go of your hand until you’d warmed up, but he never made that obvious.

donggeon:

his gym was absolutely freezing, you didn’t understand how he spent so much time there.

“didn’t that 10 minute jog on the treadmill warm you up?” donggeon asked expectedly, sweat dripping from every inch of his body.

“not at all” you confessed, shivering uncontrollably. you turned to unclip yourself from the treadmill.

“here!” his exclamation made you turn around so you didn’t have much time to react to the dark red hoodie that was flying towards you “don’t make it stinky though please, that’s my job”

chan:

“so the heating doesn’t work, that’s great” he announced, slamming the front door to your shared apartment.

“but” you started, moving one of the blankets from your mouth so he could hear you better “but i’m cold” you pouted.

“me too” he pouted back, throwing himself onto the couch next to you “i suppose we could cuddle to warm up” he said, shuffling closer to you. you tossed some of the blankets on top of him while he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, ensuring your head rested on his shoulder comfortably.

jisu:

“what’s that noise?” he asked, turning from his desk to look at you on his bed. “are your teeth chattering that much???” he was so confused as to how you had gotten so cold when you were complaining just minutes ago about how hot his room was.

“i’ll go turn the heating back on” he tutted, spinning around in his chair and getting up before looking over at you once again. “unless you wanna cuddle” he winked.

if you didn’t choose the latter, that would be one very upset jisu you’d be dealing with, just saying.

minsu:

your sniffle had gotten worse throughout the day, it was probably from going out in the harsh winter weather, you thought.

“are you sick?” minsu asked, placing his hand on your forehead “oh quite the opposite, you’re freezing” he said, grabbing the blanket from beside his sofa.

he walked to the kitchen and made you both his special hot chocolate and made sure to put lots of marshmallows in yours.

“i hope this makes you feel warmer” he said, handing it to you with a concerned look on his face.

jyou:

“jeyou, i’m cold” you said quietly, twirling your hair innocently. the winter markets were a cute date idea, but your cute date outfit wasn’t providing much warmth.

jeyou looked up from his first ever bratwurst, his mouth stuffed with food. “you want my jacket?” he asked as if it was nothing. before you could even answer he’d already taken it off. he stood up after removing it and walked to your side of the bench, wrapping you in his jacket.

“my little hotdog” he giggled, returning to his seat while taking a sneaky picture of you.

kyungho:

you literally couldn’t stop shivering in the corner of the practice room, but kyungho was too engrossed in his dancing to notice. when he finally took a short break, he noticed your cold state.

“oh no baby!!! i thought i had turned the heating up. let’s go home and i’ll make you a nice hot meal to make up for it” he stood in front of you, hand ready for you to grab it. he gave you his jacket to walk home in too, he did everything in his power from that moment on to keep you warm and apologised numerous times.

jerome:

even the smallest shiver and jerome was there to wrap you in his jacket, sacrificing his own warmth for you. your late night walk during spring was no different.

“aren’t you cold?” you asked, pulling his trench coat off slightly, prepared to hand it back.

“nope, i’m not cold” he lied, pushing the jacket back onto you. “your lips are blue, i think you’re worried about the wrong person getting cold, babe” he giggled, finding your hand by your side and holding it in his confidently, swinging it around cutely.

woonggi:

“why didn’t you bring a jacket? you’re so stupid sometimes” he joked, strutting ahead of you leaving a shivering you wandering behind.

“hey, can you slow down?” you shouted, to which he whipped his head back in your direction.

he pointed towards your favourite store in town “well i was actually going to buy you that coat you wanted, but if you wanna be like that...” he shrugged, stopping and waiting for you to catch up. “i don’t need money in return, but i do need a lot of attention please” he smiled, continuing to bound towards the shop with your arm wrapped in his.

gifs aren’t mine

[justthehiddleswrites]

Nice Shirt | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary: After two years of being in a relationship with Tom, you start to question whether you are putting your own dreams aside for this relationship. You make a hard choice but is it the right one?

Warnings: Implied Smut, Drinking, Bit of Angst

-

2016

Tom couldn’t sleep after comic-com panels. The adrenaline pumped through him, and he couldn’t sleep for hours. He tried to convince Chris Hemsworth to go to the bar with him, but he begged off.

“You can talk to your wife any time. But how often do you get to bar hop in Philadelphia?”

“Nah, mate.” Chris responded. “I am absolutely wiped. But go have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Chris clapped him hard on the shoulder.

“Ehehehe.” Tom chuckled. “Of course. Brother.”

The two men parted with a hug, and Tom headed for his car.

“James…” Tom asked his driver. “Do you know any good bars?”

The man smiled in the rearview mirror. “How good?”

“The best.”

“I know just the place.”

-

You weren’t sure how you ended up at Frankford Hall, but here you were, beer in one hand, ping pong paddle in the other.

“Whoo!” you hooted as you beat the young frat guy on the other side of the table. “That’s how it’s done!”

Someone tugged on the back of your shirt, you spun wide, sloshing your beer. You weren’t drunk yet, but the buzz was flowing.

“JESS!!” you screamed. “You made it!”

You pulled your best friend into the tightest hug. She mumbled something against your chest.

“What?”

“I said…” Jess pushed off of you. “… we need to get some food into you.”

“Excellent idea.”

You linked arms and headed inside to order some food.

-

Tom reminded himself to thank James for the excellent suggestion. He never would have picked a biergarten for the night but with ping pong and authentic food. It hit the spot after a long day of photographs and signing photos.

“Hey!” a voice beside him cut through the din of the bar.

“Pardon?” Tom answered, turning to find you standing there.

“Nice shirt, Paul!”

“The name’s Tom.”

Your head ducked as you burst out into laughter.

“I was calling you Paul Bunyan. You know, the lumberjack. Plaid shirt.”

Tom glanced down, forgetting he had thrown on his well worn red plaid shirt.

“Oh, right. Eheheheh.” Tom gave a nervous chuckle.

The waiter plopped a plate in front of Tom. Bratwurst. Tom licked his lips and took a big bite, bits of sauerkraut falling to the plate.

“I like a man who can handle his sausage.” you flirted.

The waiter delivered your and Jess’s appetizers, laying the plates in front of you. Tom eyed your food while taking a big swig of beer.

“I like a woman with a big appetite.” Tom countered, turning on his stool to give you a once over.

“Good to know.” You licked your thumb after popping a bit of pretzel in your mouth. “How are you with a paddle?”

Tom choked on his beer. “I beg your pardon?”

You lifted your chin to the outside.

“Ping pong. What did you think?” You returned the favor of allowing your gaze to slide up and down his long lean body, lingering on some places more than others.

“No comment. Let me finish this beer and I will meet you out there.”

You grabbed your plates and headed outside.

“It is about time. I worried you got lost in there.” Jess grumbled as you shoved her food at her.

“Jess! You will never guess who I just ran into in there!”

-

Two Years Later

“What on earth are you doing?” Tom questioned as he viewed drawers opened and the closet door thrown ajar.

“Packing, Tom.” you sighed as you folded up shirts, deciding which ones to pack and which ones to leave behind. “That is what one does when getting ready to travel.”

“I thought we decided you weren’t going to take that job.” Tom sat down on the bed, jostling your suitcase.

Your hands gripped the once folded shirts.

“No, you talked to me for two hours about all the reasons why I shouldn’t move back to the States and then you changed the subject every time I tried to bring it back up again. But there was never any ‘we’ in this decision, Tom. I’m going.”

“Why?” Tom’s voice cracked. “I thought we… you were happy living with me here in London.”

You sighed as you shoved a couple pairs of boots into the suitcase. “I was.” Tom smiled a slight smile. “But I realized if I stayed here, all I would ever be is your girlfriend.”

“You make it sound like a prison sentence.” Tom mumbled.

“For me, it would be. I have dreams and goals of my own and no matter how hard I try, it would always be overshadowed by you. Or worse, pitied or given special treatment because of you.” You shoved the last of your clothes and pushed the lid down and struggled to zip the case closed.

Tom fidgeted with his hands in his lap.

“We could have talked about all this before you booked your flight. We can still talk about it, delay your flight.” His voice grew shrill. “We can make this work. Just don’t leave. Not like this.”

His hand slid over to grab yours. You sat down beside him, giving his hand a brief squeeze before extracting your fingers from his grip.

“My lectures start tomorrow.” A horn beeped. “That’s my taxi.”

Tom bolted to standing. “You can’t possibly be leaving now! Let me drive you to the airport. Something!”

You stood too. You rose on your toes. Your hands rubbed across the stubble on his chin and cheeks. Tom’s eyes squeezed closed at your touch and tears streamed down to your fingertips. You pressed your lips to his and sighed. Tom gripped your sweater like his life depended on it. The sound of the taxi honking again interrupted your embrace.

You squeezed his shoulders hard. “I need to go. I will call you when I land.”

Tom nodded. He grabbed your suitcase and carried it to the door. You reached for it, but he held on.

“Please reconsider. I love you.” Tom pleaded.

“I love you too. But I love me more.” You kissed his cheek. “I’ll call from Philly. Take care of yourself.”

Tom bit his lip in hopes to stifle his anguish. He released his grip on the handle as he nodded at you. You kissed his cheek and stepped out the door. He stood at the threshold until you waved from the backseat of the cab.

Tom gave a tight smile and a small wave until you disappeared into view. Once the door clicked behind him, Tom crumpled to the floor, his legs ceasing to function. Bobby trotted over to check on him, and Tom burrowed his head into Bobby’s soft fur.

He sat there for 30 minutes until his phone rang. He sent it to voicemail. It rang again. This time he turned the phone off and chucked across the foyer. He dragged himself to the couch where he lay until there was a knock at the door.

He jumped to his feet and ran to the door, hoping you had changed your mind.

“I’m so glad you—” he exclaimed as he flung the door open.

“Glad to see you too, mate. Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Luke responded as a disheveled Tom met him at the door. “What the hell happened!?”

Tom’s face fell. “She’s gone.” he croaked out as he fell against Luke.

Luke stood bewildered as he walked Tom back into his house and hoped to unravel just what had Tom in such a state.

-

Three Weeks Later

It was Tom’s first time leaving the house since you left. Luke made sure he had groceries and cleared his calendar of what few things were on it.

Tom had been planning a surprise vacation with you. Which Luke had to cancel. And now Tom sat in a corner booth of his favorite restaurant waiting for Benedict to arrive.

“Shall I get you something to drink?” The waiter asked as Tom ignored the menu.

“A pint. And keep them coming.” he grumbled, not bothering to take off his sunglasses.

“Are you sure that’s a wise decision giving your current emotional state?” Ben’s voice questioned as the waiter walked away.

“Why the fuck not? I am in mourning.”

“It’s been three weeks, Tom. You can not continue on like this. Your liver will never make it.”

“Want to bet?”

“Your GP would agree with me. Nice shirt, by the way. You’ve got a real brooding lumberjack vibe going on.”

Tom glanced down at the red plaid and tears welled in his eyes.

“That’s what she said the night we met.” Tom’s voice cracked.

Ben’s face softened at the wreck of Tom. “I didn’t mean to hit a nerve. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know. I never wear the shirt any more. But I haven’t been doing laundry as much.”

“Or showering either.” Benedict takes an exaggerated sniff.

“Not helping, mate.” Tom shot daggers across the table.

“How can I help? I assume that is why I am here. Since you are not taking any calls.”

“I broke my phone chucking it across the room. Haven’t bothered to replace it.”

Ben pressed his hands flat. “You might want to get on that. Perhaps she is trying to call you. I was under the impression you were smarter than this.” He shook his head at Tom.

Tom perked up. “I hadn’t thought about that. Do you think she has reached out?”

“Well, you won’t know until you talk to her.” Tom’s eyes sparkled and sat up straighter. “There’s the Tom Hiddleston I know.” Ben smiled.

“Thank you, Ben. You are a loyal friend.”

“I’m your best friend. And I only want you to be happy. And as payment for my expert relationship advice, you are paying for lunch.”

“With pleasure.” Tom smiled for the first time in weeks.

-

Tom’s mood was short lived. He stopped by the store and replaced his phone. He listened to your voicemail from that day you left. And then nothing. Not a text, not a call. Radio silence.

“Hello, darling. It’s Tom. Sorry I haven’t called sooner. A bit of an accident with my phone. I would very much like to talk to you. To hear your voice. Call me, please. Any time, day or night.”

He sighed as he left the message and stared at the phone for the rest of the night. It didn’t ring.

-

Two Months Later

It was three months since you moved to Philadelphia and began your adjunct position at Penn. You only gained some semblance of normal in the past few days.

“And that is it for today.” You addressed the class. “See you on Thursday.”

The auditorium emptied quickly as students rushed to either their next lecture or something else to do. With a huff, you heaved your bag onto your shoulder and headed to your office on campus.

“Hello?” you answered your phone.

“Any word?” Jess’s voice asked on the other end.

“I told you. He doesn’t have this new number, and I lost his when my phone took a swim in the toilet.”

“Then email him.”

“If he wanted to talk, he would have called those first few days. He has moved on.”

“You are a stubborn ass. You just don’t want to reach out first and have to admit you made a mistake. That you still love him and still want him.”

“That’s not true. He’s busy. He has projects. He probably isn’t even in London right now.” you lied to yourself. You hated when Jess was right.

“Bullshit. You’re scared. Fine, don’t do anything and throw away the best thing that ever happened in your life.”

“Hey! This job is the best thing that happened to me. It moved me closer to you.”

“I would give up our weekly lunches to see you happy. Are you happy?”

You sat down silent at your desk. She was happy, she thought, right? That was the whole point of this. The move was meant to help her reach her goals. Everything felt hollow instead of empowering.

“Yeah, yeah.” you lied to Jess. “Of course, I’m happy. That was the whole point.”

“Still calling bullshit. Remember Jason is coming to pick you up for lunch tomorrow because I have that client meeting.”

“Thank you for reminding me. Bye Jess.”

“Talk to Tom.” she blurted out before you ended the call.

You laid your head on your desk and sighed.

-

The next morning dragged on. You loved teaching communication, but today your heart was somewhere else. Jess’s words weighed you down like an anchor.

“And what percentage of communication is communicated nonverbally?” you asked the class.

You scanned the room to find someone to call on. Out of the corner of your eye, you spied a red plaid shirt. Just like the one Tom wore at Frankford Hall years ago.

“Ah…” you lost your train of thought. You glanced again but couldn’t find the shirt again. “… yes?” you pointed at someone in the third row.

You spent the rest of the lecture searching the room for the owner of the shirt, but he had disappeared. You convinced yourself you imagined the entire thing.

“Let’s end class early. Enjoy it because it won’t happen again.” you announced.

The class cheered as they packed up for the day. You waited until the hall was empty just to double check for Tom.

“You are losing it.” you mumbled to yourself.

-

Tom convinced Luke he was ready to work again. Starting with some radio appearances in New York. Luke wasn’t convinced Tom didn’t have a hidden agenda.

“Are you sure you aren’t planning on taking a day trip to Philly to find her?”

Tom scoffed. “It’s over, Luke.”

Luke glanced at Tom askance but complied with the request. “Fine, but I don’t want to see a single story unrelated to these interviews in the papers.”

“Cross my heart.” Tom made an exaggerated “x” on his chest.

“I’ve heard that before.” Luke groused as he made the plans.

When Tom received his itinerary, he was grateful Luke left an entire day empty.

“You know me too well, mate.” Tom commented as he saw the handwritten note at the bottom:

Here is a good car rental company. It is just under two hours to Philly. Be safe and tell her you love her.

- Luke

Tom wasted no time to call the car company.

When he arrived on campus, it didn’t take him long to find your office. It was locked.

“Excuse me, do you know when the professor will return?” he asked a passing student.

“She is lecturing in Ames Hall. It's just down the corridor.”

“Thank you.” Tom took off.

He snuck into the back to the crowded lecture hall and listened in for a bit. He swore you glimpsed him. His stomach growled as he skipped breakfast to get on the road and he ducked out of the hall to get a quick snack.

As he headed back, he spied you outside your office. His heart leaped into his throat. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes in joy.

He stepped forward but stopped as a man approached you, and you threw your arms around him.

“Fuck!” Tom cursed as the two of you walked away. He collapsed on a nearby bench, uncertain where to go from here.

-

It was later in the day when Jason dropped off back at campus.

“Call him.” both Jason and Jess pleaded.

“Leave it be, you two. We have both moved on.”

“Is that why you swear you saw him in class today? Or that you haven’t even thought about dating since you got here?” Jess added.

“Goodbye you two.” You slammed the door and headed to pick up your things before heading home.

You noticed someone slumped over on a nearby bench. You stepped closer and noticed the red plaid shirt from earlier.

“Are you okay?” you inquired. “Tom?!”

Tom unfolded himself from the bench.

“Tom, it’s you! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in London?” Tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“I needed to see you. To talk to you. To explain why I didn’t call.”

You crossed your arms. “I’m listening.”

“I was so upset, I threw my phone and broke it. I left you a message but didn’t hear from you. I figured you might have moved on, but I was willing to take a chance. But I see I was right.”

“How long have you been sitting there? Are you talking about Jason?” You hooked your thumb behind you.

Tom sighed heavily. “So that’s his name.” He took your hands and held them tight. “I should have fought harder. I should have listened more. I am so sorry that you ever felt you couldn’t pursue your dreams with me by your side.” His thumbs ran across your knuckles.

You spied the tears falling down his cheeks. You opened your mouth to speak, but Tom cut you off.

“I want you to be happy. Whether that is with me or not. But above all, I want you to be happy. And if that means I never see you again, then so be it. But know I love you. I will always love you.”

“Tom—”

“Have a wonderful life.” Tom leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheeks. “Give me a call if you are ever in London.”

Tom turned on his heel and walked away.

“WAIT!!!” you screamed, and he stopped and turned to face you. You ran to meet him. “Did you mean it?”

“Every word. I have never lied to you.”

“Jason…” Tom turned his head away at the name. You grabbed his chin to have him face you. “… is Jess’s long-term boyfriend. He picked me up to meet her for lunch.”

Tom’s eyes widened as the words sunk in. “So…”

Your lips curled into a smile and your hands snaked up his torso, gripping the front of his shirt. “Nice shirt, Paul.”

Tom smiled back. “The name’s Tom.”

“Well, Tom. I think we should carry on this conversation in my office.” You tugged him along. “I think your shirt would look amazing on my floor.”

Tom smiled as you shut the door. “I only want to make you happy.”

[absolutelycovidpositive]

Day 13-14-15

Day 13 (Dry Cough, Diarrhea, Dulled Sense of Smell)

My mom isn’t giving me a straight answer in how she’s feeling, but she maintains that she’s miserable. The lack of a concrete “this is how I feel” bothers me, I go upstairs and watch Destiny streamers and level my Warlock after going hard on my Hunter the previous day. It felt nice to have something to work towards. It’s felt nice to listen to music and not feel overly stimulated by all of the different sounds and visuals. I get mad at the Mercy Rule again, something I couldn’t do a week ago. I exclaim “WHAT?” When something confusing happens. I’m starting to feel okay.

I join a voice chat with friends and family. I’m mostly quiet, but it’s nice to hear everyone make banter that’s similar to the pre-COVID days. We go on for a few hours until everyone is good and ready for bed. I stay up for a few hours more, feeling existential and scared. I write a story about a message I’m too scared to send to a friend. About how lucky we are to be able to still be friends, even after we graduated college, something that ends in depressingly dead friendships. 

I use the restroom, but I also hear my mom. She sounds like she’s groaning in pain. I clean up and go downstairs. She can’t breath. I go down to the basement and ask my sister to call emergency services, mom needs to go to the hospital again. I don’t think I have the words to express how it felt watching her be pulled out of the house on a stretcher. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more heartbreaking. 

Day 14 (Dry Cough, Dulled Sense of Smell)

I’m still up from the previous night, I can’t seem to sleep. Seeing your mom, someone who’s been your rock for so long on a stretcher will keep you up at night, I guess. My sister is emotionally drained, my brother’s worried, my sister-in-law is worried, I’m worried. My sister-in-law finds out she’s going to a hospital out of town, because the city near us is full. We’re finally able to talk to mom, her nurse informs us of the plasma treatment she’ll be getting, the antibiotic they put her on. She felt better than she did last night, but is glad she’s in the hospital. 

I take a nap, waking up to an unusual Thanksgiving dinner. Bratwurst and Fries, you can tell I haven’t had anything salty in the last couple of weeks because holy fuck did my lips pucker at the fries. We got onto Minecraft. We played deep into the night, a cathartic experience after such an emotionally draining day. Finally, we got off and went to bed. 

Day 15 (Dry Cough, Dulled Sense of Smell)

We’re having steak and potatoes, on Day 16 we’re going to have a very traditional Thanksgiving meal since we missed that day. I don’t need anything close to my nose to smell it anymore, but now I have a “fried” smell stuck in my sinuses, I’m not sure how to explain it, but it smells like stale fries, like fries that have been cooking for ages. 

We don’t get on Minecraft, but we jump in voice chat, enjoying each others company as they help friends go through dungeons in an MMO that isn’t Destiny. I play Sims 4 and wreak havoc on a married couple I made. It was incredibly fun to flirt with the newlyweds and then watch them slap each other after catching themselves be kinda unfaithful to each other.

Mom is doing well, she’s on a little more oxygen but her spirits are up and she’s having better days. I’m happy and relieved hearing that, it also doesn’t make me feel so alone, it makes the gap between all of us here at the house feel less gaping. 

[tennanth]

Homecoming | Peter Parker x Reader

Paring: Peter Parker x f! reader

Warning(s): fluff

Summary: Reader is enlisted in the navy, and is surprising everyone at the compound for Christmas.

A/N: Hi! Hello! This is my first post on here, so go easy on me! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3.7k

"Daddy! Daddy! Look! It's Uncle Steve!" Peter looked up from his phone, seeing his little girl come running up to him.

He took the comic out of her hands, smiling at the bubbly girl. "Yeah, it is." Peter looked at Aubrey with a playful stern look. "Did you find this in mine and Mommy's closet?" The six year old held a bashful look as she sheepishly smiled.

"Yeah.." Peter just smiled. He stood up, picking Aubrey up in his arms. He placed a kiss to her blonde hair that was pulled back neatly into a ponytail by Natasha.

Aubrey took the comic from her father's hands, pointing at the words above the super soldier as she tried to read the printed letters. "Cap...ca...captain?" She looked up at her father for approval.

Peter nodded his head, giving her an encouraging smile. "That's right, keep going, princess." Her brown orbs looked back down to the paper, continuing in her attempt to read.

"A...amew..ica?" Peter smiled. She still had a little trouble pronouncing her R's. Just then, none other than the Captain himself walked in.

"Captain Amewica!" The little girl spoke, proud of herself for learning the words. "Captain America? I'm right here!" Steve spoke, earning a bright smile and wide eyes from the girl in Peter's arms.

Peter let Aubrey down, allowing her to run up to her uncle and receive a strong hug. Bucky walked in a second later, Peter's second child holding his metal hand. Beckett waved at his father, giving him the best smile he could with a thumb in his mouth.

The little boy walked over to his father, who picked him up and held him in his arms. "C'mon, buddy. You gotta stop sucking on that." Peter spoke softly to the small boy, gently pulling the thumb out of his mouth.

"Did you have fun with Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky?" Beckett nodded, a bright smile lightening his face. "What'd you do?"

"Uhm, we, we went to the pizza place, an- and then we went to the park! And we played on the swings and the jungle gym and Uncle Steve helped me climb the monkey bars!" The six year old let out a small laugh, causing Peter to grow a smile of his own.

"Well, why don't you go play with your sister, hmm? Maybe we'll get to call Mommy later and talk to her." The boy's face brightened as his father put him back on the ground. The twins ran back to their bedroom to play with their toys (and most likely convince Uncle Thor to play superhero).

Peter walked over to Steve and Bucky, holding the old comic in his hands.

"She get into 'em?" Peter nodded, looking at the two men. "Yeah. Can't blame her. I find myself looking at these from time to time, well, when I have the time." He let out a small chuckle.

Natasha walked into the room, Wanda trailing behind her. "Where'd she go?" Peter pointed to the children's room. "We were making cupcakes she was gonna help us decorate." Natasha let out a laugh as she trucked up to their room. Wanda returned to the kitchen to watch over the soon-to-be-decorated cupcakes.

Meanwhile, you were packing your suitcase. It was Christmas Eve, and you had told everyone at the compound you were going on another deployment.

You were actually packing to head back to New York to surprise everyone for Christmas. You had told Peter you were about to go on another deployment, just incase they called while you were packing and questioned it.

"Hey," You looked to the doorway, seeing Samantha leaning against the doorframe. You gave her a smile before folding the t-shirt you were holding. "You tell Tony yet?" You shook your head.

Your plan was to tell Tony and only Tony that you were coming home for Christmas to surprise everyone. You hadn't told him yet, since you know he isn't one for keeping secrets.

"Don't you think you should? I mean, your flight leaves at 10:30 tonight." You and Samantha shared a laugh before heading to the kitchen where she had prepared lunch.

"I'll tell him, when my flight lands." Samantha snorted. You picked up your own plate of bratwurst and chips and sat down at the table, Samantha close in tow.

"I'm so excited to see them again." You looked up at your roommate, taking a bite of the bratwurst after you spoke.

You had been stationed in Norfolk, Virginia for the past year, going on one very long deployment with few calls while you were out at sea. You had called Peter and the twins almost every night you'd been in the states, just in case you had to leave again for another six months.

You were ecstatic at just the thought of being able to hug all three of them. To be able to hold your children in your arms, hug them and kiss them and tell them you loved them dearly. To hug and kiss and cuddle your husband. You loved serving your country, but there was more than one downside to being away from them.

You finished up your lunch, walking back to your bedroom to finish packing. As you folded and placed a pair of jeans in your suitcase, your phone rang, showing a FaceTime call from your loving husband.

You smiled, picking up the small device and pressing accept call.

"Hi Mommy!" Your smile widened as three faces covered your screen. "Hi babies!"

Your children were delighted to see you and hear your voice, even if you had talked to them just last night.

"How are you two?" You spoke in your enthusiastic mother voice. The children both replied with 'good!', continuing on to share their day.

You learned that Aubrey had baked and decorated cupcakes with Aunt Nat and Aunt Wanda, and Beck had spent the day playing in the snow with Uncle Steve and Uncle Bucky.

"I put little snowmen and snowflakes on the cupcakes! And I made one for you too!" Your heart warmed at Aubrey's words. Your little girl ran off screen to fetch said cupcake, coming back with a chocolate cupcake in her hands.

"That's you! You're on the boat!" You smiled, thanking her and telling her how beautiful it looks.

Sooner rather than later, it became 7:30, a time you preferred your children to be going to bed. Peter, being the wonderful dad he is, told them to get ready for bed and maybe they'll get a story before bed.

The two rushed off camera to put on their pajamas and brush their teeth, leaving you and your husband to talk for a few.

"Yeah, Aubrey got into your old comic books again." Peter spoke, resulting in small laughter from the two of you. You stared at your husband's face on the screen, thinking about how you'll see him in less than 24 hours.

"I really miss you, babe. All of us here do." You smiled softly. "I know, and I miss you guys. But I'll be home before you know it, don't you worry." Peter chuckled, taking a sip of his soda from his dinner.

You checked the time on your watch, seeing it was 7:45. "Well, you should head in there so they don't get impatient." You spoke, referring to the twins. Peter nodded. "Yeah."

"Hey," Peter looked at you. "I love you, so so much. All three of you." Peter smiled, his brown eyes brightening in the dim light of yours and his bedroom. "I love you too."

You soon ended the call, returning to your packing. Silent tears fell from your eyes at the thought of finally, after almost a year and a half, you'd be able to see your family again.

~~~~~

Soon enough, 9:30 rolled around, the time for Samantha and her husband, Oliver, to drive you to the airport.

Their SUV rolled up to the terminal door, the three of you exiting the vehicle.

You pulled your suitcase and carry on out of the trunk, placing the straps of your book bag on your shoulders. Samantha and Oliver took turns giving you a hug.

"Merry Christmas," Samantha spoke in your ear, hugging you tightly. As you pulled away, you gave her a warm smile, one that said 'thank you for everything.'

"Now, go surprise your family!" You let out a laugh, adjusting your blue camouflage hat. You grabbed a hold of your suitcase handle, rolling it behind you as you walked into the airport.

Soon enough, you finally sat down in your seat on the plane, letting out a breath as you took off your hat, placing it in your lap.

"Going home for Christmas?" You looked to your right, seeing an old man sitting beside you. You gave him a kind smile, nodding. "Yeah, surprising my family." You fiddled with the brim of your hat.

"Well, thank you for your service, ma'am." You smiled even more, getting comfortable in your seat. The plane soon took off, flying into the dark abyss towards New York.

~~~~~

"Ma'am, ma'am," Your head shot up, looking around as your eyes adjusted to the light.

You looked up, seeing a flight attendant beside you. "The plane has landed." You gave her a smile before placing your hat on top of your head, removing your carry on from the over-head compartment and removing yourself from the aircraft.

Your boots padded on the floor of the terminal, weaving your way through the crowds coming and going. Soon enough, you reached the baggage claim, searching for your dark brown suitcase.

A bright red tag caught your eyes as it moved past. You picked it up, seeing the white Avengers logo on the front, with your information on the back of the tag.

You walked to the nearest Starbucks, ordering a tall apple cider and finding a place to sit. You pulled out your phone, preparing to call Tony to come pick you up.

While you searched for his contact, a different face popped up on your screen. An audio call was coming in from Peter.

"Hello?" You pressed the phone to your ear, hoping Peter couldn't hear the crowd in the background.

"M-Mommy?" Aubrey's quiet voice filled your ears, making your heart break at how sad she sounded. "Yes baby? Is everything okay?"

"N-no.." Your face softened. "What's wrong, Aubey?"

"Someone woke up crying about how Mommy isn't gonna be home for Christmas." Somehow, someway, your heart broke even more. "Aww, sweetheart,"

The next twenty minutes consisted of consoling your little girl, eventually resulting in her falling asleep while talking about school. "Okay, she's out. I'm gonna head to bed before I fall asleep talking to you." You let out a laugh at your husband.

"Okay, love you. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, baby."

You ended the call, silently wishing they knew you were coming home. But that's what a surprise is all about, right? Not knowing?

You finally called Tony, pressing the phone up to your ear. As the phone rang, you checked your watch, seeing it was 15 to midnight.

"Boss, you have an incoming call." Friday woke up the billionaire, alerting him of your call.

Tony picked up his phone, seeing your face cover the screen. "Hello?" He spoke, slight annoyance in his voice.

"Hey, Tony, I need you to pick me up." Tony's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "What?"

"Yeah, I'm at JFK. Come pick me up. Don't tell anyone though, it's a surprise." Tony could hear your smile through the phone, and you didn't have enough time to hear his, since you ended the call before he could respond.

Tony jumped out of bed, dressing himself in jeans and an old band t-shirt. "Friday, find the quickest route to JFK." And with that, Tony speed walked out the door the quietest he could, successfully not waking anyone up.

You stood outside the terminal doors, searching for Tony's orange Audi R8. You checked your watch again, seeing it was now almost 12:30.

Soon enough, the car pulled up next to you, a familiar face exiting the car. You smiled as you let go of your suitcase, walking towards Tony with open arms.

Tony hugged you tightly. "Welcome home, kid."

The entire way back consisted of non-stop joking and catching up, the way a pair of friends would after being separated for almost a year and a half.

"So, nobody else knows?" Tony spoke, glancing at you. You shook your head.

"Nope. No one. Not even Peter knows." You rubbed your hands together, creating some heat with your palms. Snow fell lightly outside the car, covering the snow that already covered the grass.

"They'll be really happy to see you. I know the twins have been upset the past couple days, but Peter," Tony paused.

"This has been the longest you've been without seeing each other, right?" You nodded. "Yeah."

Tony let out a sigh. "It shows. Peter has been a little sad this entire time you've been gone, but once Thanksgiving rolled around, it finally started taking a toll on him." You looked down in your lap, fidgeting your thumbs.

"He'll be the happiest to see you, I hope you know that." You smiled softly. "Yeah," You looked outside once more. "I know."

~~~~~

The compound soon came into view, a rush of excitement and happiness coursing through your veins as Tony parked the car in front.

Tony reached for your suitcase before you stopped him. "Tony, please. I'm in the navy, I can carry my own things." Tony let out a chuckle, raising his hands in surrender and took a step back.

You picked up your bag, wrapping the straps around your shoulders. You then pulled out your suitcase, pulling the handle up all the way.

You looked up at the building. No lights were on inside, signaling no one was awake. Which, was a good thing. You weren't surprising just Peter and the twins, you were surprising everyone.

You and Tony started to walk towards the door. You glanced to your left at all the parked cars, seeing the truck you shared with Peter. You smiled, let out a breath into the cold air, and walked inside.

The warmth of the compound hugged your body, warming up your cold figure. The dog tags on your neck chilled your chest, still cold from being outside.

You wiped your boots on the mat, making sure to not leave a trail of snow in the building for two reasons. One, so Tony wouldn't kill you, and two, in case anyone woke up for a glass of water and came downstairs, just to be met with a trail of boot-shaped snow-prints.

In the living room, the Christmas tree lit up the small corner of the room it was in. There were presents under the tree, most of them marked To Aubrey, From Santa, or To Beckett, From Santa.

You walked over to the tree, quietly setting down your book bag and opening it up, taking out three more presents. You set the gifts front and center, to make sure everyone saw them.

You had gotten the twins each a stuffed bear, Aubrey's wearing a navy uniform similar to the one you were wearing, and Beck's wearing a t-shirt saying 'U.S. Navy' with an anchor in the middle. You placed the bears next to their respective presents.

Inside of the boxes for each of the twins was something you had gotten when you were little, when your own father was deployed.

You had ordered the With You All The Way deployment kits about a week ago, keeping it a secret from Peter to make sure of their surprise. Inside the boxes was a teddy bear with pilot gear, dog tags, an activity book, postcards, and a dvd for them to watch. The kit helped you when you were little, so you thought it might help your own kids.

But for Peter's gift? Inside his own box was a mug that had 'Proud Navy Husband' printed on one side, a dog tag set that had 'Our Love Is Deployment Strong' engraved, and a gray t-shirt that read 'I am a proud Navy Husband,' with a sailor silhouette next to it.

You were proud of yourself for picking out these presents. You were excited to watch them open the gifts from a far, and then walk around the corner and see everyone's faces when they saw you were home for Christmas.

You stood up, picking your bag up and slinging one strap on your shoulder. You started to walk out of the room, one certain photo catching your eyes.

You picked up the frame, smiling at the memory. It was the four of you in Virginia, visiting the beach the summer before you were deployed for the first time.

You quietly set the frame down and carefully made your way up the stairs and to the guest bedroom, where you would be sleeping for the night.

You set your bag and suitcase down by the door, sitting on the bed and taking your boots and hat off. You let out a tired sigh.

Turning on the screen, your phone read 1:15am, December 25th, 2034. You looked at your wallpaper, seeing the day you left for deployment, almost a year and a half ago. You hugged the twins tightly, tears had been streaming down all three of your faces, including Peter, who took the picture.

You quickly changed out of your camouflage, putting on a pair of gray sweats and a navy blue t-shirt, with Navy written on the front in gold letters.

You got underneath the covers, making yourself comfortable for the night.

~~~~~

"Daddy! Daddy! Wake up! It's Christmas!" Peter was woken up the next morning by two little kids jumping on his bed. Peter let out a chuckle, now wide awake at his children's antics.

Aubrey jumped on her father's legs while Beck sat next to them, a large smile on his face. The (h/c) girl looked to her brother.

"Beck! Let's go see if Santa came!" The brunette nodded quickly, following his sister out of their parent's room. Peter let out a sigh as he sat up. "Don't touch any of the presents!"

Peter stood up and stretched, looking at the picture of the two of you on the nightstand. He smiled sadly, twirling his ring around his finger. He wished you were there.

He walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs to see everyone walking in, yawning, stretching, or, like Thor and the twins, excitedly sitting down in front of the tree, patiently waiting to open presents. Peter let out a chuckle, walking into the kitchen where freshly brewed coffee sat.

He took a cup of the coffee, walking back into the living room to join the others. Just as the twins started to reach for their stockings, Tony stopped them. "Wait! I have to get something!" He then ran out of the room, making his way to wake you up.

A knock on your door sounded. You had already been awake for the past half hour, dressed and ready to go for today. You could barely wait anymore to see everyone. You had put on your uniform from last night, your hair in a tight bun as the blue camo hat sat on top, your black boots laced tightly.

"Yes?" You spoke, opening the door a smidge to see Tony. "Twins are about to open presents, thought I'd let you know." Tony pointed towards the living room.

You nodded, a wide smile making it's appearance on your face. You quietly followed Tony out the door, taking a seat at the island in the kitchen, a spot where you could see everyone, but they couldn't see you. Mostly because they were focused on everything else going on around them.

Finally, it came down to the last three presents; the ones from you. "Look Daddy! He's wearing Mommy's clothes!" Aubrey showed the bear to her father. Peter held a bright smile, one you could stare at for hours on end. "Yeah, he is."

The twins took turns opening their gifts from you, Aubrey going first, and then Beckett. They both absolutely loved the teddy bears, the ones inside the box and the ones directly from you. "I'm gonna name him Jet," Beck spoke, holding the bear from WYATW.

Peter picked up his gift, opening and reading the note on top out loud. "'Peter, open this gift after the twins have opened theirs.' Well, they did. So I'm gonna open this now." A laugh erupted from the entire room, including a quiet one from you.

Peter opened the box, unwrapping the mug first. He smiled as he read the print out loud. And his smile only widened as he opened the other two gifts. He immediately put the dog tags around his neck.

Finally, Peter opened the card you had stuck at the bottom of the box, reading the print out loud. "'Peter, Merry Christmas! I hope you and the twins love your gifts, I picked them out from the Navy Exchange here in Virginia haha. I miss all three of you, and I know how much you wanted me to be home for Christmas. So please, if you would, shout 'Underoos' for me. I love you! I miss you! (y/n).'"

Peter held a questionable face as he folded the card up, looking up around the room. "Um, okay. Underoos!" There's your queue.

You walked out of the kitchen, into the sight of everyone else. Peter immediately spotted you, his mouth hanging open as tears filled his eyes. He stood up, making his way over to you.

Peter's strong arms wrapped around your body, engulfing you in a tight hug. Tears streamed down both of your faces as you reluctantly pulled away, sharing a sweet kiss that had been waited for for too long. "Mommy!"

Two pairs of arms wrapped around your legs. Your smile widened as you kneeled down, engulfing both of your babies in your arms. "I've missed you two, so so much," You spoke, tears streaming down your face as you hugged them tightly.

As you pulled away, Aubrey accidentally knocked your hat off, causing the two of you to laugh. "Oopsie, sorry Mommy," You kissed her cheek.

"It's okay, baby. I don't need to wear it right now." You stood up, placing your hat on the table. The rest of that day(and the following week) was filled with lots of love, laughter, and catching up.

And you couldn't be happier.

[rumorsumac]

turning 30 this year

i was thinking i should find some commemorative way to acknowledge the passing of my 20s, which i will probably still do, but this weekend my body decided to celebrate in its own way. 

i woke up with sharp pain in my left lung, couldn't move properly and couldn't take deep breaths (or hiccup or yawn or anything), and my girlfriend and I decided i should go to urgent care. i dont know what i expected, but the result was a fun time: the doctor took xrays and said ah! you're so constipated that your shit wall is pushing your spleen up against your lung, which is why it hurts so bad when you breathe.  that was three days ago.

the measures i have taken to rid myself of this have been fairly intense. i started with only what the doctor said, which was to take some meta mucil and eat a lot of fiber. easy peasy. i mean it did nothing to assuage my respiration issues, but i am content to listen to a doctor's advice. that was saturday morning. that evening i made a vegetable stir fry (pretty spicy!) and ate almost one bowl. the pain worsened to a point of immobility so i stood outside and took small breaths for a half hour until it dissipated. i recalled the doctor asking me if eating exacerbated things. i realized the bulky vegetables must have made everything even more cramped in there. since then i haven't eaten a full meal. there was no motion of relief that evening, and i slept fitfully but on my back, rising to try the bathroom every three or four hours (to no avail). sunday morning, i took more MM, and complained fearfully to my girlfriend (olivia) that the pain hadn't changed and my body hadn't expelled anything. i was avoiding googling anything on the instinct that if i stopped paying attention to the problem, it would get bored and go away. olivia, bless her, googled all day about alternatives and supplementary concoctions that i could use. she convinced me after two or three suggestions to try a stimulant. on the way home from a very uncomfortable DnD session (annoyingly, all intelligence collection, no battles or spell casting at all), we stopped that the fred meyer and picked up said stimulant. i carried it home, hopeful. i even sang in the car (as well as i could without taking full breaths). i took it as soon as i got home, 5:55pm. I waited. At 8pm, I showered. I took my time, carefully asking my internal workings if there was anything they would like to say or do, but they stayed silent. i sat on the toilet anyway, and when they ignored me, i started to panic. I experienced what i will call a moment of mortality terror, where i realized that slowly as you get older you just begin to feel bad. And eventually you will start to feel bad every day, and there won't be a day when you wake up ready to go on a hike again. the fear was overwhelming and i started to cry, but it hurt so bad to take jerky crying breaths that i had to stop crying and settle with a physical panic dotted with occasional silent tears until olivia came in and gave me a hug. i was better then. still upset, but distracted from the reality of my mortal fate. time passed. I fell asleep. This morning I woke up angry, counting twelve hours since I took the stimulant, which claimed on the bottle to produce results within 6. I made coffee. I took MM. I took more stimulants.

I sit in bed typing this waiting for all of these to hit me. I don't even care anymore, if I must use this vacation day to weather a diarrhetic hell to escape the breathless cage of constipation i accept that. No one is home (for a few hours yet) and i'm exhausted and over it.

one last thing I want to mention -- last tuesday i was busy busy and did not make dinner until 9:30pm. Six bratwurst. I was starving and ate three of them in one go, probably took about 15 minutes at a maximum. I didn't have time to prepare lunch for the next workday, so I threw the other three brats in a container and went immediately to sleep. i ate all three of them before noon the next day. this is how you become so constipated that you can't breath.

tl:dr do not eat 6 bratwurst in a row and expect your 30 year old body to be chill with that 

[laurenetuttle]

Europe Christmas Market Trip Day 5- Nuremberg

Today was our first full day on the river cruise! Unfortunately, we didn’t get quite as much time in the port as we had hoped. We started out the day with a lovely breakfast and then we were ready to go for the included city tour at 8:30 am! They had buses pick everyone up and we did a driving tour around Nuremberg. We drove by some of the old Nazi areas, including the old Nazi rallying grounds. They also drove us by the court houses where they had the Nuremberg Trials after WWII to try all of the Nazi war criminals. It was pretty interesting. Unfortunately, we didn’t get to really stop at any of the locations or get out to take pictures. It was also raining quite a bit. And after having a full belly of breakfast, I may have dozed on the bus..... We opted to skip the walking tour of the castle of Nuremberg to have more time in the Christmas market area. They had told us we needed to be back to the boat for launch at 12:30pm! So that was a bummer. I was definitely expecting a full day in Nuremberg. Oh well! So we didn’t really otherwise get to explore much of the city. But we did get to walk around all 180 stalls of the main Christmas market for about 2 hours! It was amazing! So much better than the markets in Prague, where a lot of the stalls had the same mass-produced items. The stalls in Nuremberg had a lot of local and handmade goods. It did rain on us a little bit, but it wasn’t too bad. We got hot apple cider to drink as we walked around. They serve it to you in a cute mug that you can return for three euros back, or you can keep them! We decided to keep the adorable mugs. We wondered through a bunch of the stalls. We tried the local gingerbread, which was delicious! It’s one of the things that they’re known for! We both bought a couple of ornaments each. So many cute choices! It was rather difficult! And we were able to take some cute pictures and soak up the atmosphere. Before leaving, we tried a bratwurst sandwich and it was delicious! We then went back to the bus that took us back to the boat. The boat had actually moved downstream while we were in town! So they took us to another location to find the boat. And sure enough, right when we boarded, they took off! We immediately went to lunch. We weren’t all that hungry since we had been eating all morning. So we had a lighter fare and watched the canal banks as we floated by. At 2pm was a safety drill. Then we kind of laid around for a while. We watched the boat go through several locks. We then went to a lecture where we learned about the canal we’re on. We won’t actually be on the Danube river until tomorrow! We then had a welcome toast and learned about the excursions for tomorrow. Oh, and we also had tea and cookies in the afternoon. During all of that, we were able to watch the sunset along the canal. It was so beautiful. We’ve been basically eating and drinking all day! After the talks, we then went to dinner! Where we ate and drank some more! I am SO FULL. We both tried some awesome Waldorf salad and risotto. We had an apricot dumpling for dessert, but I could only have 1 bite, because I am so stuffed! We will definitely not go hungry on this cruise!! We are now getting ready for bed. We will reach Regensberg in the morning. We will actually get a full day in the city tomorrow! Yay!!

[newxdiary]

June 2, 2022

--THE HUNGRY ARE INSANE—

Coffee and Rock and Roll Time: 4:22 p.m.

Ramones, BRAIN DRAIN Ramones, HALFWAY TO SANITY The Kinks, GIVE THE PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT The Beatles, SGT PEPPERS LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND

I went to bed soon after my shift and woke up after about three hours, at 10 am. Went down to Pet Sam and got Louie’s medicine. I was ready for an impossible struggle to get him to take his pill, but I stuck it in a smear of cottage cheese, and he ate it without much suspicion. He was even easier to dose with the amoxycillin. Hyperthyroidism. That’s what’s been wrong with him. I guess it could have been worse. According to the vet, his levels of thyroid activity are double of what should be the norm. I take that to mean his is a serious case.

We are broke and under the threat of eviction. I have to make money without spending any. For breakfast, I’m going to have a cheese burger, bratwurst, and some cottage cheese. It’s all stuff that’s already in the refrigerator. I applied for SNAP (food stamps). I did this once, thirty two years ago. I have to. I have to free up all my cash so it can be applied to the rent crisis.

I started early last night, and I worked through to 5:30 am. I did as well as I could on what was a conspicuously slow night. My new personal customers saved me. I’m fortunate, they’re all cool.

This personal crisis is driven by hunger. The diseased hunger of my cat.

[365day2021]

Day 133

Woke up at like 930 and got to work at 1020. Download was pretty average and then started the day on repair. Did a couple phones and helped put away some display adhesive cutters that came in. After break I was on iPhone sales weird enough. My first sale was an hour long cause this older woman and I guess her mom had SO MANY questions about all the phones. Like differences between everything and having to talk so much. She didn’t know her Apple ID password either which thankfully she easily reset and yeah it was just long. After that I did like a watch sale and 2 pickups and hung out on point until break. For lunch I ordered Jersey Mike’s Philly Cheese steak and picked it up. Ate in my car while watching some lud vids and then came back on the bar. Took like 3 or 4 until my break and then it was closing iPhone repair. It was ongoing the whole time with a bit of the break towards the end. I kept saying yes to repairs coming in so Allen came to help and the one he got was a XS max battery and speaker which he hates batteries lol and he broke the display opening the phone so he had to DOA a display too. Poor guy and I had to help him towards the end but yeah cause of that I just chilled for the rest of the time for the last 30 minutes after close. Left and then went home. Played some melee and then spilled a bottle of soju on my floor while getting my dinner ready so that was fun to clean up. But yeah for dinner I had bratwurst with rice and frozen veggies. After that I just played more melee while watching mang0. It’s 137 now and just left and now chillin’ in bed

[oshacompliantmagicalgirl]

A Devilishly Good Egg Salad Sandwich

I am so sorry. Don’t tell me you hate it because I honestly hate it more. This is the demon baby that only exists by the persistence of my friends. That being said... Here is the sequel to this. Enjoy.

  The year passed in a flurry of work, play, and sandwiches. Before Toothpick knew it, school had drawn to a close, and Toast was saying goodbye. They shared a final, sweet moment of carbs meeting wood, then they parted ways. Toast was off to different condiments, and Toothpick craved a more wholesome sandwich. Little did he know that he was biting off more than he could swallow.

  “Hi, my name is Hoagie.” A melodious voice called from down the hall of the new dorm. The air was filled with the excitement of a new school year beginning, but something electric happened when Toothpick heard that voice. When he turned, a delicious sight of fluffy dough and unblemished crust met Toothpick’s gaze, and his breath was stolen away.

  “Hello. Are you… my roommate?” Toothpick managed to get out, even though he could perfectly read the paper name on the door.

  “Yep! I look forward to living with you this year!”  Hoagie entered the room and chattered away. Toothpick could feel himself start to heat in a way that only Toast had been able to do to him before. He was fucked.

  The days and months passed easily. Toothpick was busy with work, school, and the overdue demise of his summer fling with a bratwurst. The latter left him feeling quite ready for a new relationship to skewer himself into, and that was when things started really heating up. Thoughts of grilled cheese filled Toothpick’s dreams, but Toast was no longer the face of pleasure Toothpick imagined. Those nights left Toothpick sweaty and especially woody, but luckily Hoagie was a heavy sleeper. And if Hoagie saw any woodchips the next morning on Toothpicks side of the room, it was never mentioned.

~~

  “Hey, we’re just going to chill here for a bit before going back to Celly’s.” Hoagie opened the door slowly then all the way once he confirmed that Toothpick was not poking his way into anyone. A tall, muscular stalk of celery followed him into the room, and Toothpick felt a familiar wave of heat flow over him once more.

“We don’t mind at all,” Toothpick’s boyfriend, Mayo, spoke up from his spot of Toothpick’s bed. They were watching the newest episode of “How to Get Away with Murder”, and definitely not making out in the quiet moments.

  Toothpick didn’t say anything, just watched the other couple slyly sit on Hoagie’s bed and open a laptop to watch Netflix. They all stayed like that for a while, just watching their own shows in silence. Then, as if they both had some predetermined plan, Mayo and Celery both started kissing on their respective boyfriends’ necks at the same time.

  Toothpick tired hard not to look at the other two in the room and focus just on Mayo, but it was difficult not to let his voyeurism take over. He hadn’t been this wooden since the last time he made a sandwich with Toast.

  “I have something to discuss with you…” Mayo started, his warm lips punctuating every word against Toothpick’s neck, “Celery is a friend of mine, and we’ve broached this idea to Hoagie but not to you. I want you to answer honestly, though. Do you want to make a sandwich with us?”

  Mayo leaned back far enough to let Toothpick have time to think. There was a tense silence from all parties in the room, but Toothpick didn’t even notice. He didn’t have to think for long.

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  Mayo stood and directed a willing Toothpick after him. The four met at the center of the room, and preparation started instantly. The room was awake with the smell of cooking and the heavy breathing from all parties. Mayo got spiced up first, and he and Celery started mixing themselves together in a display that both Hoagie and Toothpick were mesmerized by. Not long after, Mayo brought his head up, flushed sinfully all the way down his body.

  “This meal is missing something. We need a protein for this sandwich.”

  Toothpick smiled, kissing his boyfriend before replying.

  “I think you need we need some brotein. I have a friend who will be interested.”

  A quick phone call and 10 minutes later, the tall, handsome, freshly-showered Egg stood in their doorway. He was pulled inside quickly, and the mixing continued. Grunts and moans filled the air as yolk turned out to be just the missing ingredient.

  Finally, the mixing was complete, and climax was near. Hoagie wrapped himself around the concoction of ecstasy, and Toothpick could wait no longer. In a flurry of passion, he drove himself into the middle, and all participants groaned in unison.

  Later, the five members of the egg salad sandwich lay in a pile on the floor, too tired to clean up the crumbs from the floor. Toothpick, sandwiched between Mayo and Hoagie and laying on Egg’s sweaty chest, let out a relaxed sigh, completely melted into the others.

  He had to have this again. Sandwiches were too delicious for him to walk away from. Luckily, he didn’t think he would have a lot of trouble convincing the others to join in as well.

[sabraeal]

Obi and Shirayuki visit her hometown, and Obi learns that his Miss has had a little more experience than he thought (AKA - Gimme your Pavo story!)

As long as he lives, Obi will never be comfortable in Tanbarun.

His miss is all smiles when they walk into the market, greeting her old neighbors with the sort of warmth he’d imagine another might greet extended family – fond, but not familiar – and all he can think of is the dozen ways she could disappear in front of him, be spirited out of his reach before he ever knew she was gone.

Her hair is covered; a concession she made easily enough when they crossed the border. In Clarines travel is easier; after so many years as the second prince’s speculative bride, even the smallest villages know to keep their hands off the red-haired woman who rides through. Obi cannot help but wonder if it will be the same when they ride back – after all, word is sure to get out by then. There is no such thing as a secret in the palace that the king does not care about keeping.

And there is nothing about this that High Majesty would like to keep quiet. By now he must have Master neck deep and treading water in the treacherous seas of international matrimony.

It’s common here for women to veil their hair after marriage, and they look different enough to pass for husband and wife at first glance. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had overlooked the careful space he leaves between them. It’s an easy enough mistake to make, he supposes; they long ago ceased to ask for separate rooms at an inn, just a single bed and a cot, and more often than not of late his miss’s complaints of cold do not allow him even that –

“Right, Obi?” Miss asks, sending his thoughts into a jumbled heap.

He blinks slowly, his passive gaze falling to her determined one. “Hm?”

“Frau Kino is asking if we’ve eloped without her knowing,” she prompts expectantly. He finds the old woman eyeing him speculatively with a smile he’s not entirely sure he appreciates.

He presses a hand to his heart, offering her a polite bow. “I promise, ma’am, were Miss to agree to take this humble knight in lawful matrimony, you would be in the first row.”

Kino laughs at that, clapping her hands in glee, and his miss offers him a flat look.

“You’re only encouraging her, you know,” she murmurs, leaning back into him. Her spine burns a scorching line along his side.

He bends down just slightly, so that she can hear him whisper, “Come now, Miss, what’s the harm?”

“This is how I know you’ve never grown up in a village,” she tells him, and he’s ready to clap back with, and neither have you, but –

“Ah, Shirayuki,” one of the other women says, her voice pitched low. “I know you’re excited about the festival but –” her eyes dart back and forth, searching to see if anyone might be eavesdropping on their conversation – “Pavo is going to be there.”

Miss blinks, and for a single, bare moment, she grimaces. It slides into an easy smile not a second later, wide and bright. “That’s good to hear.”

The woman is stymied by Miss’s lack of reaction, and Miss takes the opportunity to turn away, drawn off by Frau Kino to come meet another neighbor she hasn’t seen in ages.

Obi hesitates, staring after his miss. Interesting.

Obi thought he’d have to wait until the festival to find out about this mysterious Pavo, but in the passing days, not a single neighbor does not draw Miss aside, voice dropped into a low whisper, and warn her about this Pavo and his impending presence. She gives no other reaction other than a smile and pink cheeks, sometimes even a furtive glance his way as if she wondered if he heard, but no signs of distress.

“Who is Pavo?” he asks, so innocent. “I heard you and Herr Eno talking about him yesterday. A friend of yours?”

Her cheeks flush a deep, splotchy red, as if she’d been slapped. “Ah, yes. He’s just – a boy I grew up with. Everyone thought we would be, ah, something, so…”

His eyes narrow in suspicion. He has not been with her so long to be fooled by such a weak response. “That’s it.”

Her gaze slips off of him. “Yes.” She gestures over to a food cart. “Oh, Obi! Didn’t you say you were hungry a while back? Let’s grab some some bratwurst –”

His stomach growls at the thought of sausage dressed with onion, and he follows her with a grin, but –

This Pavo is not forgotten.

Sometimes the only way to get answers is to go a more circuitous route.

“Frauline,” he purrs, earning a skeptical look from Kino as she sorts coinage at her till. “You are looking lovely today.”

“Hmm.” Her eyebrows raise in mild surprise. “You must need something.”

He presses a hand to his heart, wounded. “Frau Kino, would I ever –”

“I assume this must be about Shirayuki,” she says, “and you must have already tried to ask her.”

He closes his mouth, adjusts his tack. He forgets how perceptive old women can be. “Who is Pavo?”

Kino’s mouth pulls tight. “Ah, Pavo. He’s the innkeep’s boy. He cause quite a stir back after Shirayuki’s grandparents passed.”

Obi leans in. “Stir?”

“I don’t know the whole of it, of course. I don’t truck with gossip, you know.” She couldn’t bother to even make that sound halfway true. “But apparently he, ah, plucked her maidenly flower, if you catch my meaning.”

He blinks. Miss?

“Plucked?” he manages. After Master had been so concerned with propriety, so worried about protecting her virtue –

“Oh, it was given freely, as I heard it,” Kino assures him, patting him on the hand, as if she had not just tilted his earth on its axis.

“But after, well…” She lowers her voice, even though they’re the only two in the whole of the store. “He wouldn’t marry her. Didn’t even give her the time of day, mostly. She was busy with the apothecary but, well…”

Kino shrugs, but Obi hardly sees it with all the red tinting his vision. “It’s all said and done, of course, been nearly ten years now, but…rumor has it Pavo is bringing his new girl to the festival. Going to jump the fires, they say.”

His fist clenches. Oh, Pavo will be getting up close and personal with a fire, that’s for certain…

The bell jingles over the door, and Miss ducks her head in, smile wide. “Obi, have you –?” She blinks, seeing them bent so close together. Her eyes narrow in suspicion. “Just what are you two talking about?”

“Just telling Obi how much he looks like my husband,” Kino tells her, not batting an eye at the lie that tumbles from her lips.

Miss’s gaze flicks to his face before she turns back to Kino with puzzled gaze. “Bertram? Obi?”

Kino offers her a smile far too innocent for Obi’s liking and winks. “Oh, I didn’t mean in the face, dear.”

The problem, of course, is not that she has done anything – a woman’s body is her own, no matter what the Clarinese think, and it’s not as if Obi has been a paragon of chastity despite his current, years-long drought – but rather that he – he –

That he can’t stop thinking about it. Vividly.

It had been easier when he thought her untouched. He had assumed his more…suggestive jokes had gone over her head, that her blushes were a mixture of embarrassment and curiosity, but now, now –

Now he wonders if she had flushed for a different reason – if, like him, she had missed it, the bone-deep relaxation only that sort of touch could bring –

When he closes his eyes, he sees her in his bed, arching beneath his hands, both of them seeking release with hands and mouth and – and –

He groans. There are somethings that cannot be unknown, and this is it.

It will pass. It will.

It has to.

He’s not sure what he expects from Pavo, but it’s not…this.

Obi catches sight of him across the square; a lantern-jawed man with a mop of tousled blond curls and the sort of dark eyes that girls fall into and can’t find their way out of, like a quagmire. He’s got that casual strength that farm boys have; the sort of bulky tone that suggests he lifts sheep as easy as breathing. His skin’s the flushed sort of ruddy that speaks of a healthy life out of doors, and a smile broader and whiter than any innkeep’s son’s has a right to be. The only thing Obi has up on him is height.

And brains, clearly, because if Miss wanted him to marry her, he wouldn’t need think twice.

She hasn’t noticed him yet; instead she is leaning over a vendor’s cart, perusing scarves – she insists it’s time he had a new one, never mind that he has three and he cleans them regularly. Her arm is wrapped through his, tugging him along. It’s midsummer, and even in the evening it’s warm enough for him to bead with sweat, which is clearly the only reason his skin is dewy now, her bare skin slipping over his –

“Do you like this one?” she asks, pressing close. His agitation at Pavo’s continued existence is momentarily interrupted by the knowledge that his miss’s breasts are pressed against him, that her hips are slotted at a right angle to his, enough that he feels the heat rolling off her body –

“Yes,” he croaks, “I like that. The scarf, I mean.”

She steps back from him, smile oddly sly. “Obi?” she asks, so innocent. “I feel strange buying you a gift in front of you. Do you think you could get us some cider?”

His gaze is riveted to where she is stroking the soft velvet, watching her slender finger draw furrows in the grain, and all he can think of is how he would like her to do the same to his hair, his skin –

“Yes,” he tells her stiffly. “What ever Miss desires.”

He tries to forget the intrigued sound of her hum as he walks away.

Obi shakes himself. There is no Master to consider, but that does not mean – she does not want him. If she draws close to him, it’s for comfort, not for – not for desire. Her and Master may have parted, but that does not change anything between them.

“Ah,” he hears as someone bumps into him at the tap. When he turns, he looks down into cowlike eyes, crinkled in humor. Pavo. Just what he needs.

He glances up behind the man. And he’s brought friends. Excellent.

“You’re the man who showed up with Shirayuki, eh?” Pavo eyes him speculatively, stopping at the shock of dark bristle at the top of his head. “You don’t strike me as her type.”

Obi grits his teeth. He shouldn’t start a fight. Miss wouldn’t like it.

“You’re right,” he says with a grin, letting his own gaze linger somewhere more southward of Pavo’s face. “She said she wanted to try something…bigger.”

He watches Pavo’s fist pull back with a smile. Worth it.

The door to the stables has hardly closed when Miss lays into him.

“What were you thinking?” She’s flushed; he assumes it’s a mix of anger and embarrassment. He’s still not an inch sorry. “Sit down.”

He does not so much sit as stumble, his knees folding as she backs him into a bale. She crouches down in front of him, rolling out her bag with a crisp efficiency that says more than words ever could about just how deeply she is frustrated by him.

Cool hands come to frame his face, dabbing stinging antiseptic onto his open cuts. “What were you thinking? Four men?”

His shoulders twitch in a shrug. “I wonder…”

He hisses as she pressed the cloth more firmly to his largest cut. Ah, but one of Pavo’s friends had gotten a lucky shot.

“I think I deserve more than that for an answer,” she tells him. “Considering how this is going to need a stitch or two.”

“You should have seen the other guy.”

Her mouth pulls flat. “I did. All of them. Pavo won’t be jumping any fires tonight, with that –”

Miss’s hands still. Ah, so he has been found out.

“Did you start a fight with Pavo?” she asks, fingers soothingly chill against his temples.

He offers her a grin. “I think it would be more accurate to say Pavo started a fight with me.” He presses a hand to his chest, wincing when he glances over a bruise. “I am a gentleman, after all.”

She is silent at that, her fingers softly brushing the bristle at his hairline, now slicked with sweat.

“Not a very smart man to start a fight with someone that looks like me, eh, Miss?” he teases, flinches when his smile pulls at the cut on his lip. “Ah, but it’s only to be expected, if he didn’t know what he had while he held it.”

“What do you –?” Her eyes pulse wide. “Kino.”

“Your secret is safe with me, Miss.” he assures her. “But some people need to learn a lesson about keeping promises –”

She laughs.

“Oh, Obi.” She wipes at her eyes, nearly doubled over. “What did she tell you?”

“That you l-laid with Pavo, and he –” it’s hard to talk over her laughter – “he wouldn’t make an honest woman of you.”

“Oh no, no.” Her head shakes frantically. “No that is not – oh, Obi, I’m afraid you fought over my honor for nothing.”

He blinks. “Eh?”

“Pavo asked me to marry him,” she explains with a smile. “And I said no. Twice.”

[artificialqueens]

If There Is Such A Thing (Katya/Violet)- Fryshook

Casual routine can only be casual for so long.

AN: One may be inclined to consider this a sequel to Gutted, but I’m not gonna tell you what to do.

Additional notes can be found on Ao3.

Violet was in California, watching snapchats of snowfall in New York from what they had come to consider their side of Katya’s bed. It was hard to pay attention, however, with Katya huffing and lolling his head around restlessly next to them.

“What’s wrong now?” Violet said, monotone, not looking up from their phone. “What’s wrooong, poodle?” They reached over to stroke the other queen’s wild hair. Katya leaned into Violet’s touch and sighed.

“Can I be real with you for a second?” he whispered, holding Violet’s wrist. Violet nodded, putting their phone down. “I want to be in love.”

“You’re so old-fashioned.”

“I know.”

“Moping about love when you got a hot piece of ass in your bed.”

Katya snorted, reaching under the covers to squeeze the ass in question.

“I love you,” he said, his voice deep and creepy. Violet rolled their eyes and groaned.

“Don’t start with this shit…”

“I do,” Katya sat up, looming over the lounging queen, running his hand down their narrow chest, stopping to dig his fingers into Violet’s hipbone. “Darling,” he smiled as his hand went lower. “how many times do I have to say it? I am completely… Utterly… Lustfully–”

Violet poked him hard in the ribs, earning a pained yelp from the other queen. Katya flopped back to his side of the bed, rubbing his sore side.

“Then why the fuck you moping, bitch?”

“Because!” Katya shot an irritated look at Violet, who shrugged, like, you asked for it, pal. “Christ. You know what I mean. This,” he waved his hand, “is wonderful and all, until you hop back on that plane, probably in the middle of the night, again, while I’m sound asleep, leaving me to fend for myself in a sea of thirsty, drunken… social media mavens…”

“Poor thing,” Violet said, watching Katya get lost in thought for a moment. Violet rolled their eyes and sat up to plant a kiss on his cheek. Katya caught them before they could pull away.

They had been doing this for a while, now.

Violet liked – no, Violet loved that they could spend the night, or a weekend, or nearly an entire fucking month with Katya doing truly insane things, and then go home thousands of miles away and never once worry about him becoming possessive, or weird, or crazy. Beyond the usual, at least. The only real drawback of their situation, really, were the hours of Violet’s young life they had sacrificed listening to Katya fret about Trixie Mattel and the string of flighty geeks who kept letting her down.

“It’ll never last,” Katya would say, every time, shaking his head and staring out in the distance at some lonely pink dystopia Violet could only imagine. “He doesn’t get her. I can tell.”

“Jesus Christ,” Violet would mutter. “Just go fuck her, already.”

And every time Violet said this, Katya would give them the same exasperated look and say: “Don’t be stupid. Trixie has standards, unlike some people.”

And Violet would curse and laugh with Katya until they couldn’t, usually because Katya’s tongue was in their mouth.

Back in bed, Violet wrapped their long arms around him, breaking their kiss to mumble something against the older queen’s shoulder.

“What was that?” Katya asked, dropping a kiss on top of Violet’s head.

“Don’t make me say it again,” Violet sighed. So he didn’t.

*

Violet didn’t think much of it when they did, eventually, go home and start this thing of sending Katya random selfies throughout the week. Always with a clever caption, of course. Sometimes Violet quoted poets and great thinkers, like T.S. Eliot and Lana Del Rey, if they felt their words properly reflected the beauty of said selfie. The thoughtful captioning may or may not have been a Katya-exclusive practice.

And sometimes Katya would respond - always something gross and/or weird, and never sexy (except, maybe, the dick pic with the tiny plastic hands wrapped around his boner (Violet was still deconstructing their feelings about that one) - and that was that.

It did occasionally lead to some awkward moments. Like when Violet’s trade noticed the camera and tried to squeeze into frame.

“Could you, um,” Violet waved their hand dismissively at one such guy who’d followed them home from the venue. He was pretty and stupid, but they had both orgasmed over a half hour ago and Violet wasn’t sure what the hold up was. “Move?”

“Um,” the guy - Ike? Ivan? - blinked, hanging off the edge of the bed. Violet stared at him, waiting.

“Look… babe,” Violet began, “that was great. Really fun. But you’re in my light.”

“Oh,” Ike-or-Ivan grunted. “Okay. Can we at least take a selfie? You said we could at the club, but then…”

Violet rolled their eyes and sighed. “Okay,” they said, “but it has to be the double dog filter and then you have to get the fuck out.”

*

Violet stopped sending the pictures when they heard that Katya had started pursuing some hot young artist in NYC who made erotic sculptures out of animal teeth, or some shit. They weren’t jealous of the relationship, whether it was real or not – there had been plenty of attempts between the two of them – They were just a little… irritated, with the fact that Katya had the nerve to be very visibly dating, of all things, a fetish artist in New York fucking City.

Perturbed was maybe the better term. Irked? Violet was irked when they saw Katya snapchatting from the studio, or posing over a ramen bowl with the handsome European fucker, and all they could hear in their head was that phony Russian idiot saying: I want to be in love.

Ugh, Violet thought, tapping through Katya’s 520 second snap story. I need to get laid.

*

“It’s okay to be sad,” Pearl said one day over coffee. They were on a plane headed west and Violet had quickly veered their conversation to a new topic once Pearl began listing the familiar faces she was planning to see in L.A.

Violet looked at her. “Sad about what?”

“That guy Katya’s seeing.” Violet’s eyes narrowed.

“Why would I be sad about that? Good for her.”

“Well,” Pearl drawled, “you’re definitely not happy about it…” Violet rolled their eyes, returning to their Twitter feed. “If it makes you feel any better,” Pearl said, “I did hear that Katya dicked down some clingy bilingual twunk in Austin last week. So it must not be that serious.”

Violet stared at Pearl.

“Clingly twunk, huh?”

Pearl nodded.

“Oh, Pearl,” Violet muttered. “You always know what to say.” Pearl smirked and patted Violet’s knee.

“There, there, buttercup…”

*

Monday night at Micky’s. Katya would be there. He never missed it.

Pearl slipped away to go catch up with Detox, leaving Violet to play it cool by the stage while they waited to see that stupid idiot walk in.

They were about to give up and go find Pearl when they heard a head-rattling cackle float through the door.

Violet stared at Katya for a few minutes, waiting to catch those bright eyes, before finally pulling out their phone and sending a text: bitch have u been wearing that damn shirt for a week straight?

They watched from across the room as Katya read the message, lifted his head up and just like that, spotted Violet across the room. Laser accuracy.

Katya grinned. Violet tried to stay cool, but they couldn’t help themself; it felt like their face was broken open.

Violet didn’t make their way to Katya, though. They’d come this far; It was Katya’s turn, now.

They stood their ground by the stage as Katya disengaged from his entourage, dodging a couple drunk fans as he cut his path to the young queen. Violet held their arms out for a hug and Katya leaped into them, wrapping his legs around Violet’s waist. Violet howled, gripping the dead weight of him for a moment before letting him down.

Violet made a show of looking around. “Where’s the bratwurst?”

“Franz?“ Katya laughed. “Franz is home.”

Violet swallowed a little vomit and pointed to the ground, mouthing, “here?”

Katya looked at Violet quizzically, shaking his head, thumbing East.

Ah.

“Too bad,” Violet said, “I’m dying to meet him.”

It was as if Violet had never left. They kiki’d hard; they discussed work and Trixie Mattel’s love life (which was much more optimistic these days, thank you very much), and brutally read each other until Violet let their gaze, their lips, their hands linger and Katya finally said, “I’m ready to go home, now,” and Violet nodded, their hand warm in Katya’s grip.

*

In the dark of Katya’s apartment, Violet said, “I missed you,” and Katya smiled into the skin of their neck, “I can’t believe how much I fucking missed you.”

“I can,” Katya said, his hand crawling up Violet’s thigh.

*

“Who’s that?” Violet asked, when the texts started coming and didn’t stop.

“The bratwurst,” Katya said, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. “He misses me.”

“So it’s true,” Violet drawled, suddenly uncomfortable. Too much light shined in on this side of the bed from the window. Violet didn’t remember that, and now it was giving them a headache. “Katya has finally found that great love she’s been looking for…”

“He’s… sweet,” Katya replied after a moment. “Good heart. Beautiful dick.” He cast a quick glance at Violet, who was pretending to read their twitter feed. Katya returned his attention to his text. “You would like him.”

“I don’t,” Violet said simply with a shrug. “He sucks. Fuck him.”

“He does, and I do.” When Violet didn’t laugh, or react at all to this response, Katya studied the young queen for a moment and added, quietly: “What are… why are we doing this?”

“What? What’s the matter?” Now Violet felt that trademark Chachki Petulance™ start to take hold and sniffed, “Afraid Franz isn’t gonna like you traipsing off to fuck an old friend once in awhile? Well,” Violet scrolled their phone aggressively, not really seeing anything but red, “Doesn’t really sound like a healthy modern relationship to me, Barb.”

Katya was staring at Violet, now, concern etched into his features. “He doesn’t mind,” he said, and Violet felt a pang at the idea that Katya had asked permission, or even told this guy about their… thing, at all. It was a strange sensation that they hadn’t felt in years. “If he did,” Katya continued, cupping Violet’s cheek and turning them to face him, “I wouldn’t be seeing him. I thought you understood that.”

Violet was quiet for a moment before finally saying, “I don’t.” They searched Katya’s eyes, not even caring how fucking ridiculous they sounded. “I don’t understand anything anymore.”

Katya had never looked at Violet like that before. He held their face in his hand, Violet’s jaw twitching in his grasp, before letting his grip slip to the back of their neck.

After a long moment, Katya said, “Okay,” and leaned in close. “Let me explain, then. As clearly as I can.”

He kissed Violet, who held him in place, clinging tighter than they intended.

“Je suis moi,” Katya began, moving to Violet’s cheek, to their jaw. “Et tu es tu,” their neck. “Et nous sommes nous,” Collar bone. “Et nous voici…”

“Idiot,” Violet sighed.

“…and I want that.”

Violet knew they were supposed to laugh, or swear, or something; but they couldn’t do any of that because a dangerous burning sensation seared their eyes. They took Katya’s face in their hands and brought him down to lay his head on their chest, holding him there as they drew a ragged breath.

“Brian,” Violet said, the emotion in their voice mangling his simple name.

Katya didn’t move. He stayed where he was, Violet’s hand in his hair, their heart hammering against his ear, and said, “I know.”