#cap why do you have a drawer in your fridge only for cheese?

[agenttommykinard]

as someone from the Midwest, they did not give Bobby Nash enough Midwesternisms

[cakesunflower]

Sentimental Love [Roommate!Calum AU] Part 1

Disclaimer: This is going to be a short mini fic--a small multi-shot, basically. It’ll probably have up to/around 5 parts in total. 

Probably gonna be angsty but, nonetheless, happy reading!

Part 1

“ARE YOU SURE he’s okay with this?”

Ashton Irwin let out an exasperated sigh as he walked in front of his worried cousin, Grace Elms, carrying a box of her belongings while she dragged along her carry-on suitcase. “Yes, now stop worrying and unlock the door,” Ashton responded, stopping in front of the apartment door marked 522.

Grace released a reluctant breath of her own before digging into the pocket of her shorts, pulling out the key that Ashton had given her and unlocking the door to her new residence. She let Ashton walk in first before following after, dark eyes immediately taking in the space. The apartment door opened right up into the spacious living room, ceilings a bit high and one wall just of windows that looked out at the street below of Greenwich Village. Some walls were brick while others were white cement, the floors a sleek light brown wood.

It looked better than the pictures Ashton had shown Grace, and she once again was surprised and grateful she had managed to find such a nice place to live that was affordable. The kitchen was joined with the living room, circular table with three chairs placed in the middle as a separator for the rooms. Next to the kitchen was a door to a coat closet and staircase lining up the wall leading to the second floor where the two bedrooms and bathrooms were located.

Too busy admiring the area, Grace remained standing in the middle of the room next to a comfortable looking dark grey L-shaped couch, one hand on the handle of her carry-on as she looked around. Wow, I really hit the jackpot, she couldn’t help but smile to herself, especially when she caught sight of the two potted plants on either end of the large window on the right wall. For a place that was only occupied by a boy, it was neat and tidy as hell.

“Come on, your room’s upstairs,” Ashton called, already halfway up the stairs as Grace looked at him.

Up the stairs, Grace glanced to her left, the glass railing that came up to her chest being the only thing separating the second floor to the ground as it looked out to the living room. She passed two closed doors before Ashton opened the third, revealing her new bedroom. It was a comfortable size, with a queen sized bed along the right wall, a dresser on the opposite with a white wooden sliding door closet and a dresser to the left of the door. A window looked out to the streets below and buildings around theirs, and Grace felt a flicker of excitement as she began thinking of ways to decorate it.

Ashton settled the box on the ground at the foot of the bed, before running his ring clad fingers through his dirty blonde hair and facing Grace. “We got more stuff to unload—let’s go.”

The next forty minutes or so were spent with Ashton and Grace making trips from the parking lot downstairs, unloading Grace’s belongings that were taking up any and every space in both her and Ashton’s cars. She felt a bit anxious with every box she brought into the apartment because the guy whose apartment she was moving into wasn’t home for the weekend, and she wasn’t sure if he would be okay with her moving in without him here.

But Ashton assured her that Calum, his friend and Grace’s new roommate, was totally alright with Grace moving in while he visited his family for the weekend, hence why he gave Ashton the spare key to give to her. Still, Grace couldn’t relax the anxious tension in her throat that always tightened at even the smallest of nerve-wracking reasons. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she was going to be living with a boy when she always felt as though she didn’t know how to act in front of the opposite sex. While she had been in relationships, Grace still found herself wondering if she came off as weird or socially inept in front of boys.

She’s met Calum, though, several times. He’s been a close friend of Ashton’s and she’s been around Calum at parties and dinners, though they couldn’t exactly be classified as friends—acquaintances, more like. The only communication she’s had with him other than the occasional liking of Instagram posts is talking to him through texts after the offer for living together had come up thanks to Ashton.

“The fact that you have more shit to pick up from your parents house is ridiculous,” Ashton commented with a huff, opening the fridge as if it were his own home and pulling out a bottle of water for himself.

Grace let out a sheepish chuckle, leaning against her thighs on the round table near the kitchen. “I’m moving into a new place—I gotta bring all my stuff,” she defended lightly, crossing her arms rubbing her hands up and down them. Ashton shook his head, sipping the water as Grace glanced around the space, the familiar excitement bubbling up once more.

She spotted a fairly sized dog bed by the end of the couch, remembering in that moment that Calum had a pet dog. Grace was perfectly fine with living with a dog, and the pictures she’d seen of Calum’s husky-corgi Duke made him look like the sweetest thing in the world, so she was pretty excited to meet him.

Though Grace still had yet to unpack the various boxes and suitcases taking up every inch of the floor of her bedroom, she joined Ashton in sitting on the comfortable couch. “You nervous about living in the city?” Ashton asked, facing his cousin as he propped his left elbow on top of the couch. “It’s a big change.”

Grace inhaled deeply, nodding slowly as she looked down at her fingers. Thin gold rings decorated most of them as she twisted the one on her right index finger around, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. It was a big change—Grace had finished her first two years of college in Rhode Island and now she was finishing her last two at New York University, which meant having to move into the city. She lucked out that Calum lived in Greenwich Village and the school was only a five minute walk from their building, but that didn’t meant she was already adjusting.

“I think I’m used to big changes at this point,” Grace reminded softly, eyes still on her hands as she played with a ring. The familiar heaviness settled in her chest once more, as if a rock was pressing down and making it difficult for her to breathe. But she did breathe; Grace took in a gulp of air before looking back at her cousin, offering the fake smile she had perfected over the months. “I’ll adjust fast. I’m good at that.”

Ashton reached forward, hand rubbing Grace’s shoulder comfortingly. Grace tried not to shrink away—she loved Ashton and loved that he cared, but she wasn’t fond of the sympathy his action entailed. “You’ll be totally fine here,” he assured, not picking up on Grace’s forced smile though still wanted to make sure she was fine. “Cal’s a great guy and you’ll love Duke—and if you’re not comfortable with the chicks he brings around, I’ll kick his ass,” he finished with a simple shrug, as if that’s all there was to it.

His last few words prompted a nervous laugh to escape Grace, gaze wandering towards the flat screen TV on the opposite wall from the couch. Calum was a single twenty-something year old guy, so she wasn’t surprised or disturbed at the knowledge of him bringing around girls he hooks up with. Grace just hoped that she didn’t have any awkward encounters with any of them. She wasn’t the best at small talk, and just imagining uncomfortable run-ins with Calum’s one night stands the morning after made Grace cringe.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Grace muttered to herself once Ashton left about an hour later, standing in the doorway of her severely cluttered room as she took in the suitcases, bins, and boxes strewn about.

With her Spotify playlist on, playing music one would never assume someone of her quiet and somewhat reserved nature to listen to, Grace began the strenuous task of unpacking. Clothes were folded in drawers and hung in the closet, shoes put away, her vanity decorated with makeup and anything else, and five pillows on her bed were done by ten o’clock that night.

Dinner found Grace looking through the various cabinets and drawers in the kitchen to situate herself with where everything was. Utensils in the drawer next to the stove, snacks in the long cabinet by the fridge, extra paper towels and cases of water along with a bunch of other things pushed to the back in the bottom cabinet in the corner where the counters met. Grace was relieved that everything seemed to be as organized as it could be, which she found kind of surprising seeing as a lone guy lived here. Then again, she shouldn’t judge.

It wasn’t until Grace sat on the couch with the TV remote in her hand and a plate of toast and cheese omelette—Grace enjoyed breakfast for dinner—in her lap when she noticed the small piece of paper on the small wooden coffee table in front of her.  She hadn’t seen it before when her and Ashton were sitting here, reaching forward to grab it and realizing there was something written on it. It surprised Grace the way her chest lightened with happy warmth when she read the messy, all-caps boyish handwriting that scribbled words on the paper.

Grace,

Sorry I couldn’t be around when you moved in, but I hope you found everything okay and settled in well. I’ll be back on Monday and maybe we can go out for drinks or something. See you soon.

—Calum

                                                              *****

Blue eyes stared back at Grace, tightening her throat and lurching her stomach in a familiar yet unpleasant notion. She was sitting on her bed, staring at a picture frame and wondering if it was a good idea to have this photograph at her bedside, for it to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up and the last thing when she goes to bed. She was conflicted, unsure if the picture of her and Toby should remain there or if she should shove it in her drawer.

Grace could feel her heart twisting every which way at the sight of the photograph, the familiar longing closing her throat and tears burning in her eyes as she peered at the picture of her dead boyfriend. “God,” she whispered to herself, sniffling as she grabbed the frame with a humorless, broken laugh. “It’s just never gonna get easier, is it?”

She merely placed the picture downwards on the bedside table before standing up, letting out a shaky sigh to steady her breathing. It’s been a year, Grace’s voice echoed in her head as a reminder, walking out of the bedroom and heading towards the stairs. Moving on wasn’t going to happen unless she made an effort and stopped suffocating herself with all the hurt. Toby wouldn’t want this for her, she knew that.

Since she was already dressed, Grace grabbed her purse and keys before leaving the apartment. It was early Monday afternoon and Calum had yet to return, but Grace had to head to work until five. Before moving to the city, Grace had arrived a few days prior to look for a job to help out with the rent since she obviously couldn’t keep working at the local outlet mall back home. So she found a job as the receptionist at a popular hair salon just a few blocks away from the apartment, which also wasn’t too far from NYU.   

It was a busy day with people constantly filtering in for haircuts and blow dries and threading appointments, and Grace distracted herself by humming to the music playing throughout the salon if she got too bored. Anything to keep her mind off of the new school year, Toby, and the thought of possibly seeing Calum in a few hours. Grace was aware that she was living with a guy she’s only met a handful of times, but it wouldn’t feel real until she was in the apartment with him.

Until then, Grace would just stew in a pit of anxious nerves and quiet apprehension.

                                                             *****

When Grace entered her apartment around five-twenty that afternoon, a brown bag of her dinner from Panera in one hand and cup of soda in the other, she hadn’t expected to be greeted by a familiar yet small dog as she shut the door. Her eyes widened in surprise as the dog, whom she recognized as Duke, sniffed around her feet and tried to jump up on Grace excitedly. She normally wouldn’t have minded, except that she was holding a bag full of food and a drink and didn’t want anything to spill on the floor or on the dog.

“Oh, uh, hi,” she awkwardly, though the smile was twitching on her lips at the enthusiastic nature of the small dog. Duke let out small yips as he circled her feet.

He looked up at her with dark eyes, nose sniffing Grace’s feet as he nudged her with it, too, and she remained rooted in the spot, not wanting to move. While she loved animals, she couldn’t help but feel apprehensive when it came to unknown ones because she didn’t know the animal’s personality and what could set it off.

“Come here, bud—that’s just our new roommate.”

The familiar voice caught Grace’s attention as she looked up, dark eyes landing on the figure descending the stairs and making his way over. She easily recognized Calum Hood; tall with curly dark brown hair and even darker eyes with an unmistakable Australian accent. Not to mention a lot more attractive than Grace remembered, clad in black sweatpants and a fitted blue shirt that hugged his torso nicely and showed off his toned, tattooed arms. Grace immediately averted her gaze from his figure, mentally chastising herself. She was here to live with him, not check him out.

Immediately, Duke retracted from sniffing at Grace’s feet and turned to run over to Calum, his short nails clicking against the hardwood floor as the man rubbed at his pet’s head before looking at the girl against the door. “It’s good t’see you again, Grace,” Calum greeted with a friendly smile, “been a while.”

“Yeah,” she responded with a small polite smile of her own, shoulders finally relaxing as she pushed herself off the door. “When did you, uh,  get back?”

“Couple of minutes ago, actually,” Calum informed as Grace made her way further into the living room, setting her things down onto the coffee table. “So you settled in okay, yeah?”

She nodded as she faced Calum once again, offering a small smile. That’s all she’s been capable of for the past year; small smiles that she managed to fake well enough to fool most people. Grace hoped Calum would be one of those—living with him would be easier that way. “Mhm,” she confirmed as she lazily gestured towards the stairs. “Just got a few more stuff to unpack but yeah, it’s good.” Then she added, “Thanks for letting me move in, by the way. You have no idea how much this helps me out.”

“It’s no problem; you’re helpin’ me out just the same,” he waved off with a grin. He then moved to grab something off the table behind the couch, and Grace noticed it was a leash. “I’m gonna let you have your dinner—gotta take Duke out for a walk. We can sit down and catch up when I get back, hm?”

Although she would much rather just eat and go to sleep, Grace realized that living with Calum didn’t mean she could avoid him. So she forced a smile and nodded, telling him that sounded good before he leashed Duke and left the apartment with him. Grace felt her shoulders ease from the tension as soon as the door shut, letting out a breath as she fell to the couch and pulled out the containers of macaroni and cheese and a salad she had gotten from Panera.

As she ate, the TV was on for the purpose of her finding something to watch but even after landing on an old episode of Bones, Grace easily got lost in her thoughts. She knew Calum and was kind of friends with him, so she knew the slight tension she felt at the sight of him wasn’t his fault. It was all her and the facade she’s had to put on for the past year—and now she had to do it in front of yet another person. To pretend to be okay when she’s been feeling her insides withering away since the moment she got news of Toby’s death a year ago.

But one thing she was grateful for was the way Calum didn’t look at her sympathetically, like she was fragile or something, granted that their interaction so far only lasted less than five minutes, but still. She knew that Ashton had told him about her boyfriend of two years’ death about a year ago, so Grace was glad that Calum both didn’t look a her the way others had been, or the fact that he didn’t say I’m sorry for your loss. He had called her when news of Toby’s death broke out, giving Grace his condolences, and that had been enough. She was grateful Calum didn’t feel the need to repeat the sentiments.

By the time Calum returned about half an hour later, Grace had changed into some more comfortable clothing and finished her dinner, still curled up on the couch as she watched TV. She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of the door opening and the tapping of Duke’s paws as he trotted inside, immediately making his way towards his bed towards the end of the couch near the TV.

Grace sat in the corner of the L of the couch, though she still felt the dip in it towards her left as Calum sat on the end with a relaxed sigh. His eyes were on the television, watching whatever Grace was watching before looking over at her. “I have to get groceries tomorrow. If you want anything I don’t already have, let me know, yeah? I’ll pick it up.”

She sat up slightly. “Oh, you don’t have to. I can just—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Calum insisted, not allowing her to protest as he smiled reassuringly. “We can just switch off on groceries, hm? I get ‘em one week and you the next.”

That sounded like a good compromise. “Yeah, that works.”

Calum nodded, satisfied as he looked back at the TV. A new episode of Bones was playing and his face scrunched up slightly at the sight of mangled human remains on the screen. Grace looked unfazed as he glanced at her, which was almost amusing. “So my offer still stands, by the way,” he spoke up, catching her brown skinned girl’s attention, her eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion. “For getting drinks to commemorate you moving in,” Calum clarified with a grin as Grace’s features softened into realization. “We can get the boys to come too, if you want.”

Grace couldn’t remember the last time she had gone out just to get drinks with anyone. Toby’s death made her a bit of a hermit, only ever leaving the house if she was absolutely dragged out or if it was a close friend’s birthday—she didn’t want to offend anyone by refusing to show her face. She also tried not to think of how Toby would probably be disappointed in her hiding out, when life was something she once enjoyed. And Grace knew the boys included her cousin Ashton, as well as his and Calum’s two other close friends Michael and Luke, who Grace knew as well. So maybe going out with them wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Besides, now that she’s living with Calum, she needs to not be as closed off as she’s been lately.

“Sure,” she relented with a small smile, giving a single nod as she brought her knees closer to her chest. She wanted to hide into herself. “Sounds like a plan.”

Calum smiled in satisfaction at her response, the slightest bit of crinkles appearing near his eyes as he did so before looking back at the TV, and Grace felt something in her chest soften at the sight of him. Then she frowned at herself at the warmth she felt when Calum smiled. She hadn’t experienced that small sensation in a while and, God, she had no idea how to feel now that it was unexpectedly resurfacing. It’s nothing, she told herself, focusing her attention on the TV and not on the guy sitting at the end of the couch. Absolutely nothing.

tags: @angelbbycal @wrappedaroundcal @gigglyirwin @crownedbyluke @gotta-try-something-new @hemmomfg @babygirlcashton @dxmncalum @ghstofcalum @biggestslutforcalum @irwinkitten @calumspeachy @calumthoodsyonce @grreatgooglymoogly @therainydays4 @booklove-2 @calumamongmen @stfujace @softboycal @invisiblexcth @lipstickstainfading @gettingjillywithit @dannisos @justalittleofmyworld @xhaileyreneex @calumh-excess @cosmixcalum @crystalisinfinite @sadbreakfast-club @cxddlyash @lovelettercalum @calistajs @asht0ns-world @egyptiangoldhood @mermaid-merrick @cal-pal-cuddles @cliffordcntrl @bbyhoneyharru @calistheloml @rip-lukes-balsamic @thesamebutwonderfullydifferent @captain-what-is-going-on @complete-trash-101 @babyloniancal @inlovehoodx @hearts-to-the-sky @early-thoughts @slimthicccal @nostalgia-luke @visualm3nte @babyloncalm @christmaswithcashton @clum-thomas @poppedpins @akacalciumhood 

[santana-maribel]

who: @santana-maribel and @finnsterhuddy​. where: santana & quinn’s apartment. when: monday 30th March. what: two morons make grilled cheese and fate intervenes once more to fuck up santana’s thirsting. warnings: nada.

Finn arrived to Santana and Quinn's apartment, a bag with grilled cheese ingredients in one hand. Not to repeat the same mistake as last time, he only brought enough ingredients for two sandwiches each, as he left a whole loaf of bread and an unopened pack of cheese at Rachel's. He knocked on the door, feeling slightly nervous although he wasn't sure if he had anything to be nervous about. Flirting with Santana was, to say the least, a highlight of his day, and he was intrigued to know if she had any motives behind it or if she was just simply being herself. Either way, he had always liked her company despite not having had a lot of it. "Hey. Ready for some grilled cheese?"

It was weird, one day Finn existed only on the edge of her radar. He was just her greek life partner, Sam's roommate. Then all of a sudden, Santana found herself with a pull towards him, something she couldn't explain or control. She'd slipped out earlier, bought a couple of six packs at the grocery store. She'd briefly remembered seeing him with the brand she'd bought, at the disastrous sleepover the previous week. So that's what she got. She was trying to impress him a little, not that she'd admit it. The apartment was quiet, as she paced around the kitchen, resisting the urge to look at her cellphone again, when there was a knock at the door. She opened it and looked up, smiling softly at him. "Come on in, make yourself comfortable," she requested, closing it behind him.

Finn stepped inside the apartment, once again in awe of how much higher standard these other apartments held compared to his and Sam's. "Should I leave this in the kitchen?" he asked, holding up the bag with groceries.

She nodded and made her way into the spacious kitchen, gesturing for him to follow her. "You can put it in the fridge or leave it on the counter, it's up to you," she suggested, as she leaned casually against the island countertop. "There's beer too."

"Cool, I'll just leave it in the fridge for now, just in case," Finn decided, leaving the bag as is in their fridge. He wasn't sure if he should be drinking at this point, but a beer couldn't hurt, right? Plus, it seemed like a casual hang-out enough to be chill about it. He grabbed a beer while he was at it. "So, about that fried chicken?"

"Pass me one too, would you?" she asked, stretching her hand across to him to take the beer. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. She reached into the utensil drawer for an opener, flicking the cap off of her own and then passed it to Finn to use. "Next time. I need to buy a pot big enough to actually fry chicken or a deep fat fryer. But I promise, it'll be the best chicken of your entire life," she gave him a cheeky wink at the end of her sentence.

Finn grabbed another beer and slid it over on her side of the countertop. "Thanks," he said as he accepted the opener, flicking off the cap on his bottle. "You telling me you haven't been making fried chicken here yet? Disappointed." He let out a small laugh, shaking his head in faux disapproval. "Is this why you're making me come over, to make you food?"

She shook her head back at him, "I normally go to Sam's, well your place to do it, but I guess I haven't for a while," she laughed, feeling her face turn a little pink from embarrassment. Oh well, it was just another excuse to hang out, wasn't it? "I made you come over because i'm craving a grilled cheese and I heard a rumour that you make the best ones," she teased, before taking a large gulp of her beer.

“I would’ve been all over it if I had been there for it,” Finn said with a certainty. He was happy she wasn’t totally disgusted over his grilled cheese - although he couldn’t understand why anyone would be. All due to his unconventional, yet genius method. “You’ve requested the right man,” he declared in a darker, goofy voice. “You want one now or do you wanna chill for a while?”

She nodded in agreement, he would have been all over it if she'd been around their apartment and making food recently. She made a mental note to check in with Sam later, now that she was done busting his balls about body shot-gate. "We could chill, finish our drinks, it's been six minutes and no one has interrupted us," she teased, as she breezed past him to walk into the living room, brushing against him slightly as she did. "I've got a good feeling about tonight."

"That's pretty crazy," Finn nodded at Santana's observation. It had been a running joke between them that started at the frat rushes and later at the mixers with her sorority, and while it was funny at first, it slowly became more and more frustrating that they never really got to talk before someone interrupted. "Don't jinx it though, Quinn's gonna come home in any second now." His face plastered with a grin, he followed Santana into the living room, taking a large swig off his beer. "So, West Side Story, huh? Didn't know you were into musicals."

The inside joke about being interrupted was one of the most irritating things in her life at that time. It seemed that fate intervened, every single time they tried to get to know each other better. Maybe they were cursed. She shook her head, as she plopped down on the couch, curling her feet under her. "Quinn is with Jesse, date night before rehearsals start, so no interruptions there. Unless Sammy decides to double down on the other night and burst through the door," she laughed, although her eyes did flicker towards the wooden frame, if only for a moment. She shrugged at his comment about the musical, "it started as just something to do but now i'm kind of into it. I like to sing and obviously as a raging narcissist, I love the attention," she explained, taking another large swig from her beer bottle.

"I see," Finn said nonchalantly, his heart skipping a beat knowing that they--or at least Quinn--weren't happy as she had confided in him. In a sense, he should've been happy about it considering he had been brewing feelings for the blonde the past few months, but he couldn't bring himself to be that selfish knowing his friends' relationship was on the line. He let out a faint, heartless chuckle, too caught up in his head to react to Santana's comment. "Yeah." He snapped out of his thoughts, turning to face Santana as she spoke further. "I'm not sure I've heard you sing properly, or at least in a performance kinda way. Glad I said yes to run lines with you, maybe I'll get to hear you sing."

Santana narrowed her eyes at him, watching silently as the wheels turned in his brain. She wasn't sure what he was thinking about, only that it gave her a strange sort of sinking feeling in her stomach. Her fingers traced over the silver scar on her left arm, a nervous habit that she'd had for as long as she could remember. No memory of how she got it, just that it had always been there. She nodded, now a little absentmindedly as he spoke. "Yeah, I mean it'll be fun. I'm just glad you said yes, Rachel, Jesse, Kurt, Blaine, they're all super into it, you'll be more fun," she smiled at him, before draining the remaining liquid in the bottle. "I'm gonna grab another."

"They'd scare you off," Finn chuckled half-heartedly as he took another sip of his beer. "Glad to hear you have faith in me to not be crazy about it." He nodded as she announced she was getting another beer. "Grab one for me too?"

"Yes they would," she readily agreed. She loved her friends but their intensity was a little much at times. Which was why she could find solace in a quiet, chilled night with a handsome man. Santana nodded as she rose from her spot and carried her empty to the kitchen. Out of sight, she took a moment to suck down a greedy breath of air, calming herself. What the fuck was going on? Why was she this flustered by Finn goddamn Hudson? Unclear. She grabbed two bottles and the opener and returned to the couch, springing the caps off of them. "So you're serious about leaving the frat then?" she asked, settling her beer on her thigh.

Finn leaned back in his seat, letting himself get comfortable on the couch while waiting for Santana. It was pretty nice getting this quiet, alone time with her, considering they never made the time to do so otherwise. It felt comfortable, safe, almost as if he kinda belonged in a weird way. He didn't exactly understand why - it wasn't like he really knew her that well. But yet, here he was, feeling almost more comfortable with her than he did with himself. "Thanks, San." He sat up a little, clearing his throat before speaking. "Uh, yeah, I think I am. I have to convince Seb and the rest of the boys that I'm not doing it because I wanna leave them, which is gonna be hard because they already gave me so much crap for moving in with Sam," he sighed, taking a large, final swig of his first bottle before moving on to the next. "It sucks a lot, but it's for the best. At least for me."

She nodded understandingly. It was no secret that she wasn't super into her sorority either, so she understood. Like a lot of things in Santana's life, rushing a sorority had just been something to pass the time. "So you told Seb then? How did he take it?" she asked, remembering how irritated the other man had been when Finn moved out. She couldn't really be bothered with him giving a pissy attitude over this. "Like I said though, you gotta do what's best for you," her voice trailed off at the end, before piping back up softly, "I'll miss you, really. If it wasn't for you swooping in and saving me at that first mixer, I would have got paired with that super senior, the grabby dickhead." It was a sweet memory now, lanky freshman Finn slipping in front of her, saving her from getting her tits squeezed like a stress ball, under the thinly veiled excuse of hazing.

"Not good," Finn groaned, shaking his head at the thought of Sebastian and the other guys condemning and icing him out from their lives. If it did any good, it proved that they were never real friends to begin with. "Yeah, that guy was a total dick. Pretty sure he got kicked out of school too," he reminisced. Honestly, he didn't remember too much from that first mixer, but he did remember thinking Santana was hot and didn't at all deserve to be harassed by that awful dude. It made him smile knowing she had remembered it, though.

She didn't say anything about Sebastian's shitty attitude towards him instantly, just nodded and took a sip of her drink. She didn't need to hear anymore than what he had said to know exactly the mood her best friend would be in. Deciding she had mulled over it long enough, she reached over and squeezed his hand with her own. "Seb will come around and if he doesn't, if it's any consolation, you'll still have me," she gave a soft smile. "But who's going to save me from sex offenders now?" she teased, leaning over to prod him in the ribs with her other index finger.

Finn felt a smile creep onto his face when he felt Santana’s hand in his, squeezing hers in return. “Thanks,” he said softly. “Sorry—“ He jerked to the side as her finger poked his ribs, letting out a short, breathy laugh. “You’re on your own. Or maybe Seb can scare them off.” Shrugging, he took a sip of his beer. “You hungry yet? Let’s make some grilled cheese.”

If she believed in that shit, she could have sworn that her heart skipped a beat the minute he squeezed her hand back. But she simply shrugged it off, laughing alongside him when he reacted to her prod. She nodded, she was actually quite hungry. She'd almost forgotten the bullshit reason that she had made up to get him to come over. "Sure," she agreed. She took another quick gulp of beer for courage or whatever, she didn't know, but the ice cold alcohol was welcomed. She stood up and walked into the kitchen, setting her beer on the counter, before hopping up beside it, crossing her legs at the knee.

Finn got up and walked into the kitchen alongside Santana, opening the fridge to get the ingredients. "Why don't you get me an iron and some tin foil and I'll show you the greatest way to make a grilled cheese?"

Santana nodded, pointing towards the drawer closest to Finn. "Tinfoil is in there, i'll go grab the iron," she chirped, hopping down off of the counter to go to the laundry cupboard in the hallway. She wasn't someone who ironed often, so really it didn't matter if the iron got all messed up anyway. Lifting it off of the shelf, she wrapped the cord up tightly and brought it back to the kitchen. "Your tool," she giggled, handing it over to him, before resuming her position on the counter top, the almost empty beer in hand.

Finn went to the drawer she pointed to, grabbing the tin foil and making sheets for each sandwich. He began doing his thing - buttering the bread slices on both sides, though lighter on the side touching the foil, then putting two slices of American cheese on one slice per sandwich. He assembled them, packed them in the foil and waited for Santana to return with the iron. "Awesome. Get ready for some epicness," he announced, turning the iron on and waiting for it to get warm. "This doesn't look bad, does it?"

If someone had told her a month ago, that she'd be sitting on her kitchen counter, throwing back beers and waiting on a grilled cheese with Finn, she would have laughed in their face. But the world had a funny way of surprising her. She watched, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing at just how serious and methodical he was, as he assembled the sandwich. "No, it looks pretty good," she admitted.

Not even a week ago, Santana just about refused to try his grilled cheese or even believed it could be any good. Yet, she somehow had changed her mind, much to Finn's surprise (but excitement, nonetheless). Truth be told, his grilled cheese wasn't that unique, which everyone probably thought it was due to the way it was made, but he wasn't going to tell anyone that. "Right? People think I'm doing this to be weird, but honestly, it's just a convenience thing. It became a habit when my mom would use the kitchen and I would crave a grilled cheese, so I saw someone make it with an iron on TV and started doing it myself," he told. "And I guess it just kinda became a thing after that. I do know how to make a grilled cheese the usual way, just so you know."

Santana nodded, more bemused than anything else, watching as Finn wrapped the sandwiches in foil and then turned to speak to her about his method. She balanced the bottle on her thigh and listened intently as to how he came about his methods, still stifling a giggle that threatened to escape her. He was so cute and like she had said in her previous texts to him; it made he nervous. A hissing brought her back to earth with a bump and she eyeballed the iron. "I think it's ready to go, Chef Hudson," she remarked, eyes on him as he went to work. This was the most fun that Santana had, had in a long time, it was almost embarrassing how much she was enjoying simply being able to let go of everything else and just enjoy Finn's company.

Finn took Santana's cue and grabbed the iron to put it on the foil-packaged grilled cheese. "If you're new at this, you should hold the iron while it's on the sandwich. But you know, I'm a pro, so," he teased, laying the iron carefully on the sandwich and letting it rest on it for 30 seconds. "You should try the next one, if you want."

"Are you sure that i'm ready?" she joked, watching as he placed the iron on top of the little silver package that he'd made. Her stomach grumbled a little, as she waited for the sandwich to be ready. "Thanks for coming over and feeding me," she smiled at him. It was undeniably comfortable with him here. For some reason, it felt like he belonged. The thought made panic run through her body and she drained the rest of the golden liquid in her beer bottle.

Finn flipped over the sandwich, repeating the same steps with the other side. "I think you are," he encouraged, flashing a cheeky smile as he took the iron off the sandwich. "It's gonna be a little hot, so you have to be careful." Slowly, he took off the foil, revealing his infamous grilled cheese. The bread had browned slightly, but not charred, and the cheese had just begun to ooze out the bread. "Can you get me a knife?"

Her stomach grumbled again and she rubbed it soothingly, ignoring how her stomach then lurched when he shot her a devastatingly handsome smile. She nodded, watching as he unwrapped the foil to show her the sandwich. It looked absolutely to die for, she thought inside her head. Santana lifted a knife from the block on the counter next to her and held it out for him to take. "It looks really good," she acknowledged.

"Thanks," Finn said, grabbing the knife and cutting the grilled cheese in halves. He picked up one half for Santana and the other for himself. "Cheers. Hope you like it."

She took the sandwich from Finn and smiled at him, before she raised it to her mouth and took a large bite. Maybe it was the fact she was several beers deep, or the fact that she was battling a weird, out of nowhere infatuation with the boy next to her; but the grilled cheese might have been the best thing she'd ever eaten at that moment. "It's so good," she groaned through mouthfuls.

"Right?" Finn was truly excited that she actually liked it, but he never really doubted she would. It was a classic grilled cheese, after all. He took a last swig of his beer before handing the iron over to Santana, signalling her to try the next one. "Give it a go."

She sat the iron down on the counter for a moment and hopped off of her make-shift seat, slotting in directly next to him. She'd never quite realised just how small she was standing next to Finn and she lifted the foil wrapped sandwich and placed it in front of her. Heeding his original warning, she lifted the iron and held it on the sandwich, not letting her hands move from it, her tongue poking out a little in concentration. If she managed to screw this up, he'd never let her live it down.

Finn took a large bite of his sandwich, stepping carefully behind Santana. “If you want, you can put a little pressure on it too,” he said, gently laying his hand on top of hers to press the sandwich down. It felt nice being this close to her, almost as if it was something familiar instead of new, despite not having been close to her like this before. “Like this.”

If she thought she was in trouble before, when he was simply near her, Santana wasn't entirely prepared for Finn to step behind her, press his body into hers and clasp his hand over hers. Her entire brain was in panic mode now, as she kept her eyes down, ignoring how right it felt to have Finn grasping her hand. "Like this," she repeated, thumb brushing against the side of his hand.

Finn had always enjoyed flirting, knowing he had a charm that seemed to work most of the time. It was fun, easy and harmless. With Santana, it felt different and he couldn't point his finger at exactly what it was that was different. He never really thought about having real feelings for Santana, despite acknowledging that she was stunning, smart and a lot of fun to be around. But maybe that was what he was feeling now, or? "You're doing good," he said in a low voice, leaning in closer to the girl.

She'd been teetering a line with Finn recently, one that like him, she couldn't explain. Even Sebastian, her best friend and current bed warmer, who'd never once got jealous before when she'd been into someone, could tell that there was something different when it came to Finn. She didn't dare turn around to face him, not yet. Her heart was beating so loudly in her chest, she was afraid that he could hear it. "Well, I learned from the best," she chuckled softly, letting out a small shiver as his warm breath hit her bare skin.

With his hand still on Santana's, Finn moved his thumb slightly by instinct to rub her hand softly. He had bent down slightly due to the height difference, his lips inching closer to her face. Was he about to do this? Every bone in his body compelled him to make a move, and it was getting harder and harder to resist. It wasn't like he needed to resist - there was nothing in the way. Yet, he couldn't get a grip on why he didn't just turn her around, lift her onto the counter and finally feel her lips against his. The thought of it made him nervous.  Maybe, that was why she was nervous now, too. He could feel his palms starting to sweat, worried that she would sense it too.

Santana was practically frozen, trapped between the kitchen counter and Finn. Not that she minded it at all in the slightest normally, but right now, she was panicking. His hand brushed hers and she let out a soft whimper at the small interaction. She wasn't the kind of girl who considered consequences, she simply just took things that she wanted. And fuck, she wanted Finn. There was no explanation, no reason, she simply just knew that she needed to take a chance and make a move. Yet, she was terrified. This was uncharted territory; a culmination of so many attempts to get to know one another. Now they were alone, with no interruptions, his lips dangerously close to the exposed skin of her shoulders.

It was like the whole world had stopped and it was only the two of them and nothing else. Finn had never really felt that way before, not intensely as this moment felt. This moment felt like a now-or-never kind of ordeal, and if he missed out on taking a chance, he'd never get the opportunity again. They were unfortunate, bound to have their chances taken away from them in a heartbeat, and he was certain he had to act on it now or someone would barge in the door. He grabbed the hand he was already holding, jerking his hand up her arm and swiftly turned her around so they were facing each other and looking into each other's eyes. He moved his hands to her waist, scooting her body closer to his and he leaned down to kiss her. His lips had barely just begun to touch hers when he registered a loud beeping noise coming from somewhere, and he let go of Santana's body the moment he realized why it was beeping. The hot iron on the foil had been lying on it for far too long, and the scent of smoke was becoming more and more prominent. "Crap," he muttered as he quickly removed the iron from the sandwich, waving off the smoke that was forming in front of them.

Time seemed to slow down, as they stood together in the kitchen, fingers lacing together. The room was silent, save for the sound of their breathing, her shallow breaths filling the air. She considered saying something but before she could, Finn’s hands were on her, spinning her around to face him. This was a side of him that she'd never seen before; the take charge and get shit done side. She was definitely a fan of it. His hands moved to her waist and she pressed her body into his, arms moving to circle around his neck. “Finn...” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut as he closed the gap between the two of them. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. She could hear ringing and this time, it wasn’t in her ears because of the man in front of her. Her eyes shot open and she glanced up towards the ceiling. The smoke alarm above their heads was beeping, smoke riding from the sandwich underneath the iron. She’d committed the cardinal grilled cheese sin and taken her focus off of the iron. “Fuck,” she groaned, grabbing a kitchen towel and wafting underneath the alarm. The moment was lost.

The smoke alarm going off really slapped Finn back to reality. Dumbfounded, he stood there taking a moment to realize what had happened. Time went so fast, yet simultaneously so slow, but now they were faced with another situation where things got cut off between the two of them, only this time it was due to the lack of attention being paid to the grilled cheese. "I got it," he said as he reached for the smoke alarm, ripping the battery off the device to stop the shrieking sound. "Crazy, huh?" He attempted to chuckle it off, not sure whether to find the situation humorous or not, as the atmosphere was pretty intense just a short minute before.

She'd promised Aubrey that she'd give it one more chance, that she would make her move and see where it led them. She'd done that and once again, they had failed to take it further. It really was like the universe couldn't stand to see them together, couldn't stand to see them explore whatever the flirtation that they had going on. Maybe that was it really, maybe it just had to stay a flirtation. She gave him a half smile and lifted the now burnt sandwich, wrinkling her nose at the smell before she tossed it in the trash can. Part of her wanted to grab his face and press her lips against his, hard, but she busied herself tidying up the mess that they'd made. "Crazy, yeah," she murmured, as she looked over to him, trying to get a read on his thoughts.

"At least we got to eat one," Finn comforted, his genuine attempt at lightening up the mood falling short even for him. "I don't wanna be weird, but I think I have to go. I got a presentation for human development class tomorrow, so I gotta get that finished." It wasn't like he tried to escape this moment, but that was probably what it seemed like. Maybe that was for the best. "It's been really cool hanging with you, Santana. We should, uh, do it again."

For someone like Santana, the feeling of utter humiliation and rejection that was washing over her body, was completely foreign. This wasn't supposed to happen. She stayed silent for a moment before she gave him a half smile. "Yeah, sure," she said quietly. Her appetite for food was lost and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed. She was right; he wasn't into her. At least now she had concrete confirmation. They'd almost kissed, he'd ran out straight after it. Hard to find a grey area with that. She helped him pack up his things and walked him to the front door. "Well, you know where to find me, Huds," she offered, in a voice that didn't quite sounds like her own. "Good luck with your... thing," she called after him. Truthfully, she hadn't listened to exactly what it was, just that he was most likely making an excuse to get out of the apartment, quickly and without hurting her feelings. She closed the door behind him and let out a soft sigh, as she leaned against the cold wood. Fuck feelings.

[artificialqueens]

A God-awful crackfic but its Sashea so y'all will love it- Mock-Star

Remember how I said I couldn’t write crack fics? Well, this is about as close as it’s going to get. And by this, I mean an mpreg fic. I don’t really know if there’s a guide to mpreg, but since it’s a crack fic, I’ve just made my own rules for my purposes. Shout out to the anon(s) who have requested this in the past, but I cant write this as angst, so it’s mostly fluffy. Another shout out goes to Mistress for her Branjie mpreg crackfic and lighting a fire under my ass to finish this, as well as inspiring the name of this fic. Love you Missy!!!! Xxxxxx

Sasha walked into the kitchen where Shea was cooking, the pot on the stove was covered, and she could smell fish baking in the oven. Shea walked over to her and kissed her forehead as Sasha retrieved a jug of milk from the fridge. She handed Sasha a glass and Sasha smiled at her in thanks before opening the jug.

“Ewww! That’s spoiled!” Sasha exclaimed as she smelled it, turning away from it in disgust. Shea leaned in and smelled it too, sniffing deeply.

“It smells fine to me, is your nose stuffed up?” She asked, ripping a paper towel off and handing it to Sasha. Sasha rolled her eyes before blowing her nose and smelling it again, almost gagging from the stench.

“Nope, it’s gone bad.” She said, covering her nose, annoyed that Shea had made her smell it again. Shea checked the expiration date before taking a swig, and Sasha gagged again, grossed out that she could drink it when it smelled so bad.

“Well, it’s not expired yet, and I think it’s fine, so let’s keep it and I’ll drink it, or you can put chocolate syrup in it and make chocolate milk to mask whatever you’re smelling.”

“No. I’m not drinking that, and I don’t want you drinking it either.” Sasha insisted, capping the jug to stop the smell. It still lingered in her nose, and she was pissed about it.

“Ok, you don’t have to drink it, but I’ll keep it and drink it when you’re not around. I don’t want it to go to waste.”

“Whatever, if you get sick it’s not my fault.” Sasha snapped, rummaging for something that smelled good. She found peppermint extract and smelled it, it smelled way better, and she relaxed as Shea put the milk back in the fridge. She turned to go back to what she was doing before she was stopped by Shea’s arms, she turned her back around before pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, and although she was still mad, Sasha felt her tension melt away.

“You don’t feel hot; do you feel ok? Could you be getting sick?” Shea asked, and Sasha could hear the tenderness and concern in her voice.

“I don’t feel bad. I guess I’m imagining things.” She whispered, feeling tears pool up. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“It’s ok, you’re worried. And I don’t think you’re imagining things either, we probably just have different opinions on what smells bad.” Shea comforted her. Sasha nodded, but the tears still fell. Shea wiped them away and kissed her before running her fingers along her sides, and Sasha shrieked into the kiss, trying to pull away, but she was trapped in Shea’s arms.

“There’s that smile!” Shea goaded as Sasha laughed and flailed under her tickles, she let up and wrapped her arms around Sasha’s waist, pulling her in for another kiss. Shea always managed to cheer her up.

“Dinner will be ready in a minute. Can you grab some plates?” Shea asked into the kiss, squeezing her ass.

“Yeah.” She untangled from the hug and grabbed plates from the cabinet, heading over to their little breakfast nook and setting the table. Shea came up behind her with the pot and started serving food, careful not to burn her with the pan.

The rest of the night was uneventful, and Sasha forgot all about the milk until the next morning, when Shea hugged her from behind while she was washing her face.

“I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“The milk that you said was spoiled last night. When I went to go pour some while you were in the shower, it smelled awful, like rotten eggs.” Sasha gagged at the thought, Shea rubbing her back as she doubled over. “You must have smelled it before I did. I’m sorry for insinuating you were sick.” She cooed as she kissed Sasha’s neck gently, rubbing her sides. Sasha leaned back into her touch, accepting her affection.

“It’s fine. But you got rid of the milk, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I poured it down the drain and ran the water down after it. I even rinsed the bottle out and sprayed air freshener. It’s gone.”

“Good.”

After breakfast, they got to work, going off to their own little corners to work on their own projects. A little after lunchtime, Sasha started to crave something sweet, and trying to ignore it only made it stronger, to the point where she started to drool. So she decided to give in and head to the kitchen and try to find what it was she wanted. After standing in the kitchen for a few minutes, she opened the freezer and found a carton of vanilla ice cream. She let it sit out on the counter while she found something to top it with, and she settled on some off-brand frosted flakes. She looked in the fridge for something to drink, and her eyes landed on the bottle of chocolate syrup. Grabbing it, she dug the ice cream scooper out of the drawer and scooped up some ice cream, topping it with the frosted flakes and the syrup.

“Are you eating ice cream? Babe, it’s like 2:10.” Shea asked, coming up behind her and startling her. “Did you put frosted flakes on it? That’s different for you.”

“I was craving sugar.” Sasha said meekly, embarrassed. She felt tears pool up, and she didn’t know why.

“Babe, I’m teasing. You’re an adult, you can eat ice cream all you want. The fact that you’re craving it probably means your blood sugar is low.” Shea cooed, hugging her from behind and kissing her tears away. “Scoop me up some?” She asked, and Sasha giggled and scooped some for her, something that was harder with her holding onto her. She sprinkled on frosted flakes and drizzled on chocolate syrup, and they sat down at the table to enjoy their snack together, playing footsie, giggling, and just being together. When they had to get back to work, Sasha held on to Shea tightly for a few moments, savoring the taste of sugar lingering on her tongue and the weight of Shea’s arms around her. She reluctantly let go and got back to work. A few hours later, Shea came up behind her and tapped her shoulder, and Sasha spun around to talk to her.

“I was thinking of making stir fry for dinner, what do you think?”

Typically, Sasha would have said yes. But for some reason, her stomach turned at the thought, and she almost gagged. She covered her mouth, and she could see the look of worry in Shea’s eyes as she knelt down closer to her, rubbing her knee.

“Not tonight, maybe something with pasta?” Pasta was usually a safe bet, even when she felt ill, but she didn’t feel bad, and she had no idea what was up with her stomach.

“That actually sounds good, I’ll go start fixing something.” Shea said, and Sasha could see the wheels turning in her head, but she wasn’t sure what she was thinking.

When Shea set a plate of pasta in front of her, Sasha knew it was going to be a bad time. The sauce that she loved no longer looked appetizing, and her mouth protested against the idea of the parmesan cheese. She forced herself to eat anyway, but she didn’t swallow more than a few bites before she gagged. She tried to continue eating, but it became very clear very quickly that that wasn’t going to happen. She sprinted to the bathroom and managed to make it to the toilet before it came back up. She coughed and gagged and cried as she heaved. She felt Shea come up behind her and rub her back as the worst of it was ending, and she took off her glasses for her before she slumped onto the seat. When round 2 made its appearance, one hand moved to her head, and the other slipped under her shirt, and she rubbed her skin while she was throwing up, and even when it was just dry heaving. Sasha sat back and leaned into Shea while Shea reached out and flushed the toilet, holding her loosely while Sasha caught her breath. Shea took her shirt off for her to help her cool off, and her hands wandered down to her belly, resting her hand and feeling her stomach rumble as it tried to settle.

“I think I’m going to walk to the corner store for some Gatorade and anti nausea medicine, any other requests?” When Sasha shook her head, Shea leaned in and pressed a kiss against the side of her head. “Ok, try and take a shower while I’m gone and see if that helps.” Sasha nodded, and Shea helped her stand up and even helped her undress and turn the water on. The shower did make her feel a lot better, and she dried off and dressed in some cozy PJs and sat on the couch waiting for Shea.

When Shea returned, she greeted Sasha with a forehead kiss before going to put the Gatorade in the fridge. She came back with a shot glass of water and a pill, and Sasha took the pill and handed Shea back the glass, who took it into the kitchen. Shea came back into the living room with something behind her back, and she sat down across from Sasha and rubbed her knee.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well.”

“Thank you babe. I actually don’t feel bad, I just don’t know what’s wrong.”

Shea sighed and took a deep breath.

“I think I may have an idea.”

She showed Sasha what was behind her back, and Sasha felt a jolt of fear when she saw it.

“You think I might be pregnant?”

“I don’t know. It would explain a lot of what’s been happening in the past 48 hours: the strong sense of smell, the mood swings, the strange cravings, the food aversion, the nausea. It makes sense. And I would rather know for sure one way or another than keep guessing. It may be too early to tell, but if you want to, let’s go take this and get some idea.”

Sasha starred at the test while Shea rested her hand on her knee, rubbing it gently.

“Male pregnancy is incredibly rare. All I remember about it from sex ed is that girls born to two males have a 50/50 chance of being sterile and a C-section is practically necessary. Babe I’m scared.”

“I am too. But we need to know if you are pregnant so we can decide what to do. You don’t have to take it tonight, but if these symptoms continue, you’re going to have to. Wouldn’t you rather know for sure that keep guessing?”

Sasha took a deep breath and squeezed Shea’s hand.

“Ok, I’ll take it. But you have to hold my hand while we wait for the results.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” Shea smiled at her, and she kissed her hand as they stood up and walked into the bathroom.

The test was straight forward, your typical pregnancy test, but designed for males and with an 98% accuracy rate. They sat on the edge of the bathtub while they waited, hands intertwined. Sasha leaned against Shea’s shoulder, and Shea kissed her forehead as Sasha let out a sigh.

“I think it’s ready.” Shea said, and Sasha reluctantly pushed herself up and retrieved the test from the counter, covering the results with her hand to look at together. Shea was standing, and she hugged Sasha from behind as Sasha opened her hand and held out the test.

It was positive. Very clearly positive.

Sasha gasped, and her hand went to her stomach, and Shea’s hand covered her hand. They stood there like that for a while, frozen. Shea came to her senses first, and she turned Sasha around and cupped her face gently.

“Do you want to get an abortion?”

“No.”

“Do you want to place them up for adoption?”

“No. I want to keep it. And I want to raise it with you.” Sasha said, and it was true. She never planned on being a parent, but when she saw that positive test, she knew there was no way she could not raise her child. Her child with Shea.

Tears sprung from Shea’s eyes, and she smiled as her hands moved down to Sasha’s stomach.

“I guess we’re having a baby then.”

“We’re having a baby, maybe more than one.” Sasha smiled and laughed as tears flowed from her eyes.

“I love you. I never thought it was possible to love you more than I love you right now. And I especially love this little one, I haven’t even met them and I love them so much.” Shea cried, rubbing Sasha’s stomach.

“I love you too. And our little one loves you too. Sasha cried, wiping away Shea’s tears and placing her hand over Shea’s hand, lifting her shirt up to let Shea touch her bare skin. Shea dropped down to her knees and placed a kiss against Sasha’s stomach, and Sasha rubbed her neck as Shea began whispering against her skin.

“Hi little one. Can you hear me? I don’t know what you’re going to call us yet, but we love you so much little one.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m going to be so huge!” Sasha lamented, running her hand across her flat stomach as Shea grinned at her from below.

“Huge and sexy. You’re going to be so pretty with a little pregnant belly.” She cheesed, tickled her sides and grinning at her laughs.

“You flatter me.” Sasha cooed. And Shea stood up and picked her up, swinging her around while she shrieked.

“You wanna try for twins?” Shea asked as she cradled Sasha and started walking to the bedroom, knocking the pregnancy test on the ground in her excitement.

“It doesn’t work that way!!” Sasha laughed as Shea laid her on the bed on her back.

“How do you know? It could!”

“Biology!”

“Babe, this is already a biological rarity, who knows?!”

“I am 95 percent sure it doesn’t work that way!”

“Do you wanna get fucked or not?”

“…Yes!”

“That’s what I thought.”

Later that night, Sasha woke back up, it was significantly darker outside, and she was propped up on a mound of pillows, but that’s not what woke her up. Shea was lying on her legs with her head on her stomach, pressing kisses against it and singing to it, nursery rhymes and love songs and whatever songs came to mind. It was so sweet it made Sasha cry. Shea’s head popped up and smiled at her, rubbing her stomach affectionately. She held out her arms, and Shea crawled up to her, kissing her cheeks and lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you. This is one of the best days of my life, and I cant wait to meet our child. You already look so amazing and we just found out. I may have a pregnancy kink.” Shea laughed, resting her hand on her stomach.

“I am closing up shop after this, so don’t get used to it!”

“Fair enough.” Shea chuckled. She leaned in and kissed her. Sasha smiled into her lips. Her life had taken an unexpected turn, but she couldn’t have asked for a better one. The love of her life and their child. And maybe a dog if she could talk Shea into it. She was so happy, and the best was yet to come.

[whumphoarder]

Face God and Walk Backwards Into Hell

Summary: Peter is lactose intolerant—and arguably masochistic—and this somehow becomes Tony’s personal cross to bear.

(In the same universe as Spider-Man’s Very Mundane Kryptonite, but the stories can be read independently) 

Word count: 1,763

Genre: Fluffy illness, humor, sickfic

Link to read on A03

After initially finding out that the kid was lactose intolerant, Tony started doing everything in his power to help Peter avoid dairy. He stocked three kinds of plant-based milks at the compound—soy, almond, and cashew. If he was ordering pizza for team training nights, he would always make sure to have non-dairy pasta and salad options on the side. Chips and pretzels were served with hummus or bean dips rather than sour cream based ones, and Tony even tried out a vegan cheese version of his mother’s beloved lasagna recipe.

All these precautions would have likely been very effective, if only Peter wasn’t such a little shit.

At first, Tony assumed the kid just made a mistake. That was what he figured when he shuffled into the kitchen at one a.m. on a training weekend to discover the teenager standing with his back to the entrance, rifling through his cabinets.

Tony stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest in amusement. “Looking for something?”

Peter startled and spun around, eyes wide. “Whoa, what are you doing up, Mr. Stark?”

“Insomnia’s a bitch,” Tony scoffed. “But I could ask the same about you. Shouldn’t you be wiped from your training session with Cap earlier?”

Peter’s stomach growled loudly in response, causing his unusually pale cheeks to flush slightly.

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Are you hungry? If you need a snack, try the fridge.”

With a small groan, Peter snaked an arm around his middle. “Uh, no thanks,” he said with a grimace. “I’m not feeling so great, actually.”

“Stomach ache?” Tony guessed.

Peter looked embarrassed, but nodded anyway. “I didn’t mean to bother you, I just was seeing if you had anything down here I could take for it.”

“You mean like Pepto, or…?” Tony asked with a frown.

Peter shook his head. “That doesn’t usually work very well. May has these like, enzyme pill things that sometimes help...?” he said hopefully.

Tony quirked his head in thought. “Pepper might have something,” he mused. “She’s fully on the herbal supplement bandwagon.” He crossed the kitchen over to a drawer next to the fridge and opened it to reveal a few dozen small bottles.

With some assistance from FRIDAY, he quickly identified the most-likely-to-be-helpful candidate—some kind of natural probiotic—and dosed out two pills for the kid.

“Thanks,” Peter muttered before knocking them back with some water. “Ugh. I’m never eating ice cream again,” he moaned.

Tony’s forehead wrinkled up in confusion. “When did you get ice cream?”

Peter gave him a pained smile. “Uh… after training? Clint took me out—he said someone should celebrate the fact that I laid out Cap twice.”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Tony said with a huff. “Which is why I served everyone those vegan eclairs that I special ordered because, you know”—he shot Peter a pointed look—“they don’t have dairy.”

“He, uh, he said someone should celebrate it with a real dessert,” Peter mumbled.

“I’m hurt, Pete,” Tony mocked.

Peter’s gaze dropped to his feet. “If it makes you feel any better, I got Stark Raving Hazelnut.”

“Why would it make me feel better to have my name attached to your gastrointestinal distress?” Tony asked sarcastically.

Peter huffed out a quick laugh. “Sorry.” Suddenly he winced and pressed a hand to his stomach. “Ah. Cramp.”

“It’s alright, kid,” Tony scoffed. “I think you’re being punished enough.”

X

At the next Avengers team dinner, Tony stood in the buffet line behind Peter, watching in horror as the teenager covered his pasta in Alfredo sauce. “What the hell, Peter. I got the marinara one especially for you.”

“I had some of that already and it was great, Mr. Stark!” Peter said earnestly. “It’s just been like, forever since I had actual alfredo sauce.”

Tony blinked at him. “Right...” he said slowly “...That would be because you’re allergic to it.”

“Technically it’s not an allergy,” Peter argued, sprinkling parmesan on top of his Fettuccine Alfredo. “An allergy would require an autoimmune response. We learned that in freshman year bio.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine, intolerance, whatever. You’re still gonna get sick.”

“I’ll be fine if I only have a little bit.”

X

A mere thirty minutes later, Tony was having déjà vu.

“Peter, I swear to God…” he began.

Peter gave him a sheepish grin. “Okay, I know what you’re gonna say, but—”

Tony spread his arms out dramatically. “There is literally half the dessert table here full of things you can eat, and yet you pick the cheesecake? Why?” he demanded.

Peter gave him an incredulous look. “Because it’s cheesecake, Mr. Stark,” he answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Tony scoffed, “Yeah, key word there, cheese.”

Peter gazed longingly at the towering fluffy white dessert balanced on the serving spatula in his hand. “But it’s so good.”

Tony ran an exasperated hand over his face. “Kid, think this through. I’m begging you.”

Peter let out a resigned sigh as he let the piece of cheesecake tip onto his waiting plate. “I have. I’m sorry.”

Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, it’s your funeral. But I don’t wanna hear about it later.”

“You won’t—I promise,” Peter assured. He picked up a fork, and, making eye-contact with Tony the whole time, brought a bite to his lips. “But I gotta do it, Mr. Stark.”

X

A few hours after dinner, Tony spied Peter emerging from the restroom, pale and sweating, arms wrapped around his obviously cramping stomach.

“Uuugh Mr. Staark…” Peter whined upon seeing his mentor. He was making a pouting face, but the tiniest hint of a smile playing at his lips. “My tummy huurrts...”

“I’m sure it does, kid.” With a snort of amusement, Tony held out a bottle of water to the teen, who took it gratefully. “Was it at least worth it?”

Peter thought for a moment as he sipped the water. “Almost,” he finally decided. He hummed to himself. “Now if the cheesecake had had whipped cream on it…”

Tony let out a long sigh. “Why? Why do you do this to yourself?” he implored.

Peter locked eyes with his mentor. “Mr. Stark,” he said solemnly, “some nights you just gotta face God and walk backwards into Hell.”

“NO YOU FUCKING DON’T, PETER!”

X

Tony was just finishing some updates on DUM-E when FRIDAY alerted him to the fact that Thor was urgently approaching the workshop doors. Given he wasn’t a usual visitor, Tony looked up curiously.

“Stark, you must come quickly!” Thor’s voice boomed. “The Falcon and young Man of Spiders seem to have ingested some kind of poison.”

Tony’s heart dropped. “What?” Peter and Sam had been poisoned? “How?” he asked sharply. He dropped his tools on the workbench and immediately hurried toward the door. “What kind of poison?”

“I am not certain,” Thor replied. The two men strode quickly down the corridor. “But it appears only to affect mortal men as I myself have consumed the same beverage and yet I remain unscathed.”

“Did you call in a med team?” Tony demanded.

“A healer?” Thor questioned. “Nay, but Banner had arrived just as I left to seek you.”

Tony instantly breathed out a sigh of relief. Sure, Bruce may not be an actual medical doctor, but his seven PhDs are certainly worth something. “Okay, good. What symptoms are we talking about here? When did this start?”

“It came on about an hour after consuming the beverage. They both appear to be in a fair amount of pain, and their bodies seem to be working to expel the contaminant,” Thor reported. “There is a foul odor about them as well, as though something inside is dying.”

“Jesus…” Tony swore, breaking into a jog for the rest of the way to the common area.

When he arrived, the scene wasn’t quite the picture of imminent peril that Thor had painted for him. On one couch, Sam was laying flat on his back, one arm hugging a pillow to his stomach while the other arm was extended upward so that his forearm rested over his eyes. On the couch next to him, Peter was half sprawled out, half propped up against the cushions so he could sip from a can of Sprite. He looked a little green.

Bruce, looking calm as ever, was lining a small trash can next to Peter with a fresh plastic bag.

“What’s going on here?” Tony demanded, stepping into the room. “Thor tells me they’ve been poisoned.”

Bruce let out a quick snort of laughter. “You could say that. Self-inflicted, but sure.”

“Excuse me?” Tony raised his eyebrows.

“Mr. Staaark…” Peter moaned from the sofa. “Did you know there’s no such thing as a milkshake on Asgard?”

Tony just blinked at him.

“I mean, imagine going your whole life without ever tasting a milkshake,” Peter went on, his tone just bordering on a whine.

“That’s just not right, man,” Sam groaned in agreement.

Tony glanced at the three, large, empty tumblers on the table nearby, their insides coated in what appeared to be milkshake residue. He looked back over his shoulder to the kitchen area and spied a blender sitting out on the counter.

“I can’t believe I’m seeing this,” Tony deadpanned. He shot Sam a glare. “And now you too?” he accused.

“Blame genetics,” Sam grumbled. “Did you know seventy-four percent of African Americans are lactose intolerant?”

“Rhodey isn’t,” Tony quipped back.

“Well hooray for Rhodey then,” Sam muttered irritably into his arm. “Lucky bastard.”

“I do not understand,” Thor spoke up, frowning in confusion. “Have these men been poisoned or not?”

“Yes,” Peter groaned, clutching his stomach.

Tony rolled his eyes at the dramatic kid. “It’s… complicated,” he replied to Thor. “They’ll live, and with any luck, they’ll be deterred from future idiotic behavior for about a week. Or five days if I order pizza on Friday.”

“This was about justice for the Prince of Asgard,” Peter mumbled. “We die like men.”

“Men with tummy aches,” Tony pointed out.

Eyes still covered by his arm, Sam held up his middle finger. “We die like lactose intolerant men,” he amended.

With a hum of agreement, Peter promptly leaned over and vomited into the trash can.

As Bruce moved in to rub Peter’s back while he heaved, and Sam got up to make another trip to the bathroom, Tony threw his hands up in the air and turned on his heels.

“That’s it,” he muttered as he walked out. “I have officially given up.

Read Part 3 of the Lactose Intolerant Peter series

Fic Masterlist

[thatfanficstuff]

The Replacement -Bucky (1)

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: Nightmares

Part 1 of 2

***

"Nice, Y/N," Steven Rogers exclaimed as you finished the round of punches onto the bag he was holding. "Great improvement. I can tell you've been practicing." He beamed like a proud parent and it made you chuckle. 

"Thanks, Cap. Once more?" you asked as you bounced on your feet.

"Absolutely." 

He braced himself and you started punching again. You were new to the team, well, a couple of months new anyway. You'd been recruited because you had the ability to pause time. Briefly. But the skill did you no good if the bad guy killed you before you could use it. So you were training. Steve worked with you on technique pretty much every day. Natasha worked with you on firearms and hand-to-hand. Clint helped. He'd originally tried to teach you archery but you were horrible at it. He vowed to try again when you'd built up your arm strength. Tony and Bruce were helping you hone your powers, trying to make them more effective. Everyone else lent a hand where and when they could. Or, more precisely, where Steve told them to.

You stepped back from the bag and wiped the back of your hand across your forehead.

"That's enough for today, Y/N/N. Great work." 

You nodded and grabbed your bottle of water to take a long swallow. "Thanks," you finally managed to get out as you lowered yourself to the floor by the wall. You needed to rest but you could stretch while you caught your breath. 

Steve sat next to you. "Everyone's really impressed with the progress you're making. I don't think it will be long before you're joining us on missions."

"Really?" The thought both terrified and excited you. But, you knew Steve wouldn't let you go unless he was absolutely certain you were ready. 

Before he could say anything in response, the gym door opened and Bucky walked in. He was wearing black workout gear and had his hair pulled back in a small ponytail. You felt a little tug at your heart as you always did when he was around. You had it bad and you knew it. You also didn't care. The man was gorgeous. It would be a crime not to appreciate it.

You smiled. "Hey, Buck."

He looked over in surprise obviously having missed the two of you sitting on the floor. He gave you a small smile and a little wave. "Hey, Y/N. Steve." He changed direction to come over to the two of you and sat cross legged on the mat in front of you. "Done training?"

You nodded. Bucky was a man of few words, but he said more to you than most of the other Avengers. Except Steve of course. Steve said it was because you were always in good spirits and Bucky needed that in his life. You had no idea if that was true or not, but you did your best to always make him feel comfortable around you. 

"Since you're both here, I should tell you that everyone else is taking off on you later today or in the morning," Steve said. "Bruce is going to some convention. Natasha and Clint have a SHIELD mission and the rest of us are heading to Austria to chase a lead."

"But, Steve..." Bucky started with wide eyes then trailed off. 

Steve gave a smile but the skin around his eyes was tight with worry. "It'll be okay, Buck. Y/N will be here. Communication will be open if you need to contact us. You're all right staying with Y/N, aren't you?"

Bucky's gaze darted between the two of you for a moment before his tongue darted out to moisten his dry lips. "Yeah. We'll be okay."

"Sure we will," you agreed with a bright smile.

***

You woke early, as was your habit. You stepped into your bunny slippers (yes, you had actual bunny slippers) and padded into the hallway. The heavenly aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. You followed your nose to the kitchen to find Bucky sitting at the small bar sipping his coffee. 

He glanced at you as your slippers slapped against the floor. "Plenty for you too, doll."

You ran your hand across his back as you passed behind him. "You are a saint, Barnes."

He snorted and coughed as he choked on his coffee. You patted him on the back until you were certain he was breathing again. "I'm pretty sure no one in my entire history has ever called me a saint before."

Walking over to the counter, you grabbed your favorite mug and filled it, inhaling the rich aroma before taking a careful sip. "Maybe you should make them coffee, Buck. Coffee fixes everything."

"I thought that was bacon?" he said, a teasing tone in his voice. You liked this Bucky. He was far more relaxed than normal. It had to be because everyone else was gone. 

"Mmm. Bacon." After setting your cup down, you wandered over to the fridge and peered inside. Eggs. Bacon. Cheese. What more did you need? You glanced back at him. "You eat yet?"

He shook his head. 

"Bacon it is," you said with a smile as you pulled out everything you needed to make breakfast for the two of you.

***

It had not taken long at all for you and Bucky to decide to take full advantage of the rest of the team being gone. Instead of training, you spent the day introducing Bucky to things he'd missed over the years. As long as it could be done from the comfort of the tower as neither of you felt like getting dressed beyond sweats and tees. 

And since Steve wasn't here to give you his disapproving frown, you ordered all the best junk food and had it delivered. You and Buck had subsequently spent the day sprawled around the theater room having Jarvis stream things and filling up on completely unhealthy snacks. When the pizza you ordered for dinner arrived, you moved to the living room to eat.

"All right, Buck. What do you want to watch now?"

He shrugged and took a bite of his pizza. "You pick, doll."

You grinned as an idea came to you. "Jarvis, play the Philadelphia Story, please."

"Excellent choice, Miss Y/L/N," Jarvis replied.

Bucky turned to you with wide eyes. "Like the Philadelphia Story?"

"Only one I know of," you said. "One of the best movies ever made."

"Have to say I agree with you there, doll." He shifted in excitement and you were glad you'd made the decision to watch something he would be familiar with.

***

You woke from a dream where Carey Grant was kissing Jimmy Stewart with a start. It took you a moment to realize you were still in the living room. You must have fallen asleep watching the movie. The TV was off and the lights were dimmed as you raised your head and glanced around trying to figure out what had wakened you. 

"No. Don't. Stop."

You glanced at the other end of the couch where Bucky had evidently fallen asleep as well. His head tossed and his brow furrowed as he whimpered. The sound tore at your heart. 

"No!" he suddenly yelled and kicked his foot out, hitting you in the leg. 

You hissed. That would bruise for sure. You hurried to shift your position as he continued to thrash and protest against whatever was happening in his dream. Deciding you didn't feel like a face full of metal fist, you wrapped your hands around his wrists and crossed his arms over his chest. 

You laid across the top of him, to keep his arms pinned. He still didn't wake. "Bucky! Wake up!" you called.

Nothing.

"James Buchanan Barnes, wake up!"

A twitch at the full name but otherwise he just thrashed interspersed with the occasional shout. 

How could you get him to wake without risking injury to him or you? Suddenly you got an idea. It was worth a shot. "Buck, it's me, Y/N. Please wake up. I need you."

He gasped as his eyes flew open. His eyes immediately found your face and your gazes locked. He panted beneath you as he struggled to recover from the nightmare and you studied his face to make certain he was okay. 

"Um...doll?" he said after a moment.

"Yeah, Buck?"

"Not that I mind, but why are you laying on me?"

It suddenly dawned on you how intimate this position actually was and you scrambled off him while your face burned in embarrassment. "Sorry. You were having a nightmare. I wanted to make sure neither of us got hurt while I woke you up."

Tension flowed from him and he nodded his head. "Good thinking. Thank you."

"It's not a problem, Bucky. We're friends. We look out for each other."

He sat up. His gaze locked with yours again, but you couldn't hold it long before your face heated again and you turned away. You cleared your throat and held out a hand. "Come on, Buck. We should get to bed."

He didn't say anything as he took your hand so you could help him to his feet and led him down the hall. Your room was first and you paused outside the door. "Night, Buck," you said with a smile in his direction. When you realized he wasn't letting go of your hand you tilted your head and looked at him in question.

He rubbed his metal hand across the back of his neck as he looked at the floor then back up at you. "Would you...I mean..." He huffed out a sigh. "I don't like being alone after I have the dreams. Steve usually stays with me. Would you mind?"

Ordinarily you would hesitate to share a bed with a man you had only known for a couple of months and weren't dating, but this was Bucky. And it was easy to tell his words were sincere. "Of course, Bucky. I don't like being alone in my room when the tower is mostly empty anyway. It's creepy." You didn't actually mind the solitude, but you hoped it might make Bucky feel better if he thought he wasn't the only one that needed someone. "Let me change into my pj's and I'll be in."

One side of his mouth curled up in a smile. "Thanks, doll." He hurried down the hall to his own room as you stepped into yours. 

You dug through the drawer where you kept your pajamas and settled on a pair of shorts with a matching tank. After brushing your hair and teeth, you made your way to Bucky's room, pillow in hand, and tapped on the door. 

The door opened a second later and he gestured for you to enter his room. He shut it behind you. "Hey, Y/N/N. I wasn't thinking earlier. If you want me to sleep on the floor or something..."

You held up a hand to stop him before he could go any further. "I trust you, Bucky."

You tossed back the blankets on the bed and threw your pillow on the opposite side. You crawled in and got settled before patting the empty space beside you. "Come on. I'm tired."

He nodded once and climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets over both of you. "Goodnight, doll. Goodnight Jarvis."

"Goodnight, sir," the AI responded and the lights went off as the click of the lock on the door was heard. You smiled at the fact Bucky's nighttime protocol was the same as yours. 

"Night, Buck." You laid in the dark for a long time, your back turned to Bucky as you stared at the inky wall across from you. It was evident he was trying hard not to move so he didn't disturb you. You bit your lip and gathered your nerve before flipping over. 

His head turned to you in the dark. "You okay? Did I bother you?"

You laughed. "Yes. Your complete lack of movement bothered me."

"Oh, sorry."

"It was a joke, Barnes. I'm going to try something. If it bothers you just say so, okay?"

"Okay?" he said sounding completely unsure.

You slid closer to him and settled against his side with your head on his shoulder. Your hand laid on his chest. You'd always been a cuddler. Bucky remained stiff for a moment longer then relaxed and curled around you. His flesh arm wrapped around you and his hand settled on your hip. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah. This is just fine, doll." It didn't take long for you both to fall into a peaceful sleep.

Tag List:  @evyiione @gabriellewritermua

[are-you-reddie-for-it]

Overboard With You

I recently watched the new Overboard movie and fell in love with it! I have of course, seen the original one. However, I watched it when I was like 14 and I didn’t really remember it. But I thoroughly enjoyed the remake, I myself am Hispanic so it was awesome to see that they involved the Hispanic culture in it while still keeping the story. But thought about Reddie the entire time while watching it so, since they did change the culture and switched the gender roles I felt it appropriate to make an LGBTQ+ version of Overboard, so here is my Overboard!Reddie AU. This fic will be based more roughly on the remake because it’s more modern but will also have some elements of the original one. Also, the only main “OC” characters will be the Kaspbrak children. I wanted to make Eddie’s children some of the Losers but it would’ve made things a little awkward for Stenbrough and Benverly so this was the better solution. Anyway without further ado, enjoy my version of Overboard!Reddie Chapter 1

Breeeep breeeep breeeep breeeep

“Mmm...” a soft groan escaped Eddie Kaspbrak‘s lips

BREEEEP BREEEEP BREEEEP BREEEEP

Eddie’s relaxed face, scrunched as his phone alarm became louder.

BREEEEP BREEEEP BREEEEP BREEEEP

“Ugh” Eddie groaned again “Yeah, yeah I’m up I’m up” he patted around for his phone, turning off the alarm.

Eddie sat up, extending his arms out as he let out a long yawn. He slid out of bed, making his way to the shower. Eddie drowsily slipped his pajamas and undergarments off, turning the shower on.

Lazily slipping into the shower, he yawned once more before realizing the water was freezing “Ah! Ah! Cold cold!” Eddie jumped to the edge of the bathtub escaping the cold water “Cody!” He shouted

“Yeah?” A voice shouted back.

“Why are you up so early?! You don’t have to get up for school for another hour!” Eddie shouted back.

“I really had to pee dad!” Cody shouted again.Eddie sighed and leaned his head against the wall, holding it there until the water returned to its warm state. He then finished his shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair back and slipped on his work uniform.On his way to the stairs, Eddie walked to his eldest son’s room and softly knocked on the door “Cods, time to get up” he said, slowly opening the door.

In the pale blue room slept a fourteen year-old boy with dark brown untamed curly hair like his father’s. He peacefully slept in his bed until his father spoke to him again.

“Cody, time to get up. You’re going to miss the bus if you don’t get up and get ready.” Eddie said again.The young teen slowly turned around in his bed, facing his father and sighed “Okay dad” he said forcing himself out of bed, heading toward the shower. Eddie smiled softly to himself and closed his son’s door walking downstairs.

He walked into his kitchen, looking around his house, observing the clutter of boxes all around the house. Eddie let out a sigh. Nothing had been the same since his wife Myra died. Eddie and his kids had moved into this new house, one? Two weeks ago? No, it was two months ago. Myra died six months ago and Eddie and his kids had moved from their old house in Augusta, Maine to their new house in Derry, Maine only two months ago.

Myra’s death was hard on all of them, but mostly on Eddie. Eddie wasn’t “in love” with Myra per se but she was his best friend. He grew up with Myra and married her because he pitied her. He did love her...as a friend...But never dreamed of telling her that.

Eddie reached into one of the drawers below the counters of the kitchen and pulled out three brown paper bags. He grabbed a black sharpie that rolled back and forth beside the stack of paper bags. On the three bags he wrote the names Cody, Connor, and Charlotte.

He placed them on the counter and capped the black sharpie, tossing it into the drawer as he closed it with his hip. Eddie walked over to a cabinet by the sink, grabbing a loaf of bread. He made his way to the fridge grabbing a jar of jelly, a packaged bag of ham, and two slices of cheese. He placed all of the items down beside the paper bags then opened a cabinet from above, pulling out a bag of chips. He pulled out a few more items from the kitchen cabinets and drawers and began prepping the kids’ lunches.

Half an hour passed by, and Eddie finally heard the stomping of feet upstairs. First his eldest, Cody came down. He dropped his backpack off at the table and made himself a bowl of cereal as he watched a video on his phone.

Next, his other son Connor, slowly walked down the stairs also making himself a bowl of cereal, with the help of his father.

And finally, his one and only daughter, Charlotte made her way down the stairs. She walked up to her dad and hugged his legs with her small arms “Good morning Daddy” she smiled up at him.

Eddie pat her head softly, he then grabbed her by the arms and picked her up, holding her in his own arms “Good morning light of my life” he kissed her forehead “What do you want for breakfast Sweetheart?” He asked her, sitting her on the counter.“Hmmm” The small blonde haired girl, tapped a finger on her chin thinking of what she wanted to eat. “Eggos!” She finally said.

Eddie smiled and kissed her nose, picking her up and placing her on the ground “Okay baby, go sit down and I’ll get those ready for you” Eddie said walking over to the freezer as his seven year-old skipped to the dining table

.Eddie smiled at her, popping two Eggo waffles into the toaster. He then leaned against the kitchen counter looking at his wrist watch then glanced over at Cody.“You have five minutes until you have to leave Mister, I suggest you put your phone away and finish getting ready for school” Eddie said, placing his hand on his hip.“Ughhhh” Cody groaned, shutting his phone off “Can’t you just drive me to school today dad?” He asked.

Eddie shook his head “No Cods, you know I have to go straight to work after I take the twins to school” Eddie replied.The waffles popped out of the toaster and he took them out, placing them on a plate. Eddie then walked over to the fridge, pulling out whipped cream, syrup, and strawberries.“Why don’t you want to ride the bus anyway? You loved riding the bus at the other house” Eddie asked as he poured a decent amount of syrup on the waffles.

Cody sighed “Because I actually had friends then” he commented.“What and you don’t have friends now?” Eddie asked while he pulled out a knife, cutting the ends off of the strawberries.

“No! You know this”

“What about that kid in your math class? ...Kyle right? I thought you were friends with him”

Cody rolled his eyes “Dad, I told you. I was in math and Kyle asked to borrow my pencil.”

Suddenly his phone alarm went off, telling him it was time to leave for the bus stop “Whatever...it’s not like you listen anyway” he mumbled the last part as he grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder walking out of the house.

“Bye Cody! Have a good day at school!” Eddie shouted from the kitchen “I love you”

“I love you too” Cody responded back in a monotone voice as he walked out the front door.

Eddie sighed and placed Charlotte’s plate of Eggos in front of her. He placed kisses on both Charlotte and Connor’s heads as they ate breakfast.

______________________________________

“Carter!” A voice rang through a yacht known as ‘The Wet Dream’ owned by The Richard Tozier, son of the third richest man in the world, Wentworth Tozier.

“Yes Richard?” Richie’s steward immediately responded, quickly walking into the room after hearing his boss’s voice.

Richie slowly sat up from his messy bed “Get someone to clean this fucking mess up” he sleepy said referring to his room. He laid back down in bed, with a girl on each side of him.

Carter sighed “Yes sir” he simply said, walking out of the room.

Richie was a player. Not only that, he was a player with Daddy’s money. But surprisingly enough, Richie had a fiancée. A beautiful woman who possessed the name of Vanessa.

Richie turned in bed to his fiancée and kissed her softly “God damn, even when you wake up you’re hot” Richie laughed then he turned to the other girl laying in the bed with them, kissing her as well.Richie did love Vanessa, but he and Vanessa had more of an open relationship. Which meant Richie was always with other girls. Vanessa didn’t mind though, she always had something else on her mind when she was with Richie.

Vanessa stood up “I’m going. I’ve got to go get ready, I have things to do today” she said, starting to walk out of the room.

Richie quickly sat up “Wait, baby...no please stay...you know I get so bored without you here” he begged her to stay.

Vanessa smiled softly and pushed him back down on the bed “We’ve been over this baby...I’ll see you after I get home from shopping with the girls okay?” She said as sweetly as she could muster “Richie baby, can I have some money please?” Vanessa asked kissing down Richie’s chest.

Richie bit his lip, letting out a moan, completely hypnotized by his fiancée “Of course babe” he said reaching over to grab his wallet, pulling out a couple hundred dollars.

Vanessa smiled and kissed Richie’s cheek “Thank you honey, I’ll see you tonight” she said, walking out of the room.

Richie sighed and grabbed the other girl in his bed, starting to kiss her again before falling back asleep.

______________________________________

Eddie had just left his first job, as a pizza guy, and went to his second job, as a carpet cleaner. He had driven to the Derry Pier. Which to him seemed like a weird place for a house.

It wasn’t until he had gotten to the Pier that he realized he was cleaning the carpet to a boat. Eddie grabbed his cleaning supplies out of his car and walked down the long platform the boats had been next to. The smell of the salty air was almost strong enough to send Eddie into a coughing fit, but he didn’t mind it, he thoroughly enjoyed the scent.

Looking around he found a yacht with the name ‘The Wet Dream’ engraved into the back of the yacht. He rolled his eyes at the name “Disgusting...” he mumbled, pulling out his phone.

The phone rang a few times before anyone answered “Hello?” A voice asked.

“Yes hi, hello um...I’m your carpet cleaner...I’m at the pier...but I’m not entirely sure which boat I’m supposed to be cleaning”

A long sigh came from the other side of the line “The yacht is named ‘The Wet Dream’ “ The voice replied in an embarrassed tone.

Eddie sighed himself “Great...” he said quietly “Thanks”. Eddie hung up the phone and hauled his equipment to the yacht, walking in. There he was greeted by Richie’s steward who lead him to the room that needed to be cleaned.

Eddie walked in, jaw dropped to the floor as he looked at the room “This yacht is incredible...” Eddie said aloud “Too bad it has stupid name...who the hell names a yacht ‘The Wet Dream’ anyway?”

“I’m offended you think my yacht’s name is stupid. You’re telling me you have a better, more clever name for it?” A voice was suddenly heard from behind Eddie.

Eddie froze and quickly turned around, facing a bed as a tall figure sat up.Eddie gulped ‘shit...he’s going to fire me now...’ he thought.

The man grabbed a phone that was sitting on his nightstand and quickly dialed a number. “Carter, I’m ready for my Bloody Mary. Yeah. Oh but um most Mary” he said then hung up the phone.

He stood up from his bed, wearing nothing. And Eddie frantically covered his eyes with his hands as the man approached him.

Eddie glanced at up him, not able to keep himself from glancing down at the stranger’s lower torso. He covered his eyes again.“Do you mind??” Eddie asked in an annoyed tone.

“No, not at all. Go ahead and stare. I’m very comfortable in my body” the man teased then realized the carpet cleaner wasn’t catching on.

The man in front of Eddie sighed and turned around grabbing a towel from his bed.

Eddie finally uncovered his eyes and watched the man walk to grab the towel. And while the man’s back was turned towards Eddie, he noticed a tattoo on the man’s right butt cheek. It was a tattoo of the comedy and tragedy masks for theatre.

The man turned back to Eddie “Well now that I’m more...” He looked down at the towel wrapped around his waist “appropriately dressed...” the man stuck out his hand for Eddie to shake “I’m Richard Tozier”

Eddie took Richie’s hand and shook it “I’m Eddie Kasp-“ Eddie started but was cut off by the stranger.

“Wow...you are really attractive for a carpet cleaning boy” Richie started and Eddie stared blankly at him with confusion.

“Although...” Richie put his index finger to his lips “You could maybe do something about your hair.”

Eddie was offended, his brows furrowed and he was about to comment back before he was cut off yet again.

“No...no wait...that’s not it. It’s your face. I mean..it’s good but...a little mediocre. Especially for my taste” Richie commented.

Eddie’s jaw dropped, boy the things he could say to this man to put him in his place. Granted, Richie was extremely attractive, in Eddie’s opinion, it was perhaps his confidence that made him attractive in Eddie’s eyes. Or maybe the dark brown locks that covered his slim face.

Eddie was about to lash back at Richie’s comment before Richie’s steward walked into the room with Richie’s Bloody Mary.

“My apologies Richard, I thought you were already up” Carter apologized.

Richie turned around “God! Finally, it’s about time!” He said, snatching the drink from his steward. He quickly took a sip “Oh! Before you leave. Have Chef Jacob prepare my breakfast and then fire him”

Eddie’s jaw seemed to drop to the floor at Richie’s behavior. Carter of course wasn’t fazed by this.

“Right, of course. But perhaps we should give him a few weeks’ notice? His wife is after all expecting” Carter tried to reason with Richie.

“But his food is so boring. It tastes like nothing” Richie whined.

Carter sighed “Right away sir...” he said before walking out.

As soon as Carter had left, two girls walked into Richie’s room “Hi Richard” one of the girls smiled, pulling him in for a kiss.

Richie smirked “Hello girls”

“We were wondering if you’d like to join us in the jacuzzi?” One of the girls asked, biting down on her bottom lip.

“Well of course!” Richie smiled “Lead the way girls!” he said.

The girls both grabbed Richie by the arms and started pulling him out of the room. Then Richie peeked his head back into the room before leaving.

“Oh, try to hurry. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna need the room soon” Richie said, winking at Eddie.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself and began cleaning.

______________________________________

Eddie had cleaned most of the rooms in the yacht, there was just one he had yet to clean, which happened to be the lounging area of the boat. He walked up the stairs with his equipment and looked around in awe.

That was until he saw Richie sitting on a lounge chair, tanning in the sun.Eddie rolled his eyes to himself and walked up to Richie “Hey, excuse me. I was told to to clean in here, that’s not going to disturb you is it?” He asked as politely as he could.

Richie lowered his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and looked at the short man standing beside him “No, not at all. Go ahead” he said.

Eddie nodded and turned to walk away when Richie spoke.“Hmmm...I’m craving something...what could it be?” He said to himself.

Eddie turned back to Richie “Uh...are you talking to me...?” He asked.

“It’s sweet but not to sweet” Richie continued “Is it mango? ...Yeah I’m pretty sure it’s mango” Richie bit the end of his thumb.

Eddie, not receiving a response, decided it was now okay to turn back around.“Oh no no. Wait wait. It’s Papaya!” Richie exclaimed. Eddie turned back to Richie as Richie turned to Eddie in his chair “Is it Papaya?” He asked Eddie.

Eddie stared blankly at Richie “I...would have no way of knowing that” he replied.

Richie chuckled “Oh, right. Of course” he facepalmed. “Would you be a doll and get me a little of both?” He asked.

Eddie’s jaw dropped in disbelief “You know I was just hired to clean the carpets right?” He asked.

“Right. But I don’t see why that should prevent you from getting me a snack” Richie replied rudely.

Eddie dropped his basket of cleaning supplies to the ground, “Correct me if I’m wrong but, don’t you have like, 10,000 other people to do that for you?” He snapped back.“Uh yeah, but you’re right here”

“Okay I’m sorry but I really have to finish up. I have to go pick my kids up from school” Eddie said, starting to turn back around

.Richie scoffed again “Come here” he said standing up, calling Eddie over with his index finger.

Eddie sighed and placed the rest of his equipment down, walking up to Richie, “What?” He asked crossing his arms.

“Perhaps you don’t know who I am.” Richie said with a soft smirk.

“Oh I know exactly who you are” Eddie said putting his hands on his hips, ‘You’re an entitled asshole who needs to let me do my job’ He thought.

“Then why don’t I have my fruit?”

Eddie shrugged “Beats me. But I am not getting it”

Richie laughed “Okay fine, you’re fired” he simply stated, turning away from Eddie.

This time Eddie laughed in disbelief “For not getting you a mango?” He asked

“Or a Papaya” Richie added.

Eddie shook his head still laughing,“You know what? That’s fine. Just pay me and I’ll be on my way” he said walking up to Richie.

Richie smirked and crossed his arms “I’m not paying you”

Eddie felt his blood start to boil, “Look, you hired me to do a job. And I did it! You are paying me” Eddie got in the tall man’s face.

Richie shook his head “Nope” he said pulling his phone out yet again “Captain? Yup we are ready to set sail” was all Richie said before hanging up.

Richie then grabbed Eddie by the cheek and pinched it “Goodbye Eddie Spaghetti” he said in a singsongy voice.

Eddie stood there for a moment before laughing hysterically “You...are a terrible person” Eddie started. “A first-class asshole!” Eddie shouted.

Richie scoffed “You’re no charmer yourself!”

“Oh wow that hurt! I bet you haven’t even worked a day in your sad, miserable life! There are people out there suffering in the world, busting their asses off while you sit here all day fucking around, getting drunk with girls! You’re just a rich prick, living off of your daddy’s money!” Eddie continued as the horn to the boat went off.

Eddie’s eyes widened and he ran to the edge of the boat “No wait! Captain! I’m still on board! Don’t leave yet!” He shouted, but no one could hear him.Suddenly, the yacht started drifting away from the platform. “Shit! No wait!” Eddie shouted again.

Richie chuckled crossing his arms in front of his chest, “I guess your best option is to just jump out” he suggested.

Eddie turned to Richie, steam shooting from his ears “No, I am not going anywhere until you or one of your butlers or bimbos has paid me!” Eddie snapped angrily.

“Fine, next stop, New York” Richie said, walking up to Eddie.

“Fine! I’ll be a pain in your ass until we get there” Eddie crossed his arms.

Richie’s hands and facial expression dropped, “Wow...I guess I didn’t think this through...” he put a hand to his head.

“No, you didn’t” Eddie rolled his eyes

“I cannot believe you’re making me do this...” Richie paused.

Eddie looked at him, waiting for the taller male to finish speaking. But, before he knew it, he was being pushed off Richie’s boat, falling straight into the water.

Richie remained on the boat, laughing down as Eddie’s small body hit the water.

Eddie came up for air, swimming frantically, “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?” He shouted. He then came to the realization that his things were still on the boat. “Fuck! My equipment!”

“Oh. Right, right, let me assist you” an evil grin grew on Richie’s lips as he walked over to Eddie’s materials. He grabbed the large vacuum Eddie had been hauling all around the yacht with him. He easily picked it up, aiming it towards the water.

Eddie’s eyes widened “NO NO NO! THAT’S EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE!!!” Eddie shouted.

Richie just laughed before chucking the vacuum into the water, barely missing Eddie.“Oh no, I forgot something” Richie said, quickly running back to where the vacuum had been “Your bucket! Fetch boy!” Richie said, throwing the bucket into the water as well.

Eddie quickly tried grabbing at all his supplies as he struggled to swim. Meanwhile, Richie, still on the boat, laughed aloud “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you!” He shouted and waved as the boat floated off into the distance.

“You fucking asshole! I hate you!” Eddie shouted. Then he sighed trying to calm down as he grabbed at everything he could, swimming back to shore.

[ambrosiaswhispers]

Snowed-In Like A Hallmark Movie

AU - the characters in an another world. I think Karen and Frank sound solid, but I'm not so sure about Jessica and Trish. Just a fun holiday piece. Nothing serious at all.

So stop me if you heard this one before... two people, who aren't big on Christmas rent a cabin in the mountains to get out of the city, but the cabin's been double booked with two people looking to enjoy the holiday. Fluffy-silly Hallmark level of the snowed-in troupe. AO3 Link: Here

Snowed-In Like A Hallmark Movie

The truck lurched as the right side tires dropped into a pothole and Jessica’s head slammed against the glass. “Geeze Castle, are you trying to give me a freaking concussion?”

Frank shook his head, “Didn’t even realize you were sleepin’, Jones. Might as well stay awake we’ll be at this place in about five minutes.”

“Finally; even with the drive, I think this is the best plan you’ve had in a long time.” She squinted as she looked out the window. “How much snow did they get up here?”

“About two feet or so and we’re supposed to get another two before tomorrow night. So once we get to this cabin we’re gonna be stuck there for a few days.”

“Music to my ears. If we can’t get out then no one can get in. It’ll be nice not to have to deal with all the holiday horseshit.” Jessica stretched in her seat. “As long as you brought the booze that’s all I need.”

“I got your back, Jones, don’t sweat it.” He corrected the truck as it fishtailed slightly. “No one going in or out in this shit-storm.”

“Is there any cell service up here?” She snagged her coffee cup and sipped from it, the bitter black liquid warming her a bit.

He chuckled, “Guy who owns it said as long as there’s power there’s decent wifi. So you’ll be able to chat with your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Jessica growled, “I just play that damn word game with her that Micro’s wife got us all playing. And what the hell does it matter? She just started the damn chat thing with me first, because of the stupid name I picked.”

“You could have let the app pick you a name.”

“It did and it was, Hero6934, no thank you. I just typed WhiskeyOverWine and it was completely random she started playing with me. And she started chatting with me, not the other way around.”

“But you’ve been chattin’ her up for three months. You being social voluntarily… that says something.” He sipped from his own coffee cup.

“Says that you’re too damn nosey. Stay out of it.”

“Alright, alright, easy does it.” He shoved her shoulder. “You do you, Jones, just trying to help you get some Christmas cheer.”

“The only cheer I need is in liquid form and you’re one to talk; you’re celibate as a monk.”

He grunted and corrected the truck again.

“Thought that would shut you up.” She lifted her coffee cup, “Here’s to a quiet no BS Christmas.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

.:.

“Oh my god those smell amazing. How did you have time to make cookie batter and get them in the oven in the forty minutes I was in the tub?” Trish walker was toweling her hair as she walked into the cabin’s kitchen, where Karen Page was pulling a cookie sheet from the oven.

The other blond laughed, “I didn’t; Rosie from accounting found out that I was going on this trip and made me cookie dough for my secret Santa gift. It was in the cooler. How’s the tub?”

“A gift from God.” Trish pulled the open bottle of wine from the fridge and motioned to Karen’s glass, “You want me to top you off?”

“Please.” Karen smiled and looked at the living room, “You think the tree’s too much?”

“No! This is exactly the Christmas I’ve wanted since I was a little girl: a big tree that I got to decorate myself, all the snow outside, the music, and a good friend to watch cheesy holiday movies with.” Trish beamed at her friend, “I still can’t believe Ellison let you off the hook.”

“I kept bringing him stories about how the holidays are nothing but profiteering markers for big corporations. After the fifth one, I got the, ‘Karen, I’ll give you this holiday off if when you come back your off your moral high horse’ speech.” She laughed as Trish’s phone chirped out and she picked it up.

“Can I see it?” Trish held out her hand.

Karen unlocked the screen, “We agreed that I have your phone and you have mine so we actually enjoy this weekend. I just need to make sure it isn’t…” Karen snickered as she teased, “It’s your Words-With-Friends friend.”

“Give it over.” Trish dashed around the kitchen island and snagged the phone away from Karen. “Looks like she had the same holiday plans we did, spending the weekend in a cabin with her friend to get out of the city.”

Karen sipped from her wine glass, “You should have invited her. I could have stayed in the city; this could have been your own little cheesy holiday movie.”

“Stop. You’re absolutely ridiculous. I don’t even really know her or if she’d be interested in me or if I’d be interested in her if we were face to face.” Trish bit her lip as she looked at her phone playing her word and typed a message to the other player.

Karen bumped her with her hip, “Lip bite.”

“Huh?”

“You bite your lip like that when you’re interested in someone and you do it every time you answer her.” Karen teased, “I couldn’t write a twist of fate better. You hit pick a random opponent and get the reverse name of your WineOverWhiskey name and then she’s sarcastic as hell when you chatted her up. It’s like a classic cheesy holiday movie… Oh like You’ve Got Mail!”

“We’re so not watching that one.” Trish handed her phone back to Karen, “I don’t know what your thing is with Meg Ryan.”

“She’s my girl-crush. Everyone has one. Yours just happens to have an unknown face.” Karen opened the fridge, “I don’t feel like cooking past finish up those gingerbread cookies. You want to crackers and cheese it tonight?”

“Yes. As long as there’s more wine.”

“I brought ten bottles of wine and fifth of whiskey in case we want to get crazy. I’m planning on being, at minimum, moderately buzzed most of this weekend.” Karen shooed Trish away from the kitchen, “Pick a movie. I’ll get it around while I finish the cookies.”

Trish ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass, “She might not even like women like that. Like… I mean… you know what I mean.”

“Maybe you should ask.” Karen set the cheese on the cutting board and started looking for a knife. “What could hurt to ask? Then you’d know at least, or is that what you’re afraid of? Her being interested.” She accepted the knife that Trish found in one of the drawers.

“It would just be complicated.” Trish took a long gulp of her wine, “If she was interested and if something started I’m in the spotlight for something that I don’t feel like I am. I can read the headlines now: former child-star now a lesbian. I don’t want to be the representation of something I’m not.”

“What do you consider yourself?” Karen started looking for a plate to put the food on.

Trish opened the crackers, “I’ve had good, meaningful relationships with men, so I guess…I mean I’m attracted to the connection that I feel to her not her gender. I feel more bisexual then anything and…” She sighed and finished off her glass of wine, purposefully ignoring Karen’s smirk. “There’s not a lot of media personalities that are openly bisexual, which means I’d be a representative for a group of people and I don’t think I’m good…”

Karen hugged Trish suddenly, cutting off her potentially self-destructive rant, “I think a successful child-actress turned self-made radio personality in New York is a great personality for people to look up to. The only person you really have to worry about is your mother.”

“Don’t remind me.” Trish groaned, before hugging her friend back. “Thank you, Karen, really.”

“No problem. Now go pick a movie, I put in my Netflix login while you were soaking.”

Trish refilled her wine glass and grabbed the remote, noting the last show in the queue with a snort.

“What now?” Karen opened the box of crackers. “I’m sorry it’s not all national geographic docs and rom-coms.”

“Oh it’s not that, it’s the fact that Sense8 is the last thing you watched, again.”

Karen rinsed off the knife before putting in the sink, “I like Wolfgang.”

“You and your murder-cupcakes.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve got a type, Karen, and it’s dark and dangerous with that heart of gold.”

“Listen…” Karen trailed off as lights flashed in the driveway.

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s here.”

.:.

“No I don’t want a fucking refund. I want to be the only person in this cabin that I paid for in advance! You double booked it, ‘cause the Barbie twins batted their eyelashes and it’s bullshit.” Jessica was snarling into the phone as Frank winced, glancing back at the unimpressed blonds.

He cleared his throat, “Sorry, she doesn’t really deal with…with um…”

“Human error? A simple mistake? Because we paid in advance for this cabin as well and over the phone, so the eyelashes were not a factor.” Karen folded her arms over her chest.

Frank chuckled and ignored the look Jones shot him as she stomped out onto the porch, slamming the door behind her. “Sorry, we’re getting off on the wrong foot here. She’s Jessica Jones and I’m Frank Castle.”

The other blond offered her hand first, “I’m Trish Walker and this is Karen Page. We really had no idea that you and your girlfriend…”

“Whoa, No. Jones and I are partners. We work at a security firm together.” He corrected quickly.

“Security firm?” Karen questioned.

“Yes, Ma’am. Anvil Security based out of Manhattan.” He pulled the stocking cap off his head. “I think I can talk her into leaving, but the road up here was rough. Anyway, I could trouble you for a cup of coffee.”

“I can start a pot.” Trish offered, making her way into the kitchen.

“Appreciate it.” He nodded to Trish.

Karen shook her head, “Why don’t you relax for a bit? Warm up at least while it’s brewing.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” He stomped off his boots before unlacing them.

“What branch?”

“Hmm?”

“What branch of the military did you serve in? You’re ‘Ma’am’ is too second nature and you don’t sound southern, so you’ve got to be ex-military.” She was glad she sounded casual because the black t-shirt he was wearing was practically painted on him.

“Guilty as charged. I was in the Marines, but I guess I should have known better then try to get something by the woman who wrote ‘Everyday Heroes’.” He hung up his coat on one of the free hooks on the wall.

Karen felt herself blush; damn-it she was not a high schooler; she was grown adult woman with an apartment in New York and a regular column in a successful paper. “You’ve read my work?”

“Loyal subscriber to The Bulletin, Miss Page.” He had this half-smile and she was sure that if he’d been wearing a ball cap he would have tipped it at her.

Maybe she did have a thing for manners? Karen offered her hand to him. “Karen’s fine.”

“Karen then.” He shook her hand back and hers felt embarrassingly small, cool, and dainty in comparison to the heat and calluses of his larger one. “Jones, is gonna be damned embarrassed when she gets back in here and figures out who you are, Miss Walker.” He craned his neck to catch Trish’s eye.

“Oh, Trish is fine, Frank. But why would she be embarrassed?” Trish arched her eyebrow.

“Outburst aside. She’s quite a fan of your Trish Talk show. We listen to it every day, she’s very insistent about it.” He sniffed the air and glanced around the open room. “Sorry about interrupting your Christmas together.”

“Oh, we’re just ducking all our media personality responsibilities together. Karen and I have been best friends since college.” Trish volunteered quickly as Karen shot her a look at that would have sent comic book villains running for the hills.

“Could you excuse us, Frank?” Karen grabbed Trish’s arm and dragged her into the hallway. “What are you doing?!?” She hissed at her friend.

“I wasn’t doing anything.” Trish smirked and failed miserably to feign innocence. “Oh come on he’s so your type: dark, dangerous, and military manners. You practically drooled when he called you Miss Page.”

“I did not.” Karen snipped back.

Trish rolled her eyes, “Let’s just be friendly. They aren’t gonna be here long. But for god-sakes get his number.”

“Cause he strikes me as such a phone guy.”

“I bet he could give good phone with that low gravel he’s got.” Trish quickstepped her way back into the kitchen with Karen hot on her heels. “So Frank, how about a drink before that coffee?” Trish asked as Jessica let herself back into the cabin, “You strike me as a whiskey over wine kinda guy.”

Jessica’s eyes widened and Frank shot his partner a look before he answered Trish, “Much as it would be appreciated. Best not since we’re gonna be driving back I have a feeling.”

“We’re not going anywhere.” Jessica was still eying Trish cautiously as she explained. “He’s refunding both of us, but we’re not going anywhere. The storm closed the road. We’re here until Monday, at least.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, “So I guess we’re…” She looked around the cabin, “I just need somewhere to lay down.”

“Jones.” Frank clipped.

“What? I’m freaking tired and the whole point of this weekend was to rest. I just want a bottle of my whiskey and a bed.” Jessica rubbed her temples.

“Well, there are three bedrooms. Trish and I can share and you two can have the other two.” Karen volunteered.

“Sure.” “No.” Jessica and Frank responded respectively. Frank seemed to recover quicker, “I’m not putting either of you ladies out of a bed. I can sleep out here on the couch, no trouble.”

Karen was going to protest, but Jessica cut her off, “Good plan; I’m gonna grab my stuff. I’m assuming one of the rooms is empty.” She marched out the door.

“I’ll go help her. Sorry, I think I woke her up from her nap too soon.” He smirked at Karen who let out a little laugh as he slipped on his boots and coat to help his friend.

“Maybe he could bunk with you.” Trish bumped Karen with her hip.

“You need to get yourself laid and stop worrying about me.” Karen huffed.

.:.

Frank walked around the back of the truck and caught Jessica’s arm, “Can you cool down some?”

She took a swig from a bottle of whiskey and sighed, “Yeah. It’s like Martha Stewart’s living room in there. I just wanted to get away from all the artificial holiday cheer shit.”

“For what it’s worth, I think those two actually have the Christmas spirit.”

“Spirits is more like it. I saw two empty bottles of wine.”

He snatched the fifth from her and took a swig, “Then they should be your kind of company, even if they are wine over whiskey kinda girls.”

“Caught that huh?” Jessica made a face.

“I did. Coincidence?” He offered.

She pulled her bag out of the back of the truck and yanked the cooler to the edge of the tailgate. “This ain’t Hallmark, Castle. That whole meeting-by-fate shit doesn’t happen.”

Frank shouldered his bag and helped her with the cooler. “Let’s throw this on the back porch. That’ll keep the alcohol cold enough and I’ll get the food inside while you take a nap.”

“Shut-it.” They stumbled in the deepening snow, “You know that Karen’s kinda cute.”

He stopped dead in his tracks so suddenly that it jerked Jessica back towards him since they were at either end of the cooler. “There a point to that statement?”

“She’s your type.”

“Oh is she now? You know my type.”

“I do.” Jessica cocked her eyebrow at him, “Doe-eyes, take no shit, and legs for days, hell if she’s pro-gun, I’ll bet you an even hundred you don’t sleep on the couch alone.”

He grunted, “I shoulda told them you were my girlfriend.”

Jessica laughed out loud, “You couldn’t handle me in the sack, Castle.”

“Keep it moving, Jones. You need to finish your damn nap so you can act civil.”

“You need to get laid, man.” She barked out a laugh as she started walking again.

.:.

Karen was sitting on the couch with Frank, since Trish had decided, very vocally, that she wanted the recliner. She was going to kill her friend for this later. Jessica had retreated upstairs with a bottle of whiskey and her bag over her shoulder stating that a shower, half of that bottle, and a nap were her plans for the night. The snow was still coming down heavy, in fact, Frank had gone out and shoveled the patio earlier and brought in firewood, but his footprints were hardly visible now. “The Holiday” was just finishing up and if the romantic comedy bothered Frank he didn’t say anything, but he had started a pot of chili on the stove and Karen felt her stomach growl as the smell of it filled the air. She should have slowed down on the wine, she was buzzed and wine always wound her up. Trish’s phone went off in her pocket and she pulled it out, glancing at it before tossing it to her friend.

Frank said nothing, but shot Karen a questioning look, “I have her phone and she has mine, it’s so we don’t work over this weekend.”

“But she gets it back…” Frank started to stay something, but Trish leaped up from the recliner and raced up the stairs without a word to either of the pair sitting on the couch. “Did I miss something?”

Karen was still looking behind the couch, “I have no idea. It was just an alert from this word game she’s been playing. She’s been chatting with this other player…”

“Whiskey over wine.” Frank offered.

Karen turned back to Frank sharply, “How did you know that?”

He let out a real laugh, a genuine one, and it made Karen smile. He had a good laugh. “That’s Jessica’s screen name.”

Karen slapped her hands over her mouth. “You’re kidding me!”

“Nope. Been telling her to try and meet up with that girl for weeks.” He pushed off the couch and went to check the chili.

Karen scrambled up behind him. “So Jessica is…” She motioned with her hands, it felt so inappropriate to question someone’s sexuality without them being present.

“Never really asked, but I know that she actually smiles when she’s chatting with your friend and she doesn’t do that too often.” Frank stirred the chili and tasted it, before offering the spoon to Karen, “Whatcha think?”

It was beyond good, Karen nodded to him. “It’s great. Did you learn to cook when you were in the service?”

“I was married once before.” He opened the cupboard and pulled down a pair of bowls.

“It didn’t work out?” Karen watched him dish out the chili, handing her a bowl and glancing around for utensils, “Drawer to the left of the sink.”

“Thank you.” He was quiet. He handed her a spoon wordlessly and took a bite of his own chili before admitting softly, “Lost her and the rest of my family to a drunk driver a few years ago.”

“Oh Frank, I’m so sorry.” Before she could stop herself she covered his hand with hers.

He shrugged, “It is what it is. I miss them every day, but can’t quit living not how life works. Sorry, an awful somber thing to bring up around this time of year.”

“I’m a good listener.” She offered.

“Bet you are.” He grabbed a beer out of the fridge.

“Can I have one of those?” She requested.

Frank pulled out a second bottle and popped the caps off, before handing her one, “Not a wine girl either?”

“It’ll do in a pinch.” She smiled taking a drink. “Truth be told Trish likes wine more than I do, but fewer bottles to pack if we stuck with wine.”

“I can drink to that.” He clinked his bottle to hers and they settled into a comfortable silence as they ate their chili. “Wonder how they’re getting along up there.”

Karen nearly snorted out the drink of beer she’d just taken. “You’re terrible.”

He shrugged, “Been accused of that a time or two. Let’s find another movie to torture me with.”

“You should pick the next one, less torture for you that way.”

“Fair enough. I’ll go outside, grab a couple more logs for the fire. You wanna grab us another pair of beers for after we finish these?” He shouldered his coat on and slipped back into his boots.

“Okay.” Karen popped the caps off the pair of beers and sat down on the couch scrolling through the holiday movie selections. She was just thinking Frank had been gone too long when the back door opened again. “I was starting to think you froze… holy shit! Frank?”

“It’s nothing; log slipped and hit me in the head, just a little blood.” He set the logs by the fireplace and slumped down on the couch.

“There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom, hang on.” Karen retrieved it and sat on the couch next to Frank, turning his chin so they were facing each other.

“It’s fi..”

“Just let me help.” Karen hushed him, wiping the alcohol pad over the cut and Frank winced. “Why is it that all the tough guys don’t mind the pain of injury, but whine about the treatment?”

His dark brown eyes were fixed on her as she worked. “It’s the adrenalin. Don’t feel it until after.” He smirked up at her. “That and we like the sympathy from a pretty girl.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Not if it’s not working.” He traced the side of her face with his finger, “I’m a bit out of practice.”

“I think you’re doing fine. The blood was a little extreme, I think being snowed in, in a cabin was enough.” She shifted and set the used cleaning pad on top of the first aid kit. She let Frank frame the side of her face with his hand and turn her back to face him. She was too buzzed for this, but she couldn't bring herself to care. There was something about the nervousness of his flirtation that made it even more irresistible.

“All part of the master plan, Miss Page.” He pulled her to him but paused for a moment waiting for her nod, before he claimed her mouth.

Claimed was an understatement. He tasted like chili and beer and heat…How does someone taste like heat? He cupped the back of her head deepened their kiss as she gripped at his forearms. She pulled herself over his lap and moaned into his mouth, he was already hard under her. His hands were strong, even if they were shaking a bit as he slipped them under her top, growling as he found her bare flesh.

“How are you so damn soft? We should…I mean I should…” He stuttered as his mouth found her neck and his free hand massaged down the line of her spine.

“My bedroom’s on the other side of the living room.”  She breathed out into his hair. She barely finished her sentence when he stood up with her like she weighed nothing. She tightened her legs around his middle and moaned as he bumped her back into the door.

“Sorry.” He apologized.

“I’m good. Just don’t stop.” She pleaded as he fumbled the door opened and slammed it closed behind them.

.:.

Jessica was on her back in the very soft bed, hair braided, but still wet from her shower. She took a long draw from her bottle of whiskey. Content to let Frank entertain the other two downstairs, especially since she’d made an asshole of herself in front of something she actually respected. Trish Walker was prettier in person then she was in her pictures and it made Jessica’s hands twitch. She wasn’t this girl, she didn’t pine, ever. If she wanted to get laid, she went and found someone, scratched that itch and moved on, she didn’t ache for tall blonds with sparkling eyes and joyful laughs.

She groaned and picked up her phone, noticing that her favorite player and taken her turn. The embedded chat message:

WineOverWhiskey: I think you’re gonna have to concede this one. I’ve got it in the bag. If I’m slow to respond, I actually did go away for the weekend with my friend and the receptions not the greatest.

WhiskeyOverWine: I’m in the same boat. That cabin I rented with my partner from work is in the middle of a blizzard and just my luck it’s double booked with a pair of blonds who are all holiday happy like you. Craziest thing one of them is Trish from Trish Talk.

She played her word, but this game was a lost cause there was no way that she was gonna pull off a comeback from this deficit. She closed her eyes and had just started to relax when her door went flying open.

“You ever heard of knocking?” Jessica threw a blanket over her bare legs since she was just in a t-shirt and underwear.

“Is this you?” Trish’s eyes were wild as she held her own phone to Jessica’s face.

Jessica blinked focusing on the screen, “Is what m…holy shit!” She was staring the text she’d just sent. Her dark eyes darted from the screen the blond, who was clearly as surprised as she was.

“You didn’t know this was me?”

Jessica put her hands on her hips, “How could I possibly know that was you?!? And for the record I don’t even know you, we just met. Could you turn around so I could put on some damn pants?”

“Right sorry.” Trish turned her back to the other woman and listened to Jessica rustle through her bag. “You know we’ve been talking for months.”

“Texts are just texts. Anyone can make stuff up on the internet.” She grumbled.

Trish pocketed her phone and fidgeted with her hands. “I wasn’t making any of that stuff up. Were you?”

“No. I’m not really a make shit up kinda person. What you see, er read I guess; is what you get.” Jessica zipped her jeans and flopped back on the bed. “You’re good.”

“Sorry about barging in. The situation just took me off guard; it’s kinda unbelievable when you think about it. What are the odds?” Trish turned around and looked around the comfortable little room. “Us both ending up here at the same time.”

Jessica shifted her legs on the bed, “You can sit if you want.” She took a long swig from her whiskey suddenly feeling like she needed it.

“Thanks. So you run away from the holiday and get stuck with me, who is all happy about it.” Trish sat down on the foot of the bed and picked absent-mindedly at the quilt on the bed.

“You’re not so bad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but if you start singing carols I’m gonna walk out on the porch and voluntarily freeze to death.” Jessica snorted.

Trish arched her eyebrow, “You don’t strike me as the suicidal type.”

Jessica chuckled, “I’m not, but don’t ask my liver, it’ll tell you a different story. This the one I was telling you about, the one that’s got honey in it.” She offered the bottle to Trish. “If you don’t mind my germs.”

“I don’t.” Trish uncorked the bottle and took a drink coughing slightly. “That’s strong.”

“It’s decent.”

“Remind me to have Karen write your eulogy when your liver calls it quits.” Trish chuckled.

Jessica took another drink from the bottle, “You know all of my secrets.”

“Oh do I?” The blond wondered aloud.

“All the ones that matter.” Jessica glanced up and found Trish staring at her it made her warm all over and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. So she started to ramble and she didn’t normally ramble, but it was just… “I mean I don’t talk a lot, don’t really have a lot to say normally, and I’m not a feelings person. That touchy-feely crap is a bunch of bullshit, not that I don’t feel anything and I enjoyed chatting with you. I don’t normally connect with people and it’s weird to say we have a connection because we’ve never been in the same room until a few hours ago. I just don’t want you to feel like you need…”

Trish was suddenly in her space pressing her lips to hers, soft and chase, just enough to stop her runaway mouth. “I like you too.”

Jessica huffed, but she kissed her back but wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands until Trish tangled her hands in Jessica’s dark hair and deepened the kiss. It was different kissing her, the other woman was soft, but she had a faint bite from whiskey on her tongue. Despite the oddity and suddenness of all of this, it felt good, it felt like this was how it was supposed to be. Oh god, she was turning into a sap from a couple of kisses; fuck her sideways.

There was a bang and both women jumped. Jessica snickered, “That’s Castle; him and your friend must be getting along.”

Trish felt her cheeks get hot, “Really?”

“Educated guess that he’s a wall guy.” Jessica rolled her eyes.

“What about you? What kind of gal are you?” Trish bit down on her lip.

“I mean you’ve already got me in bed.”

.:.

“How is it that I’m the only one who knows how to cook out of the four of us?” Frank questioned as he fried the eggs in the pan.

Jessica snorted from the couch where she was sitting with Trish leaning against her, “Trying to imply it’s woman’s work?”

“No Jones, I’m saying that by the law of averages more than one of us should know how to cook.” He smiled at Karen, who was perched on the kitchen island clutching a coffee cup. She held it out to him and he took a sip before handing it back. “How do you survive on a daily basis?”

“Takeout.” Came the answer from the three women.

He shook his head and went back to what he was doing. He glanced up at Jones who was absent-mindedly running her finger down Trish’s arm as the two watched the sappy holiday movie.

“What are you thinking?” Karen questioned drawing his attention back to her.

He clicked off the stove and moved into her space, a smile on his face as he stole a kiss from her. “Merry Christmas, Miss Page.”

She rolled her eyes but kissed him back. “Merry Christmas, Frank.”

“No sex in the kitchen, I’m gonna eat in there later,” Jessica warned.

“Jess!”

[meatismurderbutalsodelicious]

How to Stock Your Pantry for the Semi-Apocalypse*

It’s been a rough couple of weeks for many of my friends in the United States, what with the pestilence, the lack of leadership, the hoarding in the supermarkets, and it’s not even the post-Apocalyptic dystopian future we were promised.

However, what’s been slowly creeping into my Facebook feed of late are the first hints of food boredom.

Even those who can afford to order in their favorite Chinese or Mexican, those menus are getting a bit long in the tooth. What once was an “every couple of weeks” guilty pleasure of General Tsao’s chicken, “special” fried rice and a bottle of your favorite twist-off cap Shiraz has lost its charm.

Anyone who follows my Instagram account knows that nothing comes between me, food and cocktails. I’m the guy who when answering the questionnaire at a new doctor’s office warily counters the “how many alcoholic drinks do you have a week” inquiry with a defensive, “Why do you need to know?”

“I hear you like to cook?” I’m often asked when being introduced to new friends and colleagues and my go-to answer is, “Yes, but I prefer to eat.”

And that’s why I cook. I wish I could say I find cooking to be this relaxing past-time, where I spend anywhere from 15-minutes to several hours whipping up a quick pasta sauce or creating a complex Indian curry, listening to Adelle or Carly Simon—a glass of Muscadet in hand. But, no. Cooking, for me, is an ordeal and a means to an end.

Homemade beef pho broth.

But that’s doesn’t mean it can’t be somewhat enjoyable; your food doesn’t have to be predictable or monotonous. And, if you’re going to be confined to your home for three to four weeks, this is where you have to improvise, to grab the whisk by the handle and make the magic happen.

The Basics

First, if you’re entering week three of isolation and it’s time to hit the markets, let’s think smart and make sure your fridge and pantry are stocked with the vitals. If you have food allergies or adopted a lifestyle that has dietary restrictions, please, swap out as needed.

Some of you have been furloughed or lost your jobs, so this is a reasonably priced list offering staples that will last a long time and give days, if not weeks, and in some cases, months of value. Buy what you feel is necessary. As Stephen Casuto, host and creator of one of my favorite cooking shows, Not Another Cooking Show, says, “You, do you.”

“Table salt is disgusting and should only be used for rubbing into the wounds of your enemies.”

The Carbs:

Pasta — enough for at least six meals for two people with leftovers, or three meals for four people (spaghetti/linguini and some kind of tube or macaroni—rotini, fusilli. etc.)

Rice — My old standby is Jasmine rice. Prepared properly it can be used in all kinds of dishes—plain, Mexican, Spanish, Asian, Indian, Italian.

The Vegetables:

Potatoes—Technically, a carb, but, hey. Both waxy (Yuko Golds, Red Bliss or similar) and floury (Idaho, Russet or similar). Keep in a cool, dry drawer, these can last for weeks if stored properly.

Preparing the base for a Pasta Fagioli soup.

Carrots—Large ones with their greens preferred, but if the hoarders have bought all those, then freakish manicured baby carrots.

Tomatoes—firm, preferably on the vine and not quite ripe yet. Only get about four to six so you will use them and they won’t rot and go to waste. Great for sandwiches, avocado toast, chopped into an omelet.

Onions—Yellow and Red (Yellow for most of the sauteeing and cooking you’re going to do, and red for fresh salads, sandwiches, and salsas)

Garlic—Two to three decent-sized bulbs, stored with the onions and potatoes. (Remember: Warm and humid makes your garlic and onions grow into stinky house plants.)

The easy and delicious weekday sauce.

Peppers—Depending on what you love or what you can tolerate, get at least two bell peppers or Italian green peppers, maybe a handful of hot red birdseye chillis, or some habaneros. These will add color and sparkle to everything from a salad to some scrambled eggs.

Celery—I’m of two minds when it comes to celery. First, it’s a vital part of mirepoix, that magical combination of onions, carrots, and celery that’s the basis of most Western soups and stews. But, unless you’re on a rabbit diet, people tend to buy it, use less than half a bunch in one minestrone soup then end up chucking the rest away. But, hey, you’re the cook.

Herbs—Get the dried kind out of desperation: bay leaves, oregano, thyme, rosemary. But, always get fresh parsley and basil.

Dried Goods:

Flour—White, all-purpose flour and Cornmeal (making cornbread for breakfast is a simple warm treat. Everyone should be able to cook this from scratch).

Thickeners—Corn starch, potato starch; I recently discovered xanthan gum and if you’re one of those folks taken by “molecular gastronomy” or food as a science project, this is one of the weirder thickening agents on the market.

Cornbread can be made in less than an hour.

Leavening Agents—Baking soda and baking powder. (Unless you’ve decided you really love baking artisanal bread, you really don’t need yeast).

Salt—Preferably sea salt, or kosher salt. Remember different salts have different salinities, so a “pinch” of pink Himalayan salt is less salty than a similar size “pinch” of Morton’s Table Salt, which, by the way, is disgusting and should only be used for rubbing into the wounds of your enemies. So, get a salt that fits your budget, your health needs, and your personal flavor profile. I prefer sea salts, they have a richness I like and I feel I can control seasoning better.

Pepper—Black peppercorns, of course, but nothing beats having a box or container of white pepper. It’s got a completely different flavor profile than black pepper and adds a wonderful heat to everything from mashed potatoes to cream soups.

Eggs and Dairy

Milk—If you’re lactose intolerant or vegan/vegetarian you can substitute soy milk or your favorite substitute here, but not almond milk because that shit is a ripoff and is killing the planet.

Cream—You will want this for mashed potatoes and to thicken some sauces.

Butter—Always buy Kerrygold Irish Butter, salted and unsalted. It’s the best butter out there. Fight me.

Making a chicken curry from scratch

Plain Yogurt—I prefer Greek yogurt myself. It’s handy to have around and a great way to add richness to a baked item if you only have low-fat milk or to make a quick fresh fruit breakfast.

Cheese—If you must, get a bag of shredded cheddar and a bag of “parmesan”. Cheeses are personal taste, I love fatty, creamy, stinky cheeses, but, honestly, they don’t last long and they are an extravagance for many people at this time. So, get what you like, but make sure you at least have a nice chunk of quality cheddar or similar cheese around.

Eggs—A dozen, big ones. Free-range if you feel guilty.

This Singapore-style laksa is easy and quick.

A Bit of the Sweet

Sugar—Processed sugar is evil. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, always have some handy. It’s great to throw a tablespoon into a tomato-based sauce to offset the acidity. And there is nothing like a lovely stack of homemade pancakes covered in melted butter, a sprinkling of sugar and a squeeze of fresh lemon juice.

Brown Sugar—Less sweet, a little smokey and great for Asian broths that ask for processed sugar. And, it’s “good” for you because, you know, it’s not processed.

Maple Syrup—For pancakes and French Toast.

Condiments:

Ketchup—Whatever you like. Though raised on American Heinz ketchup, I prefer the British brands that tend to use a little more vinegar, but that is an acquired taste.

Mayonaise—The magical base for so many different dressings and sauces. Yes, I will sit down with a plate of french fries or steak-cut chips and a cup of mayo and just go to town on that. Also, dipping cold, boiled chicken that’s torn into strips and wrapped in chilled, crisp iceberg lettuce into mayo while drinking a dry white wine on a hot summer’s day is one of God’s little miracles.

Fried halloumi cheese on a run of the mill avocado toast makes it better.

Mustard—Go ahead, buy French’s American Mustard in a squeeze jar. I don’t judge. But, please get some good Dijon Mustard, and some English Mustard, wet or the powder, is really handy to have for extra punch.

Vinegar—Plain old white vinegar if you're on a budget, but red wine, is also good. Italian balsamic if you want to live large, but I find a bottle of Japanese rice wine vinegar is the perfect all-rounder.

Hot sauce—Tobasco and Siraccha are my go-to faves, but you know what you like.

Olive Oil—Get Extra-Virgin and plain. the EVOO is great for both cooking and for finishing dishes and for cold dressings and sauces. Plain olive oil is great for adding flavor to simple fried sauces and dishes.

Vegetable Oil—A good neutral oil is Canola. It won’t kill you.

Prepared Foods

Canned Goods—at least one can of each: chickpeas, black beans, and kidney beans. Also, a can of mushrooms and a couple of cans of diced green chillis. Two to three 24-ounce cans of Italian tomatoes, with our without basil.

Frozen vegetables—A package of corn and a package of peas. One package of mixed vegetables for making quick healthy soups.

Broths and stocks—Beef, chicken, and vegetable. Fish stock for the more adventurous. (If you haven’t had sliced potatoes slow-cooked in fish stock, I totally recommend it, simple and delicious.) I always buy low-sodium because my body is, like, you know, a temple. 🙄

Actually, always try to purchase low sodium processed foods, that gives you, the cook, more power over the seasoning of your meals.

Thai beef soup with beef balls.

Now, you’re thinking, why is this guy torturing us with pictures of beautiful, exotic home-cooked meals? Why are so many of the “basics” not as exciting as the final products?

That’s because now is the time to get what I’ll call…

The New Basics

You’ve hit the local Vons, or Trader Joe’s, Publix or Wegman’s; you’ve emptied your wallet at Whole Foods and Kroeger, now let’s get some real food. Head down to your local Asian supermarket, or your local South American/Mexican supermarket, because this is where it gets interesting.

The Carbs:

Noodles—From Japanese soba, udon and Hokkaido (ramen) noodles to the long, translucent Vietnamese and Thai rice noodles to the tightly wound, sometimes flavored Chinese noodle nests, most of these keep a long time in a dry cool place and they cook quickly offering alternative tastes and textures.

The Vegetables:

Fresh Ginger Root—it’s ugly and essential, but it can change the flavor of everything from a simple broth to a quick scrambled egg into a culinary adventure. No, don’t peel it with a spoon, that’s silly. Just use a sharp knife on the extraneous knobbly bits and then use a vegetable peeler like a normal person. Honestly, I see the YouTube chefs wrestling with a chunk of ginger and a tablespoon and I just shake my head.

Choy Sum and/or Bak Choy—Definitely hunt these down at the Asian grocer. They stay fresh longer in a good vegetable crisper in your fridge; they’re easy to clean and prepare and cook very quickly.

Chayote—A green, waxy squash that is like a more flavorful cucumber, with a great texture. Add it to all your veggie soups, or saute it with some garlic. Just handy. And keeps in the fridge for a long time.

Condiments:

Soy sauce—Get both kinds, dark soy sauce and light soy sauce. The difference isn’t the color, it’s the viscosity and the flavor. Dark soy sauce is actually somewhat sweet, unctuous and thick and adds deep rich flavors to stews, soups, and sauces. Soy sauce is a nice alternative to just seasoning with salt. Get low sodium, if dietary restrictions are in place, but you don’t really need to use too much, so, I always go with regular.

Chili Oils/Pastes—Much like the fresh peppers, this is all about personal taste. I love spicy food, but I’m not a fan of heat for heat’s sake. So, no a jalapeno margarita where I can’t taste anything or feel my lips is not a great culinary experience. Still, always have these little miracle jars handy, you control the heat by how much or how little you add to the dish you’re preparing. My three faves are traditional Chinese chili garlic sauce, Chiu Chow chili oil, and Calabrian chili oil.

Vinegar — Plain old white vinegar if you’re on a budget, but red wine, is also good. Italian balsamic if you want to live large, but I find a bottle of Japanese rice wine vinegar is the perfect all-rounder.

Fish sauce—Don’t let the name and smell deter you, a spoonful of this elixir in a soup or dressing adds a lovely saltiness and brightness.

Sesame Oil—Plain or toasted. This is for flavor only, really. You can add it to dressings, or add it to vegetable oil when sauteeing, but you can’t cook with it because it burns very quickly; that said, it gives a great depth of flavor to any dish you add it to.

Frozen Foods:

Dumplings—Either factory-made or handmade, Asian dumplings are inexpensive, delicious and easy to prepare. Beef, pork, shrimp, and vegetable or a combination of two or more fillings are always available. Korean dumplings tend to be larger. Wontons are light and mostly shrimp or shrimp and pork. If you’re lucky to have a vibrant Asian community, find the “Mom and Pop” store that makes both noodles and dumplings. Fresh dumplings are usually packed with a light dusting of corn or potato starch so they can be easily frozen.

Asian-style meatballs—OK, now these have a texture that takes a little getting used to, but they are packed with protein and flavor and cook up in seconds in a frying pan or in a soup. Pork, beef, and shrimp are the most popular. I love them and find they really make a noodle soup a quick, but truly satisfying meal.

Canned Goods:

Coconut Milk—From Indian to Thai to Malaysian cuisine, this is mother’s milk. Get a couple of cans.

Peppers—Canned chipotles. Smoked in a flavorful sauce, a little goes a long way here. But you can add these to soups and basic stews to create great depths of heat and flavor.

Okay, now this is by no means a definitive list, but it’s enough I think to give you as many options as you can once you return home and prepare for the next few weeks of personal time.

As you’ve seen, I’ve included links to some of my favorite recipes with the pictures, it’s from these recipes that I reevaluated and changed how I stock my fridge and pantry.

It’s also helped inform my cooking. Bored with cereal and toast, and fried eggs, or scrambled eggs or an omelet with bacon, one morning I created what is now my favorite, flavorful, high protein, yet not too filling breakfast; scrambled eggs and dumplings. It’s my recipe, inspired by other more traditional recipes and the food I had available at the time. It’s what Chef John from the delightful Food Wishes refers to as “that’s just you, cooking.”

The First Recipe

Ingredients:

Three eggs, room temperature, well beaten, preferably in a metal bowl with a whisk

One to two scallions or a half/third of a small yellow onion, finely chopped

One chili pepper (in this case, a Thai green chili), finely chopped.

Four to six frozen Asian dumplings depending on what type

2 Tablespoons — Vegetable oil

1 Tablespoon — Sesame oil

Chiu Chow chili oil or Sriracha

Soy Sauce

Salt

In a small saucepan bring water to a boil. In a small frying pan add your vegetable oil, the onions, and chilis and some salt and turn on the heat.

You want the onions and chilis to cook slowly and sweat, not burn or brown so keep an eye on them and keep stirring.

Now once the vegetables are cooked and the kitchen smells delicious, add a tablespoon of sesame oil into vegetables and lower the heat.

Now, the water should be at a rolling boil. Add the dumplings. I used Korean pork dumplings this morning. They only take three to five minutes to cook. You will know they are done when they float and spin freely in the water.

Now, turn up the heat of the frying pan and add in the eggs, keep stirring and cook the eggs as you like them. Take the eggs off the heat, the residual heat should finish the cooking.

Meanwhile, the dumplings should be cooked. Strain them and place them in the bottom of a bowl. Then scoop over the eggs, finish with a tablespoon or two of soy sauce and the chili sauce of your choosing.

This is a 15-minute breakfast, tops. I hope this was helpful. It’s a trying time for everyone and many of us are fortunate enough to have a roof over our heads that we can cower under. This is an opportunity for reflection, but also to make the most of your family or companions. For those of you living alone, treat yourself to a culinary feast once in a while.

I say cooking is an ordeal, but it’s also a celebration. A chance to be creative and offer comfort, if not for yourself, for the people you live with and love.

Go break an egg.

*This article is the inspiration for this blog and was previously published on Medium.