#i had a potato yesterday and it was so fucking good

[uselessmonsterboy]

I hope that you are recovering well mute. I know at times it might not seem like it but you have a lot of people that care about you.

Hope you feel better. If I could make you homemade soup I would, get better soon. And make sure you get plenty of bed rest don’t want you pulling any stitches or having to go back to the hospital.

I can sit up now (sorta) and am allowed to now walk to the front door and back on my own (gotta get my body to not hate me lmao)

And i know thank you, lovely :)♡

I am able to stay awake longer than a few hours at a time now too since my meds are getting spaced out further and further and my body isn't as shakey but alas my art isnt on the up and ups yet woop

[imwritesometimes]

nothing like waking up and immediately having horrible migraine aura followed by a horrible fckn migraine to just completely derail all the plans you had 😖

[tinyorangepotato]

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[moralesmilesanhour]

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2

summary: miles is not exactly a productive work partner

wc: ~800

A/N: not much plot movement here, but a tiny bit of exposition sort of. Miles will calm down in the following chapters...maybe 🥴

prev. next

"Oh Miles? He's in some of my AP classes. Honor student," Your friend's voice filtered through your phone speakers while on the FaceTime call. She popped a potato chip in her mouth as she sat in bed and sniffled, at home with a nasty cold.

"I've heard his name before. I think his dad died, that true?"

"Yeah, a couple years ago. Say he used to be really sweet, and now he don't talk no more."

"That's sad," you remark. "Maybe that's why I'm only seeing him now."

"You actually saw him in class?!?"

Your friend's face was the picture of disbelief, eyes wide as saucers as if this was a rare event.

"Yeah, he's my partner for the week cuz you decided to go and get yo ass sick!" you explained, dramatically jabbing a finger at your phone screen.

"It's not my fault that kid from AP Chem sneezed on me, damn!"

"He's really smart, but his attitude fucking sucks. He draws good, though," you think out loud.

“It’s just a week, sis, give it four more days, you’ll be fine.”

“You’d better hope so, for your sake.”

-

The following afternoon saw you asking around, trying to piece together a picture of this kid that everyone simultaneously knew and didn’t know. By the time lunchtime ended and Ms. Jones’ calculus class rolled around, you had heard the following:

‘Almost flunked out of school…on purpose’.

‘Did graffiti on the school walls once.’

‘Freakishly quiet’.

‘Secretly joined a gang’.

That last bit made your stomach turn a little as you approached your new temporary seat. Sure enough, Miles was already slouched at his desk, twirling that same pen between his fingers like a drumstick. You didn’t bother to say ‘hi’ this time. He didn’t bother to look up, either.

Miles didn’t say a word during the lecture portion of class, not even to answer questions. Would explain why you’d hardly noticed him until this week.

As the heavy-set math teacher scanned the classroom, she frequently craned her neck and made brief eye contact with Miles, but never cold-called him.

Her skin was a chestnut shade, and she kept her dark hair pinned back in a tight, slick bun. The way she pressed her lips together as she moved on suggested that they’d been through this before, and she'd be sorely disappointed.

When her lecture ended, Miles suddenly stood to his full height.

You weren’t able to tell by the way he sat, but the boy was quite lanky. Even with his awkwardly-broad shoulders slumped, he likely was a half a head taller than you. Ms. Jones stopped her slow pacing around the classroom and sighed.

“Miles, sweetie, what did I say yesterday?”

Miles looked up at the ceiling and sighed in exasperation before plopping back down into his chair. He raised his hand as if it pained him to do so.

“Yes, Mr. Morales?”

“May I please use the restroom?”

A few snickers could be heard erupting around the classroom, and the woman rolled her eyes. An innocent smile was plastered over Miles’ face, revealing two deep dimples in his cheeks. If the smile had actually reached his eyes, you would’ve thought he was cute.

“Go ahead,” Jones relented.

The boy dropped the smile and noisily pushed his chair aside; As he shot back up from his seat and strolled past your desk towards the door, Jones narrowed her eyes at him.

“Hold it. Sir, where are your glasses?”

Miles stopped in his tracks, groaning loudly.

“Oh my god, I don’t need glasses to go potty, Ms. Jones. I can aim, I promise.”

“Make sure you put them on as soon as you get back, your mother told me to remind you. Go,” Jones said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Uh-huh, thank you, ma’am!” The boy was already in the hallway, letting the door slam behind him.

Today's partner work was just a packet of long equations to simplify, so you were only mildly irritated that Miles never seemed to return from his impromptu bathroom trip until the last fifteen minutes of class.

You looked up as he sauntered over to his desk, hands in his pockets.

“Where were you? Class is almost over,” you demanded.

Miles ignored you and sat down, picking up his pen to work at a long string of equations at lightning speed.

Suddenly, you reached over and snapped your fingers in front of him. The boy looked up with his lips curled into a grimace.

"What's good witchu? You got through the work, didn't you?" Miles hissed in a low whisper to avoid catching Ms. Jones' attention.

You frowned deeply. "And what if I didn't? I'd be struggling while you were off running around the damn school-"

"I needed time to myself," he interrupted. "To think."

" 'Think' about what?"

"Personal shit," Miles resumed his problem-solving. "Any more questions, officer?"

The school bell rang, pulling from you a sigh of relief that you wouldn't have to see him again for another 24 hours.

[hollowtones]

you are so fucking real for eating stew, stew is love it is LIFE

, t :Basicly it was a thick & hearty tomato Sauce yesterday where I braised a lot of broccoli and aromatics & Today I wanted to eat it like a veggie stew. So there's more liquid now & more broccoli and onion and carrot. And a sausage but that's not vegetable. It's a sasuaige. You could have it without sosig. Potato would have been good but I already had a lot,

we

[wjhik]

Maybe We Were a Bit Too Loud.. (Jude Bellingham) *Smut*

A/N: been a bit too many Jude stories. if yall have any trent requests pls send

Y/N's POV:

Jude and I have both been so occupied in our work, we have barely got any time to spend with our daughter, let alone ourselves. Kiera had a play at school, so I got off work early. Unfortunately, Jude couldn't make it. She was quite upset about it, but I made sure to make it up to her. We had a girls day. We went to the Salon and got our nails done. I needed a refill on my nails and she wanted to get some color for her birthday party in a few days. I also got her some ice cream and had a shopping spree.

"Mama! Mama! Mama!" Kiera yells. She really doesn't have to be so loud. I'm right next to her. It has been a long day. As fun as it was, it was fucking exhausting. I look at her and she shows me some toy that she has, explaining it as if I didn't buy it for her. "Honey, that's amazing." I play into her excitement. "Mum, I'm hungry." She tells me, abruptly dropping her toy. "Let's get you some food, my little hungry bunny." I say, scooping her up and kissing her tummy. She starts wriggling in a fit of ticklish laughter.

I finish making spaghetti Bolognese as per my hungry bunny's request. She's just like her father. I take out her Minnie Mouse plate from the kitchen cabinet and give her some pasta. I also pair it with some leftover mashed potato and some freshly steamed broccoli and carrots. "Mama! I don't like carrots!" Kiera yells, very politely. "I know, sweetheart, but if you don't want to end up with glasses like mama, you have to have them." I tell her. She's not a picky eater, unlike me, but carrots are her weakness. It's not fun waking up to see a blurry husband, and if she wants to escape my genetic curse of poor eyesight, she has to eat her carrot. "Hmph. Fine." She says, crossing her arms but still listening to me. She's such a blessing.

As I'm serving myself the spaghetti and the vegetables (purely to be a good roll model to my daughter) for myself, I hear the door lock rattling. I look up to see my husband walk through the door. "Daddy!!" Kiera yells, attempting to get off of our high counter chairs. Jude quickly walks to his carbon copy and picks her up. "Hello, my love." He says, littering her face with kisses and placing her back on her chair. She continues munching away at her veggies. "Mhh...Whatever you made smells amazing." He says, walking to the back of the counter, where I place my plate onto the table and get out his plate. "Spaghetti Bolognese." I tell him. He grabs me by the waist and places a kiss on my head. "Missed ya." He says, then placing a kiss on my lips. "Missed you too." I reply. "Ewwww." We hear a little voice say. Our little love session is interrupted by Kiera fake gagging. She learns too much from Jobe. "Alright, alright. Go sit down, love." I tell Jude. He sits down and I place his food in front of him. He quickly gobbles it up.

"Mama, can we watch bluey?" Kiera asks. "No, honey. It's mama's turn to choose." Jude says. Kiera is sat on her little pink blanket at the left in of our very large L-shaped white couch. Jude and I are sitting on the right side. "But, daddy-" She argues back. "No 'but's." Jude says sternly. "You got your turn yesterday, and I was before you. Mama's last few turns were taken by us, too. It's time we let her choose." He explains to our daughter. She lets out a huff and puff. "Jude, it's not that serious. Let her watch. I'm pretty tired anyways." I whisper to Jude a bit too loud. "Yay! Thank you, mama!" She says, taking the remote from Jude and playing her show. "Baby, you can't give in." Jude begins a lecture. "Hey, don't tell me. You're the one who spoils her." I tell him. I'm supposed to be the strict parent, not him.

Jude put's his arm over my shoulders after the 76th episode of these stupid Australian dogs. I would go to bed, but this is the only family time we've had in weeks. I reach for my phone to check when bedtime will roll around. I let out a sigh as I realize tomorrow is a weekend, therefor she can sleep in. Jude senses my frustration and pulls me in deeper. Kiera's trance is broken when she looks over to see her parents at peace. She immediately stands up on the couch makes the strut towards us. She decides to sit right in between Jude and I, of course cuddling him and giving me her back. Jude and I's cuddle session was cut way too short.

My head moves from it’s comfortable position on the back of the couch to look at where the little snores are coming from. I see our little monkey finally asleep after 3 long hours of Australian dogs. I pat Jude's arm and he, in response, picks her up and starts walking towards the stairs. I clean up some of the cups, snacks, and toys left on the coffee table and quickly follow Jude's path. I close the baby gate at the top of the stairs Jude installed when Kiera starting crawling and head towards Keira's bedroom. I creak the door open to see Jude putting her into bed. He firmly tucks her into bed and places her pink bunny next to her. On his way out, he turns on her moon-shaped nightlight, as she's afraid of the dark, and shuts the door behind him.

Jude backs out of the room, still facing his daughter. He turns around and gets slightly startled by me standing directly behind him. "Fuck, baby. You scared me. I didn't know you were there." He says putting his hand on his own chest. "I'm sorry." I tell him, nuzzling myself into his chest. I haven't been able to feel Jude without another little lady jumping on him. Jude places his hand on the back of my head and pushes me further into him. "Let's get you to bed, pretty lady." He grabs my hand and leads me to our shared bedroom.

"Where are you going? You've already done all your bathroom shit." He tells me as I throw the blanket off myself. "Mama's going to go change into some PJs. She doesn't feel like being caught in a bra and panties when Keira decides to love bomb you tomorrow morning." Did I just say that? "Mama's gonna do what?" Jude makes fun of my use of 'mom language'. "See what this damn kid is doing to me?" I tell him, walking into our walk-in closet. I walk into my side of our closet. I open the drawer of 'sexy' underwear I have. it's basically has cobwebs on it. I pick out Jude's formerly favorite white set. I look at myself in the mirror, feeling better about myself than the last time I put it on.

Jude took me to a fancy hotel a few weeks after Keira was born to give me a break. I decided to bring along this set to 'impress' him. I was freshly postpartum, and I felt very insecure. I haven't put it on since then, but I've been working hard to get my prepartum body back. Obviously, I don't look the same as young, active, 20-year-old Y/N Jude met, but I would say I look pretty darn okay. I quickly slip on a silky robe, coming right under my arse. I tie it in a way where it cinches my waist and leaving the front open enough to give Jude a peak of his former bestie.

Jude is sat up on his side of the bed, book in hand. (Jude 110% does not read before but, but dad!jude does) I walk over to my side of the bed, taking an excessive amount of time in hopes that Jude will notice me. "Hey, baby? I was wondering if- Whoa." He says, taking his eyes away from his book. "Whoa?" I say, pretending to be clueless. Jude quickly puts his book on the side table and pushes the blanket off of his lap. He gets up and walks towards me. I open my arms for him to come into. He grabs my waist and I wrap my arms around his neck. "You look amazing, love." He tells me, leaning in to kiss my neck. He starts licking and sucking on the sensitive spot behind my ear. "Jude..." I moan, throwing my head back. Jude leaves my neck and puts his hands right where my robe ends. He effortlessly lifts me up.

He goes back to kissing me as he walks us over to the bed. He places me in the middle of it. He undoes my robe and kisses me from my neck down to my stomach. He leaves a few bites and marks on my stomach. He works his way down to my panties and slowly takes them off. He starts to lick and suck on my clit. He slowly works his way up to using 3 fingers inside me. I'm moaning and whining with my hands in his hair. "Fuck, Jude. That feels so good!" I moan out, grabbing his hair even tighter. Normally, he would talk a lot during sex, but he's so focus on me and making me feel good that he can't be bothered to dirty talk.

"Fuck, baby. Just like that. Ride me like that. Taking me so well." He says, pushing my hips back and forth. He has my robe open up top, but tied up. I ended up getting too cold, but we were too eager to stop to change the temperature, so I put on the robe again. I have my hands on his chest, using him as leverage to keep me moving. I feel my legs give out, and Jude senses it. He grabs me and flips me onto the bed. He quickly gives me a passionate kiss and pulls out of me. "Turn over, baby. On your belly." He tells me. I quickly obey, too horny to resist. I get on my hands and knees. Jude pushes his dick back in and thrusts into me at an ungodly pace. The headboard is slamming against our wall, and I'm making some very loud and lewd noises. Jude reaches up to my head and grabs a handful of my long hair. He wraps it around his hand and uses it to pull my head back. He uses this to kiss my neck, leaving even more marks than before. He pulls me off my hands and makes me grab the headboard. He wraps his unused hand around my throat and squeezes lightly. "You like that, baby? Like the way I'm fucking you?" Jude grunts into my ear. "Yes, baby. Fuck, you fuck me so good!" I moan out. I can feel a knot start to go undone in my stomach. "Baby, I'm gonna-" I tell him, reaching back to put my hands in his hair. "I know, sweetie. Cum for me. Cum around me, my love." As I hear that, I quickly let my orgasm wash over me, Jude following close behind me, filling me up with his warm cum.

"That was amazing." He tells me, kissing my sweaty forehead. Jude had cleaned me and himself up and gotten us some very fancy champagne from our wine cellar. "I know. I'm glad we got some time alone, finally." I tell him, looking up to kiss his lips. It's been way too long since Jude and I got freaky. It's hard to find the time when you're raising the clingiest child of all time. Jude takes a sip of his sparkly drink and turns on the electronic fireplace. It's mainly ambience, but it's nice to have. He turns off the two nightlights and gets comfy. Him and I drink and talk the night away, until we both cave to our parental positions and fall asleep with a show in the background.

(Time skip)

I open my eyes to see a blurry world. I reach over to the side table where I fumble until I find my glasses. I put them on and turn to face my husband. Somewhere along the night, he turned off the T.V. and tucked us into bed, taking off my glasses and placing them on my side table. On the rare occasion where I get to see him, he looks so beautiful in the mornings. I snuggle into him and kiss his forehead. I nuzzle into him and close my eyes once again, enjoying the quite morning. No rush. No Keira. This is nice. I feel Jude stirring slightly. He knows I'm awake as I have my glasses on. He places a kiss on my lips as I kiss him back. "Good morning." I tell him, giddy as ever. It's like it's our first night together at his mum's place again. "Good morning, love." He says in his raspy morning voice. Him and I chat a little before hearing a door creak open. I look over Jude's shoulder to see Kiera standing there with her bunny in her hands, her hair wild as ever.

"Can I come in?" She asks, rubbing her eyes. I quickly but discreetly slip on my panties that were discarded the night before. "Of course, love." Jude says, opening his arms to his baby girl. He places her in the middle of us, and for once she chooses to cuddle me and not Jude. I accept her cuddles with open arms and pull her in closer. "I like this. It's soft." She tells me, rubbing over my robe. Jude lets out a laugh and kisses the back of her head. He slings his arm over the two of us and pulls us into him.

"Daddy? I have a question." She asks her father who has his head on the pillow and his eyes closed. He lets out a 'hmm?' while keeping his eyes closed. "Are you nice to mama?" Jude and and I are both shocked by the question. "Of course he is, baby. Why are you asking?" I ask her. "I heard some banging on the wall yesterday and you yelling." She tells us, now sitting up. Jude and I both mentally face palm. I look at him, expecting an answer just to see him looking at me the same way. "Sweety, mama and I were just playing. She's fine." Jude explains to her. "But you said that you shouldn't play in a way where people get hurt." She says crossing her arms, visibly upset with her daddy. "Baby, I wasn't hurt." I tell her, rubbing her arm. "Then, why were you yelling?" She asks. "Umm..." I look over to Jude for an answer once again, but he is looking around the room, playing dumb. Amazing. "You know how you start yelling when your daddy tickles you? Like that." I come up with an excuse. "Oh. Daddy tickled you for a long time then." Jude starts snickering and I simply nod. Keira nods, satisfied with the answer. Jude tells her to go use the toilet and brush her teeth. She gets up and marches out of the room.

"So, can I tickle you again?"

Wattpad: funkyfishfeet

DM for requests

[willalove75]

The Estate | Lady Dimitrescu x Fem!oc Chapter 5

Summary: You have a relaxing weekend with your daughter before your first full week of work begins - and it begins with a surprise visitor and a spontaneous conversation with your new boss.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: fluff, angst if you squint, plot development

I'll add more tags as needed!

Notes: Chapter 5! In reference to the gif: if you know. You know. BECSPK gang 4 lyfeee💕 (Although my go-to is egg whites and bacon on a seedless🤤)

I want to SO apologize for not updating this fic in MONTHS! For those of you who haven't seen my Alcina's New Maid update (or my Tumblr post update) the reason for my lack of writing has been because I'm pregnant! I'm officially 20 weeks (halfway! WOO!) and have been trying to get myself back into a regular writing schedule. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the update!

Ik slow burns can be boring and I'm trying my hardest to keep it entertaining while also not rushing too much!! I have a LOT planned for this fic and I'm excited to get into the meat and potatoes of it!

Gif source

Saturday mornings are your favorite. They're usually relatively quiet, not a lot goes on and you get to spend some lazy quality time with Emma. Just as you're clipping her into her booster seat your phone dings with a text message.

Open the door, bitch

Rolling your eyes, you walk to the door and open it to find your sister, Sam, standing in front of you with a brown paper bag in her hands.

"Finally!" She says as she walks into the apartment.

"How long were you standing out there for? Thirty seconds?"

"Thirty seconds too long!" She says over her shoulder as she drops the bag onto the table and leans down to kiss Emma. "Hello my sweet little angel, how are you this morning?"

"Auntie! I'm hungry!"

"You didn't eat yet, did you?" She asks you as she opens the paper bag.

The smell of bacon immediately fills the kitchen and it makes your mouth water. The signature scent of an egg sandwich causes your stomach to growl in response.

"No, I was just about to make Emma something. Fuck that smells so good." You say under your breath. "Where are the kids?"

"Good, I got you a sandwich. And Tyler has them today. It's his weekend." Sam says.

"Ah, gotcha."

Sam hands you a sandwich from the bag and you eagerly take it from her.

"I don't think I've ever loved you more in my life."

"Ha ha" Sam sarcastically laughs. "Yeah I'm sure."

After whipping up Emma eggs of her own you sit at the table with Sam and dig into your sandwich.

"God I haven't had one of these in a minute."

"Consider this a 'congratulations on getting a job' gift." She says and you laugh in response. "How was it?"

"It was good, I keep saying this but it's really great to be back working and doing my thing. I missed it."

"Well I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. How are the people?"

"They're good, my boss is really nice, her kids for the most part are nice too. The CFO is kind of an ass, at least that's how he comes off."

"That sounds about right. Your boss' kids work there?"

"Yeah." You tell her about Bela, Cassandra and Daniela and she chuckles at Cassandra's attitude towards you.

"She sounds like a ray of sunshine." Sam says.

"You have no idea."

"Mommy! I want out!" Emma says.

"Okay baby, let's get you out."

You take Emma out of her booster seat and set her on the ground.

"Can I go play?"

"Yes baby, go ahead."

"YAY!" Emma screams as she runs into her room. You chuckle and shake your head at her.

"Well I'm glad you're liking it so far and that your boss is pretty cool. Have you told her about...?"

"No, not yet. It's too soon."

"She hasn't questioned why you've been out of work for two years?"

"Oh no, she has. But I danced around it. I'm not ready to talk about it in the office yet. It's nice not having people look at me the way they do once they find out, you know?"

"Not really, but I can understand. Is she at least understanding that you're a single mom?"

"Well, she just found that out yesterday, on accident really. Bela asked if Em was a mommy or daddy's girl."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. But I think I played it off well enough. And Bela definitely felt bad for asking because she blurted out that Alcina is a single mother too."

"Oh shit, really?"

"Yeah. Alcina shot her a look. A 'don't tell people about our personal lives' kind of look. Then before I left for the day she thanked me for being so kind to her daughters, especially the youngest one. It was really sweet."

"From what you've said she doesn't seem like the type to get sentimental with her employees like that."

"She isn't. I honestly don't know if she's ever showed anyone else in the office that side of her before. Everything is always strictly business with her, at least from what I've seen so far. But it was nice seeing that softer side of her."

"What does she look like?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm nosey and want to know!"

"I don't know, she's tall, like six feet tall and she wears heels."

"Holy shit she must be a giant."

"She is. She has short curly hair, really pretty blue-grey eyes. I've never seen eyes like hers before, they're beautiful. And she has the best figure I've ever seen, it's almost fake but you know it isn't."

"How so?"

"She has like, massive tits." You say as you imitate the size of her breasts with your hands. "And a small waist, but not like, too small? Nothing about this woman is small honestly. She has a like, perfect hour glass figure. But you can tell it's all natural. And she dresses like she walked out of the 1950s."

"Sounds like you've looked her over on more than one occasion." Sam says as she smirks at you.

"You would too if you saw her! Practically everyone does. She gives off this crazy alpha energy."

"You're single, right?"

"Oh god Sam stop. She's my boss!" You say as your cheeks turn pink.

"That hasn't stopped people before!"

"You're ridiculous. No."

"You're turning red!"

"I've been there three days! I can't have a crush on my boss! Plus, just because she's a single parent doesn't mean she isn't seeing anyone. And I doubt she's into women and she's. My. Boss."

"Whatever you say." Sam says with a smirk as she cleans up the table.

"You are a pain in my ass."

"Yet you love me anyway. So how's sassy pants downstairs?"

"Margie? She's fine, same as usual. She finally gave up driving, thank god."

"Oh fucking finally. Deb's been trying to convince her mother to stop driving for years. What made her finally give in?"

"Well, a few months ago she ran into the garage door."

"Oh Jesus."

"So she bargained. She said she would stop driving if she could start smoking again."

Sam laughs out loud and shakes her head. "She is stubborn as fuck."

"The most stubborn woman I know."

Sam hangs out with you and Emma for a few more hours before heading out. Around one in the afternoon you put Emma down for a nap and you decide to jump in the shower. After your shower you get dressed and clean the house a little. Emma only naps for an hour and a half before you go in and wake her up.

The weather is finally warming up so you decide it's the perfect day to head to the park nearby. Emma squeals with excitement when you pull up and you can barely keep up with her as she runs to the slide. There's a few other kids at the park with their parents watching close by. You keep an eye on Emma as she goes up and down the slide a few times before growing bored of it and moving to play on the jungle gym.

Kids and their parents come and go as you sit on the bench watching your daughter. Dinner time is slowly arriving so you tell Emma she can go on the slide three more times before it's time to go home. After the third time she puts up a little bit of a fight but the moment you suggest going and getting dinner from her favorite place, she's more than eager to leave.

After pulling into the parking lot you and Emma enter the 1950's-style diner. The hostess seats the two of you and when your waitress comes you place your order. Not long after the food comes out and you start on your sandwich as Emma munches on her chicken fingers. Emma squeals with excitement when you tell her that she's allowed to get an ice cream and she happily orders a vanilla sundae, you of course also order one for yourself.

As usual, Emma is wearing her ice cream by the time she's finished with it but truthfully, you couldn't care less. After getting the check and paying at the register you and Emma head home.

Once Emma is bathed and dressed in her pajamas, the two of you pick out a book, as you do every night, and you read her the story as she falls asleep.

The rest of the weekend flies by and before you know it, Monday is back again. After dropping Emma off at your in-laws house you make your way to the estate.

Walking inside you see Cassandra and one of the other bartenders prepping the bar for the day. You wave at them, Cassandra as per usual ignores you but the other bartender, Dave, waves at you with a smile and a pleasant "good morning!"

Rounding the corner towards the offices you spot Chris and Alcina talking in the hallway. Alcina is leaning up against the wall inspecting her fresh manicure, looking like she couldn't be more uninterested in whatever Chris was talking about if she tried.

When the sound of your shoes against the floor reaches her ears her eyes flick up towards you. A bright smile stretches across her lips and she pushes herself off of the wall and steps towards you.

Chris stops speaking mid-sentence and gives Alcina a look. She returns the look and says to him "I already told you you can go ahead with the project, I don't need you to continue to bore me with details that are irrelevant." before turning away.

"Good morning." You say.

"Good morning Kathleen. How was your weekend?"

"It was good, quiet but relaxing. How was yours?"

"Excellent. My weekend was busy, as usual, but pleasant."

Just as you go to speak you're interrupted by the sound of a door being slammed open in the tasting room. A second later a voice rings through the tasting room and down the hall.

"DELIVERY FOR HER HIGHNESS!"

Alcina's head snaps in the direction of the room, her eyes narrow and you hear a low growl rumble in her chest.

"If you'll excuse me." She says through gritted teeth. You notice a vein in her neck begin to pulse and she storms towards the noise.

"Oh this will be good." Chris says with a little excitement in his voice.

"What? What was that?"

"You're gonna want to see this." He says with a smile as he walks in the direction Alcina took off in. You drop your bag at your desk and head towards the direction Chris and Alcina went off to.

Alcina opens the doors to the tasting room and her vision turns red. Waltzing into the room is her brother, Karl, making his way towards the bar.

"Cassie, hook your uncle up will ya?" He says, taking a seat.

"Heisenberg." Alcina hisses.

"Ah, there she is!" He says as he puts his feet up on the bar.

Alcina smacks his feet off and glares down at him.

"Do you not have any manners?" She says as her eyes flash with rage.

"What? I'd think you'd be more appreciative that I worked so hard to finish whatever the hell it was you asked me to make."

You walk into the tasting room behind Chris and watch as Alcina stands next to a slightly disheveled man. He's wearing a stained t-shirt with baggy pants and boots. A hat, sunglasses, and a trench coat.

He goes to grab the drink that was set in front of him, ignoring the fact that Alcina is practically shaking with anger. He takes a long sip of the beer he was given and pulls out a cigar, sticking it between his chapped lips. As he goes to grab a lighter from his pocket, Alcina snatches the cigar from his mouth and breaks it in half, dumping it onto the counter in front of him.

"The fuck was that for?!"

"You cannot smoke in here!"

"You're such a fucking buzzkill." He mutters, rolling his eyes and taking another drink from the bottle. "Cassie I don't know how the fuck you put up with this shit every goddamn day."

Cassandra snickers and Alcina shoots daggers at her. Rolling her eyes at her mother, Cassandra turns around and continues putting away the glasses.

Karl finishes off his beer and lets out an obnoxiously loud burp. Alcina scrunches her face in disgust and wafts the air between them away from her.

"You are a truly vile human being." She says.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry I don't meet your standards, princess." He replies. "Hey Cass, get me another round will ya?" He says, slapping his hand down on the bar.

"Absolutely not." Alcina says. "I will not have you come in here, make a scene, drink all of our imported beers and pay not as much as a dime for them. Up! Go," she says, shooing him away from the bar. "get the table and get the hell out of my establishment!"

"Someone's in a great fuckin' mood this morning. What happened, woke up on the wrong side of your coffin?"

"Karl you are testing the very little patience I have left." She says through her teeth.

"Hah! You? Having patience? I didn't know you were a comedian."

Alcina squeezes her eyes shut and rubs at her temples as Karl gets up and starts to head towards the door. As he turns around he sees you and Chris standing near the door leading to the offices.

"Ho shit! If it ain't the fancy CFO himself!" Karl belts across the tasting room before meeting Chris halfway. "Howya doin' ya son of a bitch?" He says, shaking his hand.

"Karl my man!" Chris says. "I've been good, keepin' busy. How about yourself?"

"Hope slenderwoman hasn't been too rough on ya!" He says before laughing too loud, earning another eye roll from Alcina. "And not bad, not bad. Your boss here commissioned some kind of table from me so I'm just droppin' it off. Nice excuse to ruffle a few feathers too if you know what I mean." He says, nudging Chris in the ribs and laughing. "And who is this little lady here?" He says, looking over at you.

Not a second later you hear Alcina's heels stomping in your direction, looking up you see her eyes narrowed at the back of his head.

"I'm Katie, the new marketing and social media strategist."

"Karl Heisenberg," he says, taking your hand in his. "the pleasure is all mine." He gives you a small bow before kissing the back of your hand and letting it go.

The action took you by surprise a bit and you swore you saw steam come out of Alcina's ears as she walks up behind him. Karl lets your hand go and Alcina grabs him by the back of his jacket and begins to pull him away.

"Will you keep your filthy hands off of my staff? God only knows when the last time you washed them!" She hisses before whipping him around and pushing him towards the door. "Go!"

"What?! Is this how you treat family here?! What kind of establishment is this?!"

"One I will have you removed from if you don't get that table this instant!"

"Alright, alright! Don't get your panties in a twist. I'm going, I'm going!"

Alcina lets out a huff and brings her fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose. After gathering herself she turns back towards you and Chris and makes her way over.

"I do apologize for my little brother, he is quite feral."

"Ah come on Alci, he isn't so bad!" Chris says and Alcina shoots him a glare.

"I told you, do not call me that. And that man is insufferable at best." She turns towards you. "I do apologize for his behavior."

"Don't worry about it, really, it's okay." You say with a smile.

The doors open once more and you can hear Karl barking orders to the guys lugging the table in. Alcina physically cringes as they bang into the doorframe while trying to get it inside.

"Ay! Watch it! That table is worth more than what you get paid in a month!" Karl yells.

"If you will excuse me." Alcina says before making her way over to the men and directs them where to go.

Both you and Chris take that as your cue to leave so the two of you head back to your offices.

"Told ya you'd wanna see that." He says with a satisfied smirk.

"See what? Ms. Dimitrescu and her brother?"

"Yeah! I've never seen anyone else be able to get her riled up so easily. Just his presence is enough to make the woman lose her shit."

"I guess." You say

It aggravated you a little seeing Chris find so much enjoyment from watching Alcina get frustrated and riled up. If anything, you felt bad for the woman. Luckily you and your sister got along great but it would probably piss you off too if you had a sibling that was to blatantly rude and dismissive in your place of work. If anything it's probably as embarrassing as it is annoying.

The rest of the walk back to your office was quiet, much to your surprise Chris seemed to get the hint that you weren't in the mood to revel in Alcina's misery and didn't say anything else. When you sat down at your desk you finally able to get started on today's work.

A few minutes later you hear heels on the tiled floor and see Alcina walk past your office. She looked less than thrilled for the couple of seconds you were able to see her. The door to her office opens and a minute later you hear it close and she walks past you again. Thinking nothing of it, you dive back into answering emails.

Once your inbox was taken care of you go to check your to-do list to see what you needed to prioritize for the day. Digging through your bag you realize you must have left your notebook in the car so you grab your keys and head out the side door towards the parking lot.

As you open the door the smell of fresh air quickly changes into the smell of cigarette smoke. Looking over, you see Alcina leaning up against the brick wall with a cigarette perched between two fingers.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were out here." You say as you close the door behind you.

"No need to apologize. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just left my notebook in my car." You reply.

Alcina brings the cigarette to her perfectly painted red lips and takes a long drag before pulling it away. She turns her head away from you and exhales the smoke. Usually you found smoking to be unattractive but somehow every single thing this woman does is attractive as hell. You'd put money on the fact that she could shovel a pile of shit and still look good while doing it.

You make your way to your car and find your notebook on the floor of the passenger side. Walking back over to Alcina you notice her eyes are still on you.

"I didn't know you smoked." You say as you walk up to her and immediately wish you kept your mouth shut. Why would you say that? What a stupid thing to say.

Alcina chuckles as she takes another drag before exhaling again.

"Yes, it's truly a disgusting habit I've yet to break. I had been doing well, however, my brother certainly knows how to get under my skin."

"I get that, siblings definitely know how to rile each other up."

"He is a man-child. A petulant fool." She grumbles.

As you chuckle a van drives by and slows down. In the drivers seat you see Karl. He blares on his horn a few times as he drives by, causing both you and Alcina to jump. Your hands fly up to your ears and Alcina visibly winces at the noise.

"Nenorocitul acela." Alcina grumbles under her breath as she sticks her pinky in her ear. (That fucking moron).

She takes another drag from her cigarette and looks over at you.

"You said your daughter is starting daycare this week?"

Her question took you by surprise for a second, you definitely weren't expecting Alcina to remember that from the conversation you had last week.

"Yes! She starts tomorrow." You say with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. Truthfully, you were excited that Emma was going to spend time with other children her age and be able to socialize more, but the thought of sending her to daycare also gave you a lot of anxiety.

Alcina notices your apprehension even though you hide it well in your voice. It brought her back to when the girls were little and she sent them off to daycare for the first time. Granted, it was more of a private school than daycare, but leaving the girls behind and going to work was still anxiety-inducing for her.

"Nervous?" She asks before taking another drag of her cigarette.

Knowing Alcina was asking about you, you decide to divert your answer.

"Oh Emma is really excited. She wasn't sure at first but as soon as she saw all of the toys they had she was thrilled. She was very upset that she wasn't able to stay the day we did the tour."

"I was asking about you." She said with a smile.

"Oh."

"I remember when I dropped the girls off at daycare for the first time. I think I cried more than they did." She says with a chuckle. You notice a faraway look in her eye as she thinks back on the memory.

Alcina walked down the large, ornate hallway with Cassandra's tiny had in hers. In Cassandra's other hand, Bela clung tightly to her. When they arrived to the classroom the girls' daycare teacher greeted them at the door.

"Good morning! You two must be Cassandra and Bela." She says with a warm smile.

Bela and Cassandra clung to each other tighter, staring between Alcina and their new teacher. Alcina bends down and runs her fingers through Cassandra's dark hair.

"Girls, do you remember your teacher? Ms. Jackson?"

Bela's blue eyes scan the room as she holds onto her sister.

"Eu vreau sa merg acasa." She says quietly as tears begin to fill her eyes. (I want to go home).

"It will only be for a little while, draga. I'll be back before you know it." Alcina says, turning both girls to face her. She wipes the tears from Bela's cheeks and shushes her. "Nu plânge, e în regulă draga mea." (Don't cry, it's alright my darling).

"Vreau să merg acasă, te rog." Bela says as her voice trembles. (I want to go home, please).

"How about you give it a try? I have to go to work, but then we will go back home and we can play with your toys." Alcina says.

"No!" Bela yells, taking Alcina by surprise. "Vreau să merg acasă la mami! O vreau pe mama mea!" She cries. (I want to go home to mommy! I want my mommy!).

Alcina can feel her heart breaking in her chest. Cassandra's eyes begin to fill with tears as she watches her big sister cry. Even though she's only a year younger than Bela, she still understands that so much has changed and that they're no longer with their mother.

"O vreau pe mama mea." Cassandra whimpers before she starts to cry as well. (I want my mommy).

Wrapping her arms around the two little girls, Alcina pulls them into her and they grab onto her shirt and jacket as they cry.

"Shh, shh. Nu plânge fetele mele dragi, nu plânge. Va fi bine, doar respira, totul va fi bine." She says softly as she rubs circles across their backs as she tries to soothe them. (Don't cry my sweet girls, don't cry. It's going to be alright, just breathe, everything is going to be alright).

Their small cries chip away at Alcina's already fragile heart. She squeezes her eyes shut, refusing to shed a tear, refusing to let the girls - or anyone else for that matter - see her cry.

After taking a few deep breaths, Alcina begins to quietly hum the girls' favorite lullaby. She may still be brand new to parenting, but the one thing she figured out that works was singing to the girls in their native language. It was one of the few things that have been able to calm them when they were upset or scared. Alcina's mother would sing it to her and her sister when they were young. One night when she was at her wits end, she began singing it for Bela and Cassandra and they immediately began to calm down. It's been her go-to ever since.

The girls finally stop crying and Alcina pulls away enough to look at the two of them. As heartbreaking as it was, she couldn't help but think of how cute they looked. Bela's blue eyes and Cassandra's hazel eyes always looked brighter after they cried. Even their flushed cheeks and runny noses made them look cute. Alcina cupped each of their faces and wiped away their tears before placing a kiss in the center of each of their foreheads.

The girls looked up at her and it was almost pitiful. So much of her wanted to just take them home but she had to go to work and she had to let them go. Taking both of their small hands into each of hers, she looked both girls in the eye.

"I know it's frightening, I know you girls are scared, but I am coming back. I promise, I will be back and we will all go home together, okay?" The both nodded at her as tears began to fill their eyes once more. "No more tears my darlings, alright? No more tears." She says as she wipes away the stray tears from their cheeks. "I need both of you to be brave? Okay? Bela, I need you to look after your sister, to be protect her, alright?" Bela looks at Cassandra and back at Alcina and nods. "Cassandra, I need you to look after your sister, to be brave for her, can you do that for me?" Cassandra wipes her nose and nods at Alcina.

She strokes their hair before pulling the girls back in for a tight hug.

"Vă iubesc, vă iubesc atât de mult fetelor. Mă întorc, promit dragilor mei. Mă voi întoarce după tine. Nu te voi lăsa." Alcina whispers to them before giving them one last squeeze and letting go. (I love you, I love you girls so much. I'm coming back, I promise my darlings. I'll come back for you. I will never leave you).

Alcina stands up and straightens out her shirt and jacket. She takes the girls hands in each of hers and guides them to their teacher. Ms. Jackson smiles down at the girls and points out all of the toys scattered around the room. Cassandra eyes a baby doll and another little girl picks it up. The girl sees Cassandra and walks over to her.

"Play?" The little girl asks.

Cassandra looks up at Alcina and Alcina smiles down at her.

"Go ahead darling, go play."

Cassandra hesitantly releases Alcina's hand and looks at Bela, reaching out towards her. Bela's grip on Alcina tightens and Alcina strokes her hair.

"It's alright love, go play with them."

Bela looks up at Alcina who nods. After contemplating for a moment, Bela takes Cassandra's hand and the three little girls make their way over to the rug and begin playing with the toys.

Alcina takes the opportunity while they are distracted to thank the teacher and leave before they see her again. With her heart still breaking in her chest, Alcina makes it to her car and starts the engine.

Before she can pull away, the floodgates open. She grips the steering wheel and rests her forehead against her hands as she cries. Different emotions bubble up, but the strongest one is anger.

She's angry that the girls were put through so much at such a young age. She's angry at how unfair the last few months have been for them. Angry at the situation she herself was put in.

Alcina slams her fist against the steering wheel before pulling herself together. She takes her makeup bag from her purse and fixes her makeup before taking one last deep breath and driving away.

You can see memories flash across Alcina's eyes, memories you know nothing about. But you can see the emotions in her eyes, worry, sadness, and anger. Alcina snaps out of it and takes another drag of her cigarette and exhales.

"It's certainly not easy," she says. "the first few times are the most difficult, but eventually they were so excited the girls didn't even say goodbye when they ran through the doors." She says with a laugh.

"I'm sure we'll get there, but like you said, the first few times are gonna be rough."

"I have no doubts that the two of you will do great." She says with a smile.

With one last drag of her cigarette, Alcina puts the butt into the cigarette receptacle.

"Shall we?" She asks, nodding towards the door.

"Oh! Yeah." You say sheepishly.

Alcina opens the door and holds it for you. "After you."

"Thank you." You say with a smile before the two of you head back in.

[milflewis]

22 + chalex for the prompt thing! 🫶🏻

22. hug

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 1: So. I am fucked. Surprise though! So you can stop all the tears — talking about you, Commander, the softy that you are - I am alive.]

—

Two weeks after NASA has declared Alex Albon dead and left on Mars, Charles writes to George. He sends it to Sebastian and makes him swear to get it to Lewis in the crew’s next info dump, who will give it to George.

He tells him about how Alex’s plants are doing, and about his shifts at the hospital, how he’s on night work now, with the shifts rotating over. He tells him about going to the beach and just standing there for hours, staring out at the water, until he could no longer feel his face from the cold. He tells that he’s more or less sleeping, that he’s going to work, that he’s eating. He tells him that he hopes they’re keeping safe and that he loves him.

He doesn’t talk about Alex. He doesn’t tell George he doesn’t blame him. He knows he’ll know. That he won’t need Charles to write the words.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 2: I think I've got this actually. Ignore yesterday. Getting stranded on Mars kinda messes with your head. I've got a plan and I'm feeling good about it! ]

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 2: Update. I do not got this. If I die, Charles, I demand a mourning period of at least eighty-three years. Please bury me under some nice flowers. Blue if you can.]

—

“Come back to me,” Charles says, arms tight around Alex’s neck, mouth pressed under his ear. He smells of shampoo and asphalt. His bony elbows are digging into Charles’s back.

“I’m going to make Mars my bitch,” Alex says, grinning, and Charles shoves him away with a laugh.

Alex catches his wrist with a warm hand. His palm is dry and calloused. “Charlie,” he starts, low and careful. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.” Charles’s voice cracks. He tries again. “Yes, I know, of course, of course. Me too.”

Alex smiles, and it’s wonderful. Charles memorises the shape of it.

Down the line, with his back to the hoard of cameras, Commander Lewis Hamilton is pressing his mouth against his husband’s knuckles. Both of their eyes are closed.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 54]: Did you know that if you grow something somewhere that you've then colonised it? So, like, now that I've got my potatoes going does that mean I now own Mars? A win for the gays and the losers, motherfuckers!]

—

Toto swivels in his chair and looks out of the window to the sky beyond. Night is slipping in.

"What is it like?" he wonders. “Stuck up there. Alone. He does not know we know. What does that do?"

He looks at Niki. "I wonder what he is thinking right now."

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 61: How come Aquaman can control whales. They're mammals! Makes no sense.]

—

Some days, when he hasn’t had much sleep and the air warps and curls over on itself with heat, he sees Charles.

He’ll only ever be far off in the distance — too far for Alex to even see the details of his face, let alone touch him. He’d know the shape of those shoulders anywhere.

Alex waves to him sometimes. This dark blur on the horizon that just stands there and watches. He never waves back. The sun on Mars is unforgiving.

Alex wonders if he’s moisturising his hands. The latex exam gloves he has to wear for work always dry out his skin.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 76: I'm going to have to science the shit out of this. George, please don't use this as porn. I know how hot and bothered you get about me being all smart and sexy.]

—

George has, like, every sitcom ever downloaded in his personal storage. Alex works his way through them all. If he never hears another laugh track in his life he’d die happy.

Lewis’s music list is jam packed full of different genres. There is a surprising amount of The Beatles in there. Alex wouldn’t have guessed he was a fan of them.

Alex decides the music Lewis had made himself, all chords and notes and little words, is some of his favourites. It can be hard hearing other people speak at you and not being able to talk back.

Every book Valtteri had downloaded is in Finnish. Alex thinks he probably should’ve guessed that would be the case.

It turns out Finnish is very hard to learn, especially when the only words you’ve picked up are swears that you’ve heard Valtteri muttering under his breath before media duties.

—

[LOG ENTRY: SOL 206: Finally got into contact with NASA because I am that bitch and I will be damned if I die here, and that is a promise. They won’t stop telling me what to do now though, so, like, it’s a give and take, I guess.]

—

The first thing Charles notices about Alex is that he has freckles all over his face but especially across his nose and cheeks. This feels very important.

The second thing he notices is that he is tall and his wrists are bony. Charles eyes the strip of skin where his MATHS IS SEXY top rides up. There is an equally tall man sitting in the booth beside him with a shirt that reads: NO ITS NOT.

The third thing he notices is that he is extremely drunk. His cheeks are flushed and he’s half falling over the table as he tries to explain something while laughing.

Charles probably falls in love right there if he’s being honest, even if he never gets the courage to go up and talk to him. Alex is the one who says hi, weeks later, asking him if he wants to play pool.

Charles doesn’t know how to play pool. He says yes anyway because he thinks it might make Alex smile. It does.

He keeps saying yes and Alex keeps smiling. They move together after college graduation.

Charles is coming off a double shift and he can’t feel his feet when Sebastian shows up to give him a ride home. He makes him tea when they get in. It’s a blend of something herbal and sweet like honey.

Sebastian tells him Alex is still alive as Charles breathes in the steam. He tells him that they left him behind on Mars. That it was an accident. That they’re figuring out how to get him home.

Alex is alive, Charles thinks. I’ll get to see Alex smile again, Charles thinks, and promptly bursts into tears.

—

[08:47] BUTTON: Good, keep us posted on any mechanical or electrical problems. By the way, the name of the probe we're sending you is Iris. You know, the one who rode the waves of heaven using the wind. I think she's also the chick with the rainbows.

[08:49] ALBON: Gay probe coming to save me. Got it.

—

I’m so glad it’s not me stuck up there, the navigational assistant tells him. He was the one who discovered Alex was still alive in the first place. He tells him he noticed the MAV moving. His name is Yuki.

Alex thinks he’s going to say he’d miss people or fresh fruit or Netflix or sex or something. Alex hasn’t had a mango in so long. He hasn’t had a blowjob in even longer. Some days he isn’t sure which is worse.

Yuki is very very funny.

Can you imagine only eating potatoes, he tells Alex. I would rather die dead and alone. And then: though I guess you would not have to imagine.

And then: the eating potatoes bit. sorry. you haven’t done the other one yet.

Alex laughs so much he rebreaks a only barely healed rib and NASA yells at them both. His calcium levels are very low.

—

[21:27] BUTTON: How are the crops affecting that number? As to your question: We haven't told the crew you're alive yet. We wanted them to concentrate on their own mission.

[21:30] ALBON: The crops are potatoes. I got them from the ones we were supposed to eat for Christmas. They're doing great but the available farmland isn't sustainable. I'll run out of food around SOL 900. Also. Fucking tell the crew I'm alive???? What the fuck is wrong with you????

[21:31] BUTTON: SOL 900 is great news. That'll give us time to get a supply mission to you. And I’ve been told to tell you to watch your language. Everything you type is being broadcasted around the world.

[21:32] ALBON: Look! A pair of boobs - > ( . Y . )

—

Dear Alex: Apparently, NASA is letting us talk to you now. And I drew the short straw. Sorry we left you behind on Mars.

But we just don't like you. You're sort of annoying. And you shed hair everywhere.

Also, it's a lot roomier on the Hermes without you. We have to take turns doing your tasks. But, I mean, it's only botany. It's not a real science.

How's Mars?

— George.

—

Alex stares up at the plain white ceiling of the HAB. The wind roars and rages outside and the Level Threw sandstorm shakes the walls. It holds. It always holds.

When he makes the journey to find the HAB of the HERMES TWO, he’ll be technically crossing international waters without any explicit permission from a governmental body. That makes him a pirate.

I’m going home, Alex thinks. And then: I can’t wait to tell Charlie that he’s married to a bad boy.

Alex runs a hand over his face. He’s even gotten the beard to go with it.

—

Dear George: Mars is fine. When I get lonely I think of that steamy night I spent with your mum.

How are things on Hermes? Cramped and claustrophobic? Yesterday I went outside and looked at the horizons. They really do go on forever.

— Alex.

—

"Thing is," Alex scrambles to say, mouth dry and sore. "I'm selfish. I want all the memorials back home to be just about me. I don't want the rest of you losers in any of them. I can't let you guys blow the VAL. Also, I'm the only one who is allowed to make Charlie cry. Them's the rules."

"Oh," Lewis says. "Well, I mean, if you won't let us — wait. Wait a minute, I think I see something on my shoulder patch here. Oh, right, yeah, it says I'm the Commander. So, you know, what I say goes. Shut the fuck up and sit tight. We're coming to get you."

Alex swallows — or tries to at least. His whole body aches. He thinks he broke a rib, or two. Or three. He wants to cry.

"Copy that, sir."

"We've got you, man." Lewis's voice is warm. Alex doesn't have to imagine his smile anymore. He's going to get to see it very soon.

—

Alex is all bone and mouth when Charles gets to see him again. He has lost so many of his freckles. He hugs him close, pressing his thumbs into the hinge of Alex's jaw. Alex bows and curls over him and Charles doesn't let either of them fall.

He tastes vaguely of salt and snot when Charles kisses him. Charles is crying.

Alex is smiling when he pulls away, arms tight around Charles' back. "Look at your face," he says softly. He's talking to himself.

"I'm here," Charles replies, louder than necessary. Alex blinks at him and his smile, impossibly, gets even bigger. Charles's stomach squirms.

"You're a mess," Alex teases him, running a hand through Charles' hair. Charles doesn't say anything about how his hands shake.

“You should stay here and take care of me then,” Charles says, and Alex closes his eyes, smushing his nose hard into the skull of Charles’s forehead. Charles digs his nails in.

Fuck you, Mars, Charles. Fuck you.

[morganski-19]

The One with the Trifle Pt 1

Pretend it’s Thanksgiving please and thank you. Flashback to Eddie’s first Thanksgiving after moving to the city. (If you’re a friends fan or know this episode, this will only be about the trifle bit and not the secret revealing section at the end of the episode. That will be coming at another time.)

Robin is standing in the kitchen with a large glass container in front of her. She’s carefully reading the instructions of a cookbook, pulling out ingredients as she goes. Steve comes out of the bathroom and walks over to the kitchen.

“Are you sure you got the dessert this year? We both know what happened last Christmas,” he asks, again. For the third time.

Robin rolls her eyes. “That was a fluke. I think I really got it this time. And, nothing is going in the oven, just stove top.”

“You say that like it makes it better. I’ve seen you burn water before.”

“No, that was dry pasta that I forgot to add the right amount of water to, so it dried up and then burned. But that was years ago. Now I know how to use the stovetop.”

Steve sighs. “If you need anything, I mean anything, I’ll be right across the hall helping Nancy with the rest of the food. No question is too stupid to ask me.”

“We both know that is a lie.”

“What are you making anyway?” Steve leans over the counter to see the cookbook.

Robin picks it up to show him. “It’s a trifle, from this old British cookbook I found at the thrift store. Cute, right.”

“Yeah, if you don’t fuck it up.”

Robin smacks him with the book. “Out, out. Go help Nancy and stop making fun of me.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop making fun of you, but whatever.” Steve walks across the hall to Nancy’s apartment. She’s in the kitchen basting the turkey while Eddie, Argyle, and Jonathan are sitting on the couch watching the parade.

“Steve, thank God. I needed someone who,” she turns her head to the living room, “actually knows what they’re doing.” She stares at the back of Eddie’s head.

Eddie makes a large gesture. “I didn’t know it was possible to fuck up cutting green beans.”

“It is when you cut them like this.” Nancy holds up a green bean sliced down the middle lengthways.

Steve winces. “How the hell did you think this is how you cut green beans.”

Eddie stands up. “That’s it. I’m going to hang out with Robin, at least she won’t make fun of me.”

“You sure about that,” Argyle snorts.

“She is just as bad as cooking as Eddie apparently is, it’s honestly fifty-fifty with how this goes.” Steve starts to peel the bowl of potatoes.

Eddie gives them the finger before shutting the door.

“Speaking of,” Jonathan turns to face the kitchen, “Do we have a backup dessert for when Robin eventually ends up burning hers?”

Nancy gives Steve a death glare. “Do you want to explain or should I?”

Steve sighs. “I had parent teacher conferences yesterday and didn’t have time to bake anything.”

“Because.”

Another sigh. “Because I went on a date with this girl I’ve been talking to for a few weeks.”

Argyle stiffens, having gotten close to Eddie in the past few months. Knowing how he feels about Steve. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

Steve shrugs. “It’s not that serious to be honest. We’ve only been on the one date.”

“And now we will end up eating whatever Robin ends up burning because someone couldn’t push it off until next week.” Nancy angrily jabs at the bread she is cutting.

“Woah, Nance, take a deep breath. Your parents aren’t coming this year, it’s just us. There’s nothing to stress about.” Steve stops peeling the potatoes to try and rub her shoulder, only to get his hand swatted away.

“Yeah,” Argyle agrees. “I’ve eaten plenty of Robin’s burnt cookies, and I’m still here. Some of them were pretty good actually.”

Steve gets a text from Robin.

Robin: Quick questions, how do I tell if the butter is browned

Robin sends an image

Steve: About five minutes before it looks like that

Robin: Shit

A while later, Steve is watching the stove while Nancy takes a break on the couch. Eddie opens the door, barely poking his head through before calling Steve into the hall. He calls Nancy back into the kitchen before heading out into the hall with Eddie.

“So,” Eddie draws out as Steve closes the door. “We have a bit of a problem.”

“Oh God, what did she do?”

“There’s beef involved.”

Steve’s eyes bug out. “What? Beef? How, I thought she was making a trifle.”

“She mostly is,” Eddie says. “Just this cookbook is the weirdest one ever where the recipes are mixed in with each other instead of in their own sections. And it’s an old book, and some of the pages were stuck together. So, turn the page to get to the rest of the recipe, and it’s a recipe for shepherd’s pie.”

Steve makes a horrified face. “Nancy is going to kill me. Like straight up murder. I will be dead tomorrow.”

“Why? Robin’s the one making the dessert. Shouldn’t she be the dead one.”

“That’s the thing. I always have a backup dessert. It’s a little game we play each year. Robin wants to try to bake again but leaves it in a little too long and it gets burnt. Or accidently adds salt instead of sugar. Or thinks she knows better than the recipe and adds too much flour. So, then I come in with another dessert for the people who don’t like to eat burnt cake. She isn’t the best at cooking, or baking, but she tries, and it brings her so much joy, so we let her do it and eat the dessert. But then mine is like the palate cleanser. Except this year there isn’t a palate cleanser and we’re going to eat a trifle with beef in it.” Steve takes in a deep breath, trying not to hyperventilate.

Eddie nods, trying to process everything. “That’s kind of sweet that you guys eat messed up baked goods just to make her happy.”

“Yeah well, it’s Robin. No one really likes to make her upset. Which she will be if we let her know that this is a major fuck up.”

“So we’re going to eat the beef dessert thing. There’s fruit and custard involved.” Eddie makes a disgusted face.

Steve gags at the thought. “Yeah, yep, yes. We are. I’m going to do damage control, you keep her happy. And if the pages become unstuck before the beef gets added, no one will be mad at you for interfering.”

“It’s already been done. There is no stopping it.”

“Alright then. I’m going to go get murdered, it’s been nice knowing you.”

Eddie nods before going back into Robin’s apartment. Steve takes a deep breath before walking back into the apartment.

“What did Eddie want?” Nancy asks.

“Nothing that important, Jon can I talk to you for a second.” Steve rushes past Nancy and pulls Jonathan into Eddie’s room. “We have a problem.”

Jonathan adjusts his shirt. “One that you had to physically pull me into a bedroom for.”

“Yes. Robin mixed up two recipes and now there’s beef in an English Trifle.” Steve makes a face like he’s bracing for impact.

Jonathan stands there silent for a few seconds, blinking. “It was nice knowing you.” He pats Steve on the shoulder.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I am already very aware of the fact that I am dead, but we do in fact have to eat the beef trifle.”

“No we don’t,” Jonathan says with disbelief.

“It’s Robin,” Steve shrugs. “We have to.”

Jonathan nods, pained. “We do. Remind me to get super high before dessert comes out, it will help it all go down. Hell, I might like it.”

“You mind telling Argyle about this, I have to go tell Nancy.”

“I’ll go guard the knives. Good luck.”

Steve and Jonathan leave the room. Jonathan going over to Argyle and whispering something in his ear, Argyle seeming indifferent to the news. Steve takes a deep breath before asking Nancy to talk in her room.

“What happened?” Nancy cuts to the chase, crossing her arms.

“Robin. Lovely, sweet, kind, sometimes confused when it comes to baking, Robin. May have mixed up two recipes when making the dessert.”

Nancy takes the first part well. “That doesn’t seem too bad. They were both desserts, right?”

“That’s the thing. Apparently, this book has the recipes mixed up and not in sections. So when the pages were stuck together, one page was an English trifle, and the other was a Shapard’s pie.”

“What,” Nancy yells. “How can those to be mixed up?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t there. I was here helping you with the rest of the food.” Steve takes a step back.

Nancy follows after her, slapping him on the arm. “I can’t believe this. Robin is going to be crushed when we won’t eat it. Then she’ll be mortified when she realizes her mistake.”

Steve makes a pained face.

“Steve, we’re not going to eat this are we?” Nancy’s death glare sets in again.

“It’s Robin, of course we have to.”

Nancy starts hitting him again mixed in with anger about his mess up. When she calms down, she says, “I am doing this, not for you, but for Robin. Because I cannot even begin to think about how she’s going to react when she figures this all out.”

Nancy leaves the room without saying another word. Steve goes back to the living room and flops on the couch, being dramatic about the nonexistent bruises that Nancy gave him. She did not hit him as hard as she could have, or wanted to.

“Get up you big baby and get your ass back into the kitchen,” Nancy says from the kitchen.

Steve turns his head towards Jonathan and Argyle. “You know, sometimes I wonder why we broke up in college. And then I am reminded why.” He stands and goes to the kitchen.

part 2 coming tomorrow

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1

[sam-loves-seb]

i just need a least a little bit of easter!married gallavich from sam

meant to get around to this yesterday but the day got away from me. i hope you had a good easter anon!

ian and mickey don’t really give a fuck about easter. at least, not from a religious standpoint.

but it’s an excuse to get the family together—like they need a reason—so when debbie starts blowing up the family group text about what time to come over for lunch, they tell her they’ll be there and they’ll bring dessert. they pick up a cake with bunnies on it from some westside bakery that ian picks up donuts from sometimes on the weekends.

debbie cooks, because getting together was her idea, and because no one else wants to do it. all the gallaghers go. franny’s wearing bunny ears and perpetually has chocolate on her face for the entire day. fred’s wearing a little bow tie that won’t stay clipped to his shirt for the life of him.

it’s almost too cold to be outside, but the kids are hyped up on candy and sugar so mickey volunteers to sit on the front porch and watch them run around and tire themselves out. debbie’s place is cramped and he can only spend so much time in the same room as lip.

ian spends the first hour catching up with his brothers and bothering debbie in the kitchen. eventually he finds mickey outside and sits on the porch with him, listening to fred ramble on about what the easter bunny brought him. franny nods along dutifully, even though she hasn’t believed in the bunny for a few years now.

they cram a folding table into the living room and squish as many people around it as they can. they eat ham and potatoes and roasted carrots and whatever else debbie decided to make. carl passes out beers and tami pours wine and they eat family style with plates and bowls passed around the small space.

later, mickey ends up wearing franny’s bunny ear headband, one of the ears bent at an angle. ian tries to sneak a picture, but mickey flips him off in every single one. they’re perfect.

sunday holidays are weird, and by the time they make it back to their apartment they’re tipsy and exhausted. they tell themselves that next year they’ll remember to take the day after easter off. (they never do.) they have a pound of leftovers ian slides in the fridge.

ian untucks his button up shirt from his jeans and undoes the top few buttons. mickey rips off his sweater the first chance he gets, and collapses on the living room couch with his tank top and jeans with the button undone. ian falls into place next to him, a bag of reese’s eggs open and ready to be devoured sits between them.

they catch the tail end of the white sox game and mickey passes out almost immediately. ian eventually grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and throws it around both of them, sliding down until he’s horizontal and mickey’s curling into his chest in his sleep—but not before he posts the bunny ears picture to his instagram story.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Stupider Tattoos

Part One of If You Can't Take the Heat

Masterlist | The Original

Pairing: Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto x Reader

Rating: M (though it may have explicit chapters in the future)

Notes: Not beta-read. Chapters are more loosely connected than solidly structured.

Summary: You close out of the app, tossing the phone onto the opposite couch cushion with a huffed scoff. This is just futile. You’re quitting dating apps tomorrow.

It’s an off-handed right swipe, but when your profile pictures shift beside one another, you take a better look at the guy. You hadn’t actually read his bio, you’d just thought he was kinda cute. Now, though, you click on the profile, and you realize that it’s probably a fake—

im a fuckin knowitall jackoff that thinks cooking is better than sex i smell like onion and all of my tattoos are fuckin stupid

You snort. Amazing. Whoever’s running this, either as a joke or to piss someone off, knows what the hell they’re doing. You swipe through a few pictures. His tattoos aren’t that bad…Sure you have questions about a couple of them, but you’ve seen stupider tattoos.

You hesitate before you open the chat and type exactly that:

I’ve seen stupider tattoos.

And you leave it at that. You expect it to be left at that, especially if it's a joke account. But then you get—

did richie put you up to this? And then, you can drop it if he did

Your brow furrows at the question. You tap the chat open and reply: I have no idea who that is, dude

yeah ok

You scoff, shaking your head.

if you don’t wanna talk just unmatch

A solid ten minutes goes by. Then—

you really don’t know who richie is?

how do i know this isn’t richie

You don’t have anything but my word.

least you type better than he does

I’m swooning.

if you’re not trying to fuck with me why’d you swipe on me

??? You’re cute, dude

thanks

sure

you are too

I’m swooning again

alright

…okay. good talk

You close out of the app, tossing it onto the opposite couch cushion with a huffed scoff. This is just futile. You’re quitting dating apps tomorrow.

--

You wake up to a new message—one that you don’t anticipate, and that, based on your interaction the day before, confuses the shit out of you:

what’s the best meal youve ever eaten

You have to think about it—really think about it. All of the answers that come to mind sound pretty fucking lame. Your Papa’s gumbo? Your mom’s potato salad?—That’s technically not a meal, it’s a component. 

Tough question, You answer. Then, I don’t know

no idea?

Nope

youre definitely not richie

he would’ve told you to say spaghetti or balls, some shit

Oh, still on that, huh?

i gotta vet you, right?

Do you?

isn’t that what dating is? vetting people? to be part of, like….your life or whatever?

Sounds like you haven’t dated much, dude

how long are you gonna call me dude?

Til you stop acting like a shitdick

…

kay

So?

What?

best meal you ever had

I told you, I don’t know.

i’m not buying it. everyone has one

Well what’s yours?

i could make it for you

It’s your own food? Full of yourself much? Is that why you smell like onion all the time?

what?

Read your bio

fuck

i don’t

i mean, a little

sometimes

so?

You have to think about it for a moment. The conversation's certainly progressing in a different way than you'd anticipated yesterday. Hell, after that, you hadn't expected to hear from him again at all. But this conversation hasn't been completely unpleasant, and unlike 96% of the people you talk to, he's actually trying to make a plan to meet you.

Yeah, okay.

But only if we can do a video call first so that I know that you're the one in the pictures and that you’re not a murderer.

why would i murder you

I’m just vetting you, buddy.

jesus

fine

now?

Your heart leaps into your throat at the prospect, and you hurriedly get out of bed, half-running to your bathroom. You realize as you go that the nerves are probably unwarranted—if you gave the guy another time, he’d probably be cool about it. But as you hurriedly splash some cool water on your face to wake yourself up, you sort of feel like it’s now or never. You glance at the phone as you fix your hair to make it presentable, checking for a new message. Nothing. You finally type ‘Sure’ as you head down the hall toward your kitchen. 

A moment later, your phone is buzzing with an in-app video call. You take a deep breath to quell your swirling nerves before you hit the answer button. 

You see a neck first. Then a cigarette bobs into view—and a voice mutters, “Shit, hang on.”

“...What am I looking at?” 

“I’m lighting up, I didn’t think you’d answer that fast.” 

You arch a brow, setting the phone on top of your breadbox as you begin to make coffee. Your eyes dart toward the phone, doing a double-take as the man’s face comes properly into view. The camera hold is a little shaky at first, but as he adjusts his grip, you get a better look at him. He’s definitely the guy in the pictures, that’s one box checked. 

“Where are you?” You ask, eyeing the bland wall behind him. 

“Uh…The alley behind my job.” 

“You’re not really ticking the non-murderer boxes.” 

“Where are you?” 

“My kitchen. Making coffee. Are you already at work?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I, uh—I work in a sandwich shop.” 

“Explains the onion thing.” 

He huffs, nodding as he draws on his cigarette. 

“Prepping for lunch?” You press. 

“Uh-huh.”

“You like it?” 

“Sometimes.” 

You glance over at the phone, arching a curious brow. 

“So is your name really Carmy?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s short for Carmen.” 

“Ah. So who’s Richie?” 

He puffs out another long drag, eyes rolling to look at the sky. “He’s my cousin. I mean—he’s not my cousin, he’s like, a family…”

“Friend?” 

“—Nuisance.” 

You chuckle softly, tucking the coffee-filled filter into the machine’s basket. 

“You at home?” He asks. 

“Uh-huh. I just woke up.”

“Must be nice.” 

You slide your eyes toward the video. “You’re the one, presumably, that chose the exciting world of food service. That means early mornings and late nights.” 

“You work in a restaurant before?” 

“Just waitressing. And I bartend now.” 

“That’s not nothin’.” 

The unexpected validation makes you smile, and you nod a touch. 

“That’s true,” You concede, “But things are different on the other side of the window.” 

“Where’d you waitress? Here in Chicago?” 

“Uh-huh. At a hole-in-the-wall diner called Benson’s.” 

“On the South Side?” 

“Uh-huh. Menu couldn’t decide if it wanted to be typical American food or pub fare.” 

“Some overlap there.” 

“Yeah, but the food’s gotta be good for that to be pulled off.” 

“Fair point. Best thing on the menu?” 

“Mm…The meatloaf, if the right person was making it.” 

“Worst?” 

“The Shepherd’s Pie, oh my god. It was like glue. Glue with rock-hard pieces of vegetables—on cardboard. Swear to god, you could hold that thing upside down like a meringue and it would just hang there. What about you guys, best and worst.” 

“I can make you the best if you come here.” 

“To the restaurant?” 

“Yeah. Could have the place to ourselves after closing. I wouldn’t kill you here, obviously.” 

“Not obviously,” You scoff a laugh. “Kitchens have a lot of knives. You could stab me and put me in the walk-in.” 

“I value both my knives and my walk-in way too much to do that to you.” 

You can’t help but grin at the bite in the man’s conversation. 

“Alright,” You nod. “When?” 

“Tonight?” 

“I get off of work at, like, four in the morning, so.” “A little late.” 

“Uh-huh, a little. I’m off tomorrow night, though.” 

“Tomorrow, then.” 

“‘Kay. Where should I meet you?”

Tag list: @bobawithpomegranate ; @brandyllyn ; @artemiseamoon ; @amneris21 ; @thinemineours ; @backoff-imreading ; @quietpainter ; @milf-trinity​ ; @distinguishedfilipina ; @peoniarose​

[copperbadge]

Fuck, I’m glad to be home. 

I will say, yesterday’s travel went as smoothly as it possibly could. Austin-Bergstrom Airport was pretty quiet once you got through security, and I’m both an A-List passenger and a Pre-Check passenger, so it took me about a tenth of the time it otherwise would have. 

I dislike spending time in ABIA because there’s not much to do and the food has traditionally been terrible. But a Shake Shack style burger stand just opened there and it’s really good -- up top is the “kids meal”, a quarter pound burger and wedge fries, which ran me seven bucks. I normally don’t like wedge fries but I gotta give them credit, these were gorgeous -- crisp on the outside, soft and fluffy like mashed potatoes on the inside. If you’re in ABIA and want a decent meal, Thurman’s by gate 20 is by far your best bet. 

Midway Airport in Chicago was chaotic but not the nightmare I expected. There were a lot of people sleeping on floors, and you can see the photo I took of part of the baggage claim -- three full claims were roped off and filled with suitcases. Mine came up in the carousel within half an hour, which is longer than Southwest usually takes but still well within tolerance limits. 

And my babies were so happy to see me. Dearborn even slept all night on the bed which she very rarely does. Poor Polkadot couldn’t believe it was me and had to inspect me thoroughly several times, yelling all the while. 

I am so incredibly lucky -- I caught the initial cancellation before I got into the airport, I had a place to stay that night, I was able to rebook for the following day at 10pm and then re-rebook for yesterday at 6pm, and an hour after I re-rebooked, the 10pm was cancelled. The 6pm was the only direct flight that got out of Austin to Chicago yesterday. Some of it was good contingency planning on my part but a lot of it was just...blind goddamn luck, and I’m so grateful.  

[ID: Three images; top image is a paper tray with a hamburger and seasoned wedge fries on it, the burger bun scorched on top, the fries red with paprika and cayenne. Second image shows the edge of a baggage claim area, with a visible cordon in front and bags as far as the eye can see. Third image is Dearborn the tortie and Polk the tabby, both lying on my duvet (which is covering me), Polk gazing dramatically into the distance while Dearborn looks directly at the camera.]

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Merry & Bright"

Part 3 - Family Fun Night

Merry & Bright Masterlist

Rated: Teen

Pairing: Bucky x Steve

Tags: a/b/o, omega Bucky, alpha Steve, kid fic, Karens

Summary: Bucky and Steve go to their daughters' school play.

(If your name is Karen, I'm sorry and sending warm hugs)

Bucky’s been able to ignore the encroaching Holiday season for longer than usual this year. 

Between the warm-ish fall weather and his continuing therapy appointments, the ceaseless calls from his publisher and that guy from Warner Brothers, and the move and the overwhelming demands of a newborn, it’s just hard to believe that it could already be Thanksgiving next week.

Steve’s next text coming through just about drives a bulldozer through that delusion:

Steve: Hey, I’m at the store right now. You want me to pick anything up for this ‘Friendsgiving’-extravaganza? I know Jarvis said he’s got it handled, but I feel like we should have backups for the girls? Just in case Tony’s picked out some sort of weird, avant garde menu? Becs really has her heart set on pumpkin pie. And Sarah, well …

Bucky: You could ask Pepper. I think we’re safe as long as there’s mac ‘n’ cheese and rolls. Anyway we’ve got over a week to sort it out.

Steve: … Babe, today’s Tuesday. We’ve got two days. 

Bucky immediately checks his phone calendar, and sure enough, Thanksgiving is this week, not next. Fuck. 

“Ohshit,” he breathes, eyes bugging out of his head as he realizes that this means tonight is the school play, not next Tuesday. “Fuck. Shit!” In his hands, his phone chimes.

Steve: So, pie?

Bucky texts back a harried ‘yes’, thinking that he’s got to get his butt back to the tower immediately. He very suddenly has only about nine hours before his children need to be fitted with their (as of yet not even near-to-finished) homemade costumes. Becca’s paper mache drumstick still needs spray painted, and Sarah’s supposed to be a scoop of mashed potatoes that Bucky still needs to find something to act as the pat of butter on top.

“Jarvis, help.” Bucky says as he hoofs it back in the direction of the tower. 

 Jarvis’ voice emanates from his phone: “Mr. Rogers. How can I be of assistance?”

Bucky rattles off the craft supplies they’re going to need. “And if you know anyone on Stark’s payroll who’s good with a needle and thread, that wouldn’t hurt either.”

It seems like only yesterday they were dressed up as Buzz and Woody, letting Bo Peep and a very bossy Jessie drag them around from house to house. They’d trick-or-treated in the Cobble Hill neighborhood where they technically don’t live yet but will soon, once the house is finished being refurbished. Bucky had carried Gabe strapped to his front as one of the Little Green Men alien squeaker toy thingies, and Steve had pulled a wagon along for when one or both of the girls inevitably became too tuckered out to—

Anyhow, point is: it feels like they were trick‘or’treating all of two seconds ago.

And now Thanksgiving is in two days? What the everloving fuck?

Bucky spends a very brief amount of time that afternoon being irrationally mad at his husband, as if it’s Steve’s fault that his pregnancy brain has apparently extended into the postpartum period and allowed him to lose track of time. He grumps privately that Steve should’ve somehow magically known that he was mentally operating in the wrong week, and should have thus alerted him that the holiday was imminent! Stupid Steve. What the hell is the alpha good for, anyway?

Later that evening of course, he realizes how ridiculous that is. He comes to terms with the fact that he’s actually upset with himself—partly because of the mad scramble he’s left with to get ready for Coulton-Chestor Preparatory Academy’s family fun night, but even moreso because of the 5k he now has to face up to in less than forty-eight hours. (What real, qualitative difference one more week of jogging in the park was really going to make, Bucky can’t say, but he’d been counting on it to help him work his confidence up about the whole ordeal.)

It’s not like he wouldn’t back out of it if he could, but he absolutely cannot back out. This is the first ever Brooklyn Bridge American Heroes Turkey Trot, co-sponsored by Stark Industries and Barnes Prosthetics (yes, Bucky is the genius who thought it’d be fine and dandy to plan a 5k less than half a year after giving birth). Together, he and Tony have started a foundation for veterans and civilian victims of the regime years, to help provide them access to the high quality, bio-integrative prosthetics that Bucky’s company makes.

Since it’s not exactly cheap to weld a robot arm onto somebody, Bucky and Tony have partnered with Wounded Warrior Project for this charity run; done to raise funds for vets who don’t happen to have a spare ninety grand lying around to fund their surgeries. The limbs themselves are, of course, all provided free of charge by Barnes Prosthetics, and the overall costs are at least somewhat ameliorated by various amenities provided by Stark.

As the visible face of the charity, Bucky’s got no choice: he needs to show up, show off, and show support. He’s expected to be there to make nice with all the other amputees who’ll be running, and to show off how happy and perfect his life is now that he’s got the Asset IV prototype cybernetic implant attached to his body. It is a bitchin’ arm, and Bucky is excited to get to hand one of those gigantic cardboard checks over to the Wounded Warrior guys, but he really, really wishes he’d thought to postpone the Foundation’s first run until next Thanksgiving. 

At least he’ll have Steve there with him, he thinks. His Alpha has promised not to outpace him to any embarrassing degree, Darcy is fine with keeping Gabe until they get back, and Tony has even arranged to have the girls set up for the Macy’s parade with a disgustingly VIP viewing situation on Central Park West. But aside from those few hours on Thanksgiving morning, Bucky’s daughters will remain under his purview for the holidays this year. 

And the hubbub begins with Family Fun Night that evening. 

Bucky alone has to deal with Sarah’s anxiety problems leading up to the curtain call for this stupid fucking school play. “Hold still, Honey,” he begs, speaking past the safety pin he’s got held between his lips as he kneels there and uses both of his hands to try and do a last minute costume fix. “Sarah I said hold still.”

“Fix it daddy, fix it!” 

He’s crouched next to his youngest daughter in the school’s hallway, trying to better secure the pat of “butter” (a folded yellow tea towel) to the top of her not-so-great mashed potato costume. Steve is off somewhere with the drumstick, helping her to not be scared about walking out on stage. “Baby, please. I can’t fix it if you keep moving around,” Bucky growls, but his frustrated tone only makes Sarah get more hysterical about her role in the play being messed up by a floppy tea towel. She starts to cry about how she doesn’t want to do this anymore. 

“Sarah Winnifred, I swear to God, if you don’t hold still, you’re gonna have a new hole poked in your head!”

He and Steve sit proudly in the fourth row back and watch the play that their children’s overpriced prep school is putting on before it lets out for Thanksgiving break.

At the end of the final song, when all of the students are lined up on the stage like a demented paper-mache buffet of human-sized food items, bowing hand in hand, Steve and Bucky rise with all the other parents for a standing ovation, humongous smiles plastered on their faces. Steve tries to do a finger whistle with middling success, then he leans over to Bucky’s ear and cheerfully whispers, “That was so dumb!”

Bucky laughs, still clapping and beaming with absolute pride for his daughters. “Yeah it was friggin’ awful!” 

The curtain falls, and he and Steve exit the auditorium to go backstage and congratulate the girls. A very excited drumstick and mashed potatoes run up and start talking over each other to tell their fathers all about the play that they just performed. “Papa! Daddy! Did you see me?! Did you see my song?!!” 

“What about meee?!”

“Sure did, Becs. You were really good!” 

“The best turkey drumstick ever.”

For being such excellent thespians and to celebrate their acting debut, they present the girls with two foil-wrapped tulips that they bought out in the lobby. Becca especially, seems very proud of her flower, twirling in her drumstick costume and holding it to her nose again and again. Bucky’s smile wavers with emotion as he gets that warm, shot-of-whiskey feeling once again, and he remembers that Life is Good. He catches Steve’s eye from over top of the mashed potatoes, and they share one of those silent “I Love You” moments. Steve shoots him a wink.

It being family fun night, Darcy appears as planned and ushers the girls away to go change back into regular clothes before they head over to the kids’ party in the gymnasium. Meanwhile, Steve and Bucky go to the reception that’s been put together for the parents. Bucky isn’t super keen on attending, but he promised the girls that they could play games with the other kids for at least an hour, so he and Steve make an admirable attempt to mingle amongst the other parents.

Coulton-Chestor Preparatory Academy is an exclusive elementary school on the Upper East Side. Due to its sheer proximity to Stark Tower, and since bussing the girls all the way to Brooklyn for an entire year would’ve been too much of a hassle, Steve and Bucky chose to enroll them there. It’s only temporary, until the renovations on the Cobble Hill house are complete and they’re able to move back to Brooklyn. Bucky is looking forward to being able to walk his children the two picturesque blocks between their house and the neighborhood school each day.

But until then, it’s the more snobbish parents and overzealous PTA moms of Coulton-Chestor that he has to navigate at functions such as tonight’s. Bucky’s been taking some time off work ever since things got very pregnant-and-miserable in about month eight, but he still considers himself a working father, and as such there is an awkward disconnect between him and the more … involved stay-at-home parents who surround him at the reception.

At least there are hors d’oeuvres and cocktails, which give him something to do with his hands. Steve starts chatting with a few of the parents who are running the silent auction, and Bucky avoids getting drawn into bidding on overpriced theater tickets by heading over to the refreshments table. He’s just finished loading up on a bunch of mini quiches and cocktail weenies, when the one person he’d hoped to fully avoid at this function makes her attack. Bucky turns around with his little plate of foot and startles as he’s suddenly faced with a familiar, blonde-haired woman. 

“James!” She’s got a tea-length dress, an overly-whitened smile, and a ponytail that’s been curled to within an inch of its life. It’s Karen.

(No, her name is literally Karen.)

And in Bucky’s limited experience with her, she has an uncanny ability to make every social interaction the exact opposite of what Bucky would like it to be. It’s just a gift some people have.

She swoops in with two other omega parents by her sides, introducing them as “Jill” and “Nate.” Bucky plasters on a smile to match hers while she air kisses his cheeks in that way that rich people who think they’re cultured always do.

“You made it,” she coos, acting pleased to see him. In all fairness, she might be. Bucky’s never point blank told the woman that he finds her insufferable, and she always seems to make a beeline for the more well-to-do parents. Ever since she found out that Bucky and Steve not only rub shoulders with Tony Stark, but are actually living with him, she’s been eager to make Bucky one of her besties. “It’s been too long. How are you, darling?”

“Oh, you know,” Bucky says, gesturing with his plate of cocktail weenies. “Hanging in there.”

“And how is that gorgeous new baby of yours doing?” she asks, nudging Jill to announce, “James is married to Commander Rogers. They have three children.”

Jill and Nate make a polite fuss over that, while Bucky tries to act gracious and think of a way to correct Karen that “Commander” isn’t Steve’s title, and if he ever hears her referring to him as such, he’ll be offended. “How is your family doing?” Bucky asks, more to get the topic off himself rather than due to any real interest. 

Like most of the Coulton-Chestor moms, Karen is married to a well-to-do Alpha, has precisely one child, and spends her time trying to climb as high in Manhattan “Mommy” society as possible. Having a living child at all is automatically a foot up in terms of social standing, Bucky’s learned, and the moms of Park Avenue lord their accomplishments higher than most. Most times Bucky’s met her, Karen’s been wearing diamond solitaires with designer workout clothes and brandishing her own fertility like a damn merit badge. 

Karen brags about her son for a few minutes, and when it seems like everyone in their small group is necessitated to take a turn with regards to their own offspring, Bucky throws some random fact out about how the girls have been doing. Jill and Nate start gushing over Bucky’s grand accomplishment of having three kids, which is practically unheard of. 

“You must be so proud. How lucky to have three healthy children!”

“What were yours in the play?” Jill asks, and she seems friendly enough so Bucky makes an effort to tell her about how he’s responsible for the turkey leg and the mashed potatoes. She giggles and nods and says her son was one of the pumpkins.

“Oh, ha, yeah. They had quite the little dance routine, didn’t they?” 

Bucky’s smile turns annoyed when Karen feels the need to point out, “Yes! And your little Rebecca kept up alright, didn’t she? She seemed able to follow along with the other kids quite well!”

“Yes,” Bucky says peevishly. “She’s very talented.” 

“Isn’t it wonderful here? I just love how inclusive Coulton-Chestor is,” Karen simpers. She turns to the other moms and starts telling them about how Becca is in her son’s “regular” class, and how she’s always so sweet, and so helpful to the other students. She talks about Becca like she’s a little mascot, or a class pet, and it rankles Bucky’s nerve to no end.

Since the fertility crisis began, there’s been more stigma placed on children with any sorts of disabilities, and Bucky’s had to deal with a lot of thinly-veiled prejudice due to his daughter’s special needs ever since he started advocating to get her into the same high-quality school programs as Sarah. The public school system still hasn’t recovered, and with limited slots available in all childcare-related fields these days, people are more ruthlessly competitive for their children than ever before. 

“Yes, we like it here,” Bucky agrees. “Though we’ll be switching to a different school next year, when we move to the new house over in Brooklyn.”

“You’re not leaving The Tower?” Karen gasps, as if that’s the most horrible, ludicrous decision. Given that she makes it sound like Bucky and his family are choosing to move out of friggin’ Buckingham Palace, Nate and Jill predictably get curious and ask:

“The ‘Tower’?”

“Stark Tower,” Karen chirps, excited to tell the other two omegas, “James and his husband live there.”

 Nate’s eyebrows go up. “They live there. In the tower?”

“Oh yes! Didn’t you know? Why, they’re friends with the Starks.”

“Really? Oh, I’ve heard such good things about that Pepper Potts,” Jill gushes. “Seems like a lovely woman. How do you know her?”

Bucky smiles, pained. “Actually I knew Tony first. We work together.”

“You work?” Nate sneers. Bucky ignores him. 

“Yeah, I met Tony back during the, ah … well, during the regime years.”

“Gilead? Oh. Huh.”

(“Wonder what the Starks were doing, back then? Were they married then?”

“You never do hear what celebrities got up to during all that, do you?”

“No, you never do.”)

Bucky hums, not intending to get into a conversation about it, but Karen forces his hand by volunteering, “Wasn’t that all in your book though, James?” 

“Um,”

Karen enthusiastically tells the others, “He was one of those resistance fighters, can you believe it? That’s how he lost his arm.” (Everybody’s eyes not-so-surreptitiously fly to where Bucky’s left hand is sticking out of his sweater, holding onto the plate of hors d'oeuvres.) “And he was a vessel. His husband was one of the commanders down in Washington. That’s where they met!”

“Really?”

“Steve wasn’t a real commander …” Bucky hedges.

“Oh he wrote a whole book about it! You really must read it.” Karen rattles off the title and both Nate and Jill make sounds of recognition. 

“Ooh. You know, I’ve heard of that book.”

“Great,” Bucky mutters. He has to smile along politely and answer them as they start asking him fascinated questions, with Karen supplying details every time he tries to demure and change the topic to something less sensational. 

“He’s just being modest!” she simpers, laying her hand on Bucky’s arm in an overly familiar way. “James, tell them about how you were on the View.”

Bucky reluctantly does, and Jill and Nate nod along, enthused to hear about how he’s been on television and met the hosts of the show. “It really wasn’t all that exciting,” Bucky insists. “I wasn’t the main guest. They had, you know, real celebrities that went after me. Reese Witherspoon and stuff.”

“You met Reese Witherspoon?”

“No, no. I didn’t. I was only there for like, two minutes. It wasn’t even important.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Karen prods smugly. “A little birdy told me that Netflix was trying to buy up the film rights to your book.”

Bucky doesn’t even care, he openly shoots her a withering glare this time. “I can assure you that’s not true.” (It’s HBO, and it isn’t Bucky’s fault if she doesn’t have her details right.) 

Karen continues to gab to the other two parents about it anyway, insisting that some omega heartthrob actor whom Bucky has never heard of would be the ideal casting choice to portray him in the film version of his book. “And Chris Hemsworth. Oh! Wouldn’t he just be perfect to play your Steve?”

“Nobody’s making a movie out of it!” Bucky snaps, fed up with her incessant gossiping. “It’s not happening.” He looks around awkwardly at the end of his outburst, aware of Nate and Jill’s surprised expressions. “Um, I just mean: the studios were shopping around,” he mutters. “But I said no.” 

Of course this is very disappointing to Karen, and she tries to tell Bucky what a mistake that is, talking about how interested everybody would be in the subject matter. “I just saw an episode of the Dr. Phil show where they were talking about it,” she says. “They had wives and some of those vessels on. Even a commander.”

Bucky hums dispassionately. “Sounds like trash tv to me.” He’ll be damned if he lets Karen know he was asked onto that program as well. “Just people trying to make a spectacle out of it.”

Karen titters awkwardly and agrees, but Bucky can tell that she’s annoyed at him for shutting her gossip down. “Well, it’s all very controversial, of course,” she excuses. “And a commitment like that would just be so much more on your plate.”

Bucky nods, glad that she’s dropping it. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“After all, you’re already a working mother,” she says, saying ‘working’ all hurriedly and quietly, as if it’s something not to be mentioned. “I’m sure you just want to focus on your family, now. With the new baby and all.” 

“Congratulations,” Jill gushes. “Did you have a boy or a girl?”

“A boy. Gabe. He just turned four months old last week.”

“Oh, how wonderful.”

“Another omega for your family?”

“No, Karen,” Bucky says, annoyance audible in his voice. “We haven’t had him tested. We’re just going to wait and find out the old fashioned way.”

“Oh. I see.”

They all seem taken aback, because it’s very rare for a newborn not to be tested for designation these days. Much to Bucky’s chagrin, gender roles only seem to be becoming more emphasized than ever. Jill chuckles awkwardly and tries to lighten the mood. “Well, that’s so progressive of you. Dan had our little Archie in an alpha playgroup by the time he could crawl, I swear.”

They all titter over that, and Bucky tries to scan the room for any sight of Steve without being too obvious in what he’s doing. He spots him over by the punch bowl. “Um, I’m sorry,” he excuses. “I think I see my husband calling me.” He starts to make his escape, but Karen grabs him just as he’s turning.

“Oh, James, wait! We wanted to ask if you’d help us plan the Winter Gala.”

“Oh, I uh.”

“We’re going to have the children do a nativity scene. And I was thinking a candlelight service. Wouldn’t that just be picturesque?”

Bucky makes a face. “Sorry, Karen. My family isn’t very religious.”

“Oh, no but it’ll be interdenominational!” she insists with a big grin. “You celebrate Christmas, of course!”

“No.”

“... No?” 

“Not really,” Bucky grunts. “I mean, we do a tree and a menorah and all that, but ..."

“Menorah?” she says, and the way she squinches her eyes sets Bucky’s nerves on edge. “You’re not Jewish?”

Bucky pulls his arm back to himself. “Culturally, yes. Steve’s family is Catholic, mine’s Jewish. But we’ve decided that organized religion isn’t what’s right for our family.”

“Oh! But you can still come to the church service!” Karen says brightly. “It’ll be—”

“We’re not religious,” Bucky blurts out, sick of stepping around the issue and having lost his patience. He’s tired of politely fielding other people’s invitations for him and his husband and children to come and check out ‘this congregation’ or that, and figures he’ll just squash any chance there might be of him actually getting roped into planning holiday festivities with the Coulton-Chestor evangelical set. “We’re pretty much raising the girls Atheist,” he tells Karen, watching as her smile flickers like a bulb hanging on by its very last filament. He feels a degree of nasty satisfaction at having perturbed her. 

Disturbingly, the Christian Right has continued to grow in popularity—culturally, if not politically—these past few years, and Bucky has very little tolerance for it (he tried to show tolerance before the regime, and look how that ended up). He knows his family is in the minority, and it’s very apparent how this information makes the friendly light in even Nate and Jill’s eyes dim somewhat.

“I’m sure you’ll plan something great, though,” he excuses brightly, turning around to go and find Steve and see if it isn’t too early to make their escape. “It was nice catching up!”

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

This has been a fill for:

@steverogersbingo

Card: SB3088 || stark-contrast

Square D3: Slice of Life

@marvel-smash-bingo

Card: sarah-writes-stucky

Square I5: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

@stuckyversebingo

Card: sarahyellow / sarah-writes-stucky

Square C4: alpha/omega relationship

[retrobr]

Lazytown Shenanigans Pt. 6

Yesterday I completely forgot to write a new post and only remembered to do it now... But we're back, dear people, and this time I'll ramble about only one episode: "The Last SportsCandy."

This time I took a couple of screenshots because one person asked me to do it, so that you understand what I'm talking about in some parts of this post 🙏

Well, let's begin!

"The Last SportsCandy."

The episode started with Robbie searching for Sportacus and wanting to feed him a sugar apple once again. Well, what can I say, the simp is simping as always, good for him /hj

But these dorks weren't the most important part of the episode, since, oh my god, there was something more interesting than that (I'm surprising myself a little by saying that to be honest), because the episode in general really was interesting to watch for me.

Before I get to the most exciting part of the episode, I want to point out that the scene in which Meanswell threw a sack at Stingy and made him shut up brought me a different kind of joy. 😈

Ok well, let's talk about the key part of the episode, finally. I should declare that Robbie is a fucking genius for making a time travel machine. I can't even imagine how he knew the mechanics of time travel and was able to make this idea a reality. And all that time travel concept is SO FREAKING AMAZING in my opinion, because we got to see some more different locations and even new characters once again!!

First of all, I will touch on the topic of the 1950s location. GUYS. THE WAY I GASPED WHEN I SAW THIS.

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THOSE VIBES OF THE 50-80S' AND THIS SCENE MADE ME SO GIDDY AND HAPPY AND-

AND WAIT WAIT OMG IS THAT A REAL JOHNNY B??? I MEAN THIS GUY'S OUTFIT LOOKS IDENTICAL TO JOHNNY'S AND WELL. I THINK YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN (if that's really him I'm going to cry out of joy, one of my favorite characters got some more screentime 😭)

And I am genuinely interested to know who these guys are. I sat for a long time, racking my head, trying to figure out who these guys were, but I had no idea. Maybe that's some of Lazytown's citizens who used to live there?..

(if they are not some canonical characters, I should make that blonde girl one of my original characters-)

Let's move on to the time when Johnny SportsCandyseed used to live (unfortunately I didn't remember the exact year, my apologies). OH MY GOD I REALLY LOVED THAT ONE AS WELL. I loved the monochromatic image of this time very much

AND GOOD LORD. ROBBIE'S — or, to be more precise, that Robbie version's — OUTFIT. JUST TAKE A LOOK (I also attached a clearer version; it's saved on my phone for some reason, and I don't remember where I found it)

It gives me the Wild West vibes, like really bad. If you guys follow me because of my NatM stuff, you know for sure how much I'm fond of those cowboy and Wild West themes, and Robbie's outfit kinda looks like it.

Also I'm really interested in knowing who this guy on the left is (maybe I'm just stupid and they said who he is in the episode, but I have no idea tbh)

At first I thought they were both some kind of odd version of Robbie and Sportacus (because the guy on the left looks somewhat like Robbie and Johnny's voice sounds very similar to Sportacus' to my hearing), although that's not true lol. I'm just silly

But I should say that Johnny is probably my new favorite Lazytown character. He is such a silly and goofy man, I'm not sure why but I really like him 🥺💜

I think that's all I wanted to say about the time-traveling part. Also I may be mistaken, but Robbie's "Oops, I did it again" line from the song was a reference to Britney Spears' song. You can hit me baby one more time on my head if I'm wrong guys, I don't mind /j

In the final part of this rambling I would like to say that I was so fucking amused at the rescue scene; the way Sportacus dropped Robbie like a sack of potatoes (while he was in a literal sack) CRACKED ME UP, WHAT WAS THAT 😭😭

In general, I quite liked that episode, mostly because of the aforementioned new characters and locations. It was very well done and shown, and because of that I can say that this episode borders on being my favorite 🤓👍

Thank you guys for your attention, as always. Have a good day 💜

[oathkeeperoxas]

Wip Wednesday

Giving omega Ice a good/bad time in today's snippet. As I tend to do 🥰 Also far too long a scene, but you know. I cannot shut up!

“You should go,” Ice makes himself say. “Especially if you need to go back to yours and change.”

“Yeah,” Mav says. “Okay.” He kisses Ice again. “Any requests for dinner?” 

Like Ice could give a single fuck about that right now. “I’ll cook,” he says, insanely, because he never cooks while in heat. 

“Yeah?” Mav asks, looking happy about it. Ice kisses him again, licking over his lips, enjoying the slide of their tongues… 

“Sure,” Ice says. “Maybe stop by the shops and grab some eggs. And pasta.” 

“Can do,” Mav agrees easily. “Okay, yeah, see you then.”

Ice follows him to the door, and makes himself stay inside. Mav lifts a hand as he gets on his bike, and peels down the road with a low rumble. Ice watches him out the window, and then leans against the wall, suddenly sweaty and feeling every tacky spot where he and Mav left the evidence of their coupling on him. 

He nearly runs to his bathroom, yanking off clothes and hopping on foot to foot as his shower blasts ice cold water at him. He’s learned that sometimes hot water is a luxury that can’t be had, but when he tries to stick a hand under the spray it feels like he’s plunged it into the Antarctic waters. Nope, nope, nope, not happening. He scratches along his skin while he’s waiting, trying to feel less like he needs to rub up against a wall or something while he waits. 

The water finally turns tepid, and he groans as he gets in, scrubbing himself down. The soap he normally uses is sharp and bitter against his nose, and he scrunches his face up and turns away from it. The stupid dollar store apple scented shampoo that Mav uses would be perfect right about now. Mav would be perfect right about now. He pauses in the middle of picking dried come off his thighs to think about how it had gotten there. Mav, heavy, demanding, taking… 

He shudders. The long, long hours between now and when Mav will come home suddenly seem insurmountable. Why had Mav left? They’ve been together for half a year, Ice had told him that he wanted to spend their heats together… He blinks slowly. The water is turning icy again, and he swears as he tries to get the rest of it off of him. He does a passable job, and then grumbles as he scrapes what remains off with his towel. 

He throws that and his clothes in the washing machine, and then stares at it when it starts. He keeps his place clean, but there’s barely any food here. The back of his neck itches as he pads through his house quietly to the kitchen. There isn’t a lot of food here – protein snacks, one lonely egg, two apples, a few bits and pieces that he can make a meal from if he’s too lazy to go and get food elsewhere. He eats one apple, thinking. He has no desire to leave the house, but he also doesn’t really have enough food. He should have gone shopping yesterday. He’d been thinking about it, but then Mav had distracted him, and then it had been late. 

Shit. He has to call in. His stomach twists when he thinks about telling this to Viper, but it’s fine. Alphas have heats too. This is normal. This happens every day. He dials the base, checking the time. Viper picks up, thank God. Ice tells him, tone completely emotionless and flat, that he’ll need heat leave for the week. Viper says it’s fine, and that he’ll see him next Monday. Ice hangs up and puts his head in his hands. That wasn’t so bad. 

Duty to his job done, he cleans his kitchen, so that he has a neat and orderly place to take stock of his food options. Some dried pasta, but not the type that Mav likes. Mav’ll probably get that tonight, so that’s fine. Some cans of soup, beans, peas. He could make a roast. But he doesn’t have any potatoes. Or anything to roast. Groaning, he digs his palms into his eyes. Shit. He’s gotta feed Mav. Can’t expect him to come over and bring all the food. 

Solutions. Very reluctantly, Ice dials the only other person he trusts with this who is in a twenty mile radius. 

“Hello? Bradshaw residence.”

“Carole,” Ice says. A trickle of sweat down his spine. “Can I ask a favour?”

“Tom?” Carole asks. “Are you okay? Why are you calling? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I’m fine,” he grits out. “In heat. Can you go shopping for me.”

A pause at the other end of the line. Shit. This was a bad idea. This was – you asked your family to do stuff like this for you. But Sarah is in New York. He doesn’t have anyone else to call.  

“Of course,” she says, and Ice blows out a breath. 

“I have–cash. And a list. Whenever you’re free. If it’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” Carole says. “Now, how about you sit tight, I’ll drop Bradley off at school, and come over to get the money and the list. Sound alright?”

“Yeah.” Sweat makes his hands slip on the phone. “Yeah, that’s–that’s fine.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Ice stares at the phone after he hangs up. He should probably… put some clothes on. And double check the list. And the cash. He goes through the contents of his kitchen again. He shouldn’t ask Carole to do more than one run for him, so he needs to plan out the week. Dinner tonight, breakfast tomorrow, and dinner tomorrow… Mav needs food for lunch too. Anxiety grips him. He sent Mav off without any food today. Stupid, idiot – it’s fine. Mav went home, probably slapped together a sandwich while he was changing. Ice breathes out. But if he doesn’t go home tomorrow, Ice needs to make sure he’s fed. 

Yes. Feeding Mav, showing that Ice can make food for him, good food… his head buzzes a little bit as he adds to his list. It ends up being long. Maybe that’s good, he can tell Carole not to worry if there’s something not in stock at the shops. He’s still wearing nothing, so he puts on some sweatpants. He’s sweaty and itchy and even the usually soft fabric feels rough against his skin. He can’t stand the thought of wearing a shirt. 

He scrounges up all the cash he has on hand, separates out the ones and fives, and puts the rest in a pile next to the list. That should cover it. He checks the time. Forty three minutes since he called Carole. She should have dropped the kid off at school by now… Would she come here directly after? Surely. She said she would see him soon. He paces around the house, getting out all his bedding to distract himself, but then he’s caught up in throwing it in the wash, because it smells all musty… He hasn’t used it since last year’s heat. 

There’s a knock on his door just as he puts the washing on, and he goes out to find Carole on his front porch, dressed in her work gear. 

“Do you need to get to work?” he asks stupidly. 

“I asked Denise to cover for me for an hour,” Carole says. “Oh, Tom, you look terrible. Where’s your nest? Can I come in?” 

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Ice mutters, embarrassment staining the back of his neck. “I, uh, haven’t built a nest yet.” Shit, shit, Mav is going to expect to see one– “I’ve got some stuff in the wash now to make sure it’s all clean. Will be ready to go after it dries.”

Carole gives him an odd look. Her calm floral scent is flavouring the air, and Ice finds himself relaxing in the face of it. Carole isn’t from work, Carole isn’t related to him, Carole is an omega… It’s okay if she sees him like this. They’ve known each other for a while now. Ice and Mav hosted Bradley at their places earlier in the year when Carole had her heat. This is normal.

“You took your whole nest up to wash it? That’s more effort than I normally put in,” Carole chuckles. “Now, where’s the list? Here?” 

Ice nods, because he doesn’t know how to say that he doesn’t keep a nest regularly. Just builds one for his heat, when the urge gnaws into him to become undeniable. He’s seen Carole’s nest, once. She has one all the time. Ice knows that most omegas do. Bitterness rises in his throat for a moment before he swallows it. It’s different. He’s different. He knows that, and it won’t help anyone to take it out on Carole.

“Yeah,” he manages. “And some cash to cover it, just take it all.”

“Oh, this is too much,” Carole fusses. 

“Please,” Ice says. “Just… please.”

She looks up at him, before tucking the list and the cash into her handbag. “Fine. But I’m bringing you all the change.”

“Sure,” he says. “Sure, that sounds like a plan.” And he’s certain he won’t get her to accept any of it anyway. He and Mav send her money every month when they get paid, and that had been difficult enough to get her to accept. 

“I’ll try to be quick, though… there was a lot there.” She looks at him, curious.

“I should have gone shopping yesterday,” he mutters. “Don’t worry if you can’t find anything. I’ve still got some stuff here, so I won’t starve anyway, just…” He just wouldn’t be able to cook for Mav. 

“Alright,” Carole says easily. “I’ll go, and be back soon.”

“Thank you,” Ice says, following her to the door. “I appreciate it.”

She shakes a hand at him. “Don’t you worry about that, Tom Kazansky. I take care of my own.” And she’s gone. 

Ice stares at the door. He didn’t know that he counted as one of Carole’s own. Protectiveness rises in his breast. They’re family, he’s taken care of her in her heat, she’s taking care of him… he sees Bradley pretty much every weekend, picks him up from school… 

He wishes he had something of hers to put in the nest. But he doesn’t even have anything from Mav, he barely has anything from himself – it’s fine. He can make one without it. He strips his bed, puts on the spare set of sheets, and starts collecting cushions from throughout the house. There’s one on every seat, which makes them all look normal and in place, until he picks them all up and can pile them on his bed. He’s nervous about what this looks like, suddenly. He normally doesn’t really care, but normally it’s only him seeing this, if he even bothers to do this at all. Carole probably tweaks her nest constantly… she probably has the perfect set up long discovered. He’s only been able to see his mother’s nest up close, and that was always so open, with gifts from her family in it to make it comfortable. He’s never even seen Sarah’s nest. What if this isn’t the right way to do it? What if Mav doesn’t like it–

The idea haunts him as he searches through the house for anything that he might want and has forgotten. He needs to find something to do until Carole gets here. He ditches half his pillows and then switches them out twice. The washing finishes and he switches it to the drier. His fingers itch. He rearranges the kitchen. He keeps things around here clean enough, but he starts scrubbing out his cooking implements. He’ll need them to be clean if he’s going to cook for Mav. 

He’s drying the third batch of kitchenware when his door opens. He spins, a spatula in his hand, lip lifting as a snarl builds in his throat at whoever thought it was a good idea to barge in unannounced–

“You’d better come help me with this shopping, Thomas!” 

Ice swallows his growl with pure force of will. “Carole,” he says, voice rumbling. She dumps two bags on his counter and meets his eyes, putting her hands on her hips. 

“Now, don’t give me that look,” she says, fishing cash out of her handbag and slapping it down. “There’s your change. Now, come on.” 

Ice begrudgingly follows her outside, squinting into the sun. His driveway is hot against his bare feet as he hurries to Carole’s car and grabs as many bags as he can, unwilling to be outside for any longer than he has to. Most of the houses around here are military so everyone will be at work; except for those that are married. Bile burns at the base of his throat. That’s probably not the best thing to be thinking about right now. 

“Now that’s just showing off,” Carole says, picking up the last bag and following him inside. “I know it’s not quite my business, but are you hosting someone, dear?” 

Ice feels a flush on his neck, and doesn’t meet her eyes. “Uh,” he says. 

Carole laughs. “Interesting, interesting! You know my gossip is fairly limited these days…” She lifts an eyebrow. Ice pretends not to see it as he starts spilling supplies out onto his counter, which is already full of various random kitchen implements. He’d bought a pasta strainer when he’d moved in, but whoever had last lived here had left behind more random shit than he’d known what to do with. They’d certainly been fond of ordering from infomercials, that’s for sure. He shoves it all to the side. 

“I’m not telling you anything,” Ice grumbles. 

“Not even a hint?” Carole asks sweetly. He sends her a grumpy look. She smiles. “Oh, I see. Well, that just gives me more room to imagine a torrid romance for you.” 

“What,” Ice splutters. 

“My dear, I have to think about something during my dreary work hours.”

Ice unpacks faster so he’ll have an excuse for why he doesn’t respond.

Carole hugs him before she leaves. Ice presses his nose against her hair and breathes in her soothing scent. Carole has never worn scent suppressors, and he’s familiar with her natural scent, and it’s calming. Another omega, who is a part of his family, maybe, even… Supporting him, helping him, strengthening ties with him. He holds her a little closer. 

Carole purrs against him quietly. At least he’s gotten some practice from Mav with scent marking, so he doesn’t embarrass himself by fumbling too much when Carole offers her cheek up to him. She’s shorter than Mav, so he has to lean down further to rub their cheeks together. 

“Have fun,” she murmurs, and Ice clears his throat. 

“Drive safely,” he tells her. 

“Always,” she promises. “And remember, this means you get to return the favour next year!” 

Ice closes the door after her and sighs. He appreciates the distraction, but double checking the clock only tells him that it’s not even eleven in the morning yet. 

He can fill the time. He can make a task list. He puts away all the shopping, checking off his list as he goes – Carole had put it on top of the change, a neat check mark next to what she had picked up. He double checks everything, putting it away as he does. This is more food than he’s had in this house for the entire time that he’s lived here. It’s a little daunting to see it all stacked into his cupboard like this. 

Focus. He puts all his appliances away, he puts all his food away, then makes himself a sandwich because he’s got the ingredients even if he’s not even hungry. He knows he needs to eat, so he chews angrily and drinks some water angrily and then pulls everything out of the drier. 

Finally. Everything is at his fingertips. He gets to work. 

[kenni33]

Kismet incorrect quotes

Boom: Trickee's refusing to wear their glasses!

Trickee: Boom, look, I wore the glasses for a day. My eyes are much better now. Watch.

Trickee: *points to Branch* Branch.

Trickee: *points to hype*hype

Trickee: *points to ablaze* Sasquatch.

——————

Branch: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

Boom: Several traffic violations.

Ablaze: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Trickee: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.

Hype: Also, that’s not our car.

——————

Boom: What’s something you guys are better than branch at?

Hype: Mario Kart.

Trickee: Yeah, video games.

Ablaze : Emotional vulnerability.

——————

Trickee: So oxygen went on a date with potassium, it went... OK.

Ablaze : I thought oxygen was dating magnesium, OMG.

Trickee: Actually oxygen first asked nitrogen out, but nitrogen was all like NO.

Boom: I thought oxygen had that double bond with the hydrogen twins.

Hype: Looks like someone's a HO.

Ablaze : NaBrO.

Branch: I'm done with all of you!

——————

Ablaze : What do you do when someone offers you drugs?

Hype: Take them!

Trickee: Punch them in the neck!

Branch: Say thank you!

Boom: Offer them more drugs to assert dominance!

Ablaze : …

Ablaze : No.

——————

Trickee: How would you like your pancakes?

Hype: Plain.

Ablaze : With sprinkles!

Boom: Chocolate chips.

Branch: Potatoes.

*Hype, Ablaze , and Boom look at Branch*

Branch: What? They're good.

——————

Trickee: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff.

Hype: I witnessed the dumb stuff.

Boom: I recorded the dumb stuff.

Ablaze: I joined you in the dumb stuff.

Branch: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!

——————

Hype: What scares you guys the most?

Trickee: Werewolves!

Boom: Sharks.

Branch: The unstoppable marching of time that is slowly guiding us all towards an inevitable death.

Ablaze :

Ablaze : Branch.

——————

Boom: Does everyone know their job for today?

Ablaze : Water the flowers.

Hype: Vacuum the carpet.

Trickee: Wash the dishes.

Branch: Pretend to be a wolverine.

Boom: Close enough.

——————

Branch: I swear to god I'm the only one here with a braincell.

Trickee, Hype, Ablaze , and Boom: ALL HAIL the keeper of the sacred braincell!

——————

Boom: Are oranges named orange because oranges are orange or is orange called orange because oranges are orange?

Branch: Which came first, the orange or the orange?

Ablaze : Orange was first used to refer the fruit 1280 years ago but was not used as a color until 1000 years ago.

Trickee: What was the color called before then?

Hype: There was no color, duh! Everything was black and white!

——————

Trickee: I truly hate it here <3

Boom: Now replace “it” with “women”. Not so funny now, is it?

Ablaze : Now replace “it” with “women”. Not so funny now, is women?

Hype: Now replace “funny” with “women”. Not so women now, is funny?

Branch: I’m having a fucking stroke.

Ablaze : Now replace “stroke” with “baby”. Congratulations!

——————

Boom: What does “take out” mean?

Hype: Food.

Branch: Dating.

Ablaze : Murder.

Trickee: It can be all three if you’re brave enough.

——————

Hype: Trickee, I know you snuck out to see ablaze last night.

Trickee: If you tell Branch or Boom, I swear I’ll murder you, and they’ll never find the body.

Hype : Five bucks?

Trickee: Fine.

——————

Boom: Hey, how did my phone break?

Trickee: You were drunk yesterday.

Boom: And?

Hype: You threw it.

Boom: Why?

Branch: You turned on airplane mode and kept screaming “FLY DAMN YOU!”

Boom: And why didn’t you stop me?!

Ablaze : We were busy laughing our asses off.

——————

Branch: *visiting kismet* Hello, I just came to-

Branch: *sees Trickee shoving Boom into the washing machine while Hype records and Ablaze watches*

Branch: *retreating* Something suddenly came up.

——————

Trickee: Plants have feelings too?! What is this? Now I can't have food!

Ablaze : You can eat a rock.

Hype: Air.

Boom: The fabric of time and space.

Branch: Chugging a bottle of bleach can solve all your problems.

Trickee: You guys are not helpful.

——————

Ablaze : What state do you live in?

Branch: Constant anxiety.

Boom: Denial.

Trickee: Perfection.

Hype: NEW YORK!

——————

Ablaze : Trickee is late again.

Boom: How did this happen? I called them at 8 o’clock this morning and pretended it was 11.

Hype: I printed up a fake schedule for them saying we were starting at 9 instead of noon.

Branch: I set their clock to say PM when it’s really AM.

Ablaze : Oh boy. We may have overdone it.

*Trickee bursts through the door*

Trickee: WHAT TIME IS IT?

——————

Branch: You’re a loose cannon, Ablaze .

Ablaze : No, I’m not. I’m a cannon, maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?

Trickee: I think you play by your own rules.

Boom: No way, they think rules were made to be broken.

Branch: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.

Ablaze : No, I’m just a reckless renegade. Hype is a loose cannon.

Hype: *smashes a chair* Aah! You shut your trap, Ablaze !

Boom: I’d say Hype’s more of a cop on the edge with nothing to lose. That’s an entirely different thing.

Trickee: Now I’m just confused. Is Ablaze a loose cannon or not?

Branch: All right, put on a pot of coffee. We’re gonna get to the bottom of this.

Ablaze : *groans*

Hype: Aw, man.

——————

Branch: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be?

Boom: Maybe a bit tipsy?

Hype: Drunk.

Ablaze : Wasted.

Trickee: Dead.

——————

*The gang's thoughts on stabbing*

Hype: Would never stab anyone.

Trickee: Would stab someone in retaliation.

Boom: Yells "I won't hesitate, bitch!" first.

Ablaze:Would stab without warning.

Branch: Would stab as a warning.

——————

That’s all of them 👍