#lasagna never unless its cut up

[icehot13]

The dedication with which my husband remembers which pastas are on the Approved Pasta List 😍

[liyawritesss]

ahh so ik you’re writing that thing for midoriya rn👀 but i’m too lazy to write this for myself and i just KNOWWW you’ve got great taste in food based on the bourbon chicken so could you write like cooking with them hcs for whoever you wanted 🥺👉👈

MHA Boys & Cooking Soul Food w/ Their S/O

Now you KNOW I was tripping that night why'd you bring up the bourbon chicken again 😭😭😭😭

Okay but cooking Soul Food with the boys could either end cutely or as a horrible disaster, and we all know the chaos they bring with them.

For this I'll be writing for Bakugo, Midoriya, Todoroki, Hawks, and Shinsou. If requested I can do more! And for the sake of time they're gonna be a bit short.

Warnings: fem!black/poc!reader, cursing, aizawa feature, angry cooking oil, domestic fluff

Bakugo Katsuki

He knows his way around the kitchen so he'll prove helpful when cooking

You have to tell him that cooking Japanese food is different from American soul food

He watches you pull out a small book of recipes and he's like "wtf why do you need that" cuz in most Asian countries they don't measure ingredients, they just dump the shit In and hope for the best

You tell him that soul food is a hit or miss kind of thing, kind of like how ppl cook in Asian countries, but if you wanna hit it on the dot, you need to be precise with the ingredients of your dish.

Plus, not everyone makes soul food the same way, so the way your parents made it could be different from the way your aunt made it, or your grandma. You add your own flare to it down the generations.

You start with some simple dishes like baked macaroni, cried chicken, etc

At first he gets frustrated bc it's his first time cooking something not Japanese so its all new to him

But after you encourage him to keep trying he gets the hand of it.

After a few times of cooking with you, he'll be close to a pro at it.

Still doesn't like to follow the recipes directions bc they don't make much sense for him, but will do it anyway for your sake

Almost always gets popped by the cooking oil when frying chicken

"Shitfuckdamnitwhy'dthathavetohurtlikethat!!!" He says through gritted teeth

You now have an inside joke about how fried chicken doesn't like him

Midoriya Izuku

Broccoli boy loves watching you cook, especially when its something you love

He hears you jamming in the kitchen and knows that you're making soul food

He once went with you to the market and remembered searching for smoked meat for like an hour

Lowkey feels bad sometimes that you can't always cook the food that reminds you of your roots

Won't pester you about helping unless you offer, he knows that it's a pretty meticulous process

However if you want him to cook with you, expect lots of questions

"How come there's so many eggs that go in the macorni?"

"Its macaroni, babe."

"Is the egg batter for the chicken needed?"

"Yeah, it makes the chicken crisper."

Does he have a secret notebook of soul food recipes that he studies so that he can one day make you a soul food meal?

Abso-fucking-lutely.

He does such a good job every time so you give him kisses as a reward

Todoroki Shouto

Is a bit too hesitant to step into the kitchen when you're cooking

1) for obvious reasons

2) he figures that its something sacred so he doesn't want to bother

Is completely content with watching you cook and letting his mouth water from the amazing smell

If you ask him to cook with you, he's going to wait for you to give him directions on what to do

He doesn't wanna mess anything up

Out of consideration you keep him away from the stove, have him on the counter cutting, slicing, dicing ingredients or layering the macaroni or lasagna

Finds it oddly therapeutic and will sometimes stare as his way of asking can he help.

"I've never really cooked before, but with you it's very calming and therapeutic. I enjoy it a lot."

There are times where in the middle of cooking you'll just share long hugs and hold eachother because memories 🥺

Hawks (Takami Keigo)

Omg you made fried chicken ONCE and this mf damn near stops ordering takeout

Like mans falls in LOVE with that friend chicken.

Begs to be in the kitchen while you cook, saying that he can be of use

But babies big wings makes him take up so much space

But he still insists so you have to oblige

You try to teach him how to cook it

And it goes well at first until its time to take it out

You couldn't find the tongs or the cooking chopsticks so you went to grab a fork you conveniently keep in your room

And he tries to use his feathers to take the chicken out of the hot cooking oil

So you came back to see some of his feathers half burnt on the ground, and Hawks nervously scratching the back of his neck

"So I may have tried to Improvise...hehe."

"What in the world made you think that was a good idea, Kei?"

"I can normally do a lot of things with them though!"

You just shake your head and send him to the living room with a kiss

Maybe next time Kei

Shinsou Hitoshi

He actually comes home/back to the dorms from training with Aizawa to see you cooking in the kitchen

He generously asks if you need any help, and you say sure why not

Probably the most attentive, and makes no mistakes.

Follows the directions you give him and the measurements from the recipes, even though they are kind of weird to him as well.

And everything's so specific, he has to ask you for clarification

"Is this the right measurement? I feel like I'm off..."

Will 100% laugh if you start making jokes in the kitchen

Will also probably only want to eat your soulfood cooking now.

Both of you will show up to Aizawa's door with a plate

"We made you dinner since you haven't eaten all day."

Aizawa is SOFT you can't convince me otherwise

"Oh, thank you. You should head to bed now."

Shinsou and Aizawa now have regular talks about your cooking and its adorable

My heart lowkey combusted with so many cute ideas with them like pls 🥺🥺 the way I simp for these men

I hope you enjoyed this @todorkihoe

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don't be shy to send a request!

[13-reasons-ideas]

Pls pls can u do a Monty x oc, you’re with your friends & they keep teasing u asking u who’s this guy you’re so in love with and when u tell them it’s Monty their faces fall and they start giving u crap about him so u defended him and told them that u didn’t care what they thought explaining that u won’t justify your relationship with him, you end up choosing Monty over your friends & later when u meet up with him you know you’ve made the right choice💕

I met my friends after school at Rosie’s for milkshakes as per our usual Friday afternoon tradition. I got there first, so I sat at our usual table near the door and pulled out my phone. As I grabbed it, it buzzed and I saw Monty send me a text, have a good time with your friends Liv. Maybe order something different this week. Could be fun for you. I’ll see you in a bit. I love you. Smiling to myself, I quickly responded.

You too. What would you suggest oh master of milkshakes? See you after. Don’t worry, I’ll update you on all goings on in the Clay hole. I love you too.

Maybe try a vanilla milkshake. Oh joy. I’m so looking forward to that….

I had to hold back a laugh at his suggestion. I’m sorry, did you just suggest vanilla? YOU suggested vanilla?

That’s about the only thing I suggest be vanilla, little miss. I felt my face heat and didn’t respond.

“Hey Olive.” Clay greeted as he sat down.

“Hey Clay. Where’s Tony?”

“He had to work. His dad needed him at the shop.”

“Okay, Justin is coming today, right?”

As soon as the words left my mouth, the bell above the door dinged and Justin walked in, his letterman once again around his shoulders. I missed that look on him. Jess was tucked under his arm and she smiled brightly.

“Hey guys. Make room.” He said as they sat down. Jess sat across from me as Justin sat beside me.

“Hey Jess.” I greeted her.

“Hey Olivia.” She responded, the smile on her face falling slightly. She still wasn’t fully comfortable with my friendship with Justin. Little does she know, he’s not even on my radar. We chatted a bit before Marie came to take our order. Since we wait for our whole group to arrive before we order our shakes, we settled on an order of fries while we waited.

A while after we got our fries and talked amongst ourselves, the last two of our little group showed up.

“Scooch over Justin, my turn to sit with Livy.” Zach joked, pushing Justin aside. Alex laughed behind him. After some rearranging, we were all seated comfortably in the small, yet somehow accommodating booth. I was sandwiched between Justin and Zach. Marie came over again and took our orders. As usual, Clay and Justin got chocolate, Jess got strawberry, Alex got peanut butter cup, Zach got chocolate strawberry. When it was my turn to order, I took Monty’s advice and ordered vanilla. My friends looked at me like I had sprung another head or something. Marie furrowed her brow at me but wrote it down when I nodded at her. We also ordered another fries to snack on.

“Vanilla? What about your usual chocolate orange?” Alex asked.

“Decided to try something different.” I shrugged.

“Okay Olivia. But if you don’t like it, you still have to drink it.” Justin told me.

“Sure thing Dad.” I teased with a roll of my eyes. The group laughed along with us and my phone buzzed. Deciding to be polite and not check my phone at the table, I ignored it. After we had gotten our milkshakes and fries, we chatted idly for a while until my phone buzzed again. And then again.

“Someone’s popular.” Clay said. I chuckled as I looked at my phone. If someone is texting me that fast in succession, it could be important. I blushed as I saw that it was a couple of random texts from Monty, about something he was watching on tv. Hiding my phone from my friend’s view I typed a quick reply, I’m with my friends. I’ll talk to you in a while. Love you.

When I looked up, my friends were smirking at me. “What?” I asked, “Is there something on my face?”

“Yeah. Red splotches.” Clay said plainly.

I threw a fry at him and he looked affronted. I threw another one and he caught it in his mouth. Changing the subject, I asked him, “so what’s going on in the Clay hole?”

“Ah, you know, Justin has years of annoying brother stuff to catch up on. So that basically.”

“Hey, I only do it because I love you. You know that.”

“Mhmm, I know. That’s why you leave lasagna from three days ago on the counter in our room.”

Justin merely shrugged and stuck his fry in his shake.

“Dude, that’s gross. Also, don’t leave food out. That’s also gross.” I chided.

“It’s delicious Liv. And yes Mom.”

“I’m sure Lainie feels the same way, yes.”

He threw a fry at me and I caught it in my mouth triumphantly. My phone buzzed a few more times and I ignored them. A few minutes later, it buzzed again, and I took a quick peek. Can’t wait till I get you alone and we can discuss exactly why vanilla is only good as an ice cream flavour. One text read. Another read, I’m only half sorry about that. Mostly because you know it’s true. I felt my face heat again before a smile spread across my face as I read another text, But really. I can’t wait to see you soon beautiful. I didn’t answer him and instead, locked my phone again. Looking up, my friends were once again staring at me. I took a long sip of my milkshake in lieu of responding. This isn’t actually all that bad…. “Vanilla shake, more smiling, running off as soon as school is done.” Alex mused.

“She gets more than one drink at Monet’s in the morning too.” Zach muttered.

“Changed our tutoring to lunch. A lot more texts when we are together.” Justin added.

“What’s his name?” Jess asked.

I took another sip before answering, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right. And so if there’s nothing, explain why you don’t pull your hair up as often anymore.” Clay implored. Maybe he’s not as oblivious as we all thought.

“Guys, it’s nothing. My cousin is coming into town and my mom just wanted to make sure everything was in order.”

“Livy. Your mom has never texted you that much. And your cousin doesn’t make you smile. I believe there was a story of the time you cut the heads off of her barbies for pushing you in the mud.”

“She ruined my favourite shirt Zach. She had it coming.”

“I don’t deny she did. But you can’t expect us to believe that there is no one. You’re different. Who is he?”

I paused before pulling my hair back into a low ponytail. There was a small hickey just under my ear. “No… Olivia. No.” Justin muttered when he saw it.

“What?” Clay and Alex asked together.

I took a very long sip of my shake and took a deep breath before responding, “Yes Justin.”

“No. I refuse to believe it.”

“What? Who are you talking about?” Zach asked, not seeing the man’s mark on me.

“I-it’s Monty….” I stuttered quietly. There was a pregnant pause before Jess burst out laughing.

“That… that’s funny. There’s no way he would go for a girl like you.” She said. That’s only slightly rude. I made no sound of defence or any attempt to answer. “Wait. Seriously?” She continued, her eyes darting around the table. I simply gave a small nod. Again, it was quiet while my friends digested the information they were just given. Their faces had all fallen.

“Monty? Honestly Olivia?” Alex stated but I could tell he intended it to be a question.

“Yeah.”

“He’s a dick.” Clay said.

“He’s violent as shit.” Zach added.

“He’s not very smart.” Jess muttered.

“He’s mean Liv. I thought you were smarter than that.” Justin chided.

The group’s list of reasons why he is all wrong for me went on and on until I couldn’t stand to listen to their bullshit anymore. “Okay. I understand you are mad. That is fine. What is not fine, is you sitting here and talking shit about the man that I love.”

“You love him?” Clay asked, dumbfounded.

“Yes. I do. And he loves me.”

Jess huffed out a laugh, “please Olivia. Montgomery wouldn’t know love if it bit him in the ass. He is incapable of feeling it.” That’s it.

“Fuck you.” I said plainly to her. She stared at me her mouth open in shock.

“Olivia!” Justin gasped.

“No Justin. Listen to me. You are all being ridiculous. I know you have this idea of what Montgomery is like. He has a temper, yes. He has shitty coping mechanisms. He uses violence to feel something he can’t express verbally. It’s not healthy and he knows that. We are working on it. And before any of you ask, no. I do not think he would ever hurt me. Oh and since you all seem to think he’s an idiot, he isn’t. He is actually very smart. I don’t deny that he has issues. But don’t act like none of you have issues. Clay, you have this idea where any information that doesn’t fit what you think a person is like, must be wrong. You’re idealistic in a way that is not only reckless but makes you look like a dumbass. Justin, you’re an addict. I know you’re in recovery and it’s hard sometimes, but I also know that you understand the adage of ‘once an addict, always an addict’. Zach, you’re a pushover. You want to please everyone. Unless it doesn’t suit you. Then you are an ass to everyone because you want to keep your butt clean. Don’t act like me dating Monty and not telling you is any different than what you did to Hannah after that summer. Alex, I don’t think I need to explain your issues. And you Jessica, you were fucking Justin while you were dating Alex. And you’re jealous that Justin and I are friends. So, don’t fucking sit here and act like you are any less fucked up than he is. Just because he deals with it in a way you wouldn’t, doesn’t make him a bad person. I don’t need to sit here, and fucking justify my relationship to any of you.”

My friends sat in shock at my outburst. I could feel the blood rushing in my head as I took a breath. “You really feel that way?” Zach asked.

“Yes.” I said bluntly.

“Well in that case,” Alex started.

“Don’t make me choose.” I told them.

“Why not?” Clay demanded.

“Well for one thing, its fucking childish. And for another thing, you won’t like my choice.”

They were silent in response. That’s my answer then. As I grabbed my bag, Zach stood up to let me out of the booth. I took one last look at my friends before putting cash to cover my drink and portion of the fries on the table and turning to walk away. I texted Monty when I got in the car, can you come over please? I need you.

He replied almost immediately, give me ten minutes. I’ll be right there Liv.

I got to my house a few minutes later and got myself a cup of water before going upstairs to reapply my perfume. I caught sight of a few pictures of the group of us on my shelf, the seven of us including Tony at one formal or another, the six of us goofing off in the park, Justin and I after he got back from rehab. Fucking best friends my ass. Before I could stop myself, I gathered the photos in my arms and took them downstairs. Clearing a space in my living room and moving the area rug, I snapped. I threw the pictures one by one to the ground, the glass shattering or cracking and the frames breaking at the impact. When I went to throw another one, my front door opened. I heard Monty’s voice in the distance, “Olivia?” He walked over to me, being careful of the glass littering the hardwood. I felt his arms wrap around me, “hey hey. It’s okay. You’re okay.” I felt myself slump into his strong arms as tears filled my eyes. Taking the picture from my hand, he placed it on the couch. He held me tightly and walked me to the couch and pulled me into his lap, “shhhh. It’s okay. Everything is okay. Just breathe, I’m right here.” He soothed.

Once my crying subsided, I was able to find my voice again, “I t-told them about you.”

“Okay.”

“A-and they… they.” I hiccupped. I felt his arms tense around me.

“What did they do Liv?”

“They were horrible. They hate me Monty. They made me choose.”  

“They what?” His anger was evident in his tone.

“They made me choose. It was them or you. And I couldn’t… I couldn’t choose them if that’s how they were going to act like that when I fall in love with someone.”

He kissed the top of my head and held me until I was calm enough to stand. “You go change. I’ll go get the broom and we can clean this up, what do you say?”

“Mkay.” I said, numbly. By the time I had come back down, the pictures were gone, and he was in the process of sweeping up the mess. I went to grab the hand vacuum and cleaned up the microscopic bits the broom missed. Once the living room was back in order, Monty queued up my favourite movie and we cuddled on the couch. Definitely made the right choice. I’ll worry about the fallout on Monday.  

[pof203]

Rockababy Halloween (Short Story)

This is a short story for Rockababy with a few OCs. I also like to apologize in advance for turning Boomer’s housewife outfit into a costume. It was just too convenient. Also, my OC, Rosa-Maria, is not in this. This story is in case I don’t finish her story in time. Also, the end scenario is based off one of the stories from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.

It was a crisp Halloween morning. Brick had just gotten up and was about to get ready for school when his neighbor, Mrs. Gowan, came to him in the front of his house.

“Excuse me, Brick,” she said. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“What is it, Mrs. Gowan?”

“Well, me and my husband are going to a Halloween party at my sister’s in the next town and we can’t take our daughter, Martha, and her friends trick-or-treating.”

“What about her friends’ parents?”

“Sally’s mom has an extra shift at the hospital and Patty’s dad has a bad cold. And we can’t hire any sitters because they already have their hands full for tonight. So I thought, if you’re not too busy tonight, do you think you can take them? We’ll pay you.”

“Are you sure? You know how your husband feels about me… and Boomer.”

“True. But it was either you or ask his sister, Daniel, and she hates kids. But I convinced him. So, can you do it?”

“Well, I guess I can. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get my friends in on this.”

“I don’t see why not. I’ll bring her by later tonight before we leave. Thank you, Brick.”

With that, she leaves and Brick goes off to school.

At school, Brick tells the other Bozos as well as Richie and Ace about what his neighbor asked him.

“I think it’s sweet you want to help your neighbor,” said Boomer. “I think it would be a good idea.”

“He’s gotta point,” said Ace. “Besides, we have nothin’ better to do tonight and I don’t feel right about letting three young girls go out on their own.”

“What about that Si-Fi movie marathon on TV?” asked a disappointed Richie.

“Hey, there’s always next year,” said Shifty.

“I suppose. Besides… I think I have an idea for a costume.”

“Like what?” asked Ace.

The bell rang and Richie left for class, looking back to his friends with a smile and a wink saying, “It’s a surprise.”

Later after school, Shifty was at home with Buttons. He was looking in the mirror trying to decide what he should be for Halloween.

“You got any idea?” he asked her.

She just squeaked. This was to be her first Halloween.

“I guess I’ll try something.”

Shifty shapeshifted into some detective clothing. He was wearing a dark grey suit, a silver watch, and a gun holster under his coat. He completed the ensemble with a cigarette.

“Just like Bones, huh?”

Buttons laughed.

“But then again, Bones might be going as this. Next.”

Shifty shapeshifted into some kind of space raider. Some of the marks from his alien form would act his tattoos and had a lollipop in his mouth.

“I got the idea from one of Richie’s movies. What do ya think?”

Buttons squeaked in agreement. Then, he looked into the mirror.

“On second thought, this might be a bit too much. Next.”

Shifty was now a nerd just like Richie. To really sell it, he put on some headphone, had glasses that were blue in contrast to Richie’s red ones, and even a band aid on his cheek. Looking in the mirror, Shifty was quite impressed.

“This get-up makes me look young.”

Buttons makes a gesture like she was saying “Richie”.

“Yeah, I think this may be ahead of its time.”

Shifty decided to go for the big guns. He shapeshifted into the scariest thing he could think of… A square jock just like Ace. He was wearing a blue letterman’s jacket with an S, a blue tie, and even changed his hair style. To make it even more convincing, he had a football that Ace left behind from his last visit.

“What do ya think now?”

Buttons just stared a little confused.

“Yeah, this could be bad for my rep, even if I told ‘em that it’s just a costume.” He changed back to his usual greaser clothes. “I’ll think of something on the way. Right now… Let’s get on with your own costume.”

Buttons squeaked in delight.

First, Shifty dressed Buttons like some Russian beauty with a coat. But, the eye lashes made her look too sassy. Next, he dressed her up like a wizard. But he was afraid it would make her stick out too much. Then, he dressed her like some school teacher complete with glasses modeled after Richie’s, a pencil, and a balloon apple with a worm coming out of it. But it was way too simple.

“What would be good for you?”

Then, Buttons goes to a chest. She opens it to show his skin that he shaded some time ago.

“Huh. I thought that would have rotted away by now.”

Suddenly, Shifty got an idea. Taking the skin, he cut it up and sewed it up until it was a little version of Shifty’s alien form. It was just Button’s size and put it on her.

“Cool,” Shifty said with a smile.

Buttons squeaked in agreement.

Shifty looked up at the clock on the wall.

“Looks like we better go.”

Buttons got into Shifty’s coat and they set off for Brick’s house.

The Bozos assembled at Brick’s house in costumes. Brick was dressed as a martial arts master, complete with a pair of nun chucks and left his coat open to expose his chest which Boomer really liked. Speaking of Boomer, he was dressed like a housewife with a red dress, an apron, red heels, and even a frying pan. Ace was dressed like a 1940s detective. He also borrowed Ace’s magnifying glass to complete it. Ace claims that he came as a teen vampire. Basically, it’s just his regular clothes with his letterman jack and a pair of fake fangs.

“Hey, it was the best I could come up with,” he explained.

“You could have a least wear a cape,” suggested Boomer.

Shifty and Button arrive at last.

“You still ain’t found a costume?” asked Boomer.

“I couldn’t decide,” Shifty explained. “But look at what I did for Buttons.”

The guys couldn’t help but fond over how cute Buttons looked in her Shifty Alien suit.

“Where did you get the stuff to make it?” asked Ace.

“You don’t wanna know,” said Shifty.

Then, the familiar sound of Richie’s motorbike came in. The others turned only to drop their jaws. There was Richie… as a greaser.

“R- Richie?” asked a stunned Shifty.

“Tell me about it, stud~,” he responded.

Shifty nearly changed back into his alien form, but managed to hold it together while trying to keep Buttons in his jacket. But it was no use, and just like that, Shifty was back in his alien form. However, his coat remained.

“Holy crap, they’re coming!” said Brick as his neighbors’ door opened.

Shifty quickly took out a pair of sunglasses and put them on, hoping Mr. and Mrs. Gowen wouldn’t get suspicious. Mr. and Mrs. Gowen were dressed like Alice and the Mad Hatter respectively, Matha was dressed like a princess, Sally was dressed like a cowgirl, and Patty was dressed like a witch.

“Shifty?” asked Mr. Gowen. “Is that you?”

“Y- Yes?” said a nervous Shifty.

Mr. Gowen was silent in thought for a while. And then…

“It’s perfect!” he shouted in glee. “An alien greaser? Now that’s original. I never would have thought that.”

Shifty sighted in relief.

“As for you, Richie,” said Mr. Gowen. “I’m impressed as well. Can you really see without your glasses?”

“I got contacts,” said Richie.

“Well, as long as it’s just a costume, I guess it’s fine.”

“I don’t know; I may keep this look for good… What? Can’t a guy change his style every now and again. But don’t worry. Even if I really do become a greaser, it’s still me.”

“Okay. And you, Ace, you’re not wearing a costume?”

“I am wearing a costume,” he said, pointing to his fake fangs. “It’s all I could afford at the moment.”

“I see. I guess with what happened to your father-“

“Jerry,” said Mrs. Gowen, sternly.

“Sorry. And…”

Mr. Gowen stopped when he saw Brick and Boomer.

“You… You look… Unique.”

Brick and Boomer didn’t whether they should laugh or be offended.

“Why doesn’t Dad like Brick and Boomer?” asked Martha.

“That’s not true,” said Mrs. Gowen. “It’s just that… People like Brick and Boomer make your father a little nervous.”

“But don’t worry, sweetie,” said Mr. Gowen. “I’m slowly but surely accepting it. I mean, the world is changing. Might as well change with it.”

“That’s true,” said Brick.

“By the way, Martha,” said Boomer. “I like your costume. You look just like a real princess.”

“I really wanted to be a pirate,” she said. “But Dad says that’s for boys.”

“And besides,” added Mr. Gowen. “I looked in every costume shop. They’re sold out. I guess pirates are the most popular this year. But don’t worry, we’ll try again next year.”

“Now,” said Mrs. Gowen. “Let’s go over the rules again. What’s the first rule?”

“Stay with Brick and his friends and don’t wonder off,” said Martha.

“Don’t talk to strangers,” said Sally.

“Don’t enter the houses,” said Patty. “Unless it’s the house of someone we know.”

“Take only candy that’s from houses, not off the streets,” said Martha.

“Keep the flashlights with us at all times,” said Sally.

“After getting the candy, don’t doddle, keep going,” said Patty.

“And most importantly…” said Mrs. Gowen.

“No eating the candy until after we get home,” the girls all said in unison.

“I’ve never heard of that rule before,” said Brick.

“After what happened last year, you never know what you mind find,” said Ace.

“And be sure to be back by nine,” said Mrs. Gowen. “I already made a lasagna. Heat it up when you get back.”

“Actually, I think I can make something just as good,” said Boomer.

“No,” Mr. Gowen. “I mean, you don’t need to trouble yourself. I’m sure things will be fine.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Gowen, Boomer’s a great cook,” said Brick. “Your daughter and her friends are in for a treat, if you pardon the pun since it’s Halloween.”

“I suppose… I mean, he has a frying pan.”

“Jerry, we’re going to be late,” said Mrs. Gowen.

“Right, “I’m late” is the White Rabbit’s line, not the Mad Hatter’s. Coming, Ella! Well, we’ll see you girls later. Stay safe.”

“Thanks, Dad,” said Martha.

“Thanks, Mr. Gowen,” said Sally and Patty.

With that, Mr. and Mrs. Gowen got in their car and left.

“You actually looked good in that, Boomer,” said Sally. “Nice legs.”

“Thanks,” said Boomer, proudly. “Just remember these legs are for someone else.”

He winks at Brick who was blushing happily.

“Actually, I like Shifty’s better,” said Martha. “He almost looks… sexy.”

Shifty was unsure what to say. But he could tell Buttons was stirring in his jacket in jealousy.

“You’re… Not actually falling for me, are you?” asked a nervous Shifty.

“You wish,” said Martha. “I already have a boyfriend. Just don’t tell my dad, okay?”

“Your secret is safe with me. Believe me, I can keep one.” Shifty winked with a smile and he could tell Buttons was happy.

“What’s that in your jacket?” asked Patty.

Shifty took Buttons out of his jacket as she pretends to be a stuffed toy.

“I just thought it would make it more convincing,” lied Shifty.

“I think it’s really cute,” said Patty.

“Can we go now?” asked Sally. “The good candy is always the first to go.”

“Right,” said Richie. “Let’s get going!”

With that, the Bozos, Richie (who by now is probably a Bozo himself), Ace, and the girls left for their candy quest

They went from house to house, gathering candy wherever they go. . Many people were a little confused about the Bozos’ costumes. Especially Brick and Boomer, but they ended up liking them anyway. In the upper class neighborhood where Ace once lived, he had to hide his face in hopes no one would recognize him. It would be a bit humiliating if some of the guys he once hung out with at school saw him and laughed at his current situation.

After what seemed like hours, it was time to head home.

“It’s really getting dark,” said Bones. “We should get going.”

Suddenly, it began to rain.

“We need to get inside somewhere,” said Brick.

“How about there,” said Boomer.

He was pointing to… an old abandoned house.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked an unsure Ace. “And of all the nights, a dark and stormy Halloween night?”

“Do you see anywhere else?” asked Shifty.

Ace knew this was true. So, they all went inside the house. It was dark and dusty.

“Abandoned is right,” said Brick.

“I can’t imagine anyone living here,” said Boomer.

Bones looked around the house for a bit. Suddenly, he went as pale as a ghost.

“You guys,” he said with dread. “I think I know where we are.”

“What do you mean?” asked Martha.

“I don’t get it, either,” said Shifty.

“This was before you girls were born,” said Bones. “And before Shifty came to town. It was back when we were just kids around your age.”

“Can you tell us?” asked Martha.

“Okay,” said Bones, grimly. “Just hope you like… ghost stories.”

The group sat down and listened to Bones’ story.

“Many years ago, when we were just kids, there was a rumor going around town that this house was haunted. Every night, a bloody head would fall down the chimney… That chimney.”

He was pointing to a nearby fireplace.

“Because of this rumor, the owner would not stay in it. However, one day, he announced to the whole town that he would give $5000 to whoever was brave enough to stay in the house for one night. But no one would even dare. They were just too damn scared.”

Shifty scowled at Bones for saying damn in front of three little girls… Four, actually. But Bones continued.

“But then, a young man and his dog came up. He said that he would take the challenge on the condition that he would be allowed to bring his dog with him. The owner agreed.

Later that night, the young man and his dog arrived at the house. He lit a fire in the fireplace to keep warm. As it got later, the young man was starting to think that the rumors were just made up and was about to head up stairs to sleep.

But just as he was about to get up, he heard a voice singing a sad song…

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

The young man thought it was probably just some drunkard singing gibberish. But no sooner had he brushed it off… his dog responded.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

The young man was startled. He had never heard his dog utter a word, never mind singing. Suddenly, the young man heard the singing again, but this time, it was closer.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

A bit afraid, the young man urged his dog to remain quite… But to no avail.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

The young man didn’t know what to think. Then, the song was song again. This time, it was real close.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

And like before, the dog responded.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

The young man wanted to leave, but he couldn’t. Something just wouldn’t let him get up. Then, he heard the singing again, only this time, it was right on the other side of the wall.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

The young man once again urged his dog not to respond, but like before, he did not listen.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

Then, the young man heard something climb up the side of the house. Then, it was on the roof as it continued its song. Only louder.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker!

The young man tried to silence the dog with his hands, but he only growled at the young man. When he kept his distance, the dog responded. Only louder than before.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo!

Then, whatever was on the roof went into down the chimney and sang so loud that it was almost deafening.

ME TIE DOUGH-TY WALKER!

Then, the dog responded with the song, but now really loud almost like a howl.

LYNCHEE KINCHY COLLY MOLLY DINGO DINGO!

Then, something fell down the chimney into the fireplace, missing the fire, and landed next to the dog… It was a bloody head. The dog took one look at it and fell over dead from fright. Then, the head turned to the boy, opened its mouth, and…

AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

The Bozos, Richie, Ace and the girls were now shaking.

“The next morning, the owner came to check on the young man. But when he went in, he found the young man lying next to his dead dog. His hair was completely white from shock and his was uttering gibbering. The ambulance came to take the young man to the hospital. When the owner asked the young man what had happened, all he could say was…

The Jangly Man is coming.

The young man is still in the asylum to this day. And every night, he sang the same song…

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

The end.”

Bones could tell that the Bozo, Richie, Ace, and the girls were now scared.

“Of course, it’s just a story. It may or may not have happened.”

“Well I’m havin’ a hard time not believin’ it,” said an upset Boomer.

“He- He’s right,” said Sally. “It’s just a story. My mom said a head can’t live without a body.”

“Well, I did say it was a ghost story,” said Bones. “But don’t worry, we all know there’s no such things as ghosts.”

“That’s what they said about aliens,” Richie whispered to Shifty. Buttons was listening, too.

“So don’t worry,” continued Bones. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

But no sooner had he had said it, they heard something faint outside.

“Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…”

“You were saying?” said a doubtful Ace. “I’m not sticking around here for a bloody severed head.”

But just as Ace was getting up, something fell down the chimney and out of the fireplace. Ace, the Bozos, Richie, and the girls just stood silent for a moment… They screamed and all ran out of the house. None of them ever saw that was fell out of the fireplace… was an empty bird’s nest. And none of them even noticed that the singing was just an owl that was hooting something that sounded like singing.

After calming themselves down and realizing that it had stopped raining, the Bozos, Richie, Ace, and the girls all headed back to Martha’s house.

Boomer heated up the lasagna (adding a few touches of his own) and fed it to the girls as he, the other Bozos, Richie, and Ace checked the candy. Thankfully, nothing had been tampered and was all safe to eat. The girls, the Bozos, Richie, and even Ace helped themselves to their loot. Shifty secretly gave some to Buttons. They spent the rest of the evening watching movies on the TV and the girls fell fast asleep.

Later, the sound the Gowens’ car was heard outside and Mr. and Mrs. Gowen came in.

“It looks like you had quite the adventure tonight,” said Mrs. Gowen, taking some money from her purse and gave it to Brick. “I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Gowen,” said Brick.

“You know,” said Mr. Gowen. “You boys are all right. You can watch Martha anytime. Thank you.”

“It ain’t no prob,” said Shifty.

With that, the Bozos, Richie, and Ace all went next door to Brick’s place to stay for the night.

None of them will ever forget that eventful Halloween night…

And Buttons won’t forget that it was her first one.

The end.

[takingcourage]

Miscalculations: A Witness AU

Chapter Six

Catch up here: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five

Pairing: M!Cassian x MC

Word Count: 3,600

Series Summary: After years apart, fate brings Kellen and Cassian together a third time. Can they learn from the mistakes of the past, or are they destined to repeat them once more?

Note: This update is a day later than I hoped, and I apologize. Chapter Seven should be ready to go this Sunday!

Even as he’d left Kellen’s apartment, Cassian had tried to steel himself for days or even weeks of silence. He didn’t know how long it would take before she volunteered to let him back in, and he couldn’t be the one to make the first move. 

He’d been so certain that things were going well. She’d seemed happy, and her usually controlled persona had slipped away to reveal an openness he’d rarely seen before. When they’d kissed, he’d taken it as proof that they’d found their footing, not just as parents who could come together to care for their child, but as people who could reunite and begin building onto they had once had. 

Unfortunately, her words had shattered his theory completely. I don’t know if this is a good idea... I need more time... He could hear her voice on a loop, the faint protestations cutting against the hopes he’d had for their future. 

Stepping out of his nightly shower, he caught a glimpse of the purple blotch at his shoulder and leaned toward the mirror for a closer look. Mottled and unsightly, he could see why it had been too much for Kellen to take in.

Pursing lips that were still swollen from her kisses, he tested the skin with his fingertips. It was largely because of that scar that he’d returned to Boston in the first place. 

During the initial weeks of his recovery, long before surgeries and physical therapy had restored most of what he’d lost, he’d been forced to reconcile himself to the fact that his ability to perform his job might be in jeopardy. But even as that disappointment weighed him down, another worry haunted him all the more: his job wasn’t enough. His career with the Marshal Service was fulfilling, but he needed something else in his life beside work. 

He’d expected Boston to give him some of the predictability he lacked, yet his life had never felt so uncertain. 

Turning away from the mirror, he embraced the bitter truth: his desire to have Kellen in his life again had supplanted his better judgment. He was just as enamored as he’d been three years ago -- even more, if he was honest. And yet, he had nothing more to show for the attachment, and infinitely more to lose. 

To him, the day had been a preview of everything he wanted his future to be -- if only he had the assurance that it had meant the same for Kellen as well. She’d told him she needed time, but the growing pit in his stomach suggested it couldn’t be that simple. Surely it was obvious to her by now whether their lives were better for having him in them. 

He tried to work through the sudden tightness in this throat. What if they are better off without me?

After all, Kellen had proven that she could raise their son on her own. Owen was well adjusted and seemed content enough to continue living on in the same way. Much as it pained Cassian to admit, the boy was probably young enough to forget him entirely in a matter of weeks. If he disappeared now, their lives could return to normal. 

But even as his thoughts ran rampant, every fiber of his being repelled the notion. He couldn’t leave them. The three of them had made so much progress before tonight’s misstep, and he sincerely believed that further growth was possible.  

If only he knew how they could find their way again. 

____

For the rest of the week, he threw himself into his job, taking extra shifts and duties to ensure that he had as few free hours as possible. The physical exhaustion helped him sleep at night, in spite of the way his mind raced over possibilities. 

Even as he worked, Kellen and Owen were never far from his thoughts. He found himself wondering what steps he could take, if any, to make things right. 

When Saturday came and he still hadn’t heard from her, Cassian typed out a brief message: 

I hope the two of you are doing well. 

In the half hour he spent waiting for a response, he dared to hope that she’d include an invitation to join them at the park the next day. The forecast wasn’t promising, but perhaps she’d stick to the routine anyway. 

When her answer eventually appeared, it was painfully brief. 

We are, thanks. 

He couldn’t bring himself to send another message, for fear that he’d only make things worse. The balance they needed seemed too delicate for him to uphold. He had to prove that he wasn’t going to leave again, but he couldn't threaten her boundaries or need for control. If he did anything to manipulate Owen’s feelings or her own, she might push him out of their lives permanently.

Toward the end of the second week, his apprehension turned to worry. He knew that they were fine. He could discern as much from Kellen’s single-word responses to his texts, though they told him little else. 

He hadn’t sent many: only enough to remind her that he was still there and was thinking of them. He didn’t want to annoy Kellen or lead her to the wrong conclusion, but he couldn’t stand the thought that she might think he’d moved on.

As his lunch break approached on Friday, he glanced over their most recent exchange for what must have been the hundredth time.  

I’m sorry for upsetting you the other night. Please call me if you want to talk about anything. 

okay

Smoothing the glass with his thumb, he gave a heavy sigh. He hated the thought of going another weekend without seeing them. One missed Sunday had been enough to throw him off-kilter for the rest of the week. He didn’t relish the thought of extending their streak any further. 

Deep down, he knew they were never going to get anywhere unless Kellen talked with him. But it was possible that he might reach her by proxy, and he was just desperate enough to try. Before he could think better of it, Cassian tapped out a message to Harika and slipped into the break room for lunch.

Would you be willing to give me some advice? 

Her response arrived in under a minute. Probably. 

He put his leftovers in the microwave and took a seat at the small laminate table. While the food heated, he continued the impromptu conversation. Thanks. Kellen’s hardly responded to my messages this week. Is she okay?’

She’s at work today, if that’s what you mean. She’s been distracted though. 

He was typing the followup when another message came: 

Don’t tell her I said that. 

Returning to the beginning of his text, he made a quick addition: I won’t. Here’s my question. Do you think I should back off for a while? I don’t want to make her life miserable. I can give her some space if that’s what’s best for them. 

NO. Absolutely not.  

Even if that’s what she wants? The microwave dinged, and Cassian retrieved the dish. Sitting alone at the empty table, it struck him how much easier this would be if Kellen could just tell him what she wanted. The constant guesswork was taking its toll on him. 

His phone screen lit with Harika’s reply: It’s not. Not to be cringey, but she needs you. 

Ignoring his food, he responded: If that’s true, I don’t think she’s aware of it. 

It is. She was a mess when you left. I’ve never seen her like that with anyone before. 

He laid down the phone, staring through the steam that rose from his rapidly cooling lunch. On the surface, it seemed like the news should play in his favor, but the Kellen of three years ago and the Kellen of today were significantly different people. Even if she’d missed him dearly all those years ago, it didn’t mean she missed him now. 

It came as something of a surprise when the screen lit again, cutting him out of his musings. 

If she doesn’t come to her senses soon, I’ll lock the two of you in a closet or something. 

He scurried to pick up the phone. Please don’t do that. She really might kill me then. 

Or she’d jump you. ; )

With a groan, he pushed the phone away. The last thing he needed right now was a reminder of what he was missing when it came to Kellen’s touch. Those kisses many nights before had been enough to wake the desire that he’d been struggling to keep at bay since seeing her again. That woman still had the ability to drive him absolutely wild. 

…Thanks for the advice, he settled on, then flipped the phone over. 

Returning to his lukewarm lasagna, Cassian cut a large bite with his fork. It hadn’t even been a fortnight since he’d seen them, but it felt like an eternity. Until this stretch, he hadn’t realized how much he looked forward to their park visits throughout the week. Missing one and not knowing when he’d see them again was starting to wear him down.

He ate quickly, eager to return to whatever distraction work could offer. When he moved to slip his phone into his pocket, he was surprised by the sudden vibration. 

“What now, Harika?” he muttered under his breath before seeing the sender’s name: Kellen. 

Eyes widening, he unlocked the screen and devoured her message: 

Owen’s been asking about you. Any chance you’d be free to come over sometime? The forecast looks awful for going to the park this week.

Hardly daring to breathe, he typed his answer with haste. I’m off at 5:00 tonight. I could bring dinner over after that if you want. 

I’ll take care of dinner, but that sounds great. He’ll be ecstatic. 

Will you? He wanted to ask, but he was afraid of learning the answer. Instead he wrote, I’ll be there by 6:00. 

Great! See you then. 

_____

Arriving at her apartment several hours later, Cassian quickly rapped his knuckle against the door. He waited for a response, puzzled when he was met with several seconds of silence. “I’m on my way!” he heard finally, just making out Kellens voice as it carried through the thick wood. 

Cassian released a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. 

“Come on in,” Kellen beckoned, rushing off as soon as she’d unlatched the door. He followed her curious movements before Owen’s shrill greeting from the other room caught his attention. 

“Mister Keane!”

“He can’t leave the carpet,” Kellen explained. “I dropped a glass and it got everywhere.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked, hurrying inside to ascertain that all was well. Though shards of glass covered the tile floor, he saw no blood or other cause for worry. 

“No, but can you take him to his room while I get this cleaned up? If he steps on anything...”

“Of course.” Cassian nodded in understanding and proceeded immediately toward the living room. Owen was tiptoeing the small wooden divider, impatient to see his visitor.

Crossing over to him, Cassian held his hand out for a high five, but the toddler hugged his legs instead. Cradling the small face, he brushed a thumb against the boy’s temple. “What is it, a stór? Have you been good for your Ma?”

“Uh-huh!” He assured, releasing his strong hold to show Cassian a broad grin. 

“I’m glad to hear it.” 

Cassian didn’t even have a chance to unbutton his coat before he felt the toddler’s insistent hand at his knee. “Come!” 

The man obliged, allowing the child to lead him through the apartment and to his bedroom.

“Trains,” he explained, pointing to the extensive track circumnavigating the floor. 

Cassian found an empty space on the carpet and sat with a grin. “You have an awful lot of them, don’t you? Can you show me how they work?”

“Uh-huh!” he chirped for the second time in as many minutes. 

His smile widened at the child’s innocent enthusiasm. He watched the imperfect attempts to couple the engines to the railcars, intrigued by his trial and error as he tested the ends of the magnets until they stuck. 

Once the train was in one piece, Owen placed a yellow engine in Cassian’s lap and slid a pair of similarly colored cars in his direction. 

“You really don’t like yellow, do ya?”

“Huh-uh.” His own blue and red creation was assembled and ready to leave the turntable. “Choo choo!”

He chuckled at the boy’s accompanying hand motions. Hooking his own pieces together, Cassian set them on the track to join in the play. He’d only moved them a couple of inches before Owen began chasing the yellow train with his own, cackling as he picked up speed. 

Cassian’s own laughter soon joined, prompted more from his relief than from the hilarity of the situation. Reunited with his son at last, the frustration of the past several days faded to mere memory. 

“Choo choo!” Owen cried again, his train butting up against the final car of Cassian’s. 

“I’d better keep it going, hadn’t I?” he asked, rolling the toy around a precariously sharp turn. 

Owen angled his face toward Cassian, nose wrinkled and eyes scrunched almost shut with his emphatic grin. 

“I’ve missed ya,” he breathed, blinking against the tears that sprang to his eyes. I hope I never go so long without seeing you again, he reflected, wondering if there was anything he could do to dissuade Kellen from such absences in future. 

His heart clenched at the reminder of how things stood between the two of them. 

He wanted to be part of Owen’s life, no matter what that meant for him and Kellen. Even if he could only have the bits and pieces she was comfortable with, he wouldn’t sacrifice these moments for the world. 

Their playdate came to an end sooner than he would have liked when Kellen called them to dinner. 

“Dinner’s ready,” she announced, leaning against Owen’s doorjamb. “I hope you still like Spaghetti Bolognese.” If he wasn’t mistaken, there was an almost nervous hesitance in the way she framed the last statement. 

“I do,” he rushed to answer as they followed her into the dining room. “And I haven’t had it in ages, so it sounds perfect.” 

Kellen let out a quiet breath and set the bag of takeout on the table. “It’s nothing.”

As he strapped Owen into his booster seat, Cassian found himself hoping that it wasn’t really nothing. Was remembering one of his favorite dishes a sign of her impeccable memory, or was it something more? 

For the rest of the evening, he endeavored to keep a tighter rein on his thoughts. 

Though his composure held through dinner, it wavered during Owen’s bedtime reading. Voice trembling, Cassian’s ability to concentrate on the words was overpowered by an increasingly familiar longing for time to stand still. Kellen offered a smile, and the gesture was almost enough to make his voice crack again. 

This was everything he wanted, so close that it was almost within his grasp. He wanted a future of nights like this, even if they were sprinkled through the ones he spent alone. 

After he finished, Kellen took the lead in tucking the boy in. Turning the light out behind them, she laid a hand on Cassian’s arm. Intrigued, he sought her face when they stepped into the light of the hallway. 

“Sit with me?” she asked, motioning toward the couch. 

He followed with some confusion, his brow creasing at the serious look on her face. Even after they sat, it was some time before she relieved his curiosity. “He’s been a mess the past several days,” she uttered, breaking the silence. 

“So have I, if I’m honest.” 

Kellen’s mouth tugged sympathetically. “I shouldn’t have waited so long.” 

Though he hoped her regret signaled a change of heart, Cassian didn’t have the faintest idea how to respond. He didn’t want to condemn a decision she’d made with her best judgment, but he didn’t want to let the opportunity pass either. He was still trying to find the right words when she went on. 

“He talks about you constantly. He’s asked to see you every single day.” 

“I know that isn’t what you wanted,” he began, hesitating over what he’d intended to be an apology. But he couldn’t bring himself to say that he was sorry for the circumstance. 

She looked conflicted, eyes downcast as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think it actually might be a good thing.” 

His eyes narrowed at the bizarre sentiment. “Why?”

“Because I realized he’s not the only one who thinks about you all the time...” Her blue eyes met his, shimmering with the gleam of unshed tears. “And that helped to clarify some things for me. Do you think we could we talk? Not tonight -- it’s been a long week, and I need sleep more than anything else -- but soon?” 

He took a cautious breath, afraid that reminding her of his presence would break the spell that seemed to have come over her. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” She paused before carrying on, a resolved expression stealing over her face. “Nothing at all. I'm just ready to say some things that I should have said a long time ago.” 

Still somewhat tentative, he took her hand. The way she clung to his fingers did him a world of good. “I’d be glad to talk anytime. I have the weekend free.”

“Maybe we could meet somewhere else? It’s probably best not to have Owen underfoot. ”

“Whatever you think is best. I hate to make you find a babysitter--”

Her hoarse laugh cut off the rest of his sentence. “That won’t be any trouble at all. Harika’s been volunteering for weeks.” 

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Last time I talked to her, she threatened to lock us in a closet until we get things sorted out,” Cassian shared, thumb still running along the smooth surface of her knuckles. 

Kellen snickered at the notion, but when she met his gaze, her features had settled into something vulnerable and open. He could count on one hand the number of times she’d been willing to reveal her true self to him like this, and he could only hope that this wasn’t the last time he saw it. 

“I swear she thinks we’re back in college sometimes. I’ll have to double check with her about the time, but maybe we could meet tomorrow? I don’t want to put this off.” 

“Neither do I. You’re welcome at my place if you’d like. It’s not much, but we wouldn’t be disturbed. I’ve got a well-stocked pantry if you end up staying for a while.”

“I think I’d like that,” she agreed, her eyes still trained on him. 

The fine hairs on his neck rose. “I think I would too.” It was still somewhat unnerving to see this side of her -- this honesty about her feelings and desires -- but he couldn’t deny it was a welcome change. “Come by anytime.”

“Thanks -- for everything.” Still holding firmly to his hand, she shifted nearer on the couch. He'd just lifted an arm to wrap around her shoulder when her phone buzzed from the dining table. “I’ll be right back,” she promised.

At her quiet curse some moments later, Cassian rose to his feet to see if he could do anything to help. She was still staring down at the screen, scrolling through what appeared to be a chain of emails. 

“It’s something for work. I’m so sorry.”

“Do you need to go back to the office? I can stay here with Owen if you’d like.” 

“No, I can take care of it from home. But I’m not going to be very good company for the next few hours.”

“I understand. Don’t run yourself too ragged. You need some sleep too,” he reminded, stretching out a finger to trace her cheek. She caught his hand with her own and squeezed it tightly. 

“I’ll try. Otherwise, I might need to nap on your couch tomorrow.” 

He tried not to envision a drowsy Kellen showing up on his doorstep, though their time in Nantucket had left him with a wide selection of memories to choose from. So many of their days had started and ended with her ragged yawning and sleep-addled attempts to flirt. “I wouldn’t complain if you did.” 

Kellen arched a brow, but said no more. 

Pulling back his hand, he allowed it to fall to his side. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kellen,” he promised, making for the door. 

“Cassian?”

He paused, pivoting toward her in anticipation of whatever parting thought she wished to impart. 

“Before you go, I’m sorry for giving you so many mixed signals -- especially the last time you were here. Can you forgive me?”

Such concessions were hardly like her. If her tone hadn’t been so somber, he might have made a quip about the unexpected nature of her apology. Instead, he simply said, “Of course,” and stepped forward to envelop her in a hug. “Thanks again for tonight; I missed the two of you more than I can say.”

"I hope you won’t have to miss us quite so much anymore,” she told him quietly as she stepped out of his embrace.

Heart thundering wildly beneath his ribcage, Cassian managed another smile. For the first time since meeting Kellen again, he knew the two of them were in full agreement. “I do too. Goodbye, Kellen.” 

“Bye, Cassian.” 

Still somewhat dazed, he left her and began his long journey across the city. 

[cookingwithgath]

Tomato Sauce with Porcini Mushrooms 

(a la Marcella Hazan, Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking)

This recipe is for when you have at least 80 minutes of prep time. It’s not the simplest but it’s worth the effort – especially (but not only) if you serve it over handmade pappardelle. It also makes a special, richly-satisfying sauce for store-bought conchiglie (shells), penne, or ridged ziti. 

Be sure to start the porcini soaking first thing. They need at least 30 minutes plus handling time. Instructions precede the recipe below.

Dried Porcini Mushrooms (Fungi Porcini Secchi)

Marcella Hazan writes: Even when fresh porcini – wild boletus edulis mushrooms – are available, the dried version compels consideration on its own terms not as a substitute but as a separate, valid ingredient. Dehydration concentrates the musky, earthy fragrance of porcini to a degree the fresh mushrooms can never equal. In risotto, in lasagna, in sauces for pasta, in stuffings for some vegetables, the intensity of the aroma of dried porcini can be thrilling.

How to buy 

Dried porcini are usually marketed in small transparent packets, generally weighing slightly less than one ounce, one of which is sufficient for a risotto or a pasta sauce for 4-6 persons. They keep indefinitely, particularly if kept in a tightly sealed container in the refrigerator, so it pays to have a supply at hand that one can turn to on the inspiration of the moment. The dried porcini with the most flavor are the ones whose color is predominantly creamy. Choose the packet containing the largest, palest pieces and – unless you have no alternative – stay away from brown-black, dark mushrooms that appear to be all crumbs or little pieces. Dried morels, chanterelles, or shiitake, while they may be very good on their own terms, do not remotely recall the flavor of porcini, and are not a satisfactory substitute.

How to prepare for cooking – Before you can cook dried mushrooms, they must be reconstituted according to the following procedure:

For 3/4 to 1 ounce dried porcini: 2 cups barely warm water. Soak the mushrooms in the water for at least 30 minutes.

Lift out the mushrooms by hand, squeezing as much water as possible out of them, letting it flow back into the container in which they had been soaking. Rinse the reconstituted mushrooms in several changes of fresh water. Scrape clean any places where soil may still be embedded (this is not a joke – it’s a total bummer to skimp on this step and end up with gritty sauce on your homemade pasta!). Pat dry with paper towels. Chop them or leave them whole as the recipe may direct.

Do not throw out the water in which mushrooms soaked because it is rich in porcini flavor. Filter it through a strainer lined with paper towelling or cheese cloth, collecting it in a bowl or beaked pouring cup. Set aside to use as the recipe will subsequently instruct.

Ingredients

2 tablespoons shallot or onion chopped fine

2 1/2 tablespoons butter (I often replace this with vegan butter or olive oil if I want to keep the sauce vegan)

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

2 tablespoons pancetta, proscuitto, or unsmoked ham cut into 1/4″ wide strips (I leave this out to make it vegetarian and I still love it)

1 1/2 cups fresh, ripe tomatoes, peeled and chopped, or canned imported Italian plum tomatoes, cut up, with their juice

a small packet or 1 ounce of dried porcini mushrooms reconstituted as described above

the filtered water from the mushroom soak

salt

1 pound pasta

freshly grated parmigiano-reggiano cheese for the table (we use pecorino romano due to a cow’s milk allergy at our house and it is a suitable replacement for parm in this instance)

Instructions

1. Put the shallot or onion into a saucepan together with all the butter and oil, and turn on the heat to medium. Cook and stir the shallot or onion until it becomes colored a pale gold. (Now is when you meat eaters add the strips of pancetta or ham, and cook for 1 or 2 minutes, stirring from time to time).

2. Add the cut-up tomatoes with their juice, the reconstituted mushrooms, the strained liquid from the mushroom soak, salt, and several grindings of pepper. Adjust heat so that the sauce bubbles at a gentle, but steady simmer. Cook in the uncovered pan for about 40 minutes, until the fat and the tomato separate, stirring occasionally.

3. After tossing the pasta with the sauce serve with freshly-grated Parmesan on the side.

[Image credit: Bon Appetit]

[is-it-madness]

"And I think you realize how tempting you are, darling. Resisting you seems impossible." She leans forward to allow the dim light to catch in her depthless blue eyes, twinkling like the most brilliant stars beckoning him closer. "And I don't think I want to."

A flick of his fingers tugs the cloth napkin on his lap over the growing bulge in between his thighs. He has half a mind to cast an illusion over them, tug her into his lap, and have his way with her right there in the booth. But she deserves more.

"Then don't resist," he purrs, knowing the effect his appearance and voice hold over so many. All that matters is his hold over his little mortal. "I am yours to do with as you please."

Lily dives into her explanation concerning herself and he listens with complete rapt attention. Curious eyes never leave her pretty face as she allows him into her world, permitting him a peek into her mind. She withholds some information from him, that much is clear, but they will have time for her to divulge if she so wishes. There are elements of himself better left undiscovered and undisturbed, so he can hardly blame her for wishing the same privacy.

"Education is a noble pursuit. Molding the minds of others is a difficult task and should only be taken on by those with the kindness and intelligence to understand how to best instruct those in their care." He nods once, pride lifting his chin and softening his gaze. "I also know it can be quite draining on the mind and body. Should you ever need assistance in any capacity, or a reprieve from your day, know that I am here for whatever you may require."

As she cared for others throughout her day, it will be his duty to care for her at its end. One day he will be granted the privilege of starting her day properly, but that is her decision to make. Another sip of his wine parts his lips. He refills their glasses before speaking, forming his words carefully before even thinking to utter a sound.

"My comings and goings are common knowledge among the general public, unfortunately. Paparazzi and youths on their phones tend to follow me--from a 'safe' distance--unless I shift my appearance. I am currently working with Stark and his band of ruffians to protect Midgard. My leisure time is typically spent training, reading, or perfecting certain spells and potions."

Their food arrives and a cutting glance from Loki dismisses the inappropriate waiter before further disrespect against the pair can be given.

He takes a bite from his lasagna and chews quietly. His unmatchable mind works rapidly behind his narrowed eyes before he finally returns his attention to his beloved. Concern draws his brows together to crease his forehead.

"If you would prefer, to stop that-" a tilt of his head gestures behind her at the lingering glances his presence attracts "-from ruining any future outings together, I can change my appearance. The lowly tabloids will eventually discover our relationship and they are typically not kind. I do not wish to subject you to such scrutiny."

-Loki 💚

If only he knew that she wants to do anything and everything with him. And with a purr like that, any resistance she might’ve had, though she doubts there’s any left, goes flying out the window.

Feeling a sense of pride when he approves of her work, she smiles down at their hands in quiet glee. Looking back up at him when he offers her reprieve from her tiring days, her heart swells with more adoration for him. How one man, one being, be so perfect? It astounds her. “That’s very kind of you, darling. And should I ever need it, I will most definitely come to you.”

Taking a sip from her wine, she listens just as intently to him about his life. She nods when he mentions Mr. Stark, having an idea of what kind of work they do. But when he speaks of working on his magic, her eyes widen, remembering how incredible it was to see him perform a task with its aid.

Their food arrives and a cutting glance from Loki, he dismisses waiter.

Something had definitely happened between Loki and the waiter when she wasn’t paying attention. Lily wants to ask, but trusts that Loki will tell her if he really needs to. Taking a bite from her fettuccine, she hums in delight at the delicious flavors. But then Loki asks her if she would like for him to change his appearance for her, as an attempt to cease the hateful looks thrown their way.

Putting down her utensils, she forces herself not to turn around and flip everyone off for making Loki feel like he needs to hide his appearance. Taking his free hand in both of hers, she looks at him in earnest. “No, never. I don’t want you to do that. Unless, of course, it’ll make you more comfortable. But if it’s me you’re worried about, well I hardly care what anyone else thinks. Tabloids mean nothing to me because I never even glance at them. But when we go out, I want it to be with you. Not you with a mask on. Just you. My Loki.” She hopes the sincerity of her words are as clear as she’s trying to make it. That she truly didn’t care what anyone else thought. True, she might get mad on his behalf, but at the end of the day, she had him. And that’s all that matters to her.

[hawkbucks]

Number One With A Bullet

I saw a prompt comment on the WinterIron subreddit, and I thought I’d try my hand at it. It read:

Tony grows up in an average household, but his brain still lands him at MIT. One unlucky night, his trip to the bank gets interrupted by a robbery. However, the criminals leave as soon as they see Tony’s face. Looking into it, it turns out Tony was put on the No-Harm list by the leader of a global crime syndicate who goes by the Winter Soldier. He is completely flabbergasted when the Winter Soldier looks exactly like his ex-boyfriend, Bucky Barnes.

Tony doesn’t live in a bad neighborhood per se, but he wouldn’t be caught at an ATM in the dead of night with no more as defense than his keys poking through the slits his fingers make when they’re balled up in a fist.

And yet, that’s how he finds himself, standing under a cloth awning with a yellow light doing its best to illuminate him and provide a feeling of safety. He slides his card into the slot and waits for the mechanical voice to tell him to punch in his PIN. Damn the fact that the nearest convenience store is cash-only (seriously, they might as well be an inconvenience store with that policy in his very humble opinion), and damn the fact that he’s pretty sure he’s going to need at least 2 extra cans of Red Bull to get through his courseload tonight. He squeezes his keys harder, his keyring starting to dig almost painfully into his palm. Maybe leaving New York was a bad idea. Maybe he should’ve just went to NYU; at least then he’d be surrounded by familiarity.

The ATM asks for his PIN.

As his thumb hovers over the keypad, something sharp presses into the base of his spine. He freezes, breath catching in his throat, and hopes to god that he’s just imagining things.

“We just need you to withdraw a li’l something for us, alright?” a raspy voice sounds from over his right shoulder. It’s muffled slightly, probably due to a ski mask or a pulled-up scarf covering a mouth. “We don’t want this to get ugly.”

Yeah. So much for imagining things. He has his makeshift claws, sure, but he never thought that he’d actually have to use them, and the usage of ‘we’ isn’t exactly instilling any sort of confidence in him, especially when the presence of another person is confirmed by a low hum in agreement.

‘Course, it’s either stand here and let these guys bleed him for all the money he has in his account, or act out—and possibly get stabbed to death—in hopes of scaring them away once they see he isn’t going to be that easy of a target. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t mind doing a little tango with death if that means he isn’t going to be evicted from his apartment and end up living out on the streets. It’s not like he has that much to lose anyway (unless you count his piles of rising student debt and well-worn clothes as something).  

“You know what to do, right?” the voice continues. “Just give us some money, and we’ll be right outta your hair.” The sharpness grows insistently, and he knows it’s only a matter of time until it breaks through his clothes and sinks into him.

“Just money?” he asks, swallowing down any residual fear.

“Just money.”

He blinks and nods twice. Now or never, Stark. Now or never.

He wildly turns around and punches out with his “claws,” satisfaction settling in his chest when he hears a grunt of pain. The knife clatters to the ground, and he watches as they reel back, holding the side of their face.  

He sets his shoulders, adrenaline coursing through his veins as his breathing becomes heavy. He glares at the other, daring them to come forward.

Except that the other doesn’t come forward. No, their eyes are wide through the holes in their mask, and their knife is hanging loosely at their side. “Oh, fuck,” they start, their voice higher-pitched and more nasally. They look at recently-punched-guy out of the corner of their eye before looking back at him. “Uh, shit. Dude, it’s him. Norman, fuck, it’s him.”

Tony furrows his brows together. “It’s him”? What the hell does that mean? Last he checked, he wasn’t anyone that would get people caught up while attempting to rob him, unless he somehow turned into a celebrity overnight.

“Aw, man,” recently-punched-guy—or Norman, as he’s recently learned—moans, looking at Tony, knees buckling from underneath them. “The Soldier’s gonna have our heads.”

The Soldier? The closest person he knows to a Soldier is Rhodey, and he’s pretty sure Rhodey isn’t the kind of guy who would go around threatening to have people’s heads if they screw with him. Or maybe he is, but he’s definitely not the kind of guy who would make good on that promise if the way his would-be robbers are looking like they’re staring their death sentence in the face is any indication. (Speaking of which, probably not the smartest move to have given Tony one of their names.)

“We didn’t know it was you, man, we swear!” Not-Norman pleads, sounding on the verge of hysterics. “Dude, you gotta tell the big man that we didn’t know!”

He stays silent, racking his head and trying to figure out who this Soldier could be and why it seems like they want to protect him so much. Rhodey’s out, obviously. Pepper may be the next most likely candidate, but there’s also the fact that she has better taste than to call herself the Soldier. It can’t be Peter, that kid he tutors, since Peter is 12, and it’s not Peter’s Aunt May because he’s pretty sure she wouldn’t hurt a fly even if it was buzzing all over her lasagna.

Norman and Not-Norman, however, take his silence to mean that he is, in fact, considering not telling the “big man” that they didn’t know. “Listen, if we knew it was you, we wouldn’t even have approached you!” Norman says. “Just tell him that, yeah? ‘Cause we have to go. You—fuck—you hit hard!”

“I’ll tell him,” he says. If he could ever find out who “he” was.

“Okay, okay. We good?” Not-Norman’s already backing away.

Tony nods.

Norman, still holding his face, turns tail and runs. “You can keep the knife!” he shouts out, Not-Norman lagging just a few strides behind him.

Tony looks down at the knife, considering.

See, someone calling themselves the Soldier sets off alarms in Tony’s head. Unless they’re some 14-year-old on an MMORPG, they’re probably involved in some shady, shady business, and it’s not like he can just Google who they are. Fortunately, Tony knows someone who deals in shady businesses (mostly because they’ve been friends since elementary school and, while they went down incredibly different paths, she’s always looked out for him). He sprawls himself out on his couch and dials a familiar number.

“Who the hell’s the Soldier?” he asks once he hears her pick up.

“Wow. Not even a hello,” Natasha quips dryly. Rustles of cloth and faint shouting can be heard in the background.

He decides not to ask. It’s probably for the better. “Hello.” He pauses for what he assumes is an appropriate amount of time. “Who’s the Soldier?”

“What makes you think that I’d know?” Natasha says in a tone of voice that makes it painfully clear that she does, in fact, know.

“C’mon, ‘Tasha. I’m curious.”

Natasha hums in acknowledgement. “Answer one of my questions first.”

Oh, great. Intelligence for intelligence, as she says. “I—sure, okay.”

“You’ve never asked me about them before, which leads me to believe that you’ve never even heard of them until now. Who told you about them?”

He stares at his ceiling. “Uh, Rhodey? You know how he works for the military and all? He—”

“The truth, Tony,” she sighs exasperatedly, cutting through his lie like a knife through butter. So much for that.

He mumbles, “I was in the middle of… getting robbed—”

“Getting robbed?” Natasha’s voice is razor sharp, concern seeping through.

“It’s not—that isn’t important.” He waves a dismissive hand although he knows she can’t see. “I wasn’t hurt, which is exactly why I’m curious, because those guys stopped once they saw me and then they started acting like this Soldier was gonna kill them.”  

“Who was trying to rob you?”

He could rat out Norman and Not-Norman, but he thinks that not even they deserve whatever kind of hell Natasha would rain upon them. “Not important.”

“It’s important to me.”

“Not to the story overall. ‘Tasha, please, I don’t want to talk about this any more than I have to.”

“…Fine,” Natasha acquiesces in her own way of apologizing. “I know him. Not personally, but I know him. Give me an hour and I’ll send you his address.”

“You can’t just tell it to me now?”

“I’m working, Tony.” With that, she hangs up.

He wonders if it’s revenge for him not telling her about Norman and Not-Norman. Knowing her, it is.

His base is near Boston, Natasha’s text reads, his text tone startling him awake. You’re lucky. Tell me how it goes.

If he’s being honest, he didn’t expect the base of someone with enough power to make a couple of simple-Joe-robbers nearly piss their pants at the thought of them to look so… plain. Bricks stained a dark red from the passage of time and accumulation of grime, black-tinted windows denying any nosey onlookers the pleasure of being able to look in, and a rather nondescript sign proclaiming the building to be under the ownership of a company calling themselves HC Inc.

He takes a deep breath and enters.

There’s a receptionist there, maybe a year or two younger than himself. Blonde. Her eyes widen when she sees him, but she quickly clears her throat and goes back to typing on her computer.

“Hi!” he greets once he’s up at the counter. He flashes her what he hopes is a friendly smile, because something about her tells him that she won’t hesitate to put him through the floor if she thinks he’s suspicious in any way, shape, or form. “I’m looking for, er…”

She smiles back up at him, eyes glinting. “The boss, right? Don’t worry, I’ll phone him.”

He nods politely before backing up and walking a few steps away, just far enough that he can still hear her without looking obvious (or at least he hopes he isn’t looking obvious).

“There’s someone here to see you, boss man,” he hears. “No, it isn’t her. It’s—” she glances at him— “it’s Stark.” A pause. “I’m sure. He looks like the picture.” Another pause. “Yes, of course.” She places her hand over the mouthpiece and beckons him over. “Can I see ID?”

He fumbles with his wallet as he fishes it out. He flashes his MIT ID, hoping that’s enough.

And enough it seems to be. She nods towards a hallway off to the left. “There are elevators down there. The boss is on floor 30.” She uncovers the mouthpiece as he walks away. “I’m sending him up right now.”

The room the elevator opens up to is far more extravagant than he would’ve expected looking at the outside of the building. A heavy-looking mahogany table sits in the middle, magazines splattered all over the surface, while a pair of thick maroon curtains help block out anything the tinted windows can’t. A chandelier illuminates the room in a soft yellow light unlike the harsh flickering from the ATM before.

Either he’s about to be served the finest glass of red wine he’s ever had, or he’s about to be executed while Chopin bombards his eardrums. It could be both. Not that he’d mind.

He takes a few careful steps, looking around the room. “Uh, hello?” he calls out, trailing his fingers on the table. After a couple of seconds of no response, he picks up a magazine and flicks through it. He can play the waiting game.

“Tony?”

He yelps, turning around to smack whoever that voice belongs to with the magazine, but is stopped when a large hand wraps around his wrist. “Wh—” he starts, then everything he’s about to say dies in his throat. No way, right? There’s no way?

It’s been a few years since they’ve seen each other, since they broke up because he wanted so desperately to go to MIT, to leave their state, but he’s pretty sure that he’d recognize the other anywhere and in any life.

“James?” he squeaks. James is taller now, broader and more muscular with a fair amount of scruff on his chin and hair that reaches his shoulders, but his eyes have always stayed the same: this cool blue that brings him back to the ocean. “You’re the Soldier?”

“Winter Soldier, technically,” James says, releasing his wrist. “Sorry, I—I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Winter Soldier?” Tony narrows his eyes and rubs at his wrist. He doesn’t doubt that James didn’t mean to harm him, but his grip is strong. “Like… like from when we used to play Runescape?”

James cringes, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I couldn’t think of anything else. What are you here for anyway? I never thought that you’d… that you’d find out.”

“I—” Tony throws the magazine back on the table— “was approached by a couple of lovely guys, and they mentioned you. Said something about how you’d have their heads for even coming near me.” He crosses his arms. “I’d like an explanation, please.”

James rubs the back of his neck. “There’s a list that I have of people that, uh, that shouldn’t be hurt. You’re on it. So are a couple other people, but… yeah, you’re on it. You’re number 1, actually.”

“Number 1?” Tony isn’t sure if he should be flattered or afraid. Flattered because, well, it shows that James still cares for him, still thinks of him, and he’d be lying if he said that didn’t send his heart aflutter. Afraid because there’s bound to people out there that aren’t scared of the Winter Soldier’s wrath, and the fact that James just offered his name and face up on a silver platter… he’d just have to hope, as with most things.

“Yeah. You’ve always been my number 1.”

No. Tony can’t have that. His head is already spinning what with all of this information that he’s under the protection of some mob boss (although Tony strongly suspects that James is the head of more than just a mob) and that mob boss is his high school boyfriend that he thought he left in New York. He can’t have old feelings resurfacing. He can’t think about the nights where he stared at James’ contact information in his phone, never quite building up the courage to call or text. “We haven’t talked in years, James.”

“Doesn’t mean you’ve grown any less important to me.”

Tony exhales. He can’t really come up with something to say against that. Or at least he can’t come up with something to say that wouldn’t make him feel like a monster (which is funny, because James has probably dealt with much worse people than an old flame with a lashing tongue). “What is that supposed to mean?”

James shrugs loosely. “Whatever you want it to mean.”

Oh, no. Oh, no, Tony, don’t, his mind says. James has changed. He isn’t the same boy that used to quote Star Wars with you all day. He’s dangerous, more than likely. “And if I want it to mean something along the lines of us trying again? As friends, and maybe… maybe we can see where it goes.”

James smiles sanguinely. “I can accept that definition.”

[stellar-alley]

Everfalls

•Chapter 11•

This is based off of the artwork by oceanteeeth on Instagram! Also shout out to my Beta super.rose.cosplays!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Summary: Eddie finds out someone has been spying on him. Something comes up that could possibly jeopardize their plans for the next full moon.)

~

“So, as most of you are probably aware, this time of year is special for the english department. We’re beginning our Shakespear unit, and as past students might’ve told you, we always start the unit with a field trip” Mr Brock addressed the class from where he stood at the front of the class.

Eddie shot a glance over at Richie who shared the same look of wonder and confusion.

“On the 26th our class will be venturing to the small island off the coast of Maine which is only accessible during certain times, due to high tide. But this is no normal island. This island is the place of William Shakespear’s summer cottage, the place where he developed most of his best stories.” Mr Brock reached towards his desk and lifted up a stack of papers.

(Guys this stuff about William’s summer house is complete bullshit and solely for story purposes)

The teacher walked to the row closest to him and instructed the student that sat before him to take one and pass it back.

The paper hadn't even reached Eddie yet, he was already looking at Richie for guidance, a look, anything. Once the pile fell onto his desk he quickly grabbed one and passed the rest back. He scanned the page, he read it over quickly, confirming what he was afraid of.

The field trip is on the day of the full moon.

~

“What the hell are we gonna do?!” Eddie’s voice grew louder, as did his worries.

“We gotta go on this trip! Brock literally fucking said we are either sick or there, because that damn final project revolves around that trip” Richie realized with a sigh. He ran a hand through his hair and tugged on the ends.

The wolf’s ears perked up a little bit, “Wait- the trip is during the day, so shouldn’t we be fine? As long as we get home in time for the moon to rise, we’ll be okay!” He realized as his voice filled with hope.

Where Eddie sat on Richie’s bed, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, he sighed. “I guess you’re right… It’s just, fuck, that thing last night, now this” Eddie stressed.

That caught Richie’s attention. “What thing last night?” He questioned, taking a seat beside Eddie.

Oh yeah, I never even told Richie

Eddie kept his eyes shut as he spoke, his voice tinted with fear, “I think someone followed me home last night”.

Richie tensed at the news, “What the fuck? Are you okay? What happened?”,

Eddie turned his head to look at Richie as he still leaned on his knees. “I-I don’t know. But the entire time I walked home I knew I wasn't alone. I don’t know who it was, or why they followed me- but I’m worried. Rich… What if it’s the council? What if they found me? I-I can’t go back” Eddie sat up as he began to think about what would happen if the council did find him, “I can’t go back” he whispered.

Richie put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, a small gesture that created big emotions in both of them. “And you won’t. I won’t let it happen, Eddie. I won’t let them take you” He assured the rabbit.

~

“And this is a mandatory trip?” Wentworth repeated as Eddie and Richie both nodded their heads.

The boys had confronted Maggie and Went in the kitchen. Richie and Eddie stood side by side leaning against the counter behind them, while Maggie and Went stood on the opposite side of the kitchen.

“Yes sir! He said unless we're pukeing up a fucking lung then we should be there” Richie explained.

West's lips tightened into a thin line “Son, language” he advised.

“Hm yeah” Richie grunted, “Okay but I mean technically since it's during the day we should be fine. As long as we're home before the moon rises-”

“Which we will. It says we'll be home by 4” Eddie pips up, he pointed to the schedule on the form.

“Exactly, so we'll have more than Enough time before the moon rises” Richie explained.

Went and Maggie shared a glance, “But honey what if something happens? The full moons are the day you're most prone to outbursts” Maggie pointed out, her voice laced with worry.

“ Yes but don’t forget, I'll also be there, I can help him.” Eddie assured them.

“We'll protect each other,” Richie proclaimed, his hand brushed against Eddie's.

Went shook his head, “What about the high tide? If something happens-”

“We will be the first ones on the bus” Richie stated.

“And stay together, okay? We’re stronger in numbers” Maggie advised them as she placed a hand on her husband's shoulder.

“And if anything happens, you'll call us?” Went said. The boys nodded their heads in unison.

The beep of the oven timer breaks the tension in the room. Maggie smiles, “So who wants lasagna?”.

~

Friday after school Richie drove Eddie home. The bunny had gotten fairly used to riding in the car. Even though his heart was no longer beating out of his chest, his hand still always found Richie's during their time in the car. Neither of them mentioned it, they simply enjoyed the touch.

“So, I wanna show you something.” Eddie said as he led Richie into his house.

“Yeah? What's up Eds?” Richie cocked an eyebrow at the change of Eddie's tone, he sounded a bit serious and worried.

“I-I found something. The other night when I thought someone followed me, I began going through my dad's old books. And the protection spell has a lot more functions then I thought. Can I show you something?” Eddie took a seat on the couch in the family room.

Richie followed suit and got comfy. He nodded, watching as Eddie twisted his wrist in a practiced motion, calling a book to his hand. These are the little things that still blew Richie's mind, the powers that Eddie wielded. He once asked Eddie to teach him, which the rabbit tried, but he explained how it's harder to do when it's taught later in life, especially to werewolves.

He flipped through the pages and found the one he had bookmarked. “So I found out that the forcefield is always recording, just like your- uh, whatcha call the...” Eddie closed his eyes, trying to think of the word.

“Security cameras?” Richie tried.

Eddie snapped his finger, “Yep, security camera. And I wanna show you what it picked up” he explained, he held his hands out.

Richie placed his hands in Eddie's, he closed his eyes when Eddie did. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear the words Eddie mumbled under his breath, presumably a spell.

What Richie didn't see was when Eddie's eyes burst open, their normal brown gone, replaced by their natural ice blue. He was looking but he wasn't seeing.

At first there was the image of the house, it stood in the middle of the field in all its glory. Eddie mumbled something under his breath and the boys watched as the sun moved around the house as if it was a time lapse video. The sun was past midday, a couple hours before it would begin to set. Eddie said something else, then the image changed. Instead of looking in, they were now looking at the footage of outside the force field. Facing the direction that led them back into Derry. They zoomed in on Eddie as he exited the forest towards the house. Watching as he walked through the field. When he passed their gaze they realized that was when he passed through the forcefield. For a little while the two were simply watching nature at its finest. The wind blowing through the trees, the sun casting shadows onto the grassy meadow. Something caught their eye in the forest. A figure stepped out from behind one of the various towering evergreens. It surveyed the land before proceeding. Eddie whispered a command and the footage zoomed in. The figure stood still for a while. It zoomed in further and stopped once they had a clear image of their suspect. Both the boys almost immediately recognized the culprit. Eddie let the footage continue as they watched the human’s face drop in shock before he tripped, then ran out and back into the forest.

Eddie released the spell with a gasp. His eyes wide as they reverted back to their normal state of brown. He inhaled heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

It took Richie a minute or so before he broke out of the spell induced trance. His eyes snapped open as he gasped for air. “What the-” He heaved, “Was that Bill?”.

“Yep…” Eddie confirmed, his voice dull as it lacked emotion. The footage still replayed in his head of Bill’s face filling with shock.

“He saw you go fucking invisible” Richie realized as he raked his hand through his hair.

“Yep…” Eddie repeated, eyes blank as he listed all the possible thoughts that Bill could’ve had when he saw Eddie just fucking disapear through the forceifeld.

“But why the hell was he following you? It makes no fucking sense unless… Fuck, didn’t Bill mention a white rabbit the other day at lunch?” Richie asked.

The question brought Eddie back to reality. “He did! What if he saw me that night when-” Eddie cut himself off before he could finish his sentence. The night I shifted and spied on you as you sang your heart out to a song about me.

Richie leaned forward, his attention grabbed, his eyes filled with suspicion, “What night?” he asked.

The rabbit shook his head, “No, no it’s nothing” Eddie tried to brush it off.

“Eddie, What. Fucking. Night?” Richie pronounced each word individually as his tone grew stern. He didn’t mean to scold Eddie like this, but now he was filled with worry as their secret could possibly be in danger.

Eddie looked to the side, not meeting Richie’s gaze, “I followed you home one night…” He mumbled quietly.

“You what?” Richie asked, he clearly heard Eddie with his enhanced hearing, but he wanted to hear him admit it.

Eddie’s head snapped to face Richie’s, something inside of him suddenly burning, “The night after I had my fucking anxiety attack at school? Yeah, I followed you home. And I watched you and Bill talk about God knows what-”.

“Eddie what the fu-Why would you do that?” Richie barked, he stood up from his place on the couch. “Are you jealous or some shit?” He demanded.

“What? No! Why would I be jealous? I just needed to see you, okay? I felt bad about storming off after you helped me at school” Eddie confessed, the sentiment there but his tone still harsh.

“Yeah since you just fucking left me in the bathroom after I literally saved your ass” Richie scoffed.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “And I said I was sorry. Okay? Now can we please just focus on this whole Bill thing? Our secret could seriously be in jeopardy” His voice went cold. Eddie has never had to worry about his secret getting out because in The All Lands everyone shared the same secret so there was nothing to let out.

“Fuck I forgot… We can’t just ask him” Richie was stressing, his eyes nervously darted around the room. “Wait! What if we ask Stan to help? He’s closest to Bill and he already knows about us. Plus he’s always down to spend more time with Bill, especially since he-“ Richie stopped mid sentence, eyes wide as he realized the secret he was about to spill.

Eddie’s brow furrowed with confusion, “Since he what?”.

“What?” Richie asked, playing dumb.

“What?” Eddie repeated. He shook his head in frustration, “Something about Bill and Stan?” he clarified.

Richie didn’t think before he spoke, “Oh Stan crushing on Bill?” Richie immediately slapped his hand over his mouth. “Fuck” He whispered with wide eyes.

“Wait. What, really?” A ghost smile played over Eddie’s lips. “Stan? and Bill? Oh I could so see them together” He gossiped.

“Right? Wait shit, I didn’t mean to tell you. Stan barely even knows” Richie joked, the tension slowly evaporated between them.

“Well whether he knows or not, do you think Stan could help us?” Eddie inquired.

Richie crossed his arms over his chest and held one hand up to stroke his imaginary beard, “Yes… I think this might just work”.

Word Count: 2070

I cannot belive we just finished chapter 11! Guys it's about to get really good from here, I mean it was good to begin with, but now the plot thickins! Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed and I will see you all next week, so until then,

So Long and Goodnight.

~

[Taglist]

@richietoaster @s-onora @that-weird-girl-blog @beproudtozier @ghostnebula @bellarosewrites @s-s-georgie @lermanslogan @iamcupcakefrosting @madidraw @gazebobullshit @thoughtfullyyoungduck @aangzukos @ambitiousskychild @reddieonwheels @breadheadscorpius

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!

[dragonofdarknesschaos]

Chase Young Can’t Read

Okay, but do we ever actually SEE Chase reading?  He’s never shown writing.

I know he’s sown looking at Evil Housekeeping in “Judging Omi,” but there is no proof that he was actually reading the magazine.  Magazines have pictures too, and who’s to say that Chase doesn’t just subscribe for the pretty pictures?  Have you SEEN the man’s lair?!

Further proof of Chase’s illiteracy is in how Chase’s underlings convey messages to him.  One of Chase’s fallen warriors is a Gaelic werewolf that can transform into a crow and play back or show what it has seen and heard from its’ eyes.  In “Hannibal’s Revenge,” “Omitown,” “Oil in the Family,” and others the crow is shown whispering to Chase or sharing a look.  Another scene shows the crow flying back to Chase’s lair, transforming to a warrior, and presumably telling Chase the information it gathered in person off screen, before walking out of the throne room on screen.

It’s one thing to be a spy and not leave a paper trail, but it’s another thing entirely to be a spy and leave your post to convey information  Most spys only leave their posts if their cover is blown, the information they have gathered is too sensitive to document on paper, their assignment has been completed, or a mix of all three.  The fact that the crow repeatedly goes back to Chase to report directly for all messages, no matter how trivial is a bit suspect.  About 99% of the time the Monks do not even notice that the crow is watching them.  Why fly off to report to Chase that they’re on the move?  “Phoning in” and reporting remotely would make more sense to continue the mission of watching the Monks.  The fact that time and again the crow is shown watching the Monks means that this is a recurring, if not ongoing, mission of some importance.

What the Food Tells Us

“But what about the recipe for Lao Mang Long soup?”  You ask.  Yes, the recipe is written down in a book about Chase, but that doesn’t mean Chase ever wrote or read the book (though he is vain enough he at least knows it exists).  Canon doesn’t go into it deeply enough to form a concrete decision, but Hannibal made the Soup, Chase turned evil and imprisoned Hannibal.  Now Chase makes the soup for himself.  Chase is never shown reading a recipe--why would he?  He’s been making this elixir for the last 1500 years (or more), by now the recipe is routine; Chase has no need to refer back to any written document of the elixir.  Or maybe, he could never read a recipe in the first place?

It is unclear if the Lao Mang Long soup ever spoils as evidenced by “Time After Time, part 2″ wherein Omi hides the soup, and then digs it up over 1500 years later, still steaming.  But most who work with any kind of food, or food prep, or both, know that dating food and packages is mandatory to know how fresh the products are.  Chase is often shown using CANNED soup.  If he’s caning the soup himself, why are there no dates?  Surely one as methodical as he would want to use the oldest batches first.  Without written dates he must have an elaborate system of organization (otherwise it’s like having no soup at all--and Chase says he’s very attached to the soup, as it’s what keeps him forever youthful and pretty [”Master Monk Guan”]).

Chase is making the soup for himself too, so there’s not even a need to list the ingredients on the package.  However, there is no written label--there is only a picture of a dragon on the can.  While this was done to cinematically highlight the fact that each can contains at least one whole dragon (don’t forget this is a TV show for 6-12 year olds), it then questions why Chase would label his elixir in such a way.  Why label your food with a picture of one ingredient instead of writing what the can contains?  It would be like labeling lasagna with a picture of just noodles, or a chocolate cake with just a doodle of chocolate chips.  Why label food in this way, unless you don’t know how to read or write?

The League of Overcompensating Villains... with Giant Citadels!

Furthermore, much of Chase’s lair has boobie traps and combinations to turn off or activate security systems.  There are no number pads, or combination locks, or physical keys of any sort.  There are only “super old school” “classic” secret levers, buttons, walls, and compartments for Chase to utilize, like in the regular Showdown of “Master Monk Guan,” how Jack opens the front door to Chase’s lair by pushing a hidden button in “Evil Within,” and the various boobie traps the Monks encounter in “Finding Omi” as well as a hidden Wu safe room.  Since Chase is unable to read, an alphanumeric combination or security key is meaningless to him.  Physical key holes are too easy to pick and bypass.  What better way to cover up your lack of literacy than to use really cool, distracting tricks and illusions?  One would have to be really smart to remember all the tricks and hidden items and how to avoid them, right?  Or at least that’s the stereotype.  This elaborate, over the top method of covering up an apparent “lack” is Chase’s modus operandi and he does it constantly throughout the series.

What does it all mean?

Chase not knowing how to read or write would cast him as a poor person in ancient China, as around 500 AD only the sons of Nobles were educated and learned to read and write.  This goes in stark contrast to many who headcanon Chase as the [bastard] son of a nobleman.  Coming from a poor, likely farming, family would make the life of a Monk seem like a step up.  It could also be indicative that Chase is an orphan.  Why strive so hard to achieve and prove your greatness unless you came from nothing?

While the desire to “prove oneself” is universal, it’s usually explored by characters who either have great power and prestige and want to prove themselves worthy of wielding their own power (Marvel’s Thor) or characters who have nothing and want everything because they believe they deserve it in some way (Marvel’s Loki).  The only thing Chase knows for certain about his destiny on either the Xiaolin side or the Heylin side is that he will become a great warrior.  Joining the Xiaolin Order would have been the first step towards receiving military or battle training through the art of Kung Fu.  What he does with that training is up to him.

Can XC Chase Read?

XC Chase is potentially in the same boat as XS Chase.  The biggest difference is that in XC, Chase is shown looking at and reacting to a text only status post on Facelook from Jack (”Who Shrunk Master Fung?”).  While text-to-speech is a thing, it’s unlikely that Chase fully understands how to operate the tech.  Chase dislikes Jack enough that, despite Jack installing the Wifi Chase used to access Facelook, as well as the giant monitor Chase was viewing the status update on, and never adding Jack as a friend, I doubt Chase would have tried to figure out the text-to-speech on his own.  Even if Shadow helped him, she is out of the lair at the time of him reading the status, and also temporarily transformed into a bird with Chase’s magic.

There is another scene in “Princess Kaila and the Thousand Layer Mountain” where Chase says that great tales will be written and told about his coming victory against the Xiaolin Order, and perhaps he or the cats can read it.  But can the fallen warrior cats even read?  Questions for future victorious Chase to answer.  Chase is also shown crumpling up a resume Jack hands him in “The Laws of Nature.”  If Chase is illiterate it’s just crumpling up a bit of useless trash.  However, it also asserts how little Chase cares about Jack’s credentials and achievements.

To summarize, Chase likely cannot read in the XS canon.  He goes out of his way to cover up this flaw by having intellectual puzzles as security precautions, has all his underlings report verbally, visually, or both, usually in person, and does not label any of his canned foods with words or numbers, instead only using pictures.  His illiteracy is indicative of a life lead by a poor farm boy or orphan who joined the Xiaolin Order as a stepping stone to achieve his destiny of becoming a great warrior.  XC Chase is possibly illiterate too, but there isn’t enough evidence either way to confirm or deny this possibility.

TL;DR:

XS Chase can’t read.

XS Chase goes out of his way to cover up this little fact by having intricate boobie traps throughout his lair.

All of Chase’s underlings report to him in person.

Chase doesn’t label any of his canned food with letters or numbers; only pictures.

Only noblemen were able to read and write in 500 AD China, so Chase was likely a farm boy or orphan.

He then joined the Xiaolin Temple as a stepping stone to achieve his destiny of becoming a great warrior.

XC Chase is likely illiterate too, but there are too many inconsistencies to confirm.

Random Headcanons under the cut:

I’m not saying Chase was kicked out of the Xiaolin Order because he couldn’t read, but what if that was literally the only reason?

Please consider dyslexic Chase.

Remember all those various scenes where Jack asks for Chase’s autograph and Chase just glares at Jack, as if the boy genius knows that he, Chase Young, is illiterate and is taunting him for it.

Chase never responding to emails because he literally cannot.

For that matter, why and how does Chase have an email?!  Who was Jack messaging?????????

Someone writing a really witty and heartfelt love note to Chase, but he can’t read it.

Chase turning Wuya solidly just to read his mail because she can read for some reason???  IDK?????????

Wuya is shown reading a magazine called “Woman”--likely a parody of Womens Day--but finds it too drab and changes it to “Wuya” (“The Citadel of Doom”).

Even if Wuya is in the same boat as Chase and just “reads” magazines for the pictures, she still formed an opinion about the magazine being “drab” and changed the entire thing.  Most people would just get a different magazine.

I guess Wuya took that mag from “drab” to “FAB?”  Amirite?  XDDD

Okay, but please imagine Jack teaching Chase how to read and write.

Also, Omi trying to teach Chase how to read and write, but he’s really bad at it, and Raimundo steps in to help because he’s got the highest reading comprehension.

The Monks are all shown reading and writing at various points throughout the series, but all are shown writing out their ideas for quests in “Hannibal’s Revenge.”

I believe Dojo said this in XS, but “penmanship wasn’t always a strong suit of the old masters.”  Big oof.  However, this means that the Temple will teach literacy, so then why didn’t Chase pick it up?  (more fuel for dyslexic Chase)

[gingerstorm101]

Power Out

He groans loudly, his head falls to the window soon followed by his fist. “Stop! I beg of you! Just stop!”

Ziva can hear the man complaining from her desk as she finishes her work on the latest case they closed. They were thankfully able to finish the case just in time for Friday night to start. But the weather outside was quickly worsening, and as much as she agrees with her partner, her complaints were silent.

She glances up at the man for a brief second before she hits print on her report. All she has to do is hand it in.

“Are you almost ready, Tony?” She asks, pulling out a folder to put it in.

“Hm?” He turns to her. “Oh yes, I just have no idea how we’re getting home, the snow trucks haven’t gone out yet.” She hums her response to him, tapping her papers together.

“Thanks again for driving me home.” She says; her eyes soften as they land on him. “You do not have to do it.”

Tony moves around to sit on the edge of her desk, looking up at her. “I could not let my friend walk home in this weather. Besides, I had carpooled with you this morning, and you brought me coffee. I believe that warrants as good reason to drive you home.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Maybe I’ll get a coffee out of it.”

She chuckles at him, leaning in close. “Maybe if you’re good.” Squeezing past him, she leaves to hand in her report. When she returns, Tony has his jacket on and his bag over his shoulder, her items were in her hand. In union, they walk to the elevator.

***

Ziva keeps herself from tapping her foot as Tony does a snail’s speed down the street to her apartment. After an hour they were finally the ten minutes away from Navy Yard, and neither Tony nor Ziva could be more relieved to see the building. Finally they could get out and stretch.

Ziva doesn’t ask out loud if he would like to come in for coffee, she didn’t have to; he parks the car and follows her up the stairs. She opens the door in a swift movement, a wave of heat greeting her as the two of them stepped in from out of the frigid weather.

“Ah,” Tony sighs. “At least the power didn’t go out.”

“Don’t jinx it, Tony.”

Tony gives a short laugh as the two of them shrug off their jackets and toe off their shoes. He hangs up his jacket before reaching around to grab hers from her hands and adds it to beside his. She wants to comment on it, but she decides to leave it alone as she watches him move before her. Instead, she turns her back on him and walks to the kitchen.

After making a pot of coffee, no doubt most of it going to waste by the end of the night as it was already 8:00pm that night, but she never knew, she might pick up one of her newest books and spend half the night reading it. She might need it then. Stirring the two cups and licking the teaspoon, she takes them to her partner who was sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the table.

She places the cups beside him; she steps over his legs and sinks into the couch beside him. When he throws his arm over the back of the couch, she leans into him and pulls her feet up under her. “What does the weather network say?” She mumbles, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Snow, snow, and more snow.” He drops his hand down to rest on her hip. “It’s not going to stop all night and chances of more snow tomorrow.”

She sighs. “Hopefully by the time you get home, the snow has at least slowed down a bit. Or the traffic is gone.” He nods his agreement, then takes a sip of his coffee. “Do you want dinner?”

“I would love dinner, but I don’t dare to order out, the less I get a bite out of my pizza or half eaten fries.” She grimaced at the thought of sending a delivery boy out in this weather.

“I think I have a lasagna in my freezer from when I made a couple batches last month.” She thinks out loud. Her response is the growl from Tony’s stomach.

Ziva takes a few moments to listen to the lady on the TV to explain that they were going to be getting another three feet of snow over the next few hours. Part of her thought of sending her partner home right then and there, but she knew that he would end up going to bed hungry instead of eating. Knowing that the last thing in his fridge was a bottle of wine and his cupboards only held stale cereal.

She wasn’t going to let him go home hungry. “Keep me updated on the weather as I go start dinner.”

“Do you need any help, Zi-vah?” He asks, his eyes following her, a small smile adorns his lips.

She looks down at him from her vantage point. “No, no, it’s just turning on the oven and setting a timer. No need for the two of us in the kitchen.” He doesn’t say anything as she walks away, and she could feel the burning of his gaze on her body.

As she moves around the kitchen, Tony hollers updates from the living room. The main road has been completely backed up, and people who have been avoiding it have backed up nearby streets. The power in the south side of the city had been cut out from the wind cutting power lines, over by where McGee lives. Along with warning that the temperature was going to be dropping quickly over the next few hours and will continue throughout the night. Plus the comments from Tony on the howling of the wind from outside the patio door.

In the ten minutes it took to preheat the oven, more than half of the incoming traffic from the freeways has been brought to less than 5mph, if at all.

From her spot against the dining room table, Ziva says. “I don’t think you’re going home tonight.” He sighs and agrees with her. “Unless you want to be out in that weather for the next three hours.” The glare he sends to her was enough to make her laugh. With the timer set, she walks over to the couch and snuggles into his chest again.

“This is getting too depressing to watch.” He murmurs, handing the woman her coffee, knowing that she was going to ask for it soon. She nods against him, cradling her cup.

“I know, but we must know what’s going on.”

By the time the meal was cooked, another foot of snow fell to the ground. Ziva had opened the door to look outside to see that Tony’s car was almost completely snowed in and she could no longer see the footprints they had left when they arrived. The wind had picked up its pace, and they could barely hear the TV over the howling.

But they were inside and away from the cold and snow. And better yet, they were not alone.

Placing the empty coffee cups on the counter, Tony pulls the plates down from the cupboard. The way the two move around the kitchen, warms Ziva’s heart. They were partners, but they fit so well together. They moved together. Thought together. Maybe they’ve worked so long together that they knew exactly what each other was thinking. When he had his back to her, pulling out their dinner from the oven, she smiles at him, a full out smile that she couldn’t keep to herself.

Yes, at least they weren’t alone.

But the moment the second slice was out of the tray, the room goes dark and the living room goes silent. She curses under her breath in Hebrew, and Tony in English, somehow managing to say the same thing.

They look at each other, barely making out the other’s outline in the room. She pulls out her cell, using the flashlight to look around the room. Together they walk to the patio door to notice, barely visible between the heavy flakes of snow, all the lights in the apartments across the street were dark and there was no light coming from the street lamps.

The power was out.

She sighs, raising her phone again to scan the room with her light. “Let us at least eat dinner before it gets cold.” He doesn’t say anything as they take their meals to the table, using the phone face-down as light as they eat.

It didn’t take long for them to start to feel the apartment to go cold, and Ziva could feel a chill run up her back.

“Are you okay?” Tony asks, resting his hand on her arm.

She nods, but figures he can barely see her. “I am fine, Tony. I will be better when the power turns back on.” He agrees with her, and goes back to eating.

Ziva doesn’t know what to do without the light from her lamp, the lack of brightness from any kind of candles, and no TV to watch, what were she and Tony going to do? They sit on the couch, but honestly, she was pretty much just sitting on Tony with how little amount of room there was between the two of them. With every shiver that ran up her arms and back, she scoots another inch closer to him. The warmth lulling her to sleep.

Whispering, Tony breathes to her. “Maybe you should go to bed.” Yes, she’d be more comfortable in her bed, but her bed is cold, her room is cold, everywhere would be cold, and he’d offer to sleep on the couch like always.

But instead, she mutters. “No, cold.” And snuggles into his side to emphasize her point.

“You can’t sleep out here with me, neither one of us would get a good night’s sleep.”

What she wants is for him to be her personal heater in her bed, but that whole ‘Rule #12’ thing still hung over their heads. But they won’t be having sex. They’d just be sleeping together. As friends. Nothing else. “I will go to bed if you come with me.” She declares, raising her head to stare him straight in the eye.

He’s caught off guard, stuttering. “Wai- wha- Ziva!” And then he lowers his voice, thinking someone, namely Gibbs, could hear him. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“I do not mean it like that Tony.” She says, pointing her finger into his chest. “You will complain about your back hurting if you sleep on my couch, and I will be freezing in my bed with the temperature dropping like this. What is that phrase you say about sharing a sleeping bag?” She asks. “It is only for one night, and it does not have to involve sex.” They were just friends, she reminds herself. Just friends sharing a bed together. Again. “We have done it before.”

She could see him thinking it over, weighing the pros and cons in his head. It was a full minute before he looks at her again to give her his answer. “Fine, but I don’t want to hear any complaining.” She smirks devilishly at him, bops him on the nose, and then gets up, pulling him with her.

The trek to the bedroom seems longer than it ever has been before. Tony has never slept in her bed, every time they have ever slept together, they had always seemed to be at a hotel. So when Tony steps up beside her bed and pulls back the covers, her heart starts to race and she feels her face start to flush. She would have been even more embarrassed if he could see her.

“Ziva.”

“Hm?”

“They tell us that to keep each other warm, we have to be naked.” Ziva gulps. She forgot about that part. “But seeing as neither one of us is wet, we can probably strip down to our underwear.”

“Yes, we do not have to be completely naked.” She turns her back to him, no matter how pointless it is, and takes off her jeans and blouse. She tries to peak over her shoulder at Tony, but she can’t see a thing, she can barely see outside the window, all she can hear is the howling of the wind and the shuffling of fabric. In just her bra and underwear, she turns around. “Are you ready?”

A ‘yes’ came from the darkness on the other side of the bed. Together they climb under the covers, not touching, not daring to get closer. “We need to be closer if this is going to work.” He says. Ziva eyes him and scoots closer, and he turns on his side, pulling her back to flush against his chest. A shiver runs up her spin at the contact, but she is comfortably warm. Even warmer than she was when they were on the couch. “Are you good?”

“Yes.” She whispers, resting her head on his arm. He wraps his arm around her stomach and intertwines their legs together as if they’ve done this a thousand times. “Good night Tony.” Her voice barely audible over the wind outside.

“Good night Ziva.” He whispers back, resting his chin on the top of her head.

***

When Ziva woke up the next morning, she was extremely warm and someone was pretty much laying on top of her. But she doesn’t seem to mind at all. The soft snoring she recognizes as Tony’s almost instantly. The arm she was laying on was stretched out in front of her with her hand wrapped around his fingers, and his other hand was placed over her stomach, holding her where she slept.

Unable to see out the window from her position, and certainly unable to reach for her phone, Ziva closes her eyes and falls back to sleep. Cause hey, it was Saturday, and they were snowed in.

[alwaysraineh]

hey heyy!! hope you're doing goood, + hope you don't mind me asking 1, 40 and 70! for the OC ask game! i'd choose Dwight but you can switch it up if you want. :O ok byeeee

ahhhhh i’m doing v good today jo!!! i hope you’re also doing well!!!

and you can ABSOLUTETLY request dwight!!!! i’ll even toss in wesley and morgan just bc they’re the golden trio of their story and dwight needs his buds (ok ok so this is me being greedy with ur ask but shhhhhh)

send me a number and an oc!!!

1. What is their favorite food?

oof okay i actually haven’t ever thought about this before now???? lemme get into the mind of a 1996 northern california suburban teen...

lol i can’t do that i have no clue BUT i think wes would have surprisingly pedestrian tastes?? he likes hot pockets is what i’m saying here. morgan loves her mom’s homemade lasagna. it looks like shit every time but tastes great. and dwight????? dwight. dwight tries to sound cool and say his favorite food is like... some sort of hot pepper or something?? its not. dwight’s favorite food is dinosaur egg instant oatmeal. he got a pack that didn’t have eggs in it once and he cried. he was fifteen. his twin sister still teases him about it. 

40. If I wanted to draw them, what would be distinct physical features that I would have to know to draw them correctly?

DWIGHT OWEN WHITMAN IS A NATURAL GINGER BUT THIS IS 1996 AND HE HAS FROSTED TIPS. DOES HE LOOK COOL? ABSOLUTELY NOT. DOES THAT MEAN HE’S GOING TO CHANGE HIS HAIR? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

also he wears a bucket hat in the summertime and has a scar on his arm, just above his elbow, from that one time he fell out of a tree in the back yard (he claims gemma pushed him) and when he’s sixteen he talks his step-dad into letting him get his ear pierced

morgan has never paid attention to patterns or sizes on her clothing and she’s not about to start now??? her favorite accessories are circular sunglasses and a rainbow braided leather belt. she has a stick’n’poke tattoo of the nirvana logo on her heel that she did herself, and frequently doodles or writes notes on her arm in sharpie

wesley saw romeo & juliet (1996) on a school field trip, went home, and cut his hair exactly like leonardo dicaprio. he refuses to leave home without wearing his neon colorblock windbreaker and a leather bracelet that his mom hates but he never takes off. he also has braces, which he hates, but that his dad insists he’ll be thankful for in the future

70. What do you, the creator of this OC, like most about them?

oh gosh that’s not fair bc i really adore these three idiots, they are my babies and i designed them specifically to be likeable despite being stupid teenagers

i think my favorite thing about wes is his snark, tbh. he’s a very anxious boi, especially considering that he’s the most connected to the entity and it occasionally possesses him and he loses big blocks of time in his memory and thats SPOOKY for him but when he’s questioned by the cops he’s just like ‘yeah bro what you gonna do bout it??’ and the cop who has to deal with him is just. so tired of teens.

morgan is really close with her mom and also REAL into conspiracy theories and ghosts and aliens and spooky shit in general. everyone thinks she wants to be a witch but she just likes collecting weird things. her favorite bands are nirvana and guns’n’roses and all of this is well and good but i think my favorite thing is how defensive she is of her friends. dwight and wesley are both ridiculous in their own right and morgan doesn’t let them get teased about it. unless she’s doing the teasing. then they best be prepared to get ROASTED.

and dwight!!!! dwight. oh, dwight. dwight owen whitman, with his frosted tips and wrestling singlet, stuck with the nickname ‘white’ and good in school but a complete dumbass when it comes to social cues. the first to say that everything that happened to them before milo died was their imaginations, the last to admit that there really is an entity toying with them. he cries over oatmeal sometimes because its hard being a teen. that’s okay. he loves his dad and step-dad to the ends of the earth and his favorite sport is basketball but he chose wrestling instead?? dwight. my favorite thing about dwight is that, despite his general idiocy and teenage boy-ness and all that, he’s a very soft boy. he wants to make sure people are happy and he’s not afraid to make a fool of himself if it’ll make someone else laugh. he’s a good boy with a soft heart even if he does make some odd fashion choices.

[soyforramen]

The first day of school brought with it many things.  A brutal new schedule after the lazy months of summer’s freedom.  New, at least to Jughead, clothes and shoes now that he’d grown out of the old ones.  Empty notebooks and cheap pencils from the dollar store.  A library full of books and a cafeteria full of food  The return to the ins and outs of Riverdale Elementary was rote now that he’d gone through this four times before.

Every year, like clockwork, there was something that went awry.  Jellybean’s early birth the night before first grade kept Jughead and his father anxiously waiting through the difficult birth.  The day before second grade found Archie breaking his arm from falling out of the treehouse while Jughead broke his ankle trying to catch him.  And last year found Reggie Mantle, his goons, and Betty Cooper, already overly zealous in her environmental awareness, sneaking into the school to release all class animals back into the wild.

(Still one of the highlights of life in this boring town, an even that many had tried, and failed, to top since.)

This year promised something different. Something lighter and better.  Now that Reggie, Moose, and Jason had moved onto middle school Jughead finally began to believe he could enjoy lunch and recess.  He tied his flannel around his waist, a decisive fashion choice for the more conservative halls of Riverdale, and stepped out into the cloudy morning light.

The crisp hint of fall tore through the oppressive heat of summer.  He’d always loved the fall and the changing of the leaves, but mostly because of the fairs that brought fried foods and sugary treats along with it.

It was looking to be a good year.

That is, until he came upon the Andrews’ residence.  

As he drew nearer, a soft keening sound called his attention towards the hedge row to his left.  He was struck by the oddity that neither family would leave a small animal in such distress.  Jughead glanced up at the Andrews’ porch, no Archie to be found.  As he neared, he saw the light in Archie’s room was still dark.  Next door, the Cooper’s residence was locked up tight against the outside world.

He glanced at his watch and found he was 15 minutes early, another oddity to the day considering his father had returned early enough from his nightly escapades to wake Jughead this morning.  A quick glance proved he was the only living creature on Elm Street, leaving him with a moral dilemma he’d rather avoid.  His better nature, and his curiosity got the better of him and he wandered towards the hedges to investigate.  Still too short to peak over the bushes he squatted down and peered through the trunks.

Whatever it was he’d been expecting, it wasn’t a bright pink pair of overalls underneath a mass of blonde, shaking hair.

“Betty?”

The wailing paused, and she turned to look at him.  Her face was covered in bright red splotches and tear tracks, a sight that still broke his heart of ice no matter how many times he’d seen it.  

Swaying movement at the edge of his vision caught his eye and he squatted closer to the ground for a better look.  A fringe of hair stood at attention on the top of her head, defying gravity.  The overall look was as if a flamingo and a cockatoo had gotten into a fight and come out the other end as conjoined twins.  

Jughead bit his cheek to keep from laughing.  Betty’s lower lip trembled and new tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

He cleared his throat of humor before he spoke again.  “What happened?”

The responding sniffle was enough of a warning Jughead was able to brace himself against the onslaught of verbiage he didn’t realize anyone was capable of this early in the morning.

“Cheryl and Jason came by to pick up Polly to go to school, even though Polly knows we’re not supposed to let anyone in the house if they’re not home, and Cheryl put her gum in my hair and Polly didn’t want to be late for her first day and Mom and Dad already were at work so I tried putting some of Polly’s hair stuff in my hair to get the gum out, but that didn’t work, so then I tried cutting it out and now I look like a weird space alien and Mom’s going to kill me and look at my hair it’s ruined forever and everybody’s gonna hate me -”

Betty came to a crashing stop, finally running out of air.  Jughead started to speak, to try and tell her it wasn’t that bad, a little uneven and unique, but it still wouldn’t make her any different of a person, but she was already too far gone for any attempt at optimism.

“I don’t want to go to school,” she wailed. Her proclamation made to the world, she tucked her head into the crook of her elbow and resumed her crying.

Distressed at so many tears - he’d never been able to stand anyone crying, doubly so now that his baby sister was able to articulate, in excruciating detail, why she was crying - Jughead tried to think of something to cheer Betty up.

“I thought you liked school.”

This only made Betty turn away from him.

Well.  Shit.  Where was Archie when you needed him?  Ah, right.  Rushing around after sleeping through his third alarm.

“Do you want to -” Jughead trailed off, unable to find any words at all.  Not even a ‘the.’

There was that one time in kindergarten, now that he thought about it, when he’d gotten gum in his hair.  It wasn’t a malicious thing, not like Cheryl’s act of terror.  Rather, Ethel had been chasing him on the playground, trying to get him to play house or something equally gross, and he’d tripped over his untied shoelaces.  And Ethel had fallen on top of him, her big wad of Fruit Stripe gum landing in the space between his beanie and his hair.  

His mother had thankfully been able to save the last thing he had from his favorite uncle.  Jughead, on the other hand, had to be shaved almost bald after his father attempted to fix the problem himself.

But hadn’t there been something about peanut butter first?  And hadn’t his mother made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich just this morning?

Jughead reached into his backpack and pulled out the square container.  Betty watched him, her tears now silent.  He pulled off the lid and peeled the bread apart.  Gingerly setting down the jelly half, he moved the peanut butter laden slice towards Betty.  

“What about -”

She caught his wrist before he could get close to her hair.  Through a sniffle, she reminded him, “The gum’s gone, Juggie.”

So what was the problem?  His face must have telegraphed his confusion because Betty let out a choked laugh.

“I ruined my hair trying to fix it.  If I got to school like this,” she gestured to her wrong sided mohawk, “everybody will make fun of me and I won’t have any friends.”

Still not sure what the problem was, Jughead put his sandwich back together and took a bite.  “Me and Archie will still be your friends,” he said.

Betty snorted and tore a piece of his sandwich off.  She popped it into her mouth and scrubbed at her cheeks.

“You two don’t count.”  At his offended look, she added, “you two will always be my friends.  I meant -”

“Everybody who counts.”

She sighed and nodded. 

As painful as her words might sound, Jughead wasn’t offended by them.  He knew what she meant, especially in a small town like this.  The Jones’ had a reputation that had most people on the north side of the tracks clutching their pearls as they delighted in gossip about them, while the Andrews’ were a sturdy family without interest in rising through the ranks of small-town society.  A society that bled down even to their children.

“You could wear a hat,” he suggested after a moment.  “What about that Kermit one you got last year?”

She shook her head.  “The house is locked.  And even if I wanted to, Ms. Crabapple doesn’t let us wear hats.”

Jughead took another bite and chewed, his jaw turning the gears in his head.  An idea brewed, one he hated with every ounce of his being.  It meant giving up a part of himself, becoming a part of everyone he hated in school.  

Across the hedge, Betty’s tears dripped onto her overalls.  The hot pink dots stared at him expectantly.  With a heavy sigh he pulled off his beanie and held it out to her.  She reached for it, paused, and stared at him.

“Take it.  I think you need it more than me today.”

Betty’s lower lip trembled, and Jughead steeled himself for another round of tears.  A door slammed shut behind him and he heard Archie’s voice.

“But -”

“Take it, Cooper, of Archie’s gonna get an eyeful of your Guile cosplay and I’m pretty sure he’s more of a Chun-Li type of guy.”

Betty took the beanie and gingerly slipped it over her head.  It covered her ill-inspired fringe and, unless she removed it, she looked like she did in the cold of winter.  

“If anybody asks, I lost a bet,” Jughead said.  He took the last bite of his sandwich, his stomach already protesting at the loss of lunch, and stood.  

Archie approached them, none the wiser to Betty’s follicle foibles, and said his hello’s to both her and Jughead. They walked to school together that day, like they always had, and if anybody noticed Betty wearing a beanie, they didn’t comment, though Mr. Finch did make a snide comment about Jughead finally growing up.  

(Best of all, Mrs. Cooper had sent Betty with an eggplant lasagna filled with three types of cheese, a lunch that Betty happily shared.)

That afternoon, they waited until Archie went inside to make the exchange.  

“Thanks,” Betty said softly.  She ran a hand through what was left of her hair and winced.  “Mom’s going to kill me.”

Jughead shrugged and slipped the beanie back to its rightful place.  The tension that had lined his body slipped away as it settled over his hair.  “I think she’d be more angry with Polly for not helping you.”

“Maybe.  Polly wouldn’t ever forgive me though.”  She scuffed at the ground between them.  “I really appreciate it.  You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“Like you said, we’re friends.  I don’t want to have to make an effort to find new ones.”

“Right,” Betty laughed.  “You’re not really good at that, huh?”

“The worst.  I’ll see you tomorrow, Betts.”

“Night, Juggie.”

[leelee10898]

Necessary Roughness

Pairing: Maxwell & Stephanie

Rating: Erotica.

We asked, you voted. The prompt: "You're going to regret that, sweetheart. The pairing I got was our favorite Beaumont's Stef and Max. A little naughty advice from fifty shades of Leo, we find these two love birds in some dominant territory.

This is from the CGW(CORDONIANS gone wild AU) a collaborative effort by @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @cocomaxley @riseandshinelittleblossom and myself.

Stephanie and Maxwell walked through the palace halls heading towards Alicia and Leo's quarters. Alicia was craving Lasagna,  with Pam, Genevieve, Liam and Anitah gone for a mental health conference. They invited Drake over, but he declined saying he wanted to go to the lake for a dew days and get some fishing in while Pam was away. Rashad was in the States for a few business meetings, and Stef and max gladly accepted.

“Are you going to completely ignore the conversation we had in the car Stef?”

“That was the plan, Max. When somebody is tired of talking about something, the tend to ignore it.” She rolled her eyes.

“But don't you think-” he was cut off by Stephanie knocking and Leo promptly opening the door.

“Hey guys, come in. Alicia has made entirely to much food, so I hope you're hungry.” He grinned as he moved aside, letting them in.

They sat down at the table, Alicia giving them salad to start followed by the Lasagna.  

“Man Tiger Lily, this is really good. Can I have some more?” Max danced in his seat. "You always want more." Stephanie mumbled to herself. Leo arched his brow at the two but kept quiet.

After a few jabs at each other finally Alicia spoke up. “Ok you two, you've been going at each other all night, what gives?”

“Its nothing.” Maxwell said quickly.

“Nothing? You seriously gonna say it's nothing?” Stephanie seethed. “Well, Maxwell is insisting-”

“Sex! It's about sex.” Maxwell hollered out causing Leo to choke on his drink. He took a minute to compose himself “If its a sex problem, maybe we can help.” Leo smirked resting his hand on Alicia's thigh. “yeah, you know one of us is pretty much a sex addict.” She giggled.

“One of you?” Stephanie snorted. “Bless your heart. I would definitely say Leo met his match with the sex drive.”

“its true, she's always ready. And we can't get enough of each other.” Leo smirked as he pulled Alicia in for a kiss.

“So what seems the be the issue?” Alicia Rolled her eyes at her husband.  

“Oh no real issue.” Stef pushed a piece of food across her plate. Alicia noticing Stephanie's hesitation to speak about what was bothering her.

“Stef, help me clear the table?”

Stephanie stood up and the two took the dishes to the sink.

“Ok, what gives?”

Stef let out a long sigh. “ I want him to change it up in the bedroom.”

“meaning?”

“Meaning I want him to be a little more dominant. Don't get me wrong, our sex life is amazing and all.” she chewed the inside of her mouth trying to find the right words.

“You want him to be a little more rough and controlling?” stephanie nodded.

Leo and Maxwell sat at the table, Maxwell mindlessly drumming his fingers.  “Ok man, spill. Whats going on?” Leo said pulling him from his thoughts. Max sat up in his seat. “You know you might just be the person to help me with this. You see, Stephanie asked me to choke her last night while we were in the middle of..” He trailed off.

“And you didn't?”

Max shook his head no. “I couldn't. She wants me to be a little more Dominant.”

“Ok breath play isn't a big deal Max. Just not to tight, and not to long. Wait a little before she climaxes to do it. Obviously if she's turning blue you're grip is to tight.” He chuckled.

“Also, put some authority in your voice when you're commanding her. Do not let her take any of the control unless you are telling her to, not asking. That's part of being dominant. And don't do it all the time. She is your wife and you will know when to play the card.” Maxwell sat there absorbing all of the information Leo continued to rattle off to him, nodding his head.

He was a little dominate in the bedroom already, but this was just the push he needed to rock his little rose buds world.

“Thanks Leo. I think I know just what I need to do.” Max stood abruptly “Stephanie, were going.” Stephanie glared at him “Maxwell, i was talking to-” “I said Now.” He barked. Stephanie stood in silence, stunned by her husbands sudden change. She grabbed her purse and said goodbye as Alicia and leo shared a knowing look.

They walked down the hall when Stephanie stopped abruptly “Maxwell,  that was rude. I was talking to Alicia and.” She was cut off by his lips meeting hers in a firey kiss. She placed her hands on his chest pushing him back. “Maxwell,  what the hell has gotten into you?”

He cocked his head to the side, his eyes dark with desire.  he licked his lips with anticipation as he grabbed her hand pulling her into a vacant room. “Clothes off, Now.” He demanded as he unfastened the buttons of his shirt, his eyes never leaving hers. She stood there stunned, she could feel the heat pooling in her wanting center. She didn't expect this from her normally carefree, go with the flow husband. “Don't make me rip them off red, clothes off, now.” He barked. She mindlessly pulled her shirt over her head and stepped out of her skirt, standing in only her bra and thong.

in a second maxwell was on her. His lips crashing against hers, their tongues tangling together like their lives depended on it. His fingers diligently worked to un fasten her bra, his lips leaving a fiery trail down her jaw to her neck, as they brushed across her now bare shoulder. He pushed her back against the wall, his lips making their way lower. “Max.” She breathed out as he left open mouthed kisses on both of her thighs. “Quiet. I didn't say you could speak.” He barked sending a jolt through her core, she whimpered out at the sensation he was goving her, and he hadn't touched her yet.

He lifted her leg, draping it over his shoulder. His fingers slipping between her wet folds. “mmmm that's so sexy. You like it when I touch you there. Hmm Rose bud.” He rasped out, a sudden flood of heat flooding to her core as he slipped two digits inside her wet center, his plush lips gently nipping and sucking her sensitive bundle. “Mmmmm fuck Max. Im gonna. Ooh fuuuuck.” She screamed as his long fingers pumped that perfect spot, a gush of her sweet nectar rushed out, he lapped up everything she gave him “Mmmm so delicious. You taste so sweet my Red. Wouldn't you agree?” he moaned as he lowered her leg and  slipped his fingers into her mouth. His eyes locked on hers as she sucked his fingers, releasing with a pop. A shiver rippled through him, his length desperate to escape its confines.

Something in her flipped she was craving him. She dropped to her knees, undoing his pants,letting them drop to the floor. She grasped the waistband of his boxers and yanked them down.  Her hand gripped his hard cock as she slowly pumped him a few times, her tongue swirling the tip teasing it a few times before parting her lips taking him in. He threw his head back, a deep guttural growl escaped his lips as his hands tangled in her strawberry locks. She bobbed her head, fast as she flicked her tongue against his length. “Fuck. Fuck rosebud. That feels. So. Ah. Fucking. God.” he moaned out as he watched himself disappear inside her mouth.

He wait a few minutes basking in the pure pleasure he was feeling “stef, stop baby. I'm not gonna last much longer,  I need to feel you.” he helped her up, his lips capturing hers as he lifted her up, carrying her to the bed and putting her down. His body hovering over hers he gripped his hard cock,  teasing her with his swollen tip. Stephanie bucked her hips into him, needing to feel the friction. “eh eh, red. Good things come to those who wait.”

“But. But Maxieeee.” she pouted he lifted a finger to silence her “Shhh. I didn't say you could talk did I?” he smirked as he pressed his hard length against her throbbing core, teasing her. “You're gonna regret that sweetheart.”

He gripped her hips slamming into her, Stephanie yelped at the sudden intrusion. “Do fucking tight, my rose bud. Always. So. Tight.” he bucked into her with force. He lifted her legs, letting them drape his shoulders. He gyrated his hips, Stephanie could feel her coil tightening as she gripped the sheets. “Fuck, Maxwell. Oh baby. Yes. Don't stop.” she moaned biting her lip.

“I won't stop until you're screaming my name. Come for me Red. Let me hear what I'm doing to you.” he picked up the pace, he pumped into her with fast, hard thrust. “Max, right there. God Yes. Oh fuck Maxwell.” she moaned as he slammed into her, his finger slipping between her legs, rubbing tight, fast circles against her clit, his free hand loosely around her throat. That was all it took.  “Yes, Yes. Max, fuck Yes maxwell. Oooooooooh Fuck!” She screamed as her coil snapped, she was seeing stars as she came completely undone, her juices fully coating his length. “Fffff fuck, stef.” His eyes rolled back in his head as he spilled himself inside her with a loud groan and a jerk, collapsing on the side of her.

They laid there catching their breath, both covered in a sheen of sweat. “Max, that was. I don't know what that was but it was-.”

“Hot?” He finished for her.

She nodded her head as nuzzled against him. “Ok, you win.” she sighed. He lifted his head arching his brow. “I win? You don't mean?”

“Yes Maxwell,  you can get the Emu. But it stays in Valtroia deal?”

“Deal.” Maxwell grinned as he leaned down kissing his wife.  “We should ah. Probably get going, i'm not really sure who's room this is and we kind of made a mess.”

The two dressed and quickly slipped out of the room and down the hall. They heard the clicking of a pair of heels stop and the sound of a door opening behind them. “What the hell? Who did this?” they heard the shriek of a woman come from behind them. “Uh oh.” Maxwell said as they rounded the corner. “What is it max?”

“I ah. Know whose room it was.” He let out a sheepish chuckle. Stephanie looked at him intrigued.  

“It was Madeleines.”

Tag: CGW: @annekebbphotography @carabeth @moneyfordiamonds @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @3pawandme @indiacater @ooo-barff-ooo @ownworldresident @tornbetween2loves @perfectprofessorherokid @stopforamoment @editboutique @wannabemc2 @zaffrenotes @enmchoices @lauradowning29 @lodberg @smalltalk88 @gibbles82 @heatherfilliez @drakesensworld @nikkis1983 @sweetest-marbear @classylady1234 @daniv2278 @rainbowsinthestorm @jared2612 @liamxs-world @notoriouscs @blubutterflyy @captain-kingliamsqueen @whenyourheartskipsabeat @lynne1993 @coldcollectornight08 @be-still-my-aching-heart @dcbbw

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[amazingmsme]

You’ve seen Umbrella Academy right? Got any headcanons for the siblings? :D

YES I DO! I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH! I'll do headcanons in order of their numbers. Putting it under the cut cause I got carried away & they got longer than expected 

Luther-my big boy-he's always really serious & so the others will try to do everything they can to make him laugh-like it's a game they play & whoever makes him laugh wins-one time Klaus won just by screaming "LOOK WHAT I CAN DO!" & just fucking decked Diego right in the face. Luther couldn't stop laughing for 5 minutes straight-when they would get too loud & their dad was gonna get onto them, he always tried to take the fall-he's a big ol softie-totally cries like a baby when any animal in a movie dies-his favorite food is lasagna. He'll eat the whole pan by himself if no one's watching him, so Grace usually had to make two just in case-his laugh is really loud & booming. Allison likes to tease him that it shakes the whole room-being the "oldest" he likes to pick on all the rest of them, even now when they're all adults -he's the biggest tickle monster ever omg he'll just scoop up anyone that's near & doesn't let them go until he feels like they've had enough-he's ticklish too tho, & if you think his siblings don't take advantage of that you're dead wrong-his underarms are definitely his worst. Whenever he holds something above one of their heads they just dig their fingers in under his arm & it comes crashing down

Diego-the angstiest lad-he would always wrestle with Luther when they were kids & pouted when Luther won-if he gets over excited or emotional his stutter will come back for a few seconds-he played the knife game a lot & one time accidentally stabbed his hand. Five & Klaus laughed their asses off as he cried & Grace had to doctor his hand-he always acts super tough & broody all the time but actually is a pretty sweet dork-he isn't the biggest fan of his laugh so he has a fake chuckle he uses instead. His family are all like "wtf that's not how you sound"-you ever heard Tom Hardy laugh? That's what he sounds like-it's really high pitched & bubbly -it embarrasses him so it takes effort to get him laughing like that, but if they ever want to hear it they just have to squeeze his knee & he falls back in loud laughter-he tries to act like he's not ticklish & will hold out for as long as he can before he gives up-his hips and thighs are the worst & he gets so desperate it's adorable-like he'll be a begging pleading mess after only a few seconds-no lie he pulled a knife on Five when he snuck up on him & squeezed his hips-he gets embarrassed about how ticklish he is & if anyone teases him about it he blushes SO hard

Allison-my cool daughter-she's literally so caring but doesn't always know how best to show it-the Mom Friend-after mending her relationship with Vanya they have sleepovers like once a month-if any of the siblings are sick she makes a big pot of soup-would kill for Claire if need be-the master of hide & seek cause she's played it so much with her daughter-a very teasy ler-she'll wiggle her fingers at you to let you know what's coming before chasing you-100% calls herself the tickle monster-has the sweetest laugh ever-her neck & knees are her sweet spots but her stomach is a close second-will literally screech if you scratch behind her ears

Klaus-the very definition of disaster gay(pan)-either looks like a trash ass hobo or an utter king, there's no in between-after he gets sober he practices his abilities practically day & night with Ben so he can summon Dave-once he finally does they hold each other for so long & Klaus cries for 15 minutes straight before he's able to speak coherently -Dave stays pretty consistently after that, tho not as much as Ben-the fact that no one ever takes him seriously actually hurts his feelings a good bit but he's Klaus so he can't let them know it affects him-pretty secretive about his power cause he doesn't like talking about it-tried his best to keep his ptsd a secret from the others but Diego picked right up on the signs & once things calmed down after the apocalypse he told the rest of the family-after getting better with his ability he summoned Ben so that the others could see him. He was the only one not to cry cause he's used to seeing him constantly(but he did tear up from seeing everyone so emotional)-says the most random things whether he's high or not-once ate a tube of toothpaste because he refused to go to the store & buy groceries -a very bouncy & giggly boy-just has so much pent up energy-everyone always gangs up on him cause he says something annoying or just cause-low key does things to provoke his siblings-if you get his ribs or underarms, congrats you've killed him-his feet are pretty bad as well-but his hips are def the worst. & since he's so skinny all you have to do is drill your thumbs into the bone to drive him up the wall insane-now that Ben can actually touch him without phasing through him he totally tickles him all the time-Klaus honestly likes being tickled cause he thinks it's fun & it helps him relax-but you better watch out, cause as he likes to say, karma is one hell of a bitch-he's super teasy, but in like a casual way? Like he can destroy someone while also having a completely normal conversation. He'll even sh them if they're laughing too loud!-loves to act oblivious while tickling you. He'll be all "why are you laughing, I'm not that funny! Oh I'm sorry, does that tickle? I didn't even notice"

Five-he's a very feisty boi-ultimate sass master -literally has a comeback for everything-he's really touch starved after spending so much time alone in the apocalypse -time traveling fucked with his brain so he mutters incoherently to himself a lot-hates that he appears younger than his siblings because he's older & wiser damnit!-uses his young appearance to his advantage tho, so it has its ups & downs-ever since his rediscovery of puppy dog eyes he can get almost whatever he wants-he can hide anywhere cause of his small size, so good luck trying to find him-misses Delores with all his heart. With his messed up mind he saw her as an actual person & losing her hurt him -he uses his ability to trap & corner his siblings so that he can attack them-like Diego or someone will tease him & try to sprint away only for Five to pop up in the doorway leaning casually like "oh I'm sorry, did you think I'd let you get away with that?" before he tickles him-he will show absolutely No Mercy, once he gets a hold of you, he won't let go until he feels like it-also uses his ability to dodge out of family tickle fights cause he knows they'll get him if he doesn't -like Klaus, he's also ganged up on, & it's even easier since he's tiny compared to the rest of them-his laugh is a really loud cackle & his eyes & nose scrunch up a lot, it's adorable-he swears like a sailor when tickled & thrashes around, but nothing really helps-he claims he's "too old for this shit" but Luther's like "you're never too old for this" before straight up murdering him

Ben-my dead son-it's hard for him to see all of his family but being unable to interact with them-he just wishes he can hug them & talk to them one more time-when Klaus finally made it happen, he was so overjoyed it was the sweetest thing ever-sick & tired of all the hentai jokes unless he's the one making them-used to be embarrassed about his power but now realizes how cool he is-was already bffs with Klaus when he was alive but they've gotten closer now that he died-pretty easy going & wants to have fun-helped keep everyone together & kept them from tearing each other's throats out, so once he hit the dust the family just kinda drifted apart-the fact that he has powers helps him stay around even when Klaus is high. Plus he's just stubborn & doesn't want to leave -gets kinda sad when he sees the other kids messing around & targeting each other cause he can only watch-his worst spots are his back, stomach & hips & he basically will go limp if you tickle him, he just gives up-has really breathy laughter-will tear up 5 seconds after laughing my precious boy-after he gets the hang of his powers, Klaus surprised him out of nowhere & attacked him for no reason-he claimed he was making up for lost time but Ben said he was just being mean-he'd be lying tho if he said he didn't enjoy every second of it

Vanya-my sweet baby dear, poor child-she's only just now learning to love herself-has major trust issues, & the shit with Harold did NOTHING to help-cried for like a week after the apocalypse cause she just feels so guilty & sorry-mended her relationship with Allison & loves her sister so much-almost cried when Claire called her Aunt Vanya-very claustrophobic-as much as she loves classical music, she also really loves classic & alternative rock-Diego literally had to beg her to play The Devil Went Down to Georgia but he managed to convince her & everyone was #shook-gets really embarrassed when anyone compliments her about anything & tries to deny it-apologizes over the smallest things. Allison told her she doesn't have to & she's trying to break the habit-really enjoys practicing with her power now that she knows she has it. She's gotten a lot better at controlling it-still pretty scared of Luther. He's apologized for everything & she forgave him but she can't help but flinch if he moves too quickly towards her, & it kinda breaks his heart -even more touch starved than Five cause while he had a childhood with the others, she was isolated & alone & had very little contact. It wasn't until after the apocalypse that she experienced a true genuine hug-always got sad when the others would play around & laugh & have fun cause it was one more thing she wasn't included in, so she's used to just hiding away by herself to practice -was barely ever the target during a tickle fight so she barely even remembers what it feels like-she honestly thinks she's grown out of it(spoiler alert: she hasn't)-a tickle fight breaks out while she's reading in the living room & out of habit she tries to go to her room cause she's used to disappearing without being noticed but Five teleports in front of her & is like um where the hell do you think you're going?-so she's like "to go read?" & by this point they have Allison & Diego's attention & Five's all "so you think you can just slink away scot free?" She tells him she's not ticklish & he belts out a laugh "I seem to remember otherwise" "well you're also like 60 so..." & that's how they found out she's still extremely ticklish-they never let her live it down-I mean they gotta make her feel included right? So it would be rude not to-her ears/neck, sides, & feet are death spots, she can't handle it-not much of a ler, but when she is she uses her skilled musician's hands to utterly wreck you, but overall she's pretty gentle-when she hears laughter her powers kinda go nuts(it's just a genuinely pure sound so she tends to really focus on it)& if it's her own laughter then it's even harder for her to control her abilities cause that fact makes her embarrassed & jittery so it takes her a while to calm down

Sorry this took so long, I've been pretty busy! But I had such a blast writing these so if you'd like to hear more or just want to talk about UA hit me up cause I'm always down to screech about my children(you can probably tell who my favorites are based off the length of each of their headcanons)

[nth-generation-kpop]

So Nothing’s Left Unturned

Chapter: 5/?

Word count: ~2000

Summary:  Somehow, Woojin couldn’t quite feel bad for ending things. Somehow, Chan couldn’t quite feel bad about kicking Changbin out. Somehow, the two couldn’t quite stay away from each other. 

Chapter V -- These Streets

Kim Woojin was in way over his head with this one, and he knew it.

The following Thursday afternoon found him still in a relationship, in a familiar apartment, lying in the arms of one boy but thinking of another. He traced lazy patterns against Doyun’s stomach, wondering how he got this far. He was supposed to be watching some campy, over-testosteroned action film with badly executed dialogue and even worse graphics-- his boyfriend’s favorite type of movie. Woojin spaced out almost immediately, and what his mind wandered to was troubling though not surprising.

After his discussion with Chan at the party, Woojin was convinced he simply needed to put in the work. Relationships aren’t always easy, and this was the part where the work came in. He texted Doyun, feigned loneliness, and they headed back to the party 10 minutes later, together. He said that he didn’t think Doyun would like hanging out with a bunch of his friends and Doyun promised that if he got bored he’d drag Woojin out for something more fun. Half an hour into being there Doyun was anxious to leave and Woojin actively ignored him until it was too blatant to be ignored by their friends. They left, went back to Woojin’s apartment instead. They’d talked about how it seemed harder lately, how they both were having a hard time. They agreed that they were good together, that they would put in more effort, and they spent the night together. It was all good, great, except it wasn’t.

He wasn’t a big party person, but he felt a pang of bitterness as they left. Chan looked sad when he’d said goodbye, and after the talk they’d had he felt incredibly guilty for bailing. Or maybe he was imagining the fake smile and the sadness in Chan’s eyes. Maybe he wasn’t even regretful of having left the party, and feelings from a long time ago were simply peaking through. He’d buried them so long ago that he didn’t know what to do now. He had no idea how to deal with them, right after he’d committed to working things out with his current boyfriend.

Who was boring. And way less genuine than Bang Chan. And had horrible taste in TV.

But the issue was that Woojin was still dating Doyun, actively cuddling with him, while reconsidering his goal to make things work. All he wanted to do was be with Chan again, and that guilt was eating away at him. He sat up, patting Doyun's chest and climbing off the couch.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I've just got an early morning tomorrow. I'm picking up an extra shift, and then I've got class,” Woojin lied smoothly, bending down to kiss Doyun quickly. “I want to get some extra sleep and the movie isn’t… catching my attention.”

“Okay, is everything alright?” Doyun was still half watching the movie, blatantly, and Woojin repressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, of course. Just tired.” He grabbed his coat and promised to lock the door on his way out, waving as he tried to leave both quickly and casually.

As he walked, his mind cycled through a million things. He thought about how Doyun was different than all his other relationships. They had a lot in common, Woojin thought, but in all the wrong ways. When he met Doyun he’d been excited to meet someone clean cut, with goals and ambitions and timelines-- who looked so good on paper. He tended to love boys who lived in the abstract, artsy or creative, with lofty goals of Manhattan galleries and Park Avenue high rises. Even the more salt-of-the-earth ones were intelligent, held this intoxicating depth that left Woojin drunk off of their conversations. His boys lit a fire in him, inspired him, and when he met Doyun he felt that same fire.

When he reached his own apartment, he locked the door and then slid to the floor against it, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. The fire he felt died out as soon as it ripped through Doyun's paper thin persona, nothing to sustain it further than that besides wishful thinking. They didn't talk about things that didn't matter, let alone things that did. Where he could bring up stupid debates like is lasagna a layer cake for stupid fun with the others, Doyun would just brush them off. ‘That's a weird question’ or ‘why does it matter’ or Woojin's absolute favorite, a dismissive ‘you're so funny.’ They were juvenile questions, and Woojin told himself he must need to grow up. This was a real adult relationship, one that could go somewhere and be stable for a long time. He didn't have to worry about Doyun chasing his dreams in some distant city or moving for an exclusive apprenticeship or secretly living out of his car because ‘starving artist’ was his brand no matter how many clay busts of Janet Jackson or whatever he sold on Etsy. A real adult relationship, latched onto him and sucking his soul right out of his body.

Had he brooded over this long enough to settle the decision to break things off though? Thinking about Chan reminded him how long it had been since he was truly alone, single and not courting the idea of his next relationship through flirtatious something or others. He’d also never craved it before, being single. Of course, with Bang Chan in the back of his mind he wasn't 100% confident that single is what he would be after following his impending break up.

Their little talk ruined everything. He read way too far into what Chan had said about needing time, and hearing his friend talk about not thinking himself worthy of a relationship just made Woojin want to love him fiercely. It made him think back to 2 or 3 years before when they first met, racking his brain for any indication that maybe he'd been wrong. So he did what he always did when he was at a loss with Bang Chan, he texted Jisung.

Woojinnie-hyung Weird question…

Jisungie Is it one of those buzzfeed ‘is water wet’ bullshit questions again? Please no.

Woojinnie-hyung No, it's about Chan. We talked the other day and… I don't know I was just wondering if he's ever dated anyone that you know of?

Jisungie Uhhhh, this feels kind of weird I don't want to talk about him behind his back but no? Unless he's hiding it from everybody and we all know Bang Chan is a terrible liar

Woojinnie-hyung Sorry, I shouldn't put you in this position, it's nothing serious. I'm just curious I guess

Jisungie It's okay, it's because you care about him

Woojinnie-hyung Yeah

Jisungie I'm not going to ask what you talked about because that's between you two but… why now? Why are you curious all of the sudden

Woojinnie-hyung Ahh, well its mostly because of what we talked about. It was the other night at his party

Jisungie Right, I noticed that Doyun showed up really late and you left really early… u okay?

Woojinnie-hyung Yes and no, it’s complicated. I fixed things last weekend but it just ended up breaking things more I think, I don't know

Woojinnie-hyung He's not what I want.

Jisungie No offense but I could have told you that a month ago 

Woojinnie-hyung Wow thanks

Jisungie I know it's a shitty thing to say but it's true

Woojinnie-hyung I actually kind of appreciate it… I need to hear it so I know I'm not crazy for wanting to break up with him when he's sort of perfect

Jisungie Everybody is perfect for someone, he's just not perfect for you

Woojinnie-hyung When did you get so smart

Jisungie Ahh, I'm blushing But seriously, I've known you for X NUMBER OF YEARS right? I know exactly who you're perfect for by now

Woojinnie-hyung Oh really, well send them my way why don't you

Jisungie Now where is the fun in that? I may have been Cupid for Halloween but this love god is all about autonomy 😜 you know what you're doing, just trust yourself

Woojinnie-hyung What would I do without you, Jisung?

Jisungie Let's hope for your sake you never have to find out

“If you're going to stay there that's fine, but I think Seungmin is on his way home…” a voice came from the doorway to the kitchen, making Woojin jump.

“Shit, hi.” Woojin hauled himself off the floor and smiled at his roommate. “I didn't realize you were awake.”

Hwang Hyunjin was a dancer, one with incredible discipline and a fairly rigid routine that had him in bed by 10pm and out of the house for training by 7am every day. Some weeks he felt like he barely saw the boy, let along talked to him except on weekends. He was tall, lithe, and one of Woojin's most talented and hardworking friends. They'd moved in together on a whim when Hyunjin was a freshman along with Kim Seungmin and it had been a roaring success.

“Yeah I’m awake... are you okay?”

Woojin sighed. “I’m… okay.”

“You sure?”

“Nope.” Woojin smiled, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder and heading down the hall.

“You can talk to me. Seungmin too,” Hyunjin said, making Woojin turn around.

“I… thanks. I might take you up on that sometime, but uh… not tonight?”

“Yeah, sure. Just… we like you, I consider you as a friend not just a roommate. I hope you feel that way too.”

Woojin smiled, crossing the room to hug Hyunjin. “I really do. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They parted ways, and at least Woojin went to bed feeling lighter. Doyun or not, he’d always have his friends, and that’s all he really needed.

If only that didn’t get him thinking about Bang Chan once again, he would have slept soundly that night.

~~~~~

A couple days later, Chan’s phone vibrated in his pocket as he was closing his fridge. He half expected it to be his mother or his father, maybe one of his siblings, but he definitely didn’t expect the name that flashed at the top of his screen. Setting aside the cold bottles, Chan hesitated a moment before answering the call in a low voice. “Hey.”

“Hi. Chan.” He said it as if he was surprised, as if it was two separate thoughts. Not quite a question, but as if he was reassuring himself of something.

Chan didn’t know how to answer. “You never actually call me.”

“I call you!”

That made him smile. “You text me, that’s different,” he pointed out.

Woojin hesitated. “I call you”

Chan clicked his tongue. “You call me when I’m late for something and—” he stopped short. “And when you break up with your boyfriends”

“Yeah.” Something stirred in Chan’s stomach as they sat in silence, and he pulled the phone away from his ear to check whether Woojin had hung up. “I should call more”  

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s good. I wasn’t… happy. This thing with Doyun, it was throwing everything off. It’s good.”

“I was actually just going to order takeout… do you want to come over?”

“Yeah, I was… well I’m standing outside that ramen place you like, so I could pick that up? I was going to pick that up, but then I thought I should make sure you weren’t busy.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“I know your order, can I be there in half an hour?”

“Of course, come over whenever.”

“Thanks Chan.” There was a sadness in Woojin’s voice that Chan didn’t quite recognize, a longing that hadn’t been there for all the other boyfriends. It tore at his heart, but at this point he wasn’t sure if that was because he was seeing his friend in pain, or because he was seeing a man he had feelings for broken up over another.

“Of course,” he said, but Woojin had already hung up.

He stared at his phone until Woojin’s contact photo disappeared, then he quickly turned around and stuck his head into the living room. Changbin sat cross-legged on his couch, mouth open, chopsticks poised to stuff a dumpling into his mouth until Chan called his name.

“Sorry. I need you to leave. And take the food with you.”

“Now?” The younger boy looked down at their numerous takeout boxes.

“Yes. Share with Felix, or keep it for leftovers, I don’t care I just need you to be gone by the time Woojin gets here.”

Changbin gave him a knowing look. “Jisung said he was going to--”

“Yeah, he did.”

“And you’re what?” He raised an eyebrow at Chan, almost judging. “Be here to pick up the pieces like always.”

“That’s enough for me,” Chan assured him (and himself).

Changbin huffed, shoving the dumpling in his mouth and beginning to pack up the rest. “It shouldn’t be. Maybe it doesn’t have to be.”

“It does,” Chan said. “For now, at least, it does.”