#so it was ready for stir fry by lunch time

[uncultureddoubloon]

I've been feeling absolutely miserable, but I finally got off my ass and made a giant thing of stir fry (plenty of leftovers), have a kitty cat back on my lap, and am booting up Stardew Valley. Things are a little less bad now

[toastsnaffler]

friends are making plans to go stay with each other but it's the weekend I'm going to see my favourite band. the universe fucking hates me

[steddieas-shegoes]

Mama Munson cannot cook.

She cannot bake.

She can barely make a grilled cheese without burning it.

But Wayne can cook.

He can bake.

He makes grilled cheese with tomatoes and garlic butter.

Eddie is raised with Wayne’s superior cooking and baking skills, and until he’s a teenager and goes to other friend’s houses, thinks that the “men of the family” are responsible for cooking and baking.

Wayne’s gotten aprons, and cooking utensils, and baking pans for Christmas and his birthday as long as Eddie’s lived with him.

Up until he’s too old according to his friends, he helps him in the kitchen.

Mama Munson watches the shift, but her and Wayne agree not to push.

They watch his diet do what most teenage boy diets do: turn to cereal and sandwiches at all hours of the day and night, some pizza sprinkled in when money allows.

Wayne still cooks, but his shifts turn into overtime hours, and then doubles, and he spends most of his time at home sleeping.

Eddie doesn’t seem to care, or at least not visibly.

His lunchbox is never stuffed with any food anyway, his mama isn’t dumb enough to not notice what he’s doing after school two or three days a week.

And then she almost loses him because the town turns upside down, almost literally, and everyone shuns them even more than they already did.

Not Steve Harrington, though.

He shows up every day after his volunteer shift with a grocery bag or two of fresh produce and jars and boxes and gets busy cooking. Nothing is ever that lavish, but there’s always a pop of flavors coming through even in the most simple dish.

She pretends she doesn’t see the way Eddie’s eyes widen after the first bite of whatever dish Steve’s made, reminiscent of when Wayne used to be able to cook for them almost every night. She pretends not to see the way Steve watches, waits for Eddie to show he likes it, relaxing into his chair and taking his own bite only after Eddie takes a second one.

She looks at Wayne, who’s pretending the same thing, but not hiding it well behind a knowing smirk.

Eddie starts spending more time in the kitchen with Steve, helping cut up vegetables and stirring as they talk, like he did with Wayne when he was younger.

Wayne goes back to work, but Steve always has a lunch packed for him with the leftovers so he doesn’t feel completely left out, blushes when Wayne hugs him on his way out the door. Eddie watches with a fond smile, and Mama Munson doesn’t say anything even though she should.

She’s seen what happens to boys who like straight boys firsthand, can’t be completely certain Steve’s a safe bet yet, even with the looks he throws and the care he gives. She thinks maybe he’s just a nice kid who loves his people.

But she wakes up one morning to whispering in the kitchen, and she knows Wayne isn’t home yet from his shift, so it has to be Eddie and someone else.

She sneaks out of her bedroom to see Eddie sitting on the counter, sweatpants on without a shirt, and Steve standing between his legs, cupping his face in his hands.

She’s certain that Steve left last night after she went to bed, she heard the front door open and close. But she looks closer and sees Steve’s wearing one of Eddie’s band shirts and the Christmas flannel pants Eddie got last year in his stocking.

So Steve didn’t leave, maybe wouldn’t leave ever if she was reading their faces right.

She decided not to interrupt them, sneaking back into her room and getting ready for work.

There’d be plenty of time for her to question Eddie about it, about Steve, about his feelings and if he was happy.

When she did finally go out to the kitchen, Steve was frying bacon and flipping an omelet in a pan while Eddie was sipping on a cup of coffee.

She kissed the top of Eddie’s head, then pulled Steve down to her level so she could kiss the top of his.

“Guess it’s about time we try your breakfast since you’ve been spoilin’ us with dinner for so long.”

Steve and Eddie’s matching red faces told her everything she needed to know.

[wosohermoso]

Lucy Bronze - Live Stream

Warnings: Fluff?, none

Lucy and readers relationship becomes known after Lucy accidentally shows affection during a live stream.

This one is really short I am sorryyyy

It was five thirty in the evening and I had just propped up my phone ready for an instagram live. Being a content creator meant that I could indulge in my job - sometimes - from the comfort of my own home. I gathered all my ingredients on the counter as I kept a close eye on all of the followers and comments popping up on the screen.

“Hello everyone” I smile, half of my attention directed at trying to find the herbs in the cupboard above me. I was planning on cooking whilst live streaming, something I did quite often. Cooking brought me joy, and evidently brought joy to my viewers too.

Once I had gathered my ingredients, I sit myself down on the barstool - that I had taken from the other side of the kitchen - in front of the counter, to give the viewers a proper welcoming.

“Hey guys” I grin, my eyes flicking between the fair few comments that were already flying down the chat box.

[ Are you cooking?!

Hellooo

How are you y/n

Where is Lucy

What are you cooking?

Luciaaaa

Ily ]

“I’m cooking chicken wraps” I chuckle. “Quick and easy”

I scan the screen for more comments.

“Lucy should be on her way home I think. Shes been at training” I reply to the increasing amount of fans that were asking about her.

Myself and Lucy lived together. We had been living together for the past year as well as dating, but the public didn’t officially know that, although a lot of Lucy’s fans had suspicions. Being a content creator and advocate for women’s football meant that I was constantly online, and had very much noticed the edits that fans had made of the pair of us. A lot of the time I’d show Lucy and we’d giggle at them knowing that although our relationship was supposed to be private, the fans just knew.

I turn on the cooker and heat up a pan whilst chuckling at all the comments.

“Chicken, yes” I reply to someone who had re-asked what I was cooking, a lot of people answering for me in the chat box.

“I’m gonna get straight into it because I’m starving, but we can chat whilst I’m at it. Have you guys had your dinner yet?” I ask to engage with my viewers.

I begin cutting up the chicken, seasoning it with the herbs and spices that I had gathered from the cupboards before chucking it in the pan to fry off.

What have you done today

“Today-” I reply as I watch the chicken cook in the pan and recall my day. “I helped out with some promotion with the lionesses.. which will be up in a few days. And then I went to lunch with a few friends which was nice.. and now I’m just cooking dinner with you guys”

“So a busy day, but not too strenuous which is great” I laugh.

Once the chicken was cooked I throw in some peppers, add a tiny bit more seasoning and stir them all together. After a short while of speaking with my viewers I take everything out of the pan, reaching for the tortillas.

Just as I was spooning the mixture into a tortilla I hear the front door slam and a familiar pair of keys jingle through the house. I grin at the screen knowing that my viewers would be thrilled to know that Lucy was home.

[ Is that Lucy?

Where is Lucy

Dinner is served miss Bronze

LUCIAAA ]

“Hello” Lucy mumbles as her feet pad through the kitchen towards me.

“Tired?” I raise a brow and she pouts at me.

“Yeah” She huffs as she approaches me swiftly, heading straight into shot as she wraps her arms around me and gives me a small kiss on the side of the mouth. I panic slightly knowing that we were live, but not enough to show, as I carefully prize myself off of her.

“I’m live” I smile innocently, watching her head bolt in the direction of my phone.

“Oh-” She strains out, sitting down on the bar stool to look at the phone to try her very best to divert any attention on us away.

“Whats for dinner” She grins, looking knowingly at the comments as she tries to compose herself.

“Fajitas” I state, pursing my lips together at the flood of comments flying through my phone.

I continue to wrap up the fajita, handing one to Lucy as the pair of us watch the screen in bewilderment before Lucy gasps in excitement, grabbing the Fajita from my hands.

“The best thing-” She takes a bite, “about living with Y/n-” She swallows, “is that I am always fed well” She grins like a child at the screen, trying to completely ignore the comments.

The both of us look at each other. It was a knowing look. Neither of us had to say anything to know that the both of us were thinking the exact same thing. They know, no point hiding it.

Lucy places her hand on the small of my back to bring me in closer to her, my arm subconsciously draping over her seated shoulders as she brings the half eaten fajita to my mouth to let me have a bite.

“Yum.” She states placing a small peck on my jaw before lifting herself up from the stool.

[ SHIPPPPP

I knew it🤭

DID THEY KISS

WHAT😮

WHAT IS GOING ON

We were right….

Oh.. my.. god ]

“I’m gonna go take a shower, i’ll leave you to deal with all of this” She laughs as she holds onto my waist to stable herself. “Save me some” She pleads with a small smile before peering down at the live stream.

“I will see you all in a sec” She says before heading off to shower.

I sit down on the stool, reading all the comments with an embarrassed, but relived smile. Maybe people knowing about us wasn’t too bad after all, even if it did come out in ways we didn’t plan.

“She��s gone to shower” I wince at all the comments.

“Yes, she’ll be back”

[petermorwood]

Sunday lunch, or - since what with one thing and another we ate closer to dinnertime, it might be more of a Sunday dinch. :->

It was Moroccan-style braised lamb shanks, and it was really good; after 24 hours or marination and about three hours of slow cooking, the lamb was literally off-the-bone edge-of-the-fork tender.

Because the spicing was so complex (though NB like most North African dishes, not hot) we went for a simple accompaniment, plain couscous with a few strips of home-made preserved lemon to balance the deep, rich flavours.

I also included a dab of harissa with mine, and a couple of pickled chillis for zing.

Meat and recipe both came from Irish on-line source James Whelan.

I think this would work well in a slow-cooker.

BTW, on-line recipes like this can change with the seasons, so I'm adding it below the cut.

*****

For a more fragrant and pungent dish, the lamb can be covered in clingfilm and marinated in the fridge for up to 24 hours to allow the spices to penetrate the meat. The accompanying couscous can be jazzed up with pistachio nuts and dried fruits.

Moroccan Style Braised Lamb Shanks – Printer Friendly Download

Ingredients

4 lamb shanks, well trimmed

1 tablesp. paprika

1 teasp. each ground coriander, cumin, cinnamon and turmeric

Sea salt and cracked black pepper

2 tablesp. olive oil

1 large onion, roughly chopped

2 garlic cloves, chopped

2½ cm piece peeled fresh root ginger, chopped

450ml chicken or lamb stock

2 x 400g cans chopped tomatoes

1 tablesp. clear honey

Squeeze of lemon juice

Serve with a bowl of couscous

Serves: 4

To Cook

Cooking Time: 2¾ hours

Preheat the oven to Gas Mark 3, 160ºC (325ºF).

Heat a large frying pan.

Mix together the paprika, coriander, cumin, cinnamon, turmeric and one teaspoon of pepper in a large bowl.

Add the lamb shanks and using your hands rub in the spices.

Add a little of the olive oil to the heated pan and quickly brown off two of the spiced lamb shanks.

Transfer to a casserole dish with a lid and repeat with the remaining lamb shanks.

Meanwhile, place the onion, garlic and ginger in a food processor or mini-blender and pulse until finely minced.

Add another tablespoon of the olive oil to the pan, then add the onion mixture and sauté for 3-4 minutes until well softened and coloured from the spices left in the bottom of the frying pan.

Pour a little of the stock into the pan, stirring to combine and then tip over the lamb shanks.

Add the remaining stock with the tomatoes and honey, stirring gently until evenly combined.

Cover with the lid and cook for 2-2½ hours until the lamb shanks are meltingly tender and the meat is ready to fall off the bone.

Add a squeeze of lemon juice and season to taste.

We hope you enjoyed reading this post by Pat Whelan of James Whelan Butchers. Pat is a 5th generation butcher, cook book author and the director of  James Whelan Butchers with shops in Clonmel, the Avoca Handweavers Rathcoole and Kilmacanogue, Dunnes Stores Cornelscourt, Rathmines and Swords in Dublin. 

[harry-on-broadway]

Loving You Always: A Tying You to Me Extra

Word Count: 5.8K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M

***

It was the countdown Quinn noticed first. One of those widgets you could add to the home screen of your phone. There wasn’t a picture or description, but 34 days were left when she first saw it and she quickly tried to calculate what the date could mean. 

It wasn’t the end of Harry’s tour and the date didn’t correspond to any notable birthdays or anniversaries. Unless it was something new Harry had up his sleeve, she had no clue what it could be. 

“Big plans for the summer?” Quinn tried hard to sound casual when she brought it up later that night. Harry was chopping vegetables for a stir-fry as she heated oil in the pan. He paused, a thoughtful smirk on his face, and Quinn could almost hear the wheels spinning in his head as he thought of a sarcastic retort. 

“Well, I’m just making a quick trip over a castle in a couple of days. Have a few more shows here and there but nothing too exciting.” He looked up from the cutting board and flashed her his trademark grin. 

“Nothing else though. No other shows? No filming or fashion things? Like say in 34 days?” Harry’s eyes were back on the vegetables, and at the mention of the date, his hand slipped, the knife nicking the tip of his finger. 

“Shit.” 

“Oh, Harry.” Quinn spun around behind her grabbing a clean paper towel, doubling it over before pressing it against the small cut. “Hold that there,” she said, turning back to toss some of the cut vegetables into the pan. “Is it still bleeding?”.

“No, it wasn’t too bad. Just startled me more than anything. But that’s what I get for letting you distract me.” 

“I distracted you?”

“Yeah, you’re interrogating me when I’m chopping vegetables,” Harry teased. 

“Your hand slipped. I’m sorry, but how is that my fault???” 

“You’re getting all in my business asking weirdly specific questions that make no sense.” 

Quinn flushed, feeling only slightly guilty that she’d been so nosy. “I’m just trying to…plan some things out.” 

“Oh? Like what?”

“I don’t know, lunch?”

“You want to plan a lunch…34 days from now.”

“Yeah.” Quinn held his gaze, unrelenting. 

“You’re something else woman.” He shook his head, the grin never leaving his face. “Inflicting pain on your poor boyfriend, on his well deserved day off. Keep this up and we’ll see if I get you a rin–” Harry blanched, and then cleared his throat. “But, uh, to answer your question, it’s a work meeting that I can’t miss so I’ll have to pass on lunch that day.”

“With Columbia?” The words came out faster than Quinn intended, as she tried to process the words that had almost come out of Harry’s mouth.

“Yeah.” Harry looked at his finger. “Looks like it’s not a serious wound. I’m going to wash up and then I can chop some more if you need it.”

“That would be great.” Quinn’s voice sounded strange to her own ears. “I think we might need more broccoli and carrots.” She went back to pushing vegetables around the pan, paying careful attention and trying to distract herself from the thoughts currently racing through her mind. 

The countdown was the furthest thing from her mind as she fixated and the single word Harry had almost said – ring.  

Rings had been top of mind since he’d given her that trinket after Christmas. While it mostly lived upstairs in the jewelry tray he’d made for her, Quinn had been known to pick it up and put on her left ring finger when she was alone, savoring the physical and symbolic weight of it and praying that a real one would be coming soon. 

Harry returned to her side, chopping and tossing a few more veggies into the pan before pulling dishes from the cabinet. He made no mention of his earlier remark while they ate and it didn’t come up as they cleaned up the kitchen or watched a film after dinner. In fact, Quinn had nearly forgotten about it by the time they were getting ready for bed, until she saw Harry fidgeting with his phone. 

She almost brought it up again, wanting to investigate further, but thought better of the impulse. Harry didn’t take kindly to prying and, after more than six years, she knew the best way to get him to open up was to let him come to her. When he climbed out of bed to fill his glass of water she snuck one glance at his phone and saw that the countdown had disappeared. 

“Lights out?” Harry asked, standing by the switch. 

“Mmhmm,” Quinn said, flicking on her bedside lamp. She opened up her book and watched Harry over top of the pages. He was nonchalant, shuffling across the room, climbing under the covers, and giving her a kiss before turning onto his side and quickly falling asleep. 

Quinn turned a few pages not retaining any of the words. Maybe Harry’s slip of the tongue earlier meant nothing, but as she turned off her light and curled up next to Harry, thoughts of rings, dresses, and weddings danced through her head. 

***

“Jeff, have you seen my parents?” Quinn asked. She’d been doing laps backstage for the last hour and hadn’t managed to locate them. Seeing as this was only their second time at Wembley, she was slightly concerned. 

“Can’t say I have,” Jeff said. “Tommy, have you seen them?” Tommy shook his head and went back to his ongoing conversation. “Sorry, Quinn, Maybe they went out to their seats?”

“Maybe…” Quinn said, unconvinced. “Thanks.”

She headed towards the exit of the room that served as the main hub backstage, preparing to do another lap when she saw her mom, dad, and brother, Alex, being led towards her, escorted by Harry. 

“Oh my God, where were you guys? I’ve been looking all over for you!” Quinn exclaimed, trying not to sound as concerned as she felt. “Did you get lost?”

“I’ll have you know we knew exactly where we were going,” her mother chided. “Harry was giving us a backstage tour, dear. No need to worry.”

“I could have done that, Mom. Harry’s busy. He’s supposed to be onstage in…” She glanced at her watch. “Like 45 minutes.” 

“It was no problem,” Harry said cheerfully. “Nice way for me to calm the nerves before the show.” 

“If you say so…” Quinn glanced at her father, hoping to get him on her side, but instead saw a weird mix of emotions across his face. “Dad, are you alright?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed. You see the stadium on TV and it doesn’t look that big but in person…” He took a deep, shuddering breath. 

Quinn shot Harry a look, silently seeking an answer from him, only getting a shrug in return. 

“As Quinn so kindly reminded me, I should probably head off and start getting ready,” Harry said apologetically. “But make yourself at home and I’ll see you all later.” He planted a pert kiss on Quinn’s temple and made his way to his dressing room. 

Quinn’s father sniffed and blinked rapidly as her mother cheerfully patted his back. Quinn looked over at Alex who, just like Harry, shrugged. 

“Well,” Quinn said. “I guess we can go to the green room and maybe grab some food? I think Anne and some of Harry’s family are already there.” 

Quinn’s parents set off in the direction she pointed and instead of following them, she hung a few steps back, pulling her brother alongside her. 

“What the hell is wrong with Dad?” she whispered. 

“How am I supposed to know? You know how weird he gets when he’s jet-lagged.” 

Quinn stared at Alex. Something was wrong and she hoped it had nothing to do with Harry. He’d met her parents on numerous occasions, joined in on phone calls and Zooms, and even made an appearance at Christmas one year. As great as that was, the unfortunate fact was that it didn’t feel like nearly enough time, and a small part of her wondered if her parents resented that they didn’t get to see her or Harry as often as they should. Her parents had never expressed any reservations, but maybe something had happened. 

Alex continued to walk behind their parents but Quinn grabbed his arm pulling him back. “What went wrong on the tour?”

He pursed his lips and looked thoughtful before shaking his head. “Nothing I can think of.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” 

Quinn looked defeated. She didn’t know why but she thought her dad’s weird behavior could be connected to whatever weirdness she’d seen on Harry’s phone, but she remained answerless and even more confused. “Well, if something does happen, you’ve got to let me know.” 

Alex nodded and they started walking to catch up to her parents. After a moment, he spoke up. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you this, Quinn, but I really like Harry. Like obviously no one is ever going to be good enough for you, but he’s a decent guy. And I’m not just saying that because we got a free trip to London because of him.”

“Oh, well that’s good to know.”

“I’m serious, Quinn. He’s exactly the kind of person you deserve to be with and I hope you see that.” 

Quinn stared blankly. She and her brother were close, but they weren’t close in the share-your-feelings-all-of-the-time way. “Thank you,” she replied cautiously. “Um, I’m pretty fond of Harry myself.”

Alex chuckled. “Funny you say that. Harry said the exact same thing.” 

“What?”

“Yeah, you two are really meant to be.” Her brother quickened his pace leaving Quinn behind, stunned. 

That night as Quinn brushed her teeth she watched Harry in the mirror. He was snuggled beneath the comforter, having showered before they left the venue. His curls were untamed, the clip that usually held them back discarded on the nightstand by his glasses as he squinted at the paperback book in his hand, a sure sign that he was more tired than he was letting on. 

She formulated her plan as she rinsed her mouth. 

“Big day today, huh?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighed thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve fully processed it.” 

“Mmm, yeah.” Quinn rubbed some lotion onto her hands, trying her best to appear nonchalant. “My parents were raving about how amazing you were and how incredible the venue was. Did they mention anything to you when you gave them that tour?”

If she’d have blinked she would have missed it, but Harry stiffened, his relaxed posture vanishing for a split second before he recovered. “No, they didn’t say anything like that. Your dad was just hung up on how everything’s backwards here.”

“Yeah, that does throw him. Nothing else?”

“Nope.” 

Dammit. She’d thought she’d figured it out but was back at square one. 

“Love, not trying to rush but how much longer are you going be? I think I’m ready to head to bed.” 

She met Harry’s sleepy, tired eyes in the mirror and instantly forgot about her hidden agenda. “I’ll be in in a sec, baby.” 

***

The day had finally come. The final show of the tour. 

Quinn wasn’t sure she’d ever see this day. Over the past two years, the concerts had been a permanent fixture of her life and she measured time in relation to them, able to rattle off exactly what she’d been doing if you named a city and date. And now it was all over. 

It was the perfect night. The weather had miraculously cleared up despite a scorching, stormy morning and the crowd was even more energized than usual. She’d had a good idea of what the night had in store, thanks to Harry’s nervous chatter, and when Harry finally emerged onstage for one last time, she’d been able to relax and cut loose, jumping and dancing around the pit with the rest of his family and friends, singing at the top of her lungs. 

The one surprise of the evening was when Harry returned to the stage and sat down at the piano. He started playing a melody that sounded familiar, something she’d heard echoing through the halls of the house when he couldn’t sleep. A version of the melody that she’d heard nearly every morning he was home, seated at the piano coffee in hand, playing as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. She finally had her answer now as to what it was for and she wiped tears from her cheeks as she listened to him play what was clearly a very personal piece for the nearly silent crowd. 

As she made her way backstage, trailing behind the larger group, she felt…weird. Happy but sad, excited but scared. Tomorrow would be the start of her “normal” life with Harry. No tours, no odd work hours, no time zones keeping them from each other. It was everything she’d dreamed of, so why was she so apprehensive? This break was a good thing. Harry had accomplished more than he’d ever imagined, and after a nice, well-deserved break, he’d be onto his next chapter, personally and professionally. 

While they hadn’t explicitly discussed what would happen between them after this leg of the tour had ended, they’d occasionally danced around the subject. Like on those nights in between shows when they’d found themselves tangled with each other in bed and the connection felt next level, when she felt Harry murmuring secrets only he could understand against her skin. Or the unspoken words that passed between them when she’d let go of his hand and his fingers would linger just a little too long before letting her go. 

They were heading towards…something. She just didn’t know what or when or how. But they’d get there. 

Back in the present Quinn gnawed at her lip, trying to fight back the tears. It had been easy to hide them throughout the day as she’d all but avoided Harry, giving him the space he needed to mentally prepare himself for what was about to happen. He’d been emotional all week and she wanted to be a solid support for him at this time, which meant limited tears of her own. Sure that her eyes were dry, she gave three quiet knocks on the door, and waited for Harry’s soft response before turning the knob. 

He was sitting on the sofa, shirtless with his head in his hands. His hair was damp and the air was thick with humidity from the shower he’d just taken. The ends of his hair dripped down the towel draped over his back. He looked up, hearing her footsteps, and ran his hand through his hair sending more droplets down his broad back. He opened his arms, and Quinn slipped onto his lap, looping one arm around his neck and using the other to tilt his chin up. 

“You did it, baby,” Quinn said. They were alone in the dressing room but she still spoke softly. “You did it.” 

“I did,” Harry said simply. “It’s done.” 

“And you should be so proud,” Quinn whispered against his lips, before kissing him.

“Still hasn’t sunk in yet,” Harry said hollowly. “Feels like I’m going to be back on the road tonight heading to the next stop. Feels weird to just…be.”

“I need you to listen to me, H. Two years is a long time and you’ve given so much good to the world in that time. You’ve brought joy and happiness and love and peace to millions of people and you’re going to continue to do that for years to come. But now’s your time to rest, to do something for yourself. You’re allowed to relax.” 

Harry looked up, a fresh set of tears welling in his eyes. “What the hell did I do to deserve you?” he choked out. Quinn tried to wipe the tears from his face, but her vision soon blurred with her own as they sat there crying in each other’s arms. “Thank you for always being there for me and for letting me be exactly who I need to be. I love you in ways I can’t describe. I–” He swallowed and looked like he was about to say something else, but a new sob wracked his body. 

“It’s OK, Harry. I love you too,” Quinn whispered, kissing his cheek and his forehead and his jaw before landing on his lips again. “Do you need a minute by yourself before we join everyone else?”

Harry cleared his throat. “Yeah. Let me pull myself together and throw some clothes on.” Quinn busied herself on her phone as Harry dressed and stowed his towel in the laundry basket. A few moments later, she felt his hand on the small of her back. He raised an eyebrow in a silent question and Quinn nodded. 

He held the door open for her and when he exited behind her. He took one last look around before sighing heavily. “Let’s go,” he said. “I’ve got a bottle of tequila with my name on it.” 

Tequila and spirits of all sorts flowed at the afterparty, a gathering filled with Harry’s family and closest friends who had flown in for the occasion. Everyone was fighting for a moment with him, a chance to say how proud they were, how incredible the night was, all statements that brought out his bashful side. His cheeks growing red and his eyes watery as he sucked in his cheeks and tried to keep the tears from falling. 

Quinn kept a respectful distance, following closely, but not intruding on his space. He’d been unusually clingy since they’d left the show, holding onto her tightly, and not letting go until she’d urged him to catch up with his friends. She could tell he was reluctant and he kept looking over towards her, and with each glance she’d give him a nod of encouragement, letting him know that it was OK to follow his own advice. To rest and have fun. 

As the night wore on, Harry grew more comfortable and compliments were traded for drinks, everyone around him offering him shots or glasses of different colored liquids. Quinn was still hovering, but was caught up in her own reverie celebrating with the group that had become an extension of her family as well over the past two years. 

When the sun began to rise and the party started to end, Quinn felt a pair of hands on her hips. Without turning around, she knew it was Harry, able to recognize him by the feel of his hands after all these years. “I guess we should maybe head out?” he whispered against the shell of her ear. “Head home?”

Home aka their villa they’d be spending the next few weeks in. Anne and the rest of the family had made their way over earlier in the evening, and were planning to stay for a brief, post-tour vacation as well. 

Harry slung his arm around Quinn and they watched the sun come up on the horizon. He let out a shaky breath, and without looking, Quinn knew he was crying again. 

“I wish I could bottle this moment,” he said. “Don’t ever want to forget it.” 

“You won’t. And the best part is that you’ll make many more memories down the road.”

“I mean, this, now with you.”

Quinn looked at him puzzled. “Well, we’re going to have more memories again too. Unless you’re also planning to dump me at the end of this tour.” 

Harry laughed, a short chuckle at first followed by a heartier bellow. “Fuck,” he said when the laughter had abated. “It’s hard to believe that’s what happened the last time a tour ended.” 

“Would you like me to book my ticket back now or later?”

“Hate to break it to you love but you’re stuck with me.” 

“Oooh, really?”

“Yeah, and I’ve got some big plans for us.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmmhmm,” Harry said. “We’re going to take a nap. A nice long one. Maybe a couple a day.”

“Go on…”

“Sex. Can’t forget that.”

“Of course.”

“Some fine dining. My own recipes and some restaurants.”

“Can’t wait.” 

“Pool time, walks by the beach, heading into town to go to the museums. We’re going to do it all.” He planted a kiss on her temple.

“I want to do everything with you, H.” 

“I want to do everything with you, Agent Q.” 

Quinn felt a flutter in her chest. Harry’s use of that first nickname he’d given her had grown less frequent over the years in favor of more romantic or even cheesier ones. But that callback to their start had her filled with love and affection. 

“Car’s here,” Harry said. “After you.” He opened the door and let Quinn slide in, pulling the door shut after him. 

Harry chatted pleasantly with the driver in Italian, and Quinn felt the flutter in her chest travel down her body. Hearing the language flow smoothly off his tongue did things to her she didn’t understand. However, there was little she could do about those feelings as they fell into bed, snoring side-by-side within minutes. Hours later, Quinn awoke, feeling Harry hard against her thigh and when he stirred, he had her pressed against the mattress in minutes, whispering hushed proclamations of love as he rocked into her, before they finished and fell asleep again. 

When they roused in the late hours of the afternoon, they were greeted by Anne who had taken the liberty of preparing dinner and they enjoyed the family meal, Harry smiling from ear to ear the entire time. In exchange, Harry offered to do the dishes, shooing Quinn away when she offered to help. 

From her spot on the couch where she nursed her second – or maybe third – glass of wine, Quinn observed Harry and Anne, and the easy way he chatted with his mother. She couldn’t tell what they were discussing but Anne was focused intently on her son as he talked. Quinn could tell by the way his back moved that Harry was discussing whatever subject passionately as Anne nodded along. Harry was a man of few words – he was always warm but he never used two words when one would do, so his sudden talkativeness was a little strange, but Quinn just attributed it to the emotional week he was coming down from, and when he came into the living room, hands still warm from the soapy water, she cuddled into his solid frame as they settled in to watch a film. 

The rest of the week was equally relaxing. Quinn and Anne took turns doting on Harry, making sure he was comfortable at all times, refilling his drink and getting him whatever he needed. Harry, in turn, organized outings and activities for everyone. Boating around the lake, shopping around town, and a wine tasting at a local vineyard, followed by lengthy dinners until everyone left Italy to head back home one by one, leaving Quinn, Harry, Anne, and a few select family members remaining until it was finally Anne’s turn to leave. 

“I’ve loved having you here, mum. What time do you need to be at the airport?” Harry asked around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. 

“Harry!” 

“What?” He looked at Quinn. “I don’t want her to miss her flight! And she’s probably sick of us by now.”

“You don’t have to rush her out the door. Let her finish her toast!”

“He’s fine, dear,” Anne said, gently, with a teasing glint in her eye. “I know when I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“See,” Harry said as if her statement proved his point. 

“Anne, don’t listen to your son. You’re perfectly fine to stay a few more days. That’s what we were planning on anyway.” Quinn turned to Harry, who had grown very pale. “Right?”

“Well, yeah, but I just figured we’d enjoy the…privacy.” 

Quinn flushed. The presence of family members in adjacent rooms had never stopped them from “enjoying privacy” in the past. In fact, they’d grown pretty skilled at having a near silent quickie when the need called. What was his problem? “Harry, our calendars are basically empty for the next six months. Your mother is welcome to stay. Anne, please, stay as long as you want.” 

Harry’s eyes bounced between Quinn and his mother. “Well, it’s just–”

“I already booked my flight, sweetheart, so it wouldn’t make much sense to change it now,” Anne said to Quinn. “But I really appreciate you wanting me to stay.” 

“Oh, OK,” Quinn said, defeated. “Maybe next time.” She collected the empty breakfast plates from the table. “Anyone want more coffee?” Both Anne and Harry declined, and as Quinn turned her back to deposit the dishes in the sink, she completely missed the silent look of thanks Harry shot his mother. 

Quinn studied Harry closely in the days following Anne’s departure. All of the weird behavior he’d displayed over the last few months had become non-existent and he was just Harry again. No shutting his phone as Quinn approached. No furtive glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. No hushed phone calls in other rooms. All of that had been replaced by his normal behavior. Grabbing her hand and pulling her closer to him as they walked into the village for coffee and pastries. Pressing a kiss against her neck as he read the page over her shoulder. Kisses good morning and goodnight. Smothered in affection, Quinn forgot about all of the questions she’d been harboring throughout the summer and resolved to just soak up this uninterrupted time with Harry. 

A few days later, Harry suggested they have a night in and try out a new recipe, a tortellini dish he’d apparently been dying to try. Quinn didn’t know what was so special about this pasta, which looked nearly identical to the pasta they’d eaten two nights ago, but she held her tongue after seeing how happy Harry looked standing behind the counter in his apron. 

She had to admit, the pasta was delicious, and having Harry by her side made it even better. When their plates had been emptied, she stood, figuring dish duty was only fair in exchange for Harry having cooked. She dropped the dishes in the soapy water with a splash. 

“Just leave those dishes for now. It’s a beautiful sunset tonight.” 

“Oh-kay…” Quinn dropped the sponge in the sink and dabbed her hands on the dish towel.

“Figured we shouldn’t waste the night. Thought we could enjoy another glass outside?” Harry held a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands. 

“Sure. When in Rome, right?”

“Give or take 100 kilometers.” 

“Since when are you Mr. Mathematics?”

“Since I grew concerned that you don’t know your Italian geography.” 

Quinn playfully smacked Harry’s arm, before leaning into his side. “Well let’s go then! That wine’s not going to drink itself.”

They sat side by side on the garden swing. Quinn kicked her sandals off and pulled her feet under her as Harry poured them two hefty glasses. Quinn turned to look at Harry and raised her glass. “To a successful tour and even more successful celebration of all your hard work.”

“Our hard work,” Harry gently corrected. “You were as much a part of everything as I was.” 

Quinn blushed. “A successful celebration of all of our hard work.” She paused. “Here’s to more amazing moments and just as many simple ones.” 

“I’ll drink to that,” Harry said softly, touching the rim of his glass to Quinn’s. “Cheers.”

They both took a sip of the wine. 

“Wow, that’s good,” Quinn said. “Is this from the vineyard?”

“Not quite,” Harry said slowly. “It’s a Chardonnay. Cellar No. 8.”  

Quinn frowned, trying to figure out why that particular wine was familiar. “Have we had that before.” 

“Just once.” 

“When?”

“Um, it was the night we got dinner at that Italian restaurant near your office. I met you on your dinner break.” His voice had the slightest tremor to it. “It was a couple days after we ran into each other again. I was going to ask if you wanted to give us another try.” 

The memory came to Quinn in a flash. “And instead I asked you to get my boyfriend a ticket to the Met.” She laughed. “Jesus Christ, do I know how to ruin a moment or what?”

Harry laughed and pulled her in for a hug. “It wasn’t ideal, but I wouldn’t say you ruined anything. Everything between us happened at exactly the right time. It’s meant to be. I mean who knows, if we’d gotten back together that night, we might not be sitting here now.”

“That’s very true.” She laid her head against Harry’s chest and closed her eyes. The moment felt perfect. 

“Quinn, I want to marry you,” Harry said, jolting Quinn to attention. 

“What?”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to call you my wife. And I guess I want to know if you’d be alright with that…” He trailed off, losing all bravado the more he spoke. Quinn stared at him, truly speechless for the first time in her life. “Please, for the love of God say something, Quinn.” 

“Are you serious?” 

“Umm, yeah,” Harry laughed nervously. “Not really something you joke about.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Am I sure?” Harry laughed a full belly laugh. 

“I mean, I’m kind of a lot. And not in the best way. I mean, I overthink everything, I always manage to spoil your romantic surprises and ruin the moment…”

“You don’t say?”

“See! Are you sure?”

“Quinn, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. When I think about what I’ll remember 60 years from now, yeah, I’ll remember touring the world, but what will really stand out is you. The way I can hear your laugh in the crowd when I make a terrible joke. The look on your face when I play you a new song. The way you curl up next to me when you’re really tired. The way you’ve trained me to get rid of all the green Skittles. Your determination, your dedication to us. The love you show me every day. That’s what I’ll remember, Quinn.” 

“Yes, Harry.” Quinn cleared her throat. “I want to marry you. I want to be your wife and I want you to be my husband.” 

“Are you sure?” Harry laughed as Quinn shoved him. 

“Yes, I have never been more sure of anything.” 

“Well, alright then.” Harry shifted in his seat, lifting up onto one side to reach into his left pants pocket, producing a velvet box. His hands were shaking ever so slightly, causing Quinn to reach out and steady them gently. “Thank you, love,” Harry said with a sniff.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Quinn said with a small smile. 

Harry slowly opened the box to reveal a diamond ring nestled in the cushion, earning a gasp from Quinn. “Did I pick well?” he asked. 

Quinn tried to think of a joke, something quippy to say to play down the litany of emotions she was feeling in the moment, but for what felt like the first time in her life, the first time in their relationship, she played it straight. “Yes, it’s perfect.” She took his face in her hands and pulled him to kiss him slowly, doing her very best to memorize everything about the two of them at that moment. 

“So I picked really well then…noted,” Harry said with a breathless laugh, running his hand through his hair. He blinked hard and Quinn could see a few tears fall. “Shit,” he said. “Thought I was all cried out but apparently not.” Quinn reached up to wipe the tears away, and as she pulled away, Harry caught her hand and kissed her fingertips, her palms, her wrist, pulling her close, until she was nearly on top of him, looking him straight in the eyes. 

“This is really hard sometimes, but having you next to me makes it so much easier,” he said. 

“Well, good news, I’m not going anywhere,” Quinn managed to get out before another wave of tears overtook her. 

“That’s the best news I’ve gotten all month,” Harry replied, kissing her again.

Quinn looked down at her hand, now resting against Harry’s chest, fully appreciating the sparkling ring on her finger. “How did you manage to plan this?” she asked. 

“I’ve been working on it for a while,” Harry admitted. “Started looking at rings after our stay at Jeff’s. When I finally realized that I was the person I needed to be for you.”

“That was like three years ago. Harry, are you serious?” 

“What can I say, I’m really good at keeping secrets.” He chuckled. “The rest of it slowly came into place after.” He chuckled. “I was terrified you were onto something when you saw that countdown on my phone.”

“What was it for?” Quinn asked. “The day has already passed so it couldn’t be for this.”

“You were counting?”

“Of course,” Quinn exclaimed. “You really think I’d see a mystery countdown and not try to figure out what it was for?” 

“I had to meet the jeweler in between tour stops and didn’t want to forget.” Harry laughed. “But honestly, I don’t even know how I could forget. This is the only thing I’ve been able to think of for months.”  

“Really?”

“Really. I kept coming up with plans and then scrapping them because nothing felt right. A proposal during lockdown didn’t feel right, and after things reopened we were both so busy so I figured I would do something simple. Like I’d ask you on the waterfront or while we went for a walk. Or I’d spell it out in Scrabble tiles or whatever it would take to make it the perfect moment so you could have a great story. I was telling my mum about it and how I wanted to do it while we were here and she just told me to stop worrying and that I’d find the perfect moment. And that’s what happened tonight. We were sitting there, eating dinner and it came to me. Any moment when I’m with you is the perfect moment.” 

“Stop it,” Quinn sniffed. 

“I’m serious.”

“Well then, I’d have to agree. Everything is perfect when we’re together.” 

Harry wrapped his arm around Quinn and they sat next to each other, taking the moment in and enjoying each other's company. Sitting next to Harry, feeling his chest rise and fall, Quinn couldn’t remember the last time they’d been able to be so present with no worry about what was to come tomorrow. Sure, they’d need to call their families and then there’d be a wedding to plan, but for right now it was just her and Harry and everything was as it should be. She closed her eyes, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest. 

“Quinn?” 

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Harry.” 

***

talk to me! || story inspo

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[rocknrollbabe14]

Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’

Soooo since I’m in a bit of an emotional drought right now (just dealing with some personal stuff) I decided to share a snippet of a story I had been working on and that’s been sitting in my drafts for 2 years since ST came out 😂😂😂 Some Steve x Reader x Eddie because they’re in a love triangle. If you want it continued let me know. 🤷🏻‍♀️😅

You hurried into the gym for the weekly pep rally for the Hawkins Tigers football team. Each grade was in the bleachers, ready to cheer on their team. It was a good way to boost morale and get out of last period a few minutes early. The band always played pep music in the stands during football games before and after preforming the half time show. You had to be at the game tonight as you were a member of the marching band.

During marching season, you were a Majorette—wearing the cute uniform and twirling the sticks as your best friend Eddie Munson teased you. You imagined Eddie would be skipping the pep rally as he could care less about sports. He would much rather invest his time in his Hellfire Club, selling drugs occasionally, or playing with his band at the Hideout.

“Ready for tonight?”, Robin asked loudly over the crowd.

Robin was a good friend and fellow band geek, the term most people referred to members of the band as. She was one of your only girlfriends.

“Definitely.”, you smiled as you grabbed your batons.

The Drum Major counted off each pep song, you doing your routines to each song as the band continued to play, the football team parading around, hyping up your classmates. You scanned the crowd to see if there was any sign of Eddie. There wasn’t. You did see Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler, freshman members of his Hellfire Club. The band would end with the fight song. After that, it would be decided which grade would win the spirit stick. You were brought out of your daze when the Drum Major counted off the fight song, beginning to twirl. It was muscle memory.

It had became second nature to you. You had been doing it since freshman year. The senior class of 1986 won the spirt stick, causing you, Robin, and the other band seniors to be quite thrilled. Robin was crushing madly on your fellow band member, Vickie. It was a big step up from Tammy Thompson. The pep rally ended, dismissing all grades from the gymnasium. You picked up your batons and met up with Robin before you both walked back to the band room.

“Eddie miss the pep rally?”, Robin asked as she brushed through her short hair.

“Apparently. He’s not into that, Robin.”, you smirked.

She snorted playfully. You all had about two hours to grab something to eat and be ready to rehearse tonight’s marching band show and the pep band music. After the games, Eddie would pick you up and take you home. You were surprised he would even come to the school long enough to do that. You and Robin grabbed lunch together as always, her rambling on about Vickie.

“Did you see how cute she looked today?”, Robin sighed, stirring the fry in her ketchup.

You smirked. “I’m not the best judge of that.”, you chuckled.

It was cute to see Robin so flustered and worked up over her crush. You could understand. You had secretly been crushing on Eddie for a while, however, he never seemed to reciprocate the feelings. You’d sometimes try and flirt a little here or there, but Eddie would brush it off with a laugh. You’d never admit to flirting with Eddie. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship if he didn’t feel the same.

The other day had really almost done you in. Dustin and Mike were talking about some cute freshman cheerleaders. It was harmless or so you thought. However, Eddie’s words rang in your head and ever since, you couldn’t get them out no matter how hard you tried. “What I’d do to have one night with that.” The worlds he used as Chrissy Cunningham passed by. Your heart sank deep in your chest, quickly realizing you didn’t have a chance with Eddie. He was more into the blonde, cheerleader type.

Before you could turn around, it was time to get dressed in your uniform and prepare to march to the stadium. It was the thing you all always did on Friday nights. Your uniform was a short one piece leotard with your school colors: green, gold, and white. Robin always told you how cute you looked and any boy would be lucky to date you, however, there was just one boy you wanted—Eddie Munson.

The night went on, you going through the motions. It was time for the half time show. Robin smiled at you as her friend and former student at Hawkins High, Steve Harrington came over to chat. He was most of the girls dream when he was in school. He had the perfect hair, played sports, and reeked of confidence. Robin assured you, however, he was just a “dingus”. It was time to go on, each of you taking your correct spot on the field. The Drum Major counted off, you smiling with your pearly whites.

Your movements came natural, remembering and performing each move with grace. You felt all the eyes on you. Little did you know, the eyes you found most important were on you too. He was just under the bleachers, peeping out just enough to see you with a cigarette hanging lazily out of his mouth. He took a puff of it, watching you in that tight little skirt. If you only knew how he felt and what he thought about.

You ended the performance, striking the last pose perfectly. The home crowd cheered before the Drum Major counted off once more, allowing you all to march off and exit the field. You went back into the stands, preparing to take a break for the third quarter.

“Steve!”, you heard Robin shout, instantly catching your attention.

“You did great out there.”, he encouraged her.

“Y/N, come here.”, she eyed you.

You reluctantly stepped up a couple bleachers, almost tripping and falling, Steve catching you easily, making eye contact with you, smiling at you.

“Y/N, you know Steve Harrington.”

“I do.”, you smiled easily.

“Steve, you know Y/N.”

“Yeah, you were a sophomore when I was a senior, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, thanks for catching me.”, you laughed nervously.

“It’s not a problem, just be careful. Wouldn’t want a pretty girl like you to get hurt.”

Robin shot him a disgusted look. “Steve, was that supposed to be a pick up line?”

Steve blushed before running a hand through his hair. “Was it that bad?”

You giggled easily. “I appreciate it, Steve. Really.”

His smiled remained, becoming softer and almost serious. “Are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

“I’m sorry?”, you asked, almost nervously laughing.

Steve laughed nervously in response, shoving his hands in the pockets of his old letterman jacket. “Are you doing anything tomorrow night?”, he repeated.

“Oh no—no plans.”, you smiled, finally realizing he was trying to ask you out.

“Would you maybe wanna do something?”

Robin watched, mouth gaped open before it turned into a smile. Before the whole Chrissy comment, you wouldn’t have really considered going on a date with anyone else. But that had changed your whole perspective.

“Sounds good. Robin can give me your number.”, you smiled.

There was a chill in the fall wind, causing you to shiver slightly. Your outfit was short and skimpy. You rubbed your arms as if that would conduct a little electricity to warm you up.

“Here.”, Steve said as he shed his jacket, holding it out for you to wrap up in.

You eyed Robin, carefully obliging, letting Steve help you into his jacket. It was significantly bigger than you, but you instantly felt warmer and were no longer shivering. Robin smirked at you as you turned back to face her and Steve. Little did you know, other eyes were watching this unfold—Eddie Munson.

“Thanks, Steve. You didn’t have to do this.”, you blushed at him.

“Really, I don’t mind. It looks good on you.”

If Robin could have gagged, she would have. Steve was one of her best friends—if not her best friend but even his bad pick up lines were hard to watch. Somehow, he was managing to sail right through. You all made small talk as the third quarter clock counted down, Robin and you both taking your respective places back in the stands. The band continued to play pep music, Hawkins was winning against its rival.

The fourth quarter passed quickly, leaving just a few minutes on the clock. As the football team ran the field, the clock counted down further. Hawkins had the ball, the quarterback running for the field goal. Everyone was cheering loudly in anticipation of another touchdown. The quarterback passed the colored goal line, Hawkins side of the stadium cheering as the band counted off the fight song.

You watched the time fade from the fourth quarter, the game ending. Hawkins had won. The band began packing everything up to take it back to the high school. Steve walked behind the band, eager to continue talking to you and Robin. Members of the band were busy packing everything up. You finished up a few minutes early, noticing Steve was waiting to talk to you. Maybe this was how things were supposed to be.

“Hey.”, Steve breathed easily.

“Hey.”, you smiled.

“So tomorrow, right?”

“Tomorrow, for sure.”

Steve smiled, taking a hand through his hair. “I wrote my number down.”

You took the piece of paper, smiling. “Thank you, Steve. I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.”

“Sounds good, you got a ride home?”

“I do. Oh! Let me give you your jacket back.”, you went to slide it off.

“No, no. It’s too cold. Keep it”, Steve insisted.

You smiled, knowing what it meant when a guy gave a girl his letterman jacket.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”, Steve smiled.

Steve held his arms out, offering you an embrace. You allowed him to take you into his arms. The scent of his cologne off his jacket and himself hit your nose. It almost made you weak in your knees. You both pulled back, staring into each other’s eyes. The chemistry was there.

“Hey—time to go home.”, Robin interrupted you both.

Steve usually gave Robin a ride. Eddie give you a ride. It was just how thing were going,

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Y/N.”, Steve smiled.

“Okay, be careful Steve.”

“You too, Y/N.”

Robin and Steve exited the school, you not far behind. You immediately saw Eddie’s van parked out front. You walked in the cool fall air to his van, hearing him unlock the door as you approached. Eddie immediately eyed you up and down as you sat down in the seat.

“How was the game?”, he almost deadpanned.

“It was fine, we won.”, you smiled.

Eddie nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “So I take it you don’t need my leather jacket?”

His voice was laced with jealousy—or at least you thought it was. His knuckles had a tight grip on the steering wheel. His brown eyes finally looked over at you, flipping back between the road and you.

“Not tonight.”

He chuckled. “You’re wearing Harrington’s jacket.”

“How do you know it’s Steve’s jacket?”

“His name is across the back.”, Eddie responded back, taking one finger across the back of it. You felt his finger trace along your back, sending chills down your spine.

“He saw I was cold and gave it to me.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, trying to be playful. “Okay, a guy doesn’t just give a girl his letterman jacket if he doesn’t want to get serious with her.”

“It’s going to be one date.”

The smile faded from Eddie’s lips almost immediately. “So you agreed to a date? With Harrington?”

“I don’t see what the big deal is.”, you crossed your arms, leaning back into the seat.

Eddie laughed sarcastically. “He was the biggest douche in high school. Like he thought he’s God’s gift to women. Did you not learn anything from Wheeler’s mistake?”

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought Eddie was becoming jealous. He was trying to play it off and be funny, but there was something else laced in his words. You looked out the window as Eddie drove through the heavy traffic leaving the high school. It was one of the many pains in his ass when he picked you up from the games. But he was willing to do it for you.

“Maybe he’s changed. He’s been graduated two years now.”, you defended, looking back at Eddie.

Eddie huffed in response before laughing sarcastically. “Guys like Harrington don’t change, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at Eddie’s response, feeling yourself becoming increasingly agitated. He was really one to talk considering he had made that statement about Chrissy. You were holding back saying anything about her.

“You don’t know that, Eddie.”

[magicalrocketships]

8, 56 or 69 for the over 30's ask meme! (Or all three if you have the spoons/time/inclination) <3

(And yes, two of these are shameless way of trying to potentially find a new favourite cleaning product or low-effort meal haha)

oh hello! love everything that makes things easier tbh.

8. What cleaning product do you swear by?

Two answers to this - the first one is low cost: pink stuff miracle paste. It is multi purpose and SO useful. When I moved in here a couple of years ago, I found a use for the drawers I had as a kid which had been stored in a family member's garage - they had stickers on and were grimy and I looked at them and didn't think they'd clean up, but pink stuff took it all off, sticker residue and everything. You can use it for cleaning anything and everything.

The second one is a robot hoover. Mine is called Maxy-Max and he arrived in my life earlier this year and in terms of spoons he has revolutionised my life. I ran most days last year on the equivalent of about 3-5% battery life and as such I have pretty much zero spare energy for cleaning, but now Maxy-Max will do things like find a Christmas bauble under a table and brush it to my feet or a pen under a seat and I will think yes: I love this robot and this robot loves me (and my cleaning).

56. Favorite low-effort meal that you make?

Godddd we are very, very gently starting to occasionally cook things again after 18 months of not being well enough to, but I have two recipes - one of which is an actual fave and the other one I've made and then adapted, but it's SO nice to have flavour again in what I eat (so many ready meals and easy eat stuff that made up my last 18 months are just bland, ughhhhhh so mediocre all of the time).

The first one is an extremely easy, vaguely a version of carbonara if you squint very hard (sorry Italians) and you can use literally any variation of pre-prepared ingredient dependent on need/ease/what you have and add frozen ingredients directly to the frying pan, but:

a) cook pasta. spaghetti is preferable but whatever brings you comfort and joy

b) while pasta is cooking, fry chopped onion and garlic and bits of smoked bacon. add salt and pepper.

c) when pasta is nearly done cooking add frozen peas to the bacon mix, leave to cook while you finish with the pasta and drain it

d) stir in cream cheese/philadelphia to bacon mix, according to taste (usually 1/3 to 1/2 a tub but I don't know how big tubs are elsewhere, just however much you like, you can add more but you can't take it out)

e) stir in the drained pasta to the bacon/cheese mix. add more pepper if you like pepper (I like pepper)

f) eat and feel joy. the leftovers are even more delicious.

The second was the first thing I made from a recipe book in forever. It's a gorgeous cookbook called Ramen by Makiko Sano. It's got so much to say and teach about how to build a layered ramen dish and I'm excited to have the energy to make any of that, BUT, nestled at the back is this recipe for microwave ramen:

I loved the ramen/kimchi/tofu/spring onion mix, the cheese and sort of egg scramble was nice but I wouldn't need it every time - but it was SO nice to try something new and relatively easy for lunch that didn't make me too tired to actually eat it.

69. What are you looking forward to next week?

I had a friend to stay this weekend and it was lovely but I am now v tired (beyond normal fatigue, but in a good way) and I JUST remembered that I have a long weekend booked off work this week with nothing to fill it up yet but dreams.

ask me questions!

[thebirdandthebee]

Imagine Me & You

A Jake “Hangman” Seresin fic.

Jake stumbles across a woman on base that seems to enjoy the finer things in life… just like the future he’d like to build - with her in it.

A/N: Thank you all for your patience! I got a little caught up in my other series and wasn’t able to focus on this for a while, on top of going out of town for 10 days. I did warn you in the last chapter that this would get a little weird, it only gets weirder from here.

Chapter 8: Size 6

“Sweetheart, it’s time to wake up,” Mia groaned softly as Jake rubbed his hand up and down her back. “It’s 7:30, your phone died in the night,” he elaborated. Mia was usually one foot out the door by now, knowing she had to be on base at 8 a.m.

“Seven-thirty?” She gasped, lifting her head off the pillow.

“Seven-thirty,” Jake confirmed, “sorry darlin,’ I just got back from my run.” Mia flew out of bed, bypassing Jake and running straight into the closet.

Jake headed into the kitchen where he’d already packed her tote, just in time for the Nespresso go to off. He carefully poured her latte into a to-go cup before pulling together a lunch for her, tucking it into her lunchbox. Last night they’d made a stir fry together, sharing shots of sake and indulging in mochi ice cream before having slow, lazy sex on the dining room table.

It was the fourth week of Jake’s leave and while Mia was loving having him around for the most part, she was ready for just a bit more privacy. She was grateful, and she meant that, for all he did for her. Jake took so much pressure off of her shoulders, whether that be around the house, running errands, taking care of Tiger and everything in between, but she had not had a single moment to herself in the past five weeks.

When she took a shower, Jake was there, when she went for a run, Jake was there, when she read her book, he was laying between her legs, asking her to read out loud to him.

Surely he was tired of spending every waking moment with her?

Tonight, however, that would change. It was girl’s night at Tina’s and though it still wasn’t time to herself, she was excited to spend the evening with her friends.

She went through the kitchen in a flurry, stepping into her flats with a top knot balancing precariously atop her head.

“Shoot, I didn’t pack –” Before she could finish her sentence, Jake slid her coffee and her lunchbox across the kitchen counter.

“All set, baby,” he said reassuringly.

“Fuck, my car needs gas,” she pressed her hand to her forehead.

“Went yesterday and filled it up,” he replied, taking her light windbreaker off the entry hook and holding it open. Mia melted, stepping into the jacket and then his arms.

“What would I do without you?” She asked, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You’ll never have to find out,” he replied, kissing the crown of her head. “You take off, I’m gonna pick up dry cleaning and take meet the plumber back here.”

Maybe Mia was overreacting – Jake was wonderful.

Work was light that day, Buzzer stayed home with a cold and Mia’s day had opened up a bit since they had won her first case last week. Jake had celebrated her with reservations at an upscale Italian restaurant and candles all over the apartment when they got home.

She was, however, excited to see Rooster who swung by in the afternoon.

“Hi Roo,” she greeted excitedly.

“Afternoon ma’am,” he nodded, making her grin as he dropped down into a chair opposite her desk. “Came lookin’ round for your other half earlier and couldn’t spot him, he tied up to a post back at your place?” Bradley asked. Mia rolled her eyes with a shake of her head.

“I suspect he is there, but no, he’s a free man,” she commented.

“He’s got mail pilin’ up back at the OBQs,” Rooster countered. “Might behoove him to check it out once and a while.”

“OBQ?” Mia asked with a tilt of her head.

“Off base quarters,” Bradley replied, “where the more seasoned bachelors stay when they want to get out of the barracks – his dorm essentially.”

Mia couldn’t begin to imagine Jake Seresin living in a dorm.

“Well I’m happy to let him know,” she grinned. “Actually, I’m getting together with the girls tonight – maybe you guys could loop up too?” She suggested.

“I would if that man ever replied to my texts,” Rooster laughed. “Haven’t heard from him in weeks,” he explained. Mia frowned, Jake surely checked his phone once and a while, she’d seen it – so she was surprised to hear that he’d been incommunicado.

“That’s weird,” she scrunched her nose.

“I agree,” Rooster raised his brow at the petite blonde.

“I promise, I’ll say something,” she insisted, “I honestly don’t know what else he’d do tonight,” she shrugged.

“You two getting pretty serious?” Rooster asked, shifting to lean back in the chair.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Mia replied. “I mean we have spent every single day together since you came back,” she began, “and that probably sounds like a lot.” She hesitated to elaborate – Bradley was Jake’s friend, after all. “I think we are moving a bit fast and could probably stand to slow down a little bit, but… Jake’s so good to me.” She sighed with a smile, “I mean, it’s always fun when it’s new and fresh, and I’m not complaining, but I’m definitely looking forward to tonight.” She could feel herself rambling.

“Jake’s an intense guy,” Rooster summarized. “Don’t be afraid to ask for some space,” he advised. It was a weird way to phrase it - Jake would never do anything to hurt her. “I’m just saying – you don’t want to burn fast and bright – fuck, I’m overstepping,” Bradley rubbed the back of his neck.

“I know you mean well, Bradley,” Mia assured. “Come on, today’s been slow and the boss is gone – I’m leaving early,” she grinned, gathering her things. Rooster walked her to her car and sent her off for the day.

Arriving back home around 3:00 instead of the usual 5:15, Mia found Jake seated at the kitchen island, his laptop open in front of him.

“You’re home early, sweetheart,” he grinned in that way that made her cheeks pink up.

“Slow day,” she shrugged, setting down her back and hanging her coat up in the entry. Jake closed his computer, immediately unpacking her lunchbox and sliding containers into the dishwasher. “How was your day?” She asked, stepping into his open arms. The aviator almost instantly lifted her onto the kitchen counter. “Nice and quiet, just the way I like it,” he drawled, making her smile as he kissed her gently. “Grabbed our clothes, went to the gym for a pump, watched the plumber fix the disposal,” he listed off. “Now you’re here…” he trailed off, kissing her neck, “with time to spare,” Jake smiled against her skin.

“Think we can both squeeze in the shower?” Mia asked, letting her head drop to the side as he kissed up the length of her neck. “I wanna wash my hair before girl’s night and I start my period next week,” she commented.

“How can I help?” He asked, nuzzling into her skin.

“Fuck me all weekend long?” She asked, holding his jaw in her hands. God she loved this jaw.

“That I can do,” he said, lifting her off the counter with two firm hands and carrying her back to the bedroom.

One thing that Mia had really come to appreciate about Jake was the dedication to his craft. They had yet to fuck once where he didn’t go down on her first and he always made sure she came at least once before he did. Now, with her pressed up against the tile of the shower, he painstakingly worked his way into her, slowly, pressing his full length into her body until their chests met in a mess of water and soap.

“Right here,” he murmured, kissing her through the water droplets. “Right here is where I belong,” he finished. Mia couldn’t help but agree, especially when his thumb was holding her clit hostage as he pumped in and out.

And if she didn’t realize he wasn’t wearing a condom again, he wasn’t going to say anything.

After their shower, Jake wrapped Mia’s hair up in a towel and they took a brief nap. Mia wasn’t due at Tina’s until 6 and she was enjoying the extra time lounging around in bed with Jake.

“Jake?” She mumbled, just on the precipice of sleep.

“Darlin’?” He replied, stroking his hand down the length of her spine as she curled further into him.

“You’re supposed to text Rooster, he wants to see you,” she recalled their conversation from earlier. “Said you have a bunch of mail back at your place.” Jake frowned at her words.

“When did you see Rooster?” He asked.

“He stopped by the office today and we caught up for a few minutes, it was good to see him,” she explained. “He also said you haven’t been texting him back.” Jake frowned even deeper, fingertips grazing her soft skin.

“Babe, after four weeks sharing a bunk with the man, you’d want some space, too,” Jake reasoned – and it was enough for Mia, who drifted off to sleep.

After about an hour, Mia was up and getting ready, blowing out her hair to add in some volume, primping some simple makeup and choosing between a green and blue set to wear over to Tina’s. They weren’t getting too crazy, drinks in the basement, pizza and some old-fashioned girl talk.

From: Tina

Do you mind ordering the pizzas before you leave your place? My phone is acting up and Bob’s already taken off for the night.

Mia was happy to help and told Tina to send the order over. After dressing in her green velour set, she leaned down, running her hand through Jake’s hair and kissing him gently.

The picture of him, bare chested, hair tousled and satisfied smile on his face in her bed was enough to tempt her back down into the sheets.

“Taste good,” Jake murmured, chasing her kiss for a little more. “C’mere,” he insisted.

Mia entertained him, leaning down again with one knee on the bed as she indulged his request. Jake sat forward, meeting her halfway as she slanted her mouth over his again.

“Stay home,” Jake Seresin didn’t whine, but he did plead.

“No,” Mia grinned, pecking him gently, despite his best attempts to turn it into something more.

“Yeah? Why don’t you let me convince you?” He taunted, reaching up to loop his arms around her, but she managed to escape just in time.

“I’m ordering pizza for the girls, want me to send one here?” She asked, padding out to the kitchen.

“Yes please,” Jake called, still in his euphoric cloud with no real intention of getting out of bed just yet – he thought he still had a chance of getting Mia to stay home.

Mia, a creature of habit, saw the Macbook on the kitchen counter and propped it open before realizing it was Jake’s and not hers. An honest mistake. Surely Jake wouldn’t mind if she just ordered pizzas on his internet tab?

Clicking the Chrome logo, it pulled up a downsized window, and though she immediately moved to close the computer, not wanting to violate his privacy, she froze upon seeing the browser.

Engagement rings on Tiffany. Glancing over her shoulder, she scrolled through, seeing two or three had been favorite. Surely Jake wasn’t actually looking at engagement rings, right? Definitely not for her? Maybe he was helping a friend? She saw that the shopping bag in the corner had an icon that there was an item waiting to check out.

Unable to stop herself, she clicked it. There lived Tiffany’s Three Stone Engagement Ring with Pear-shaped Side Stones in Platinum in a size 6. Her size.

“Mia?” Jake called. In a panic, he downsized the browser and slammed the computer shut, grabbing her phone. She could hear him approaching and she leaned against the counter, holding her phone out in front of her.

“What kind of pizza did you want, babe?” She asked, pulling up an app on her phone.

“I’d rather have a piece of your pie,” he said, pressing his hips into her and caging her against the counter.

“Jake, I’m going to Tina’s!” She laughed, pressing a hand to his warm, bare chest. “How am I supposed gossip about you if we’re always together, huh?” She asked, head still spinning, but doing her best to focus.

“You’re gonna gossip about me?” he asked, running his hand through her soft hair, giving it a gentle tug.

“Of course, us ladies have to compare notes,” she grinned.

“Well I hope I get high marks,” he said, cradling her head in his hand and kissing her gently. “Want me to drive you?” He offered.

“Nah, I’m not going to drink that much.” She shivered as he gently massaged her scalp.

“Text me when you get there?” He asked.

“I will,” she nodded.

Adrenaline thrummed in her veins as she drove over to Tina’s, pizzas ordered and a pair of her slippers on the car seat next to her.

“Wine, now,” were the first words out of her mouth as Tina opened up her front door.

“Everything okay?” Tina asked with concern.

“I need you to tell me,” Mia said, leading her own way down to the basement where Bobbi was already munching on hors d’ouerves. “Who else is coming?” Mia asked, taking the room by storm and grabbing the whole bottle of red on the table, pouring half of it into her glass.

“What’s going on?” Tina asked, eyes wide.

“Jake’s looking at engagement rings,” Mia came right out with it.

“For you?” Bobbi’s eyes grew wide.

“For me,” Mia confirmed, taking a long drink. “I was just thinking that we’ve been together too much over the past few weeks, and then I kinda talked myself out of it because he’s so great, but what the fuck?” She asked, listing off, too much anxious energy, so instead, she paced.

“How did we find out about this? What do we know?” Bobbi asked.

“I opened his computer! To order pizza!” Mia gestured with her free hand, “and there they were! On Tiffany!”

“Oh, Tiffany,” Tina cooed.

“Tina,” Bobbi snapped, “not the time.”

Tina looked sheepish and turned her attention back to her friend.

“So what are you going to do?” She asked, flopping down on the couch.

“I have no fucking clue, this is crazy!” Mia laughed in disbelief.  “This is literally the first time in four weeks, outside of going to work, I’ve been away from Jake.” She pointed out. “I mean Jesus Christ, he practically follows me into the bathroom half of the time.”

“So if he asked you right now, you’d say no?” Tina pressed.

“Of course I’d say no!” Mia said, pushing her hair back from her face. “I mean Jake hasn’t met my family –”

“He met Jack,” Bobbi cut in.

“He doesn’t know I’m allergic to dust, I don’t think he even knows my middle name,” Mia continued, “I mean we’ve only been seeing each other for four weeks! I’ve only known the man for…” she trailed off. “Four months?” She asked the peanut gallery. “We haven’t even said ‘I love you,’ I don’t even know if I love him!”

“Bob and I got engaged after six months,” Tina pointed out.

“No, no, no, this is not normal behavior,” Mia held up a finger. “You dated six months and we can all agree, that is shorter than normal. This man had a ring in the checkout after four weeks,” Mia kept going.

“Okay, my personal opinion aside, I respect that this is pretty fast,” Tina said, approaching the conversation as rationally as she could. “Does he know you saw it?” She asked, to which Mia shook her head vehemently.

“Even today – even today – I asked him, ‘what would I do without you?’” Mia began, “and you know what he said? I’d never have to find out.”

“Aww,” Bobbi smiled, to which Mia whipped her head to face her friend.

“The sex must be amazing if he’s proposing after a month,” Tina commented, causing she and Bobbi to burst into giggles.

“You two are seriously no help,” Mia sighed, mildly annoyed.

“Mia, don’t get so worked up,” Tina said with exasperation. “Tell him you saw it, talk to him about it and how you feel,” she insisted.

“And what if he breaks it off?” Mia asked.

“Then he’s an idiot,” Bobbi interjected.

“It might have to be a choice you make,” Tina said honestly. “Jake is…”

“Intense,” Mia commented, using Rooster’s word from earlier that day. She just didn’t realize how seriously he meant it.

[frauleindermorgen]

@justices-blade sent:

Time on the run means beggars can't be choosers— But with both feet firmly on the Monastery flooring now, days passing as peacefully as he's known them, that's no longer the case. This may be no land of milk and honey, rife with its own struggles, but being able to choose between the whole wheat bread with the sunflower seeds and the white fluffy loaves cut into slices in the morning is a luxury he scarce would have thought of just years before.

Edward likes the meat pies, hearty things, or nutty pastries— Though, those are hearty too, aren't they? Micaiah knows he likes those, too, her watching him just as he watches her; Or maybe she just knows, as she tends to know. He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind, especially not when it comes in the form of skipping to the cafe, or sharing meals, or being presented with a delicious birthday cake. He reads Nolan and Leonardo's letters, too, combing through the words, watches Sothe slink off with his lunch trays. Watching, learning about all of them, really, how peacetime makes them soft. He turns the people he loves about in his hands, in his mind, and they continue to glisten in ways he's never known, in ways he will continue to love.

So what does she like? He's known a lot of things about Micaiah, the first frissions that appear in her composure, the things that make her laugh, where she likes to linger when she's tired or, the way she gives and gives and gives, always. But what's her favorite flower, animal, food?

Maybe he has a good idea of the latter, at this point. In the kitchens, the smell of butter, olive oil and garlic fills the air as Edward tilts a hot pan, shifting its contents, idly sucking a burn on his ring finger. Tomatoes and onions slosh in response, behind him at the ready: Basil, thyme, cheese... He's no master chef, but he's picked up one or the other thing, and he's not too chicken to scoot out of his comfort zone. Give him a moon, and he's sure he'll be frying with the best of them.

Another burn (hot!), an eager invitation and a hand playfully tugged along later, there's oodles of noodles stir-frying alongside the sauce, finally poured—carefully, don't smear it—into a shallow bowl to serve, garnished a pinch of shredded leaves, basil stuck alongside. Edward steps back, observes his work— And grins. Looks delicious. Smells delicious. He sneaks a noodle from the main pan. Tastes delicious! That's right, take that, a measly few bowls of pasta could never defeat him! Plates are piled along his arms, secure despite everything, spiriting the dishes out of the kitchen and onto the table in front of Micaiah.

Knowing her, she might have seen this coming. Even if she hadn't, she probably smelled it. He hopes the star-shaped novelty noodles still delight her.

Honestly, he just hopes-knows she'll like it, and he can make it better every next time he does this.

A salad bowl's the final dish placed before he flings his arms up, cheering. "Happy birthday!!!"

Micaiah spends the morning of her next birthday early outdoors (and for once next is a word she thinks of with deferential wonder rather than terror; for these celebrations Fodlan have given her ground her in even the sharpest of this land’s terrors), reading in the greenhouse and out in the courtyard

(Inside her satchel is a carefully wrapped journal she looks at throughout the day, copying from it into her own notes. Other books brought with her are ones from the library on plants and stars).

Toward midday the smells from the kitchen have her move closer to the rose gardens. She takes tea there, after having snuck into storage with the key she had from chores that week and if she sees a certain someone along the way, well, he seems happily enough engaged in his work that she doubt he minds.

There are no secrets here, no need for them; queen she may be but without Yune she realizes she is so very human. Just like every other laguz and beorc. She had not thought it a gift at first, but a loss; now, things are different; part of the notes stretched out in front of her are the names and birthdays of her dearest people and she knows she is not the only one who keeps track of such things.

She sighs and breathes deeply of bergamot and thinks of being among and alike.

The sun is her companion as much as ever but she swears the rays shine brighter for her when Edward greets her, the smile of accomplishment on his face is all the gift she’d ever need - but pulled along as she is, her stomach does growl at the clever blend of smells and the chatter of her dearest friend.

“Eat with me,” she insists between a mouthful, it comes out choked (hot! He did so well with the spices, Micaiah was unaware she even liked these but, yes, she loves them), and already there is a glass of water waiting for her. She drinks it down than splashes some playfully Edward’s way.

“Or you can just watch me, I suppose,” she says, taking a smaller bite this time and letting the satisfaction show fully on her face, “but keep me company will you?”

There will be more times like this, in Daien, perhaps not with the same spices (but she will see about talking to Queen Nailah about her stock) and not with the same amount of sun shining through gilded windows but there will be warmth. In the land of snow and crags where they were born Micaiah knows with Edward by her side, there will always be that.

[sickly-qt]

Finn Sick at Night

Woah! I said I would put out a fic and I actually did it? Never thought I would see it happen. Anyway, this is the first fic i was able to get together, so bear with me if it’s a bit rough. I’m still getting back into the swing of things. 

I hope you guys enjoy some sick Finn :)

~~~

“Hello?” Finn said groggily, rubbing his eyes as he lifted his head from his pillow..

“Hey,” Drew replied, “You’re coming over tonight right?” Finn could hear the sizzle of food frying in a pan on the other end of the phone.

He stared at the clock on his bedside table waiting for his eyes to adjust. 5:27. Shit, he had overslept. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry, I got out of work a little late. Give me like 15 minutes and I'll be right over.” Finn sat up in bed and ran his hand through his hair.

There was a pause and Finn waited to see if Drew had picked up on his white lie. 

“Okay, take your time. I’m making dinner, it should be ready when you get here.”

“That sounds really good, Love. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love you.”

“I love you too, babes. I’ll see you soon.” Drew hung up and Finn sighed, rubbing his eyes. 

He had left work early after he had bolted out of a meeting to stare into the toilet for a solid 10 minutes, waiting for the reappearance of his meager breakfast that would never actually come. After getting home he had promptly passed out and nearly slept through his plans with Drew. 

He was feeling a bit better, less nauseous and more worn out and a little cold.

Finn pushed himself out of bed and got dressed, planning on telling Drew that he had changed before he left work and headed out for Drew’s.

~~

“Hey, Sweets. There’s food on the stove if you’re hungry.” Drew said over the back of the couch when Finn let himself into her apartment. 

“I’m not.” He mumbled, slowly kicking off his shoes and peeling off his jacket. “I’m honestly just really tired, baby. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you should at least eat a little bit though.” She said, getting up to put her bowl in the sink. She gave him a weird look when she walked past him. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“Yeah, my stomach has just been giving me some issues today…” 

Drew frowned at him and walked over to him, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead.

“You’re a little warm, but I don’t think you have a fever. Do you think you’ve caught something?”

“I don’t know, love. I just want to lay down.” Finn almost whined.

“Okay, let’s lay down then.” Drew led him over to the couch and sat with her feet propped on the coffee table and Finn spread out with his head on her lap. It didn’t take long for him to doze off.

He must’ve been sleeping for awhile when Drew finally woke him up to go to bed. The living room was dark, save for the lamp that was left on. 

Finn was basically a zombie as he walked to the room and laid down in bed, passing right back out as soon as he hit the mattress, he didn’t even feel Drew get into bed beside him. 

When he woke up next, it was still dark. The glowing numbers on the alarm clock showing 4:17 am. He could hear Drew breathing next to him, sound asleep. He felt much worse than when he had fallen asleep, the feeling of nausea returning. He felt sick. Finn sighed and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Drew stirred for a second before rolling over and falling back asleep. 

His body felt heavy and it took effort for him to move, but he could tell that he was going to vomit. 

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself as he got up and made his way to the bathroom down the hall. He paced for a minute before finally settling on the floor, staring into the toilet. It was painfully quiet, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. After a couple moments he retched, which seemed to echo throughout the quiet apartment. Nothing came up beside saliva, but he gagged again and a small mouthful of the pasta he ate for lunch came back up. A couple seconds passed before he retched once more, a slightly larger mouthful of his stomach contents splashed into the toilet. 

He coughed and cursed to himself when he heard Drew’s light footsteps come down the hall.

“Babes?” She said quietly as pushed the door open, her voice was scratchy from sleep and her hair was a mess as she staggered into the bathroom. 

Finn didn’t get a chance to answer before he leaned back over the toilet, burping up another mouthful of sick. 

Drew blinked slowly as what was happening slowly seeped into her sleep fogged brain. 

“Okay, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She said, clearly still half asleep. She squeezed his shoulder and rubbed her other hand across his back. Drew left for a moment before coming back and setting a cup of water on the floor by his knee. She sat cross legged behind Finn resting her forehead against his back as she ran her hand up and down his spine. 

“How long have you been in here?” Drew asked, her head still resting against his back.

“15 minutes?” He said quietly, his voice scratchy from vomiting. “You can go back to bed, babe. You’re clearly exhausted.” 

“No, I’m okay.” She mumbled, “You said your stomach was bothering you but were you nauseous earlier?”

“Not when I got here, but I left work early because I barely kept my breakfast down.” A burp rumbled up from his chest but all that came up was spit.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Drew asked, lifting her head and kissing his shoulder.

“Because I thought it was just something I ate.” Finn reached up and flushed the toilet before pushing himself up from the floor, Drew following suit behind him. 

“Okay well, go lay down I just have to pee and then I’ll be in in a minute.” Drew mumbled and watched as Finn rinsed out his mouth before shuffling out of the bathroom. Drew closed the door behind him and braced herself against the sink, sighing. She felt sick, which was different for her, she didn’t get sympathy sickness. Even so, she was beginning to get used to this feeling, nagging nausea that would hit her at seemingly random times of day. She waited and when she realized that nothing was going to happen she shut off the light and returned to the bedroom where her red-headed boy was sprawled across the bed on top of the blankets. He was already fast asleep, exhausted from work and having been sick. Drew sighed, grabbing a blanket from the chair in the corner and draping it over Finn before crawling back in bed herself. She laid in bed staring at the ceiling listening to Finn’s slow and steady breaths, the only sound other than the single thought floating around in her head.

Fuck.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Cooking Masterlist

All I Wanted For Christmas This Year Was You (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan and Phil are having a Christmas party and get a little distracted along the way

A sight for sore eyes (ao3) - HeartSkipStyles

Summary: Dan teases Phil whilst they're cooking in the kitchen.

a room full of my safest sounds (ao3) - snsk

Summary: day five: domestic fluff

Dan and Phil Make 'Food Stew' - The Howlter Family Edition (ao3) - gerardopoly

Summary: Dan and Phil feature their son Dil in a special episode of their "baking" series. They both had thought it would be a great way to display their relationship as a family on film, and a way to change their content up a bit. However, the roles are switched around when the couple play the sous chefs, and their son, as the head chef. Come on down and learn to make the perfect 'food stew' on this special episode of cooking with Dan and Phil (+ Dil).

Don't start fires, darling (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Phil wanted to expand his and Dan's repertoire of dishes, so they didn't need to live off of stir-fry and delivery. He thought that cooking lessons would be an awesome way to do that and have a fun date activity. The people in the restaurant do not agree but he and Dan find the humour in it.

EXTREME TRIPLE CHOCOLATE NESTS (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan and Phil cook some Easter nests.

Home With A Heartbeat (ao3) - JenCollins, WordsAblaze

Summary: Uni’s hard, so sometimes Dan ends up missing lunch. This time he goes to Phil, who gives him not only worried looks, a meal, and cooking skills, but also a home.

Jealousy in a Less Obvious Form (ao3) - razortotherozary

Summary: Phil looked at his door briefly and then back at the camera. "Also," he said, pausing for a few seconds and taking another big breath. "I'm in love with someone. Though, they don't know it." Phil looked slightly sad in this moment, glancing at the ground. "And they'd hate me forever if they found out."

kitchen hazards (ao3) - manchestereye (orphan_account)

Summary: dan and phil take cooking lessons, only for shit to hit the fan

Magical Healing Properties (ao3) - adorkablephil (kimberly_a)

Summary: Phil’s sick and wants his mum’s chicken soup

Night In (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: Phil feels bad after a five second fight with his boyfriend. He is extra soft to make up for it.

Of Cats and Smoke Alarms (ao3) - thatsformetoknow

Summary: In which Dan is the neighbour that keeps setting off the smoke alarm in the building and Phil is the neighbour that offers to give him cooking lessons, tired of his Buffy marathons and sleep schedules being messed up. Throw in a few house plants and Dan's cat that Phil happens to be completely in love with, if a little allergic to, and love is sure to blossom, right?

pancakes (ao3) - howelllesters

Summary: Dan tries to make Phil breakfast in bed. Instead he just makes a mess of the kitchen, Phil’s pyjamas, and his own hand.

ready to cook with fire (ao3) - CapriciousCrab

Summary: That time when unwanted cooking lessons end up being the best gift ever

security! (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan comes home to Phil after tour rehearsals. They cook, kiss and banter. And Dan reflects on the word "security".

the sanctity of fajitas (ao3) - kishere

Summary: prompt: dan and phil cook something without the recipe, because phil is confident they know how to cook it from memory

The whisk fic (ao3) - BREAD2000yeet

Summary: dan and phil get down with a whisk

Yes, Chef (ao3) - letspartyrightnow

Summary: Dan is really into his cooking lessons. And other things.

[shatteredsilverwing]

A Fleeting Sanctuary (Pt. I)

Hello, it's me, ShatteredSilverWing!

It had been quite a while since I've written anything but I still hope that you will enjoy the first part of my "A Fleeting Sanctuary" fiction!

It was supposed to fit into one post, yet there were so many ideas swirling through my head that I just couldn't stop, so I had to split it up in the end.

Also, I took most of my inspiration from the writings of @crisiscutie so most of the credit for the idea goes to her!

Enjoy!

Words: 785

Characters: 4.337

Content warnings: slight angst, mentions of anxiety, pregancy

Oh, how dumb you were for thinking that escaping Shinra with your beloved together would grant you eternal happiness; free from their strangling clutches. But you should have known that they would end up finding both of you sooner or later, since they had their eyes in every nook and cranny on the planet Gaia. Sending out spies was a daily routine for them after all. You knew; you were one of them once.

On that day, Sephiroth decided to go hunting early in the morning, so you had been alone at home with your lovely daughter. You thought about preparing lunch with her together, so you went into the kitchen with her to set up everything. Your daughter was very young, but she was already well-versed in how to use a knife, which is why you gave her the particular task of cutting the vegetables into bite-sized pieces. You, in the meanwhile, filled up the pots with water and sometimes looked out for her, giving her support when needed. The two of you were smiling, laughing and even making teasing jokes at each other, and it filled your heart with joy until it was ready to burst to have her with you.

You felt so insecure back then when you figured out that you had been pregnant. At that time, you and Sephiroth had just found a suitable place within a cabinet in the woods, not very far from its inherent village. It was a small, humble village, so you gave it a risk to stay here and giving into the illusion to have found a sanctuary here.

During the first trimester of your pregnancy, both of you had to face many several obstacles, especially between you two.

Sephiroth, who never wasted a thought on becoming a father in the first place, was filled with anxiety and a jumpiness you had never seen on him before. He was always ready to protect you without hesitation; fighting off anyone who dared to trouble you. His nerves were constantly on edge and the only times where he felt at ease was when he could drift off to sleep while being embraced by your yet fragile body.

When you had reached the second trimester of your pregnancy and your belly started to grow, most of his anxiousness got washed away by the joy he felt when he saw your body blossom.

The rest of his troubles and trepidations left his mind entirely when your daughter finally saw the light of the day. He had been at ease and a loving, caring father ever since.

And you felt the same after you gave birth to her. Though you had still pondered a lot about you even being able to become a capable mother, the happiness you felt blew away all your insecurities. And given time, it became natural to you being a mother. And your daughter became one of the most precious people you could have ever asked for in your life. The other, being your beloved Sephiroth, of course.

Just as you had finished to stir-fry the freshly cut vegetables with your sweet daughter together, a loud and sudden bang reached your ears.

"I'll open the door! It's probably Daddy!", your daughter shouted with glee as she was already dashing to the front door.

"Sweetie, wait!", you shouted back, drying your hands on a towel and running after her.

How often had you told her not to answer the door when she's alone at home or none of her parents were currently available to do so.

To her daughter's luck, it had always been either a kind villager, who regulary offered their help with your growing in the backyard, or her much-loved Daddy who just came home from hunting or training.

Unfortunately, this time, it was neither of them.

Your heart paused in fright for a moment when you realized who was standing in the doorframe: A tall, bald man wearing a black suit. The fact that he's wearing sunglasses didn't make him look less intimidating, neither did his leather-gloved hands.

The expression on your daughter's face changed in an instant while she hesitantly took a few steps back before she ran back to you.

"Mommy...", she whimpered while she hid behind your long, silken skirt; shutting her eyes tight.

There was no mistake: This guy was a Turk, an elite even, directly sent from Shinra's General Affairs Division.

How could this even be...?

The utter shock in your bones made your legs tremble in panic. Your breath ran shallow, making you feel dizzy while the pounding of your heart made you feel nauseous.

Failing to find the words to speak, your opponent began to speak first.

[meaningtotellyou]

I lived alone for three years and I COMPLETELY agree with your last anon! I'd also add deciding on a few recipes you really love that you also like to eat leftovers of, because cooking for one person means you'll pretty much always make more than you need so you'll want to make stuff that either lasts a while or makes you happy to have for lunch, too. I always loved stir fry, casseroles, and keeping basic sandwich supplies on hand for times when cooking wasn't in the cards.

It's also fun to be like, exactly as weird as you want to be in your own home, alone. I remember just laying on the floor wherever I wanted, putting posters all over and moving them around whenever I felt like it, and just really learning about what I'm like when I'm not trying to be anything.

It's also a great way to learn how to clean in a way you actually want to do, whether that's on a strict schedule or in random fits and bursts, without inconveniencing anyone else, but also be ready to learn how dirty you're actually willing to let your kitchen get 🫠

im genuinely most excited about getting to decorate and move things where and how i want like !! it’s all i can think about really

[gachagon]

A Hero’s Fealty

Genre: Fluff, Romance

Words: 5.2k

Pairing: Kunigami/Chigiri , Kunigiri

Kunigami has a lot of Blue Lock points, but he had no idea how to spend them. When he gets to know Chigiri a bit better however, he finally finds out just what (or who) he wants to spend all his points on.

Tags: cute, fluff, romance, gift giving

    Kunigami had a lot of Blue Lock points to spend, but no idea how to spend them. He mostly just used the few he had to get curry for lunch instead of the boring natto that was usually dispensed to those lower ranked than him. Sometimes he’d use the points to get himself better equipment from outside, like a better water bottle, or more stable cleats. That wasn’t enough to spend all of them though, so he was always left with an exorbitant amount of points, unknown to most of the other Blue Lockers. 

Once, during lunch, he debated on using his points to just give to the others for once. He remembered Igaguri and Isagi begging to switch lunch with him. In exchange for his curry, they’d give him Natto and rice. He wasn’t particularly a fan of it, but as he looked at their small pathetic faces he felt a little bad for them. “Alright fine, we can switch…” Kunigami had said, getting ready to hand his plate over. 

“Oh? They have curry here in the cafeteria?” Kunigami looked up to see a curious Chigiri eyeing his plate as well. “I didn’t know that…hey Kunigami, can we switch? I’ll give you my stir fry for your curry.” 

Kunigami had completely forgotten about Isagi and Igaguri at that moment. Something about the way Chigiri asked for the curry made him immediately trade his plate for stir fried vegetables, a dish he had voiced hating more than once to his mom at dinner. Chigiri took the plate graciously from him, and then smiled at Kunigami. “Ah, thanks. I’ve been getting kind of sick of stir fry this week.” Chigiri said, as he began to eat some of the curry. 

“We can switch from now on.” Kunigami told him. He gave up his own lunch forever without hesitation. Isagi and Igaguri stalked off, defeated and mumbling about how unfair the point system was. Kunigami did not hear them though, as he forced down more of the stir fry. 

“Is that really okay, though? I mean, I only get stir fry because of my rank.” Chigiri said. “Wouldn’t you want to eat curry since you earned it, or whatever?” He looked a little hesitant to continue eating more of the curry, and Kunigami would not have that. 

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” He told him. “Besides, I’ve almost eaten all your stir fry. It’s too late to trade back.” He deliberately shoved more of the food in his mouth, and Chigiri chuckled. 

“Well alright then, if you insist. We can trade lunch again tomorrow.” Chigiri had a small, fond smile on his face as he ate more of the curry. Kunigami sat next to him for the duration of lunch, though he had long since finished all of the stir fry. He decided he’d talk with Chigiri until he finished his meal, though while Chigiri told him about his day and his training, Kunigami had figured out for the first time what he wanted to spend his Blue Lock points on. He also realized that stir fried vegetables weren’t so bitter to him after that day. 

If anyone besides Chigiri had asked him then if it was his favorite dish, he’d have probably lied. 

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Practice was one of Kunigami’s favorite periods of the day. Mostly because he got to follow his own plan, instead of the plan of some loud mouthed coach who was always yelling. Ego never showed his face in person, and only appeared on one of the large screens in the facility when he needed to announce something important, so for the most part the Blue Lockers were without guidance when they practiced. Team Z, the team he had been assigned to when he first got there, had decided they’d practice together in one of the empty training fields. Kunigami was fine with that, despite how little he knew of the other 10 players on his team. 

There was one person he was a little intrigued by, however. Chigiri usually kept to himself whenever they practiced, always alone and in the corner far away from the loudest of the team like Raichi. 

Kuon had urged Chigiri multiple times to practice with them, but Kunigami could see that his pleas were getting nowhere. Chigiri sat on the soft turf with his head resting on his knees, overseeing the others' harsh training. He had an incredibly bored look on his face, as if he wished he could be anywhere but at practice that day. 

“I wonder what his weapon is…” Isagi muttered from next to Kunigami. He had walked up to the small bench area to rifle through his bag for a water bottle. Isagi’s eyes were also locked onto Chigiri’s lone form across the pitch. “It must be something special if he doesn’t even want to train.” 

Kunigami shrugged, “If he doesn’t wanna train, we should just let him do what he pleases.” He said, taking a seat on the bench. “He’ll just get left behind if he doesn’t do his part.” 

Isagi nodded solemnly as he sipped his water bottle. As the two of them rested on the bench, Isagi made some small talk with Kunigami. Though he found he kept looking over at Chigiri every other second. Despite his words earlier, Kunigami couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong about letting Chigiri waste away in the corner. He tried to shove that thought down, though every time he looked at Chigiri, a hint of doubt would emerge. 

Isagi chuckled softly, nudging him. “Hey look, if you wanna go train with Chigiri I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” he said to him. Kunigami glanced down at Isagi, with a raised brow. “Oh come on, I’ve been trying to talk for the past 5 minutes now. You clearly wanna help the guy out. Maybe he just needs someone to talk to.” Kunigami sighed, his eyes swiveling back to Chigiri who was still sitting there, ignoring everyone around him. 

“Go on. It’s not like he’ll bite you or anything.” Isagi said with a smile. “And anyways, aren’t you two friends already?” 

Kunigami jolted, “No. We’re not. I don’t even know him that well.” he said.

Isagi looked at him confused, “Really? You trade your lunch with a guy you ‘don’t know that well’ every day?” He asked him, and Kunigami groaned.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go over and just…see how he’s doing.” Kunigami patted his leg and stood up from the bench. He slowly walked over to Chigiri who barely reacted to him at all. Chigiri had just been sitting on the turf the entire practice time, just observing everyone else’s progress steadily. Kunigami had told himself multiple times that he shouldn’t meddle in anything Chigiri does, and that he should just leave Chigiri to do what he wants. Though, when he found himself standing in front of Chigiri again, he knew that he had made the correct choice in listening to Isagi, who in turn had just told him to do something he’d wanted to do from the beginning. 

Kunigami awkwardly raised a hand, “Hey.” He greeted Chigiri plainly. “What…are you doing?” He mentally cursed himself for how he was handling this so far. 

Chigiri shrugged, his arms still wrapped around his legs as he looked out at the field. “Nothing. Just enjoying practice like everyone else, I suppose.” He answered, his eyes still locked ahead of him. Kunigami realized that Chigiri had refused to look over his way even when he had first walked up to him. He felt it was odd having to look down at Chigiri the entire time, and he knew if he sat with him that neither of them would really train that day. Time was also running out for the time allotted to them to use the training field for that evening, and soon they’d all have to leave to hit the showers. Kunigami would not let himself fail at getting Chigiri to practice at least once. 

He looked over a few paces away from Chigiri where a ball had seemingly drifted in the midst of all the drills being run. Kunigami went over to the ball, put it under his heel, and then turned back to Chigiri with a determined look. “Let's run drills together.” He said, rolling the ball back and forth leisurely. Chigiri looked over at him finally, with a slightly annoyed face. 

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” He said, though Kunigami wouldn’t relent so easily. 

“Come on, get up. There’s still some time left, and I haven’t done any today.” He kicked the ball over to Chigiri. It bounced lightly against his leg, and Kunigami noted how Chigiri stopped himself from rolling his eyes at him. Kunigami continued to stare at Chigiri, until eventually with a sigh, Chigiri stood up and kicked the ball back at him. 

The two of them practiced together for a short while, until Kuon called everyone over to the benches as time was up. Before Chigiri could completely disappear, Kunigami placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. “Good job. We’ll practice again tomorrow.” he told him. Chigiri had an uncertain look in his eye, but Kunigami ignored it as he walked away. 

The next day, when practice was scheduled, instead of going off his own regimen like he usually did, Kunigami immediately walked over to Chigiri before he could stalk off to a corner. Slowly, the two of them practiced with each other. At first, they started off with basic training, but as the days dragged on and they met each other for practice more and more, Kunigami was able to put in other things for Chigiri and him to do. Kunigami even managed to include other members of the team, and before long Chigiri felt like another member of the team. 

Ego announced that their first game was in a few days, so while they still had time to practice, now was the time to discuss strategy. Kuon took up the role of a leader very easily, and most of Team Z listened to his advice when they met up in the shared dormitory. “We’ll train for one more day tomorrow…and then afterwards, we’ll discuss multiple different strategies for our first game.” Kuon explained to them. 

That training day was an unusually boring one, even though Kunigami had Chigiri for company. He found that he could make easy conversation with Chigiri while they practiced, and had looked forward more to being able to speak with him, then the actual practice they did with each other. Chigiri was also not as talkative at lunch as Kunigami had hoped, though this still didn’t stop him from trading away his food. Kunigami wondered about ways he could get Chigiri to talk to him during lunch as opposed to the usual one note “Thanks for the food.” that Chigiri gave him. 

While he was absorbed in his own thoughts, he completely missed the concerned look on Chigiri’s face. “Kunigami…?” he asked him. “Are you okay? You’re kinda…staring off into space over there.” 

Kunigami shook his head a little. “I’m fine, I was just thinking, that’s all.” he said. “I’m gonna go for a water break.” He excused himself to go over to the benches. He sat down for a moment, and found his canister exactly where he left it. Before he could take a sip of it however, Raichi and Igaguri walked up to him, both incredibly exhausted and sweaty. 

“Kunigami! Can me and Raichi have a sip of your water, please?” Igaguri asked with his hands clasped together.

“We were fools and left our bags in the dorm rooms! Kuon’s not letting anyone leave until training’s over with so…” Raichi joined the monk in begging, both of them bowed their heads as they pleaded. Kunigami sighed as he looked at their bent figures. He felt bad for them, and was just about to open his mouth to say they could have it, until he looked over to where Chigiri had stalked off to without him. 

Chigiri was a few feet away, seemingly rooting through his own bag for a water bottle, until he came up with a defeated look on his face. Naruhaya, who was enjoying his own water, glanced at Chigiri. Kunigami strained his ear to listen over Igaguri and Raichi’s sniveling voices. 

“What’s wrong, Chigiri?” Naruhaya asked. “My bag’s all wet, I think my water bottle broke while it was in here…it was my only one, dammit.” he said, as he shoved his bag away from the others so as to not get them wet as well. He sighed, and looked down at his feet with a dejected look on his face. Kunigami did not like to see the way Chigiri’s face transformed when he frowned. He got up and pushed his way past Igaguri and Raichi, and held his water bottle out to Chigiri. 

“You can have this one for now.” He said, ignoring the surprised gasps from the two boys behind him. Chigiri took it from him hesitantly. 

“Oh thanks, but isn’t this one of the specialty ones you get with points…?” Chigiri said as he turned it around in his hand. 

Kunigami urged him on, “It’s fine. I have enough points for another one anyways, so drink up.” Chigiri gave him a rare smile, and decided to just take the offer. Igaguri and Raichi had long since left to go sulk elsewhere, or to beg someone else for their water. There was something oddly familiar about the entire encounter, though Kunigami couldn’t understand why. When practice ended for the day, Kunigami followed closely behind Chigiri. As he looked down at him, he noticed that Chigiri still had the faint smile from earlier on his face, and Kunigami felt then that he accomplished some kind of goal, though he had no memory of ever setting one for himself. 

Before they turned in for the night, Chigiri tried to give the water bottle back. They were in the changing room, and Kunigami had stayed behind to wait for Chigiri, while the others had slowly filed out one by one. The energy amongst the team was tense with nerves as tomorrow was the first time they would strategize for their game. For tonight, however, they would simply rest. Chigiri finally came out of the shower room clothed, his hair very obviously dripping with water. He had a towel lazily placed on the top of his head, as he spotted Kunigami still in the changing room. “Oh you’re still here? I was going to give this back to you.” Chigiri walked over to where he had stowed away the bottle, and tried to hand it back to Kunigami, but he pushed Chigiri’s hand away.

“Keep it. I don’t need it that much, anyways.” He said. “I have points, remember?’

Chigiri had an uncomfortable smile on his face as he held the bottle in his hand. He looked as if he wanted to object, but Kunigami’s unrelenting stare told him he wouldn’t get anywhere by trying to convince him to take the bottle back. “Ok then. Thank you…” He said, with one last look at Kunigami before turning away. He sat down a few seats away on the hard wooden bench in the changing room, next to his still soggy looking bag that he had from practice. 

Chigiri looked down at the bag, and sighed lowly as he opened it and took out a hairdryer. Kunigami eyed the ruined bag with his supplies in it with a level gaze. “I can get you a new bag.” he offered to Chigiri. 

Chigiri looked over at him, his head slightly tilted as he dried his hair with a towel wrapped around the pink locks. “What will you do about your water bottle, then?” he asked him. Kunigami simply shrugged.

“I don’t need it that badly. It’s fine.” He said simply, his eyes trained on the luster of Chigiri’s hair rather than his face. Everyone knew Chigiri had very attractive looking hair, including Kunigami who found that even though Chigiri didn’t speak to him during their lunch period, admiring his looks was enough.

Kunigami ignored the small voice in his mind reminding him he really only had enough Blue Lock points for a bottle. Chigiri looked away from him then, a small smile gracing his features as he combed through his hair lazily with his fingers. Kunigami’s eyes traced every movement of them as they sat quietly in the small changing room, until Chigiri spoke again. 

“Hey, Kunigami?” he spoke in his usual calm cadence. Kunigami cocked his head towards Chigiri as he listened. “You’re a pretty cool guy, you know that?” Chigiri glanced at him. Kunigami felt then that he couldn’t look at Chigiri anymore, and he fought the slight heat that came to his face as he looked away. Seeing as this was finally his chance to talk to Chigiri like he wanted to, he berated himself silently as he couldn’t think of anything to say right then. 

“It’s nothing…” He muttered. Kunigami felt the breath in his chest tighten slightly with a strange sort of pressure as he heard Chigiri chuckle softly at him. This time, Kunigami was certain that he could not look at him, and his efforts to fight away the creeping blush to his face was straining. 

Chigiri stood up from the bench, and walked past Kunigami. “Goodnight.” he said to Kunigami, as he left the changing room alone. Kunigami sat on the bench for a few moments, before forcing himself to get up and  head to the dorms. That night, Kunigami’s thoughts were infected with the memory of Chigiri’s laugh. A small part of him knew that it was a noise he would not forget soon. 

……………………………………………………………………………………….

The next day was a strategy meeting, and it was a very long one. Kuon talked for hours about different ideas, and many of them seemed pretty half baked with the team that they had. Team Z, according to Ego, were at the bottom of the barrel. Any teams they were going to face were going to undoubtedly be better than them, and using petty tricks to win was a long shot, but it was all they had at the moment. Kunigami was willing to go with whatever Kuon suggested, especially since he couldn’t come up with any ideas himself. 

When they were finally finished with the meeting, everyone was weary and ready to finally rest. The meeting had lasted all day, and now it was finally time to turn in for the night. Team Z got ready for bed, and filed into the dorm room, though before Kunigami turned in for the night, he looked around and noticed that Chigiri was nowhere to be found. His bed was empty, and also lacked any kind of bedding. 

“Where did Chigiri go?” he asked Isagi who yawned and settled into his own bed. 

“Chigiri? I think he went to the point kiosk to get new bedding. Gagamaru and Naruhaya were goofing off around lunch time, and since they were eating in here, they got some of their natto on his bed…” Isagi shook his head in disappointment as he laid down. “So Chigiri went to see if he could exchange his points for new bedding…those guys, I swear…” 

Kunigami glanced back at Chigiri’s empty bed. Everyone else in the room slowly turned over to sleep, and the lights dimmed in the room slowly. Kunigami thought about turning over himself and just going to sleep, but he sat there and stared at Chigiri’s empty bed, until he felt his feet hit the ground and he was up. He went to the door and swiftly left the dorms, his eyes roving the halls for Chigiri. 

The point kiosk was in the cafeteria, located far back in a corner that could easily be passed up if you weren’t immediately looking for it. Kunigami spotted it right away however, if only because of Chigiri’s stark pink hair acting as a beacon to it. He made his way over to Chigiri and the kiosk, and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

With a jolt, Chigiri looked up at Kunigami with wide eyes. He released a sigh of relief, “Oh it’s you. What are you doing sneaking up on people?” He asked him with a quirked brow. 

“Sorry…” Kunigami apologized, a hand behind his head. “I just wanted to see if you needed new bedding. You can use mine for the night.” 

Chigiri looked at him with a soft gasp, “R-really? I don’t know, that seems like a bit much…” He said warily. “What about your own bedding?” 

“Don’t worry about it, I can always get new ones.” He told Chigiri, waving his hand dismissively. Chigiri looked Kunigami in the eye for a short moment, before relenting completely. 

“Alright then.” He said, a look of slight amusement crossing his face as he eyed Kunigami again. “Let me guess…you have points for bedding too, huh?” he chuckled and Kunigami glanced away from him. That familiar heat was fighting its way to his cheeks, but he bit the inside of his mouth to focus again. 

“Let’s just head to bed now. I’ll get new bedding and you can have mine.” Kunigami said finally, his head turned slightly away from Chigiri. Even though he wasn’t looking at him directly, Kunigami could sense the coy smirk that Chigiri held as he stared up at him. 

“Hey, Kunigami?” Chigiri called out to him. He craned his head a little so he could peer into Kunigami’s eyes directly. “You sure like to give stuff away, huh?” Chigiri’s smirk grew into a tilted grin. Kunigami felt trapped in that small corner in the back of the cafeteria. Now that he was looking into Chigiri’s eyes, he couldn’t force his gaze to move elsewhere. 

“It’s just the right thing to do. It’s a courtesy.” Is all Kunigami could say in response to that. At that moment, he was completely taken by Chigiri’s presence. Even though he had spent so much time next to Chigiri, that singular moment by the kiosk was the first time that Kunigami had been so keenly aware of how close they were. 

“Oh?” Chigiri placed a gentle hand against Kunigami’s chest, and he felt his heart's pulse jump at the contact instantly. “And are all those other times you’ve given me things just ‘courtesies’?” There was a playful lilt to Chigiri’s voice that sounded far too natural for how normally reserved he was. Kunigami wasn’t sure how to take all of this, and was frozen to the spot. 

“Well since you’re being so ‘courteous’, I think we should use our names with one another now. I’ll call you Rensuke from now on! Okay?” Chigiri stated as he smiled up at him. Kunigami found that he really liked the way his name sounded on Chigiri’s voice, so he agreed instantly with a nod. “And you can call me Hyouma. Does that sound nice to you?” 

Kunigami thought it sounded amazing just then, but he believed that was too forward for such an occasion. 

With one final look, Chigiri tore his eyes away from Kunigami’s and brushed past him. Kunigami blinked, and suddenly he could focus again and noticed the light from the kiosk in front of him. “Goodnight, Rensuke.” Chigiri called to him, as he left the cafeteria. When Kunigami returned to the dorms, he found his bed stripped of bedding. Chigiri’s sleeping form was hidden beneath a bundle of blankets and sheets. With a content sigh, Kunigami went to bed that night. The next morning, nobody noticed how bare his bed was. 

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Team Z won their first game just a day later, and everyone was in very high spirits due to the victory. It truly felt like it was one of the most difficult games they had ever played, and Kunigami was thankful that they had gotten past this first hurdle. Kuon’s instruction, though very shoddy, worked out for them in the end. To celebrate, they all decided to eat as much of the good food provided for top rankers in the dorms together. 

When they were finally finished eating, many of the Blue Lockers had just settled down anywhere in the dorms to rest. As night soon approached, you couldn’t walk anywhere without stumbling on the lone body of a soccer player sprawled out from eating too much. Kunigami stepped over a sleeping Igaguri and headed out of the dorms to potentially rest somewhere else for the night. As he stalked the hallway, he noticed that the light in the changing room was still on despite it being well after hours. 

Kunigami peeked his head into the doorway, and his eyes immediately found Chigiri in the empty room as he brushed his hair in a mirror. One of the perks of “moving” up according to Ego was a revamp of some of the facility's utilities. As such, the changing room now had new dressers that came with tall, round mirrors for you to look into. One could sit in front of them and stow away important things as well, like towels or in Chigiri’s case, hair supplies. Kunigami didn’t have to say anything for Chigiri to know he was there. 

“Hey. What are you still doing up?” Chigiri asked him, his eyes momentarily glancing his way as he continued to brush. “I would think you of all people would be exhausted after today, we probably wouldn’t have won without your goal.” Chigiri chuckled softly. 

 Kunigami couldn’t exactly agree with that sentiment, considering Chigiri’s speed was really the key to them beating the other team. “Your weapon is why we won. I just went wherever Kuon wanted me to go.” Kunigami said with a shrug. 

Chigiri scoffed at him, “Give yourself more credit. You know, you’re very talented, Rensuke.” he said, and then he laughed again at how Kunigami glanced away from him. “And you’re really bad at taking compliments, I’ve noticed.”

“It’s not that, it’s just…hero’s are supposed to be humble, aren’t they?” Kunigami asked with folded arms. 

Chigiri let out a small laugh, “Oh and this is your way of being humble? You act so bashful whenever I say anything nice to you…it’s cute.” Chigiri set his brush down, and simply corded his fingers through his hair. Kunigami was so entranced by this simple movement once again that he almost felt unaffected by Chigiri’s words. He had been called a lot of things by other players before, but cute was not one of them. After a short moment of silence, Chigiri spoke again. “Rensuke…come here.” His eyes were still trained on the mirror in front of him as he ran his fingers through his long hair. 

Without even thinking about it, Kunigami’s feet moved so that he could be next to Chigiri. He felt awkward standing over him while Chigiri sat by the mirror, so he knelt beside his chair. This amused Chigiri for some reason that Kunigami couldn’t figure out, though he realized then that he couldn’t think about much else besides the way Chigiri would glance at him occasionally from his chair. “I didn’t even ask you to kneel, but it’s fine.” He said with a smile. “Since we won this recent game, everyone must have gotten points. You and Kuon have the most points currently, since you made the most goals this game…” 

Kunigami waited patiently as Chigiri spoke. “I need some supplies from outside. Do you think you could get them for me?” Chigiri asked him. “Supplies…? What kind?”

Chigiri looked down at him with a wide smile, and bright eyes as he began to list various hair care products he’d like to have in Blue Lock. As Chigiri went down his personal shopping list, Kunigami mentally counted how much it would all cost with his points. By the end of it, he realized he’d have just enough to get everything that Chigiri wanted. Kunigami had never seen Chigiri this excited before, and he was so pleased by the smile that Chigiri wore, that he didn’t question at all why Chigiri wanted to use his points for these items. Chigiri had made a goal himself, and might have enough for half of these things himself. That didn’t matter to Kunigami at all though. 

“So? Do you think you can get all of that?” Chigiri asked when he was finished. 

Kunigami nodded, “Yeah I can get you those things. I think I have enough for them, anyways…” He said, and Chigiri beamed at him. 

“Great! Thanks.” He looked down at Kunigami for a moment. Chigiri then placed a gentle hand underneath Kunigami’s chin, and he stroked his cheek slowly with the pad of his thumb. Just when Kunigami felt that some semblance of focus was returning to his mind, Chigiri’s touch melted it all away instantly. “You’ve been really kind, Rensuke.” Chigiri said to him in a soft tone. 

Kunigami wanted to give him more gifts if it meant he got to hear Chigiri’s voice again. Kunigami was so mesmerized by Chigiri in front of him, that his ears missed the first part of what Chigiri was saying. “Rensuke? Are you listening?” Chigiri asked him, his hand still underneath Kunigami’s chin. 

Kunigami snapped back to the present upon hearing his name, and he hummed. “Yeah, I’m listening. What were you saying?” He asked, and Chigiri chuckled again. It sounded like soft wind chimes to Kunigami. 

“I was saying…That I have enough points for ‘a day outside of Blue Lock’.” Chigiri explained. “I was wondering if you’d like to come with me? Ego says you can take one other person with you outside, so how about it? Do you want to go out?” 

Kunigami thought that was the best idea he’d ever heard, and he wanted nothing more than to say yes to whatever Chigiri wanted. “Yeah we can go out.” He answered simply. He had no idea where Chigiri would even go, but Kunigami didn’t think that mattered. 

“Perfect! Then it’s a date. We’ll go out tomorrow, since our next game isn’t for a few days.” Chigiri pushed away from the dresser and stood up, his hand slipping from underneath Kunigami’s chin finally. As he walked past Kunigami, Chigiri corded his hand through his hair and he petted it fondly. “Goodnight, hero. Wake up early so we can leave tomorrow, okay? Don’t be late.” Kunigami was still by Chigiri’s lone chair, his head resting on the arm rest as he blinked a little dazed.

“Yeah sure…” He muttered, unsure if Chigiri could even hear his reply. When Chigiri’s soft laugh drifted through the room, he knew he heard him despite his low tone. Chigiri went to bed then, and left Kunigami alone in the changing room. 

Kunigami stared off into space as he was still by the chair, his mind a buzz with all that had just happened. It wasn’t until Kunigami finally tore himself away from the chair, and headed for bed, that he realized he had somewhere to be tomorrow. 

A date…? He thought sleepily in bed. As Kunigami lost consciousness and fell into slumber, one singular thought continued to permeate his mind. It was the simple hope that tomorrow, when they went on their date, that Chigiri touched him again. He could feel the soft tips of his fingers still underneath his chin distantly as he fell asleep. 

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whoever said meal prep is easy is a dirty liar

i mean maybe ppl don't say it but I swear that it's implied in so much meal prep stuff

anyways I'm on this kick to make chipotle copycat burrito bowls and stiry fry bowls for work lunches bc it keeps me from wasting all my money at chipotle and it takes soooo loooong

well the stir fry bowls are easy bc I just make some rice (this time I used an uncle bens garden veggie rice bag and some brown rice) and some frozen veggies and the only thing that took longer was the chicken I marinated in teriyaki sauce and then cooked.

The steak burrito bowls tho take forever. I mean they come out so damn good but they take FOREVER.

Steak made with this recipe (clicky) don't believe the "put in the fridge for 30 mins" bs, what you want to do is take the steak and if its a thicker cut make surface cuts on each side, then slather the thing in the marinade and leave it in the fridge overnight. A full 24 hours is good. I left it for almost 2 whole days because I couldn't get to it and it almost made my dad cry from how good it was.

For the Adobo sauce I use this recipe more or less: ADOBO Mix 1 tablespoon tomato paste, 1 tablespoon vinegar, ½ teaspoon chipotle powder, pinch of cumin, a pinch of oregano, ½ teaspoon garlic, ½ teaspoon salt.

I skip the chili/chipotle powder bc sometimes my mom eats this and her stomach can't handle spice, and also I am not good at handling it either tbh.

HOWEVER this not only takes time for making the marinade, but also the cooking of the steak which, depending on the thickness and/or how many pieces you have, can take like up to half an hour

Anyways, after that the BEANS: i use this (clicky) recipe which is number one on the list of sites when you google and works just fine. I don't use lemon and lime juice. You can mess around with the seasoning, today I used the Everplate seasoning mix which is uhhhh right here (Hello Fresh and Everyplate are the same owners or whatever, this mixes are simple and make decently yum food)

Anyways, that's ANOTHER long time, I usually do the steak and the beans at the same time

AND THEN THE RICE which is just Zatarain's Cilantro Lime rice bc I am exhausted by this point. It tastes good enough and works really well with the steak and beans. Day before/of I chop the tomatoes and lettuce and add a hefty serving of sour cream because my cholesterol is really good for now so I'm enjoying it while I can

Anyways, this is a LOT OF WORK. Like, I don't technically have issues standing and moving around etc, but damn if standing for hours on end doesn't mess with you. Which I knew bc I used to work at a cafe/bakery where I was standing for hours but still!

If anyone tells you meal prep and getting your lunches ready like this is simple or easy or whatever you have my permission to smack them.