[ he's digging through the pantry for ingredients when she comes in. there's the usual - potatoes, some green beans and ingredients for a sauce already out and he's examining two different steaks like they're about to give him the answers to life, the universe and everything. ]
I was under the impression that talking about the topic directly was a bad idea. Talking around it ended up a bit... [ he raises his hands and smacks them together. unstoppable force and immoveable object. ]
Not my finest hour, no.
[ he glances side ways at her before picking up some of the vegetables ]
And now everyone’s yelled about the exact thing I thought was preferable to not yell about openly, it feels even more redundant.
My darling, sweet, dingus of a man, I don't think it was because of that. I think it was because you came storming in demanding to see their neck or else. Did you know that's the worst way to start a conversation with someone who doesn't like their face to be seen?
[she says this so lovingly. she also pinches his side.] Definitely not your finest hour.
[ he waves a potato with a flat face. exhausting. ]
We can see how that worked out. But, no. Not the best way around it. [ how. how long has everyone been here that faces being hidden is more of the norm? ] "Or else" wasn't really meant to be implied.
[ ... ]
That’s been happening every week since we got here...?
Edited (me at 7:15: oh shy. me at 9:42 after coffee: oh right the changes ) 2021-03-24 09:42 (UTC)
[ he just looks at her, and then leans to the side to bump his head against the side of hers lightly. ]
Thiiiiis is what I mean. Don't worry about it, it's not important.
Or not important enough to risk anything happening. Don't mind if I message you on Friday though, assuming I don't get myself wrapped up in something stupid.
[ there is something a little.... not annoyed? that's not the word for it. it's frustration, with some annoyance and a little regret, all mixed together. but not directed at her. ]
At this point I don't know what is and isn't safe for you to talk about, really. That's all.
[ he looks out for his own, he's said that plenty of times. ]
Not until I know more, and where the lines are drawn. [ ... ] 'Sides. Messaging you on Friday is always a pleasure. [ and a relief, sometimes. that he's, y'know. not dead. ]
...
C'mon. I was making you dinner, wasn't I? Rare, medium-rare, or medium? [ fuck well-done. ]
[ veggies and stuff are probably prepped. so. wavey hand motions, he'll just do those in a way that means i don't have to in detail describe yuri mashing potatoes. it might be the content we're all here for but-- ]
Sorry though. I'll figure it out, and how much is okay to say. [ his emotions are evening out the more he's cooking though. that's good? ]
[she's worried, but that doesn't stop her from wrapping her arms around him from behind and pressing her face against his back, between his shoulder blades.]
[she eases up when he wriggles her around, and just rests her head on his chest instead.]
It's, uh. It's my bad, for bringing it up. It's okay. [she leans up to press a kiss to his cheek, and then back down again.] ... You don't have to keep things from me is all.
[she laughs a little.] That's right, you're spoiling me. Uh - I don't know, surprise me. I'm just going to sit on the counter and get drunk while you cook me steak, actually!
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[ he's digging through the pantry for ingredients when she comes in. there's the usual - potatoes, some green beans and ingredients for a sauce already out and he's examining two different steaks like they're about to give him the answers to life, the universe and everything. ]
Welcome.
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Oooh. People don't usually cook for me. [she says, tilting her head.] Very fancy.
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You more of the cook yourself? [ hehe ] I had to learn, and then it turned out I actually kinda enjoyed it. And had a knack for it.
[ he selects one of the steaks and holds it up for her approval. ]
This one, I think.
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Looks good to me.
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[ he sounds like he's being a little shit, because he is. incredible. ]
You're a chef? Or is it just recreational?
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[ahh, hello, here's a bit of homesickness.] I'm going to Fantasy Gordon Ramsey you so hard.
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[ he's making a start on the veg first, because that'll take longer. wafty hands as he chops stuff. ]
I have no idea who that is, yet somehow I am immediately menaced. [ he does not sound menaced. ]
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I was under the impression that talking about the topic directly was a bad idea. Talking around it ended up a bit... [ he raises his hands and smacks them together. unstoppable force and immoveable object. ]
Not my finest hour, no.
[ he glances side ways at her before picking up some of the vegetables ]
And now everyone’s yelled about the exact thing I thought was preferable to not yell about openly, it feels even more redundant.
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[she says this so lovingly. she also pinches his side.] Definitely not your finest hour.
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Ask without asking, that was the plan.
[ he waves a potato with a flat face. exhausting. ]
We can see how that worked out. But, no. Not the best way around it. [ how. how long has everyone been here that faces being hidden is more of the norm? ] "Or else" wasn't really meant to be implied.
[ ... ]
That’s been happening every week since we got here...?
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... What has?
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Thiiiiis is what I mean. Don't worry about it, it's not important.
Or not important enough to risk anything happening. Don't mind if I message you on Friday though, assuming I don't get myself wrapped up in something stupid.
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I - okay? Sure. I don't ever mind you messaging me on Fridays.
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At this point I don't know what is and isn't safe for you to talk about, really. That's all.
[ he looks out for his own, he's said that plenty of times. ]
Not until I know more, and where the lines are drawn. [ ... ] 'Sides. Messaging you on Friday is always a pleasure. [ and a relief, sometimes. that he's, y'know. not dead. ]
...
C'mon. I was making you dinner, wasn't I? Rare, medium-rare, or medium? [ fuck well-done. ]
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she opens her mouth to say something, but he moves on, and she just frowns instead, ears twitching back against her skull.]
Medium-rare, I'm not a heathen.
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[ veggies and stuff are probably prepped. so. wavey hand motions, he'll just do those in a way that means i don't have to in detail describe yuri mashing potatoes. it might be the content we're all here for but-- ]
Sorry though. I'll figure it out, and how much is okay to say. [ his emotions are evening out the more he's cooking though. that's good? ]
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[she's worried, but that doesn't stop her from wrapping her arms around him from behind and pressing her face against his back, between his shoulder blades.]
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C'mere.
[ the hug is making him feel a lot calmer too? ]
This was supposed to be something fun and nice, and I'm already dragging the tone down, huh?
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[she eases up when he wriggles her around, and just rests her head on his chest instead.]
It's, uh. It's my bad, for bringing it up. It's okay. [she leans up to press a kiss to his cheek, and then back down again.] ... You don't have to keep things from me is all.
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[ oh, a kiss. that's nice though. ]
I'll try not to. I'll figure out something before the week end though.
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Okay. [she hugs him a little more tightly.] Need me to help cook?
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It'd be rude to make you cook your own treat? ... But if you want to get involved, what kind of sauce do you want?
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[ it's going to be peppercorn. because i just remembered peppercorn exists and now i really want a steak with peppercorn sauce. ]
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