april: catch-all | ❝ want to put my tender heart in a blender ❞

[quickfingers]

WHO: Peter Maximoff & You (ft. Wanda, Archie.)
WHERE: Various, can accommodate.
WHEN: Throughout April.
WHAT: Peter's going a week with a ported out boyfriend so there will be some bar hopping, a reunion with said boyfriend and some Easter chocolate hauling.
ETC: Hit me up at valleyheart if you want something not pictured here and I'll write you up a lil' somethin' special.


01. i would swallow my pride, i would choke on the rhymes | before april 2nd

[Peter's been doing pretty well for a guy who's had two romantic partners port out in just under six months. And he's only been here for nine. This most recent loss has hit pretty hard considering how much effort it took to try the whole relationship thing again after the first Porter-induced break up, but there's no amazingly drunken mistletoe make outs going on this time. Peter's holding together - although tonight he is sitting at the bar on the weekend before Easter sipping a beer and eating a pile of foil wrapped chocolate eggs that are sitting out in lieu of nuts.

It turns out there's a specialty drink advertised as an Easter exclusive, and after seeing one being served - Peter's intrigued. If you happen to wander by you may see him giving one a try with a thoughtful look of consideration for the taste, or if you're lucky enough to be seated next to him? He'll shoot you a glance to gauge your opinion before ordering the two of you one each.]

Hope this doesn't taste like shit. If it does, I'll get you something better. Just try it with me. Happy Easter?

02. swallow my doubt, turn it inside out

[It's the second holiday here (third if you count the Thanksgiving spent in space,) that Peter's been feeling a bit alone for. It's true he has friends and his sister to spend it with, and he'll be checking in with them over the weekend - but he's just not feeling like a big social guy. It's not even like he grew up super religious either, Easter was more of a Big Meal kind of thing with some chocolate gains on the side. It's the latter of which he misses today, so what's he gonna do? He's going to go load up on Easter candy like any respectable twenty eight year old would. And he's going to do it in two phases.

Phase one: Peter's going to buy a good cart full of colored eggs, jellybeans, candy of all shape and sizes and that weird plastic grass that his neighbor's cat always tried to eat. He'll also grab a handful of wicker baskets in a variety of colors too, because he's got a plan. And that plan? Is to outshine the motherfucking Easter Bunny this holy of risen Jesus days by creating some baskets for friends and family alike. So if you know him you'll probably end up with one of these on your doorstep later, but for the time being? Peter's loading up on supplies. And opening a pack of peanut butter cups in the middle of the store while he does so, too. Don't snitch.

Phase two: More like round two, Peter's going to hit up those same shops the day after Easter to buy most of what's discounted with wild and reckless abandon. Less baskets and grass and more giant sized creme eggs, Goliath slabs of chocolate and jars of sweets. Everything gets chucked in a shopping cart as he strolls the aisles and collects pretty much anything that catches his fancy. And that's pretty much everything? Hope you weren't counting on getting that last Crunchy The Rabbit. It's his now.]

Comments

or am I origami, folded up and just pretend | archie

[quickfingers]

[He's been hanging with Archie a lot lately and grateful for it; from spider crawling across his kitchen floor to eating edibles with mustard flavored regret, Peter likes the distraction. Especially now that the world stopped incessantly looping and instead decided to blindside him in another way. It's approaching a week since Odin ported out and each day just seems to solidify the inevitable a little harder. A little more real.

One thing that keeps him moving forward is the promise of another note, left behind in a morbid wrapped up will scenario that Peter both loves and hates. It's great to have a piece of Odin to surprise him but at the same time, so fucking bitter sweet. Waiting for the next letter in the series keeps bouncing around at the forefront of his mind so today's distraction is to ship himself over to see Archie with a shitload of Easter candy, shades on and some other sweet treats to enjoy.

Rooty's left snoozing at home in her bunny shaped onesie, promises made solemnly to her that he's going to bring her home an entire Big Mac meal to dine on herself. He didn't really think this through by the time he's on the doorstep, using his knee to knock with his arms full.]

Shit.

[h2no]

[archie doesn't actually hear the knocking at first, but clicks that there's someone by the door pretty fast. mostly because mightyena hears and starts pacing around, boofing to try and get archie's attention. he pulls the door open, then snorts at the sight. he holds a hand out to take the basket for him and stands aside to worldlessly invite him in.]

I will teach you how to kick down doors. After this.

[quickfingers]

I told you, I can kick in doors - but that's rude? But fine, next time you're gonna lose your door.

[Peter slides in, all too familiar now with the routine of being side tracked by the puppers.] Happy uh, Easter?

[h2no]

I'm yet to see the evidence.

[he shakes his head, giving peter and the dogs room.]

Happy egg day. We don't have Easter back home, so I don't understand it. No offence.

[quickfingers]

None taken. I grew up Catholic and I still know shit all about it? Just lots of chocolate, reanimated corpses and some... rabbits.

[He squints.] And candles? Ah, the important shit's the candy.

[h2no]

Reanimated...

[sorry, are you saying something? archie's just staring, dumbfounded. reanimated corpses?]

[quickfingers]

Yeah? I mean, it sounded more miraculous back home but with people dusting off and walking around here after biting a bullet? Son of God's got some competition.

[He shrugs.] It's a weird holiday, man. The guy died horrifically and then came back to life, all "April Fool's!" And after that? Honestly, I don't know.

[h2no]

It's not that, it's just... nevermind.

[not the time to dig into the nuances of religion, however weird they may be. his religion was a fucking whale for a while, anyway.]

I'll just-- take the opportunity to binge on chocolate where I can.

[he gestures peter into the kitchen/living room combo.]

Just dump it anywhere. The Pokémon won't get to it.

[quickfingers]

[Peter nods, taking in the basket and giving one of the lil' bottles on a stick a spin once he sets it down.] I spiced up tradition with a little minibar action too, though.

Maximoff creation for the holidays, maybe I'll make drunk Easter an annual thing.

make me blind when your eyes close | wanda

[quickfingers]

[He might not have the two sisters he's used to having around for Easter, but he's still got a multiverse twin to enjoy it with. They didn't get to really have a Christmas together, so this day feels oddly important - even if it's not something he prepared for to any great extent. He's not into cooking; he's way too impatient to wait for anything in the oven, so he goes for the element of Easter he excels at: the candy.

As tempting as it'd be to do another brilliant network of candy mukbang to celebrate this year, Peter's instead funneling his efforts into gifts. And he may be overcompensating at that, mostly to distract himself from other holiday blues. So when he drops by to meet her, he's holding a massive basket of pretty much anything he thought she'd like. And it's a bit heavy.]

Easter delivery? Hope you're hungry.

sink when you get close, tie me to the bedpost | odin

[quickfingers]

[It's funny how it's only been a few weeks and things have been tossed into the air, scattered around and ground into the earth before they were all just put back where they belonged. Order restored to the world the second Odin was back into it and maybe that comes off a bit too co-dependent but Peter's been losing a lot of friends and family lately, things being rocky since December. And the upswing still feels shaky. He fell hard for his best friend again, and it took losing the bastard for a week to really tear open old wounds.

This apartment seemed so shallow and empty that week, missing a distinct touch. Which is ironic considering Odin hadn't properly moved in, didn't even yet have a key, but he just left such an impression anywhere he went. Something Peter took for granted and is so fucking relieved to feel in the air again. Rootbeer's cheered up herself, wagging her little tail from the chair like she knows Odin's due to come over.

That and she might just be amused watching Peter in the kitchen, trying to remember how to do the most basic of shit like boiling a pot of water. Does he salt it? That helps, right? He misses his mother, another thing he took for granted for far too long, but he stumbles through the steps. Just because he doesn't cook doesn't mean he can't. He's just usually too impatient to wait for things to bake or cook, too easily distracted from a preheating oven or sizzling pan. Steps and instructions are coming back to him, piece by piece.

Tonight's menu is simple. Pasta. The noodles hit the water with a splash and he hisses through his teeth, but turns to put the sauce on simmer. It's all very box and jar, but it's a change from take out. It's a dedicated effort to make tonight a little more... something. He's honestly already regretting it and really debating just tossing everything out - but instead he rolls up the sleeves of his plaid shirt and leans back against the counter to do the one thing he hates the most: wait.]

[shadowglitter]

[ Odin's always been, perhaps surprisingly, a rather decent cook. His parents are both notoriously pretty terrible at anything to do with the kitchen back home; his mom, bless her heart, would burn water if she tried to boil it, and his dad was as much of a trash compactor as Peter is today. A wandering swordsman who lived off the land, Lon'qu picked up some pretty terrible habits, willing to eat game all but raw and perfectly happy to just shove berries in his mouth and deal with the fallout later should it all go south. Odin's, uh... Odin's always been privately glad he learned a thing or two from the abigails he grew up with before he headed out into the world.

It took being ported out and ending the war to realize how much he missed the feel of the mess hall. Falling into a routine of fast food and microwavable grease monsters has been all well and good for Odin, who has managed to keep his physique in tact through an even more rigorous exercise routine than the one he kept back home, but man oh man. He misses treating the food he's making as if he were capturing the essence of his noble spirit and sharing it amongst his comrades. He misses the laughter and the miniature riots of the kitchen, the butting of heads and the arguing over ingredients. Cooking for an army is a bonding experience that he's never really had with Peter - too often they just swipe a bag of burgers and retreat to the couch.

It's why, when he finally gets back, climbs through the open window and finds Peter making midnight-pasta-before-it's-midnight, he's thrilled at the sight of it, shouting in his usual over-excited way at the top of his lungs as he bounds over. He's already lost the robes for something more casual and he's got a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, full of little things he's brought along with him to make the apartment feel even more like a home than it already does, which he drops on the floor along the way to the kitchen. He gives Rooty a pat and he swoops on Peter to take a kiss in passing, missing his mouth and pecking at the corner of his lips in his clumsy excitement to check out the stove, and then he's at the pot, bouncing on the balls of his feet and rolling up his sleeves. ]

What are-- oh, man! You made this?! You're making this?! No way! [ He's stirring the sauce and bouncing even faster, all kid in a candy store from head to toe. ] How-- how did you even-- when did you learn to-- I was literally just thinking about how I want to make, like, actual food with you one day! This is outstanding, this is-- this is just--

[ Odin's so excited that he's forgotten to actually say hello, so when he spins on his heels to look back at his boy, he's a little pink, even as he snakes back over for another kiss. ] I-- I. Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey hey hey. Hey.

[quickfingers]

[There's no scrapping dinner when he's caught in the act of making it, looking up to see Odin as he nearly trips his way through the window in a flurry of sudden excitement. It doesn't register at first that it's heightened on account of the food, though he does accept a messy kiss with his fingers lightly gripping Odin's shirt before he snorts and shakes his head.]

It's just pasta, it's not...

[There's another kiss going on and Peter straightens up and away from his lean on the counter for it, finding his hands always make their way onto Odin when in close proximity. Like letting go's not a feasible option, he needs to keep him near so he doesn't disappear again. He's been trying not to be clingy, so the kiss is gentle and calm - but does draw out a little, with Peter parting his lips and holding Odin close. At least until the pot starts spitting sauce around behind him. Immersion broken.]

Shit. I still gotta make garlic bread? But I think my timing's shit.

[shadowglitter]

[ Odin hasn't been great at avoiding the whole clingy thing - it's clear to him, at least, and probably to Peter, too, that porting out shook him a bit harder than he's been letting on. He's been waking up a lot more in the middle of the night, only able to lull himself back to bed by watching Peter sleep, taking in every soft breath and peaceful sigh, staying by his side until it gets too hot and he's rolled away. Things haven't been going incredibly easy, an undercurrent of what if it happens again always charged between the two of them, but Odin's sure he'll find even ground before too long. It's just hard not to message Peter every few minutes, rather than every ten, like before.

The kiss is still clumsy at first, with Odin still too excited about dinner and wanting to see Peter cook to give it the attention it deserves, but Peter drawing it out chips away at Odin's mood and brings him down to something a little more serious. Every touch between them becomes softer and more caring, with Odin resting his thumb over Peter's hip and his eyes fluttering shut, and he's just about to dart the tip of his tongue between them and take this deeper when he's cockblocked by garlic bread.

He pulls back and lets Peter go, breathing once through his nose. ] Our entire relationship is based on taking our time, so. That's okay. You want me to help? I'm good at making bread. I like kneading the dough? I get to pretend I'm a giant pummelling some evil general's fort. Behold, my righteous fists!, that kind of thing.

[ Or they could just keep making out and let the sauce burn, his expression clearly says. But. He tilts his head towards the pot, sighing. ] You better check it out.

[quickfingers]

[Peter breathes from the sliver of space between them and he's not so quick to let Odin go. He runs his hand up and down his boyfriend's side with a small cracked smile and no real idea how to bring up that his idea of garlic bread was more of the pre-made shit sitting in a box in the freezer. Frankly, he could kinda go for seeing Odin pummel some evil general dough? One day.

He pecks him on the nose before turning away, stretching to stir the sauce and turn down the heat on the stove.] We might have to skip the bread, everything else's kinda done? I think. It took for-fucking-ever?

D'you wanna eat at the table or take this shit to the TV? [Peter's not used to the formality of eating actual dinner at a table, feels like years since he did and it's been but a few months.]

uno numero

[accelerate]

[ regardless of how many drinks barry has, it still doesn't do anything to ease the sting of cisco's departure from this earth. he's had two beers, four shots, and he's onto next drink ... whatever that may be. since getting his speed, he's spent less time at bars and familiarising himself with the menu, and more at pizzerias and all-you-can-eat buffets. he looks to the man next to him, brows pulled together as he takes in the sight of the cocktail being outstretched before him. ]

[ to no one's surprise, he's taken it, and is currently glancing down at it. ] Is that a chocolate ball? [ if he sounds like he's in wonder — well, he is. maybe he should've started drowning his sorrows in chocolate instead of alcohol? peter, you're a fucking genius. ]

[ raising the glass. ] Happy Easter. If this tastes like shit, my heart's going to break.

[quickfingers]

Yeah - you eat any of those creme eggs before? They're good, but too many'll make you wanna puke. [Peter tips his head to the side, regarding the drink with a gentle shake. It looks about the same consistency as the gooey centers and he's both allured and repulsed. But hey, this is how you make friends and he pulls his own closer to give it a sniff.

He lifts his own glass, clinking it to Barry's after that.] Happy Easter, my good man. Let's hope the alcohol's strong in this one?

going to wildcard this!

[cleptes]

[Despite Maurtia Falls not being her proper home city anymore Bela finds herself there tonight, seeking out a friend. She's already lost a close friend to them being ported out a couple of weeks. What made it worse is that Bela finally told them how she felt and now she has to deal with not having them around anymore.

She hopes that Peter is in his apartment as Bela knocks on the door a few times to announce herself. It may have been wise to have sent him a quick text message first, but this was more of a spur of the moment type decision.

Sorry, Peter.]

[quickfingers]

[For a few seconds Peter thinks that maybe Odin locked himself out, but considering he went to hang with Leo and Lucina for a while - he hops over his sofa to go answer the door and find out who else could be waiting on his doorstep. He's been lazing around in yesterday's clothes, which thankfully aren't too wrinkled for when he opens the door and sees Bela; he smiles, raising his brows.]

Hey Bela. What's up? [He opens the door a little bit wider, letting Rootbeer bark and dart around their feet - happy for company.]

[cleptes]

[She returns the smile easily upon seeing Peter, not stepping inside the apartment until he invites her in. The dog is cute, and Bela is glad to see that the animal is friendly.]

Hey, Peter. I'm glad you're at home. [Reaching down to give Rootbeer a scratch behind the ears, she continues.] I just need someone to talk to and I know you are good at that. You listened to me back at the Christmas party, remember? I haven't forgotten it.

[Maybe he could help her again.]

[quickfingers]

Yeah, yeah - sure. Come in. [He opens the door wider, stepping aside and giving Rooty a little whistle to have her back up out of the way.]

Everything okay?

[cleptes]

Thanks. [Bela enters his house and turns around to face Peter to answer his question.]

Yeah, they are. Mostly. [She pauses.] Someone I was close to was ported out recently, and I've having a hard time dealing with it.

[quickfingers]

Oh, shit. I'm sorry. [He knows what that's like - too much so.

He swings the door shut and offers her a light, one armed hug.] You want coffee, something to drink? Sit anywhere you want, kick any of my crap aside.

[cleptes]

[The hug is definitely something that Bela could use and she gives her friend a grateful smile.]

Coffee would be just fine. [She moves to sit down on one the chairs.] Do you have any snacks? The more bad for me, the better.

[quickfingers]

I'll grab you some, get cozy.

[He slips away, making sweet use of some convoluted pod-using coffee maker he rarely uses himself. Joy. Then he opens a cabinet, grabbing down a few boxes.] You're asking me if I have snacks? Is water wet? I got pretty much anything you can think of, plus. This baby.

[Peter taps his knuckles against a hideous yet somehow compact device tucked in by his fridge.] All you can eat froyo. Crazy, right?