Anders (crazycatman) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-03-04 16:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, anders, tinkerbell |
Who: Anders and Tink
What: Anders shows off his new dream dress robe.
When: After this thread.
Where: Tink’s House
Rating: Low
Status: Complete
Anders was not expecting putting on his new robe to be as difficult as it was turning out to be. Why something needed this many buckles and straps was beyond him. And he didn’t understand the tassels that hung on his chest. The giant feathered shoulder pauldrons were weird, but once he had it on, he had to admit that they looked pretty awesome.
He put on the bracers, and checked himself in his mirror (was his hair okay? He redid the ponytail just to be safe) before he left his apartment, wishing that he had a full body mirror, but confident in the fact that he looked damn good in a dress.
He ignored the occasional look he got as he made his way to his car, and pretended that the old woman walking her tiny dog that was staring at him as he rang Tink’s doorbell didn’t exist.
Tink had been through a lot this week. Having to do all of this packing and sorting and donating was crazy. And having Neal help her was great. Actually, having Neal around was really good. She still cared about him, but those feelings were… softer. They’d faded. Which was good. She was worried things were going to be awkward or something, but they’d gone from relationship to not in such a way that they could be friends now. Which was cool.
Her bed was gone. Back at her apartment. She’d donated a lot of her furniture--as it was all crappy Ikea stuff, and the Old Man had better stuff--so tonight was her first full night at the new place. In the big bed. It was pretty exciting.
She’d just showered, dried, dressed in some pjs, and was organizing DVDs on the shelf when he knocked. She came to the door and pulled it open, then broke into a huge smile at the sight of him in his manly dress.
“Well, you were right about it being manly.” She beamed as she stepped aside to let him in. “...I kinda want to pet your shoulders.”
“Yes,” Anders said quietly, giving a bit of a fist pump. “I told you it was manly.” He gave her a big smile and leaned his shoulder a little towards her. “They’re very soft. Once I got over how weird it was that this thing showed up in bed with me overnight I may have touched it a few times.”
He eyed up her pyjamas. “Did you get any clothes from your dream world?” He hoped she had. It would only be half as fun if he was the only one wearing the weird get-ups.
“Only a few times?” Tink asked, grinning. She reached a hand up and ran it over the feathers, petting his shoulder. ...was this awkward? She didn’t feel all that awkward. But it was nice. (Actually she liked being close to him kinda no matter the cause. Stop thinking like that, Tink.)
“Oh, no,” Tink said shyly after catching him eyeing her pajamas. Now she was thankful she’d put the bra on underneath. “If I had, they’d be like, six inches tall, anyway. And made out of leaves, so. Fragile. But maybe some day?” She closed the door behind him and turned to lead the way into the living room. “I ordered pizza. It’ll be here soon.”
“Only a few times,” Anders confirmed. “I ended up putting it away after that first morning.” Granted, he had given it a bit of a pet any time he grabbed a shirt. He smiled at her as stroked pet his shoulder, enjoying the contact. “I didn’t realize feathers could be this soft,” he said. “Or this fashionable.”
“Made out of leaves actually sounds super cool,” he said. The six inches tall part probably wouldn’t cut it though. “I hope that someday you get a full-sized outfit. Hopefully not fragile either.
“I can’t wait for pizza,” he added. “I’m starved.”
"Sometimes I wish I had feathery wings instead of like, dragon-fly ones." Tink admitted, giving it one last pet before they headed into the living room.
"Maybe some day?" Tink said, sounding hopeful. She turned around to face him. "My leaf dress doesn't leave a whole lot to the imagination. It'd probably get cold.” She cleared her throat.
“It should be here soon? I ordered it like, half an hour ago. Anyway, what do you want to watch while we wait? I've got Netflix, too." She motioned to the DVDs on the shelf.
“I like your wings,” Anders said. “They’re beautiful.” He followed her into the living room.
“Don’t leave much to the imagination, huh? Well-” he stopped himself from saying that he could think of worse things. “Well. I’m sure it’s very nice. I bet it would be nice and comfortable in the summer.”
“I mostly watch documentaries,” Anders said. Well, documentaries and rom-coms. She didn’t need to know that though. “I don’t know if you’re into documentaries. There were a couple I saw on Netflix earlier that seemed interesting. ‘Living on One Dollar’ or ‘Secret State of North Korea.’” He paused. “Or we could watch The Princess Bride.” He’d only seen it about a dozen times. It was one of his favourites.
Thankfully, Tink wasn’t facing him when he said her wings were beautiful. She’d already turned her head. Her cheeks went very pink, and she smiled bashfully. Why was it he made her feel so… good? Cherished, almost, in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. She tried to suppress it, though it kept bubbling back up.
“I didn’t spend much time in the Winter Woods, though my sister Peri grew up there. I’m definitely a Spring/Summer/Autumn fairy.” She gave him a smile. Her cheeks were still a little pink, but she wasn’t thinking about that now. “Hey, I can do documentaries.”
She stepped over to the dvd shelf and pulled two titles off the shelf. “I’ve got King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters and Exit Through the Gift Shop. But we could watch Mythbusters, too.” Or they could… y’know… talk? Make out? Whatever. Tink wasn’t picky.
She liked the look of him in his manly dress.
“Your woods only had one season?” Anders asked. “I’d say that sounds boring, but I guess California doesn’t really cycle through the conventional seasons either.”
Anders didn’t really do video games, so he barely gave that a second glance. But “Oh hey, I’d be down for watching a movie about Banksy,” he said. He’d certainly be up for just chatting, and he liked the idea of making out, but he definitely wasn’t about to suggest they did the latter.
Just after he responded, the doorbell rang. Thank God. Tink’s stomach was grumbling. She’d have to remember to tell him about Pixie Hollow another time.
“Okay.” Tink held out the case to him, then put the other back on the shelf. “I’ll go grab the pizza, you put on the movie?” The set-up at the new house was pretty spectacular; she’d kept all of the Old Man’s best tech, and brought all of her own over from her apartment. He had a bigger television than she had, and a pretty good sound system. (She was going to make it better with a little tinkering.) She had the blu-ray player, and every video game system known to man. It was all crammed into the entertainment center, but in an orderly fashion.
Tink hopped up and over to answer the door, sign for the pizza, thank the delivery man, then came back a couple minutes later with two warm boxes. She set them down on the coffee table.
“Great,” Anders said when the doorbell rang. He grabbed the DVD and headed over to the television. Then he stopped and stared. He wasn’t exactly sure which system was the one that was for DVDs. “Hey Tink, which one of these do I use?” he asked.
Apparently, Tink really liked video games. Anders smiled a little at it. It was endearing for some reason, even if he had only ever played Super Smash Brothers a couple of times in college.
“Uh… the black one!” She called out from the door as she was signing the receipt. Only, a couple of the machines in the entertainment center under the television were black. (And two of them were held together with black electrical tape.) When she came back into the room, though, she could take over the putting on of the movie.
Well, that narrowed things down. He picked what he assumed was the appropriate machine, and put the DVD in it. Then he sat down on the couch. This was a pretty nice set up. He hadn’t watched anything on a TV this size in a long time.
“What kind of pizza did you end up getting?” Anders asked when he was sure she was done with the pizza man.
She hadn’t set up her metal basket pulley system in this house yet, to hold remotes and the like, and she wasn’t sure it would work with the decor. Honestly, maybe it was time to grow up and give up the metal baskets hanging from the ceiling holding all of the things she could possibly need. So she had remotes on the endtable instead. But they didn’t need them, as the movie started to play automatically.
“Spinach and Feta.” Tink said, plopping down next to him on the sofa. She was close enough that she could feel his warmth, but not so close they were touching. The sofa was big enough she didn’t have to be so near, but she wanted to.
Tink leaned forward, rolling up her sleeves. “And Hawaiian.” She grinned, opening both boxes to show off the pizzas inside. “I like the pineapple.”
He smiled when she mentioned spinach and feta. “It really is the best pizza,” he said. “You have to try a slice if you haven’t before.”
And then she mentioned Hawaiian. “No one likes pineapple on pizza,” he scoffed. Pause. “I mean, except for me. Hawaiian pizza is definitely one of the better pizzas out there.” Not that there were any bad pizzas. He grabbed a slice of the spinach and feta pizza.
“I’ll absolutely try a slice. It’s your favorite, right? It can’t be bad.” She reached for a piece of the spinach and feta, then laughed. “...you don’t have to pretend to like it. I’ll just keep the Hawaiian all to myself.” She nudged her shoulder against his, playfully, then leaned back against the sofa with her slice.
Hope he wasn’t expecting plates or napkins or anything. Tink hadn’t planned on those at all.
“This is good,” she said, approvingly, after chewing.
Anders laughed. “No, no, I’m not pretending to like it at all, cross my heart,” he said. “It’s actually the pizza I order when they don’t have spinach and feta on the menu. Half the people I order pizza with hate it though.”
He shot her a cocky grin. “See, spinach and feta is delicious, my dress is very masculine and sexy. You should just never doubt anything that comes out of my mouth again.”
"Really? I mean, that's how people react when I order it, too. I normally have to get my own pizza. My brothers think I'm nuts." Tink couldn't help the grin from pulling at her lips. She took another bite and chewed, trying not to talk with her mouth full. But it was really delicious. She wasn't paying any attention to the television anymore. "We'll just have to get pizza together every time now. So we're not bothering other people."
And then she laughed. "Excellent advice. I will never doubt again. Scout's honor." She even held up the Boy Scout hand sign. Or was it the Girl Scout hand sign? Whatever it was, she held it up for a moment. Then folded one leg over the other and stared at him in his masculine dress for a moment.
"Can I ask you a question?"
“That sounds like a great idea,” Anders agreed. “Pizza dates all the time.”
Anders a bite of his pizza, and, aware that she was looking at him, attempted to look dashing. Given that he he was still attached to the piece of pizza by cheese strings, he was sure he didn’t do a very good job of it. Once he severed the cheese and swallowed his pizza, he nodded. “Go ahead,” he said.
There was that word again. Dates. Tink tried her best not to think too hard on it. It was just a word. It just meant… people together. Nothing romantic. It was just something people said.
She thought he looked very dashing. And goofy. It was charming. Damnit.
“How did you get to be so perfect?” The moment she asked it, she realized it was a really stupid thing to say. She flushed. “I mean, you’ve been so kind and generous with your time, and uh… any other guy--any other person--if I fell over them in the park... would be running the opposite direction, but you stuck around. Why?”
Anders didn’t blush too often, but he could definitely feel his cheeks starting to get warm. “Years of practice,” he said. “You know, hard work and dedication and then perfection.” He grinned to show he was only laughing, but the grin faded pretty quickly. “In all honesty, I’m not even close to perfect. I’ve made some pretty big… mistakes.” Mistakes didn’t seem like the right word. Mistakes seemed to cheapen it. “But it doesn’t take perfection to want to help someone. You seemed like you needed help that night, so I helped, and, well, I thought you were great so I hung around.”
He thought she was great? That made warmth spread in her chest. Tink lifted her hands to tuck flyaways behind her ears in a shy way. "Well, I appreciate it. Not many people think I'm great. Some do, obviously, like my sister and stuff, but they kinda have to. You didn't have to. So thank you for that. God, this is lame, nevermind." She cleared her throat, feeling ridiculous and embarrassed. "How about a drink? I think I need a drink."
“Anyone who doesn’t think you’re great is wrong. And probably blind. You’re kind, and smart, and beautiful. I don’t know what’s not great about that.”
Oh. Dammit. He was doing it again. He also cleared his throat. “I could do with a drink,” he said.
"Thank you," Tink responded shyly. She couldn't seem to meet his eye.
A drink would help. A Drink would be even better. Tink stood, trying to hide how his words made her feel, and started toward the kitchen. "I stocked up on beer and hard cider," she explained. "But I've got soda and stuff, too. What would you like?"
“I’m okay with cider or soda,” he said.
He wondered if it was time to have a talk to Tink about all of this. Ignoring it clearly wasn’t making it go away like he had secretly hoped. There was more than one night where he had had trouble falling asleep because he was thinking of her. But he didn’t want to hurt her, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to go about the whole ‘oh man, I really really like you but I’m really not that great of a guy’ conversation.
He turned his head toward the television, though instead of paying attention to the movie (who was that French dude with the family?), he mulled over the problem.
Tink took a moment in the kitchen. He couldn’t see her from the sofa (there was a wall in the way) but she was leaning against the counter, taking deep breaths. Her heart was beating really fast. She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or nerves, or what. Maybe she’d just felt lonely for too long. Maybe she was confused, and was latching onto the first kind and handsome face to help her out.
Or maybe she was starting to feel something real for this guy.
A minute later she was headed back into the living room with a couple of hard ciders. She sat down and passed one over. “So, you’re a Banksy fan?”
“Thanks,” Anders said when he grabbed it. Oh good, a change of topic. He could mull over the pros and cons of talking about feelings later.
“Yeah, I respect the guy’s work,” Anders said. “Street artists in general make statements about consumerism and how we’re bombarded with advertisements everywhere we look, but Banksy tends to make some pretty clear political messages, which I can really get behind. There’s something really admirable about a guy who can get people to talk about problems in a peaceful way. Actually, just a couple of days ago he hit the Gaza strip. It’s amazing how many people have already forgotten about Gaza war last summer, but he’s bringing it back into discussion. With kitties.” Okay, so, maybe Anders had a bit of a crush on Banksy.
Tink didn’t really do the art thing. Not really. She knew of artists, sometimes, and of their work, but it wasn’t where her passions lay. Lie? Lay? Her brother had given her the DVD because he’d gone to some art gallery thing in Los Angeles and he wanted to share it with her. But Tink was far more interested in like, computers, and inventing, and building. She kinda ignored a lot of other things because she was so focused.
But she loved hearing Anders talk about something he was obviously passionate about. She had a dazed look in her eye as she listened to him. It made her smile almost dreamily. “Always bringing it back to kitties,” she observed happily. “You and your cats. You really think I should get one?”
Really, Anders wasn’t that interested in just plain old art. It wasn’t a craft he had ever learned, and he wasn’t that interested in learning about it too much. But art that made a statement, art that was out there to try to change the world was definitely more his speed. That was the type of thing that he was into.
Anders laughed. “It’s not my fault that Banksy broke into Gaza through a series of illegal tunnels and painted a cat.” His eyes lit up when she asked about getting a cat. “Oh yes, absolutely. A little tabby. Or an older cat. I mean, kittens are adorable, but older cats need homes too. Everyone should have a pet, and cats just happen to be the best pet a person can have.”
“Kittens turn into cats, so… it’s all the same getting an older one?” Tink offered. She wasn’t really into animals, either. Her father was allergic. But she didn’t have any allergies, and thought it might be fun to have a little companion running around the place. Preferably one who could mostly take care of him- or herself. “Why a tabby?” She asked, working diligently on her cider. It was starting to make her feel warm and fuzzy inside.
“Exactly,” Anders said. “And kittens can be a handful. They tend to run around your feet and they claw more than older cats, and then sometimes they just pounce out of the corner when you’re not expecting it.” The fact that Anders found that adorable was apparent in his tone of voice, but he knew for some people, kittens were a little too much energy. “And tabbies because they’re obviously the cutest of cats. They’re like little tigers.” Sir Pounce-A-Lot was a tabby. Mr. Wiggums from his dreams had been a tabby too, before he had been possessed by a rage demon and was turned into a giant flaming creature of terror. The demon from his Harrowing had turned itself into a tabby too.
“If you’d like, I can go with you to the humane society. I mean, if you decide to get a cat. You should though.”
“Are older cats playful, too?” Tink asked. Not having grown up with a cat in the house, she wasn’t certain about these kinds of things. “God, I know nothing about them. Besides that they’re awesome and they eat cat food. But I could install a cat door in the back door, and I’ve always wanted to test out those collar things that only let the cat through that’s wearing one?” Oh, if there was something to tinker, Tink would find it.
She gave him a warm smile. There was obvious affection in her eyes. If Anders looked there he’d likely see it. “You want to? We can definitely go together. I mean, I need the opinion of someone who knows what he’s talking about. Obviously.”
“It depends on the cat, but most of them are pretty playful. And cat toys are so cheap. You just need a string and a piece of paper, or the rings from milk jugs, or a laser pointer and they’ll be entertained for hours.” He frowned thoughtfully for a moment. “Well, I wouldn’t recommend those collars, unless you’re willing to have a snap away one that can be lost. Cats tend to squeeze into tight spaces, and if their collar doesn’t snap away easily, they can get stuck.” Or killed, depending where their collar got stuck. “Oh. But maybe you could put some sort of GPS tracker in the collar too so if it does snap off you can find it!”
He grinned. “Of course I’d love to go. I’d get to see and play with all the kitties and I could definitely help you find the perfect cat.” He was mostly looking forward to playing with all the kitties.
Tink nodded. She’d have to spend some time with cats. To figure it all out. And she was already designing awesome cat toys in her inventor’s brain. “Laser pointer, you say?” She asked, breaking into a conspiratory grin. “I can handle that.”
She had designed a more powerful laser when she was a teenager. And it was awesome.
“Maybe once more of these boxes are out of here,” she added, then finished the last of her cider. She was mostly looking forward to spending time with him, but playing with the kitties came in a close second.
“Yep. They go nuts for laser pointers. Put it on the wall and they’ll try to jump up the wall. It’s just the cutest little thing.”
He laughed at her mentioning that she should get rid of the boxes first. “I don’t know,” he said. “Cats also love boxes. I once had Sir Pounce-A-Lot try to lay down in the box that my cellphone came in. He could barely fit all four paws in, but he tried to pretend that he was comfortable.” He paused. “Then again, you might lose your cat, so maybe it’d be better to get rid of most of them.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” Tink beamed, imagining a cute cat jumping up onto a wall after a red dot of a laser pointer. She leaned back against the sofa, her shoulder brushing his. “...I have to get one. I want some company.” Her machines weren’t quite enough. How cool would it be to have a little, warm, furry friend? Like Cheese. But bigger. (Well, smaller, in relation to her, anyway.)
“Yeah,” she sighed, looking around at all the boxes she had left to unpack, thinking of the stacks of them in the bedroom, the office, the spare bedroom, the other spare bedroom… the garage. God, it was gonna be a lot of work. She frowned. “I’ve got too much stuff to do and not enough time.”
Anders moved his arm out of the way and went to put it around Tink’s shoulders, hoping she wouldn’t mind too much. “That’s the best part of cats. They always know when you’re lonely, and they always choose those times to cuddle the most.” If he hadn’t had Sir Pounce-A-Lot this last year since he moved back to the States, he wasn’t entirely sure what he would have done. Or Mr Wiggums in the year he spent in solitary confinement in his dream land.
“You know I’m happy to help whenever I can.” He was still working a lot at the clinic and the hospital, and he had recently agreed to do some extra work on the side for Leliana, but he would always find a way to make a little extra time for Tink. “Whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed, I’ll come by and help out. Maybe bring a pizza with me.”
Tink didn’t mind. Not in the slightest. She leaned against him a little, then a little more, slowly over a few minutes becoming more and more comfortable cuddled against his side. He was warm and strong, and okay the feathers on his shoulder thingy were different, but not bad. It’d been a while since Tink had had someone like this--someone to be close to in a way that wasn’t just a friendly hug or brotherly hair ruffle. It felt like something a little more, and it made her both excited and relaxed at the same time.
“Then a cat sounds perfect.” Tink responded. She closed her eyes, even though they were supposed to be watching the end of the movie. (She’d tuned out ages ago, anyway.) “You’re amazing. I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” She’d have to take him flying again. Maybe for a longer trip this time, she thought as she yawned.
Anders had also stopped paying attention to the movie too, and was super confused. He was pretty sure it had taken a completely different route than what he had been expecting to happen. As she leaned into him he got a little more comfortable.
“You’re pretty amazing too,” he said, and without thinking about it much, he gave her a light kiss on the top of her head. “There’s really no need to thank me.”
“Still,” Tink said, shifting just a little. She turned her head slightly, her cheek resting against his collarbone. God, he was comfortable. It wasn’t fair. And it meant that her feels weren’t going away anytime soon. She was torn between wanting to snuff them out, wanting to stoke them, and being suddenly exhausted. She felt warm, snug, and perfectly content. Full of pizza and a bottle of hard cider, it wouldn’t be long before she fell asleep. Her breathing slowed. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Tink,” Anders said. He went to stroke her hair absentmindedly as she turned her head. He hadn’t been very sleepy before, but there was something about being snuggled up with an adorably sleepy girl that made him yawn. This was nice. He hadn’t been close to someone like this in over a year. Well, unless one was to count Sir Pounce-A-Lot, who often cuddled up on Anders’ chest and got his fur stroked. She felt right against him somehow, and part of him knew he should stop this. But they were just friends, and friends sometimes cuddled. So he leaned his head back against the back of the couch, and enjoyed the sensation of Tink breathing softly against his chest.
There was definitely no way he would fall asleep like this. He’d just sit quietly for a little while, maybe rest his eyes for just a minute or two, and then quietly leave. For sure. Really.