{ inbox } meadowlark

[nonscriptum]

@nathan.drake| ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

Comments

[wittingly]

lucky guy, with all that merch I bet he smells fucking fantastic

[nonscriptum]

You could say he's scent-sational.

[wittingly]

there are certain times in our relationship that I have to remind myself I love you
and then part of me goes, 'why?'
and then there's like some internal debate over the pros and cons, but ultimately what wins it is how many bags of groceries you can carry at once

you're riding a fine line drake

[nonscriptum]

I can carry a LOT of groceries. Like, a really impressive amount.

Either way I think I can hook you up with the brunette.

[wittingly]

and yet somehow you never smush the bread
like some kind of magic badass grocery wizard

yeah? you think you can get him to go out with me?

[nonscriptum]

I make sure it's on top so it stays fluffy, the way you like it.

How's tonight sound?

[wittingly]

i don't know, tonight's pretty booked
i guess i can reschedule binge watching Lost for the fourteenth time
what do you want for dinner?

[nonscriptum]

You've only watched it thirteen times? Amateur.

Breakfast for dinner?

[wittingly]

I'm sorry I can't live up to your impossible standards

pancakes or waffles

[nonscriptum]

:)

Which one is currently appealing to you? The surrealist unpredictability of pancakes, or the uniformity and equivalent syrup distribution of waffles?

[wittingly]

thank you for posing such an interesting philosophical quandary, the likes of which may bring insight to my very essence

syrup pockets.

[nonscriptum]

Waffles it is.

[ There are benefits to being where they are. Actual food instead of protein bar rations, for one. ]

Truly boggles the mind how you derive pleasure from the dough grid. If I find out you're privately doing mental math with them I'm breaking up with you.

[wittingly]

maybe I am, and no you're not :)
look man
it's a matter of practicality and efficiency
all of the waffle toppings are contained within the confines of the waffle
waffles are good engineering
pancakes are chaos
you just slap shit on them and pray

[nonscriptum]

Maybe I LIKE the chaos. Every bite is different. What's that over there? Could be more syrup. Could be butter. Could be preserves. It's always a surprise.

Waffle toppings are only contained so long as you maintain the structural integrity of each unit. As soon as the dam breaks you lose your syrup reservoir. Boom, a flood that you can't mop up with a waffle because they're not as spongy and absorbent as pancakes.

Check and mate.

[wittingly]

what kind of maniac doesn't consider the structural integrity of the waffle when he partitions off a bite with his fork

there are literally gridlines to go by

[nonscriptum]

The walls between units are too thin, bisecting one perfectly requires the dexterity of a heart surgeon. The risk of breaking your own syrup levees is too high when the alternative is having a lake of syrup you can dip your pancake in. Clearly the superior option.

[wittingly]

I'm sorry you have imprecise hamfists
Some of the rest of us have finesse

[nonscriptum]

Personal attacks are very unbecoming, Ian.

[wittingly]

Alright, alright, I'm sorry
imprecise non-dexterous regular fists

besides, there's a tactic
it's an easy artform to master
I'll teach you

[nonscriptum]

I would argue that I've proven on multiple occasions to be extremely dexterous, but fine.

You can finesse me over dinner.

[wittingly]

I'll finesse you after dinner too

[nonscriptum]

I'm counting on it.

See you soon?

[wittingly]

be careful
no mark david chapmans

[nonscriptum]

I'm always careful.

[ Says the man whose career was built out of reckless self-endangerment.

Ian has a point, though: Nate has been attacked before, veritable strangers in the street who knew his image and either didn't like it, or liked it too much. Stalkers have come with the territory and it's why Sam despises his baby brother's forays back into the Congregation, why Ian has every right to be concerned, and there's an entire mailbox he never looks at the contents of because early on he learned that some letters are better left unread.

The flat is private and of much higher living standards than a large majority of the Aerie, but he knows better than to take it for granted and getting to pass through the threshold of public eye to intimate eye always takes the tension out of his shoulders.

Nate drops his keys in the bowl, two-tone whistling his arrival down the hall. ]

[wittingly]

[ He says it like it's a joke, but it's really not. He's been around for some of the horror stories -- at least, the ones Nate's told him. Obviously he can handle himself, that's part of what he does for a living, but that doesn't make Ian any less worried.

He's in the kitchen, standing at the stove with a spatula in hand and flour on his shirt, the remains of measuring cups and spoons adorning the counter beside him because the man's precise as hell about his cooking. Music is playing because it always is, because Ian is predictable. ]

We don't want any.

[ Called out wryly, without abandoning the eggs. Classic dad joke, and why he has that trait when he isn't nor has he ever had a dad is beyond anyone's comprehension. ]