#THEY GAVE US BROWN “CHOCOLATE SAUCE” AND IT WAS. WELL. TO BE FAIR IT HAD THE CONSISTENCY OF THE SYMBIOTES FROM VENOM AND YOU COULD DRAG IT

[elliestormfound]

Witcher Secret Santa

Dear @linx1457

this is your secret Santa! I wish you merry christmas and hope you enjoy your gift!

@thewitchersecretsanta

Geralt/Jaskier modern au, roommates, mutual pining, 1854 words

CW: none, just fluff and pinging with a happy end

read on ao3

--------- “I told you not to go in my room and I told you not to touch my stuff,” Geralt said, looking at his new roommate.

Geralt worked as a tour guide for the local national park. During the colder months less tourists visited and his wage hardly covered his rent. His brother Lambert had suggested he take on a roommate and posted an ad for him in the local newspaper. 

But most of the people that had answered the ad had been weird or downright creepy and he had lost all hope till a musician called. Jaskier - that was his name - was new in town and wanted to gain a foothold in the big city. He needed to stay somewhere cheap for a couple of months till he could afford his own apartment. 

Geralt had invited him over and even though he had not been sure if someone so outgoing would clash with his more reserved nature, he had somehow been convinced that it would work out.

But now he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Who even has real steel swords?” Jaskier asked, “I thought they were cheap imitations from the ren faire…” They were standing in Geralt’s room where his two heavy swords had crashed down from where they were supposed to hang on the wall.

“They are from an actual blacksmith,” Geralt said through gritted teeth, and more quietly, “from the ren faire.”

Jaskier laughed, “so I was right!”

“That is not the point!” Geralt growled and bent down to pick them up.

---------

It had been the 18th ad he had called for a room and when the man with the gravelly voice answered, Jaskier had been instantly smitten. And when the man with the deep voice turned out to be illegally handsome and accepted him as a roommate the musician was in heaven.

And at the same time he knew that it was a bad idea to pine after someone you lived with. He had experience with that. Bad experience.

So he tried his best to keep his yearning under control. But on some days it was particularly hard. Like today with the swords. 

Jaskier knew he shouldn’t go into Geralt’s room, but he had lost the charger of his phone. So he snuck in when Geralt was at work. His eyes had been caught by the reflection on the blades of the swords on Geralt’s wall. 

When he had first saw them after he moved in he had been a bit concerned - who the fuck had swords??? But Geralt had told him that he used to work as a stunt choreographer for sword fighting.

Jaskier had walked over and brushed along the blade with his index finger. And the fucking swords had fallen to the ground with a loud crash. In the exact moment Geralt had returned from work.

After Geralt chided him, Jaskier grabbed one of the swords to occupy his shaking hands and the adonis that was his roommate had the audacity to stand very close behind him and take his hand in the most tender way and fucking breathe on his neck. 

He knew that he couldn’t have stopped himself from kissing the bastard and pushing him on the bed if he had stayed a moment longer, so he made some shady excuse and practically ran into his room to play some music to calm down. 

----------

Over the last few weeks Geralt got used to living with Jaskier. He would never admit it out loud but it was actually very nice that someone was there when he came home from work. He especially loved the days when Jaskier cooked. Opening the door to their apartment and being greeted by the delicious smell of lasagna was something he could get used to.

“I’m home,” he called down the hallway and suppressed a smile when Jaskier answered, “then get in the kitchen, darling, dinner is almost ready.”

After he had put away his jacket and boots he walked over and stopped in the doorframe to take in the kitchen. Jaskier was a great cook - his food always tasted fucking amazing. But the utter chaos he left in his wake was honestly impressive. Dirty pots and pans were stacked in the sink, little red spots of (hopefully) tomato sauce decorated the tiles behind the stove and at least five different packages of spices stood open on the counter. 

Geralt sighed quietly but knew that the lasagna would be worth the clean up later.

---------

Jaskier’s mother had told him that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. So he occasionally cooked for Geralt. 

Of course he didn’t cook FOR Geralt. He cooked for himself and made too much so Geralt could eat with him. At least that is what he told his roommate. Today it was lasagna. 

He smiled when he heard the key turn in the lock and Geralt calling out that he was home. He yelled, “then get in the kitchen, darling.” It had been funny to watch Geralt’s reactions to his frequent use of pet names. Jaskier had reassured him that he did that with every one of his friends, but to be honest, at least to himself - darling was reserved only for Geralt. 

“How was your day?” he asked, as his roommate stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Jaskier had just put the parmesan on the lasagna and made sure to angle his ass in the perfect line of sight for Geralt as he bent forward to put the lasagna in the oven. 

He smirked as he stood back up and turned around to find Geralt blushing. He cleared his throat before he said, “good, not many tourists in the park today. I gave a tour to a family and cleaned some garbage that campers had left behind.”

Jaskier smiled and said, “and then you come home to this?” He turned around and looked at the mess he had created.

“At least I get dinner here,” Geralt replied and walked over to the cupboard to get out plates. He set the table and sat down to watch Jaskier pour two glasses of red wine. 

Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed from the cooking and his brown hair was tousled. On the apron he was wearing ‘KISS THE COOK’ stood in bold letters. Geralt had to shake his head because his roommate looked very kissable right now. 

---------

“Fuck,” Geralt said as he hit the TV. There was only a static noise and a corresponding image that was not unlike the view of the snowstorm outside. No matter to which channel he switched, the results were the same. 

“What are you ranting about, darling?” Jaskier asked as he walked into their living room. He was wearing one of Geralt’s hoodies and his own ridiculous pyjama bottoms. At least he had told Geralt they were pyjama bottoms, but they actually were illegally tight fitting booty shorts that had “flower twink” written on the ass.

“There will be no movie night today,” Geralt said, hitting the offending electrical device for one more time, “the fucking snowstorm has cut off the tv.”

Jaskier moaned sadly and pouted expertly. It was not only pursed lips. It was a full body pout with furrowed brows, round puppy eyes first looking down and then slowly up through his lashes, shoulders hunched forward, arms hanging limply down by his sides and one foot drawing circles with his toes in the soft carpet. 

Geralt believed that his roommate secretly practised this and he had to admit in the privacy of his own mind that it worked every damn time on him. But sadly this time he couldn’t do anything about it. 

But then Jaskier’s face lit up with a smile and he said, “Geralt, I have an idea -” Geralt groaned quietly because Jaskier’s ‘ideas’ rarely ended well, but his roommate ignored his nonverbal protests, “- do you remember when I went to the flea market the other day? I bought an old VHS recorder and a video cassette.”

“Why the fuck did you buy that?” Geralt asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Be thankful, Geralt, it will save movie night!” Jaskier called as he turned on his heel in search of the old recorder.

-----

It did not save movie night. The video recorder did in fact work, which wasn’t short of a miracle for that old thing, but the video cassette Jaskier had bought with it was not a movie. 

“How could I have known that ‘fireplace romance’ is not a movie?” Jaskier said, eyeing the case.

“You could have read the description,” Geralt grumbled as he looked at the tv screen that showed a fireplace with a delightfully burning fire and nothing more. For four hours. 

Jaskier sat down on the couch that was facing the tv and patted the space next to him.

“Come on, it’s better than nothing!”

Before putting the tape in the recorder they had set up everything for movie night: popcorn, hot chocolates with the tiny marshmallows swimming in them and a bowl of gummy bears. 

-----------

They had sat like this for a while, talking about work and Jaskier’s next gig in a coffee shop around the corner. Somehow, without Geralt noticing him moving, Jaskier had come closer to him and was now pressed to his side. It felt good.

Jaskier took a sip of his hot chocolate and turned to his roommate.

“Geralt, what do you think about…” but he stopped as he saw Geralt smirking and looking at his lips.

“What?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

Geralt cocked his head and said quietly in his deep voice, “you have something on your lip.”

Jaskier frowned and asked, “where?”

Geralt gestured for his own lip and Jaskier tried to imitate him, but he missed the spot of chocolate. 

“Can you help me?” he asked, leaning a bit closer to him.

Geralt’s mouth was suddenly dry and he swallowed. Jaskier’s face was so close to his now that he could see all the tiny freckles that had faded during winter, but were still visible up close. He blinked and finally reached over. 

Gently he placed his palm on Jaskier’s hot cheek and felt him leaning slightly into the touch. Slowly he stroked his thumb over Jaskier’s lower lip to remove the chocolate that clung to it.

He could feel Jaskier breathing in deeper right before he opened his mouth just a bit and Geralt could feel his warm breath on his thumb. 

A heartbeat later Geralt threw all restraint and explanations why he shouldn’t do it overboard, and said in a hoarse whisper, “I really...i really want to kiss you right now.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened before a soft smile played over his lips.

Jaskier leaned forward to close the gap between them and kissed him. In that moment Geralt couldn’t remember why he had been convinced that kissing Jaskier was a bad idea because it was the best thing he had ever felt.

The kiss started slow and soft, almost chaste but when Geralt wanted to lean back he felt Jaskier’s hand in his hair, pulling him back into the kiss.

[vampiric-daydreams]

Inkling

Jasper x Reader

This is Part 2 of the Jasper miniseries. Here is Part 1.

Summary: After the negative events of the last few weeks, Alice offers an explanation that just doesn’t seem to add up. You believe there is more to the mysterious family that meets the eye.

Word Count: 2,540

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @eggmettcullen @scuzmunkie @xcharlottemikaelsonx @oi-itsemily @cacti-succulents-andlesbians @aw0kenangel

A/N: There’s less Jasper in this chapter because a few things needed to happen in this part to keep the ball rolling. As the series progresses, the prerogatives of the Cullens will make more sense.

*

The buzzing chatter surrounding you broke the silence as you sat alone in a local café. It had been raining all day, and the people of Forks sought the solace of a sweet hot chocolate. You shifted in discomfort. Your socks were moist with dirty water you’d collected from splashing through a large puddle on your way in; and the pouring rain made your sleeves cling to your arms. You sat shivering at a corner table, goose bumps scattered across your exposed skin. The welcoming scent of coffee beans comforted you as you waited for your own hot drink to arrive.

A glare from a boy studying on the table beside you caused you to stop fidgeting with the sugar stick between your fingers. “Can you stop tapping?” he asked.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. You put the stick of sugar back in its place and took a deep, steady breath. You rarely met strangers, but lately you’ve been in a weird head space. An anonymous note in your locker had brought you here, requesting a meeting.

“Here you go,” the waitress said as she placed your scalding drink in front of you, the steam swirling from its surface. “And sorry for the wait. It’s always crazy here on these stormy days.”

“Thank you.” You weren’t in the mood for small talk right now. On top of this mystery meeting, you had gotten nowhere with the Cullen stuff. Everything had gone back to normal at school. No glares. No staring. No interacting of any kind. So, when Alice Cullen herself strutted through the door and straight towards you, the shock nearly knocked you over.

Her heeled boots clicked on the wooden floor. Stylishly dressed in an all-black ensemble with a trendy overcoat and a navy-blue scarf; her designer bag hung lavishly from the back of her chair as she slid into her place across from you. She smiled. “Thank you for coming, (Y/N).”

“What- seriously?” It came out louder than you intended, and the boy at the neighbouring table glared at you a second time. You whispered harshly, “I thought you guys were happy pretending I didn’t exist. Or do you have a new assumption to harass me about?”

Alice’s perfectly arched eyebrows formed a frown. “Actually, I came to apologise for our behaviour. Can I buy you a toasted sandwich or something?”

You scoffed. “A toasted sandwich won’t change my mind. What the hell was all of that? Actually, no. Never mind. I’ve been banned from talking to any of you, so I should leave.” Without letting it cool, you sculled your drink. The heat burned your throat as you tried not to wince. You couldn’t make a fool of yourself in front of a Cullen. Not again. You grabbed your phone and your keys and pushed your chair back.

“(Y/N), please. You deserve an explanation for everything.”

“Damn right I do!”

“Please sit and give me a chance to give you that. You’re welcome to leave, but please at least let me start?”

You plopped back down in your chair like a grumpy child and slouched. “Fine. Start.”

“Jasper was the first to notice. He noticed not long after the school year had started, but he mentioned nothing to us. Not that he needed to, he had no intentions - no offence.” You rolled your eyes. She swallowed. “But when Edward saw the way you looked at Jasper, he put it together. He’s gifted at reading people, and he felt you were getting too attached–”

“That was no-one’s assessment to make.” Your tongue still burned from your drink.

Alice nodded. “You’re right. It wasn’t. But Edward sees things in people… Often his own opinions and ideals surrounding certain topics will cloud his judgement. He mentioned his interpretation to Emmett in passing, who repeated it to Rosalie with different details. By the time I’d heard any of it, it sounded like you were plotting to separate us, which was why I was upset. I’m sorry, (Y/N). If I had known you had no intentions of actually breaking us up, I would have made them stop. No, I should have made them stop regardless of what I thought. Being a family for so long, we’re protective of each other. But I shouldn’t have let it reach the point that it did.”

The sugar stick once again found its way to your fingers as you stared at the girl in front of you. “Why are you telling me this?” It just didn’t sound right, despite Alice’s insistence. 

“Because I’ve seen how hurt you were by it, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself or believe you’re not worthy of receiving love. We behaved like a bunch of callous bullies. We’re sorry and so is Jasper.” A hard prick stabbed at your chest.

“It’s whatever. There isn’t anything we can do about it now. What’s done is done, right?”

“Jasper wanted to come and apologise to you in person, but he was afraid. He’s quite empathetic, which is why he couldn’t bear to talk to you yet. Even Edward-”

Edward. “He was right, in a way. While I had no intention to do something that would hurt you or make Jasper leave you, I certainly thought about what it would be like if he was mine. It just seems like a big jump to make.” Alice’s brown eyes twitched as they widened. “He assumed I thought about something and then launched into action against me–and you say he’s good at reading people? It just all seems a little weird.”

“Yes, our parents had a word with Edward about jumping to conclusions like that. He just didn’t want to see me get hurt. Jasper in particular feels terrible about how he handled everything.” You feigned interest as she tried to deflect your attention with Jasper’s name. “He thought reminding you of his love for me would make you change your mind about him, and when that didn’t work his first instinct was to shut you out. This should be coming from him, not me, but please understand that he regrets how his behaviour translated. And (Y/N), we all want to apologise to you. You’re allowed to talk to us, you know. We don’t bite. And the others are too ashamed to speak to you themselves without being approached first. Will you give us a chance to make it right?”

If you were ever getting a shot at finding out what they were hiding, this was it. 

You smiled sweetly, “I’d prefer it much better if we did that.”

Alice returned your smile, her kohl-lined eyes lighting up. “Remember, there’s no rush. After what happened, you don’t owe us anything. Take as long as you need.”

You nodded your head. “I will.”

 *

 For the first time in weeks, you arrived at school with a smile and something to look forward to. From the moment you entered the campus, you took the precaution to not actively think about your intention to dig deeper. It still seemed ridiculous, and you were sure you’d be cringing at yourself later on–but the circumstances were just too weird to you.

You spent the better half of the morning surrounded by your friend group, not ready to branch out and find the Cullens just yet. If they were as sorry as Alice had made them sound, they could stew in it for a while longer. You had already planned which order you intended to approach them in, too. Emmett would be first, as he seemed the least threatening. Next was Rosalie, and lastly Edward, who was the root cause of all of this.

You weren’t ready to go anywhere near Jasper.

The bell rang, and your group said their goodbyes as they went to their lockers. You fumbled with the combination lock on yours and gritted your teeth when it wouldn’t open. “Pretty sure the code hasn’t changed since yesterday,” a deep voice sounded from your right. Emmett. This was wrong; it was supposed to be you approaching them.

“Well I’ve had a rough few weeks.” You shot back. His wide smile faltered for a moment before shrinking away.

“I’m sorry about my contribution to that.” He spoke softer than usual. His eyes were the same warm gold as Jasper’s. Were they biologically related? Wait. No thoughts on campus.

“Yeah, the entire thing really sucked for me.”

“I didn’t want you to feel the way you did. I knew it wasn’t right. That excuses nothing, but I don’t want any bad blood between us. I’m really not that kind of guy.” His expression seemed genuine.

“You could have fooled me.” It came out before you could stop it. “Wait, no. Emmett I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair-”

“No, I get it.”

“No, you don’t. You did nothing. You didn’t even glare. I can’t be this mad at you.”

“I did nothing. That’s the problem. I let it blow out of proportion and by the time it got there, I couldn’t reign it back in. Alice gave you an idea of what happened, right? If I had kept my mouth shut after speaking with Edward, none of this would have happened.”

“If you had relayed the correct details and factored in Edward’s theatrics, none of this would have happened.” Rosalie appeared what seemed like out of thin air. You were sure you hadn’t seen her hovering nearby. Her warm brown eyes met your nervous gaze. You hadn’t been ready for any Cullens yet. “I’m sorry, too. You did nothing to warrant that reaction from us. I’m sorry for allowing myself to jump to those sorts of conclusions before you had even decided anything.”

If you had blinked, you would have missed Emmett nudging Rosalie with his elbow. No thoughts on campus. At least one storm was ending. Rosalie’s welcoming smile was not a sight you’d ever thought you’d see; and it was a clear sign that the discomfort would be over soon. But there were things - subtle things that didn’t always add up.

“I guess we’re cool then,” you said. You looked up at the couple properly. Although they didn’t compare to Jasper, they were both so attractive it was frustrating. It was the first time you’d seen them up close. Rosalie had the healthiest-looking flaxen hair you’d ever seen; and they both had such amazing skin. Neither of them had a single blemish to show. In fact, you recalled that Alice had pretty flawless skin as well—and Jasper’s complexion always looked so perfect. It was as if it blessed their entire family—which was even stranger because… Stop, just in case.

They were both smiling. Emmett reached out his hand for you to shake. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

“Thank you for letting us apologise,” said Rosalie, as the last bell rang and the hallway emptied. It wasn’t like they’d given you much of a choice.

 *

 Jasper had done nothing specifically to attract your attention. All he did was stroll over to his locker. But even just walking, the way he carried himself, how almost seemed to glide, never failed to knock the wind out of you. You caught his attention though, by staring, and he immediately looked at you. His bored expression suddenly drenched in regret. The negative feelings from the last few weeks consumed you; the humiliation, how repulsive you felt you were to him. There was an empty feeling in your chest, and as his apologetic amber eyes beckoned you over to him. Your legs moved before you could stop them.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk yet,” Jasper pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket. “But if you change your mind, call me?”

You clenched the paper tightly as it transferred from his fingers to yours, and your heart fluttered. Your mind went blank as you tried to respond. Open-mouthed and wide-eyed, you resembled a fish. Quickly, you turned away from him and walked back in the direction you came from. Your cheeks were burning as you continued to walk; thankful as you rounded the corner for not stumbling, but less enthused to see another Cullen in front of you. Alice. Again.

You knew it would continue to hurt you if you compared yourself to her; but she just looked so damn good all the time. If any of the Cullens were devastatingly beautiful, it was Alice - with emphasis on ‘devastating’. And the worst part of it was how nice she was trying to be to you. It was easier to soldier on when you could pretend she didn’t exist.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” She smiled kindly, eyebrows raised. You looked at her forehead, her skin didn’t wrinkle. It never did. She must have had some work done.

“S-Sorry, Alice,” you stammered, “I’m in a hurry.”

You picked up pace and rushed by her, taking refuge in the bathroom. She didn’t follow. You let out a sigh. You had come close to thinking again. You still scoffed at the idea that they could read minds or something, but you continued to guard your thoughts, anyway; and when you saw Alice’s eyes, one nearly slipped out. They were definitely much lighter yesterday, like chocolate - you were sure of it. Just then, they looked almost black.

It was driving you crazy. Tears began forming, but you refused to let them fall. Not over this. Not over something you were imagining. Jasper’s eyes flashed in your mind. That rich golden colour… When you’d first started liking him, you recalled Googling if his eyes were even possible and learning they were, but that they were rare; and for Emmett to share them as well was strange.

You bolted out of the bathroom and grabbed a random student passing by. She jolted from the shock of it. “Which of the Cullens are biologically related?” You sounded so aggressive, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

She chewed her bubble gum a few times and gave you a dumbfounded look before frowning at you. “Jasper and Rosalie Hale, obviously. What the hell is wrong with you?” She jerked her arm out of your grasp and shot daggers at you.

Unrelated, both with a scarce eye-colour. They seem to know what you’re thinking. They all look the same; pallid and tired-looking, yet alluring. You couldn’t stop yourself from going over the details.

You sprinted out into the parking lot, nearly knocking a guy down the stairs on your way. Before you could restrain yourself, you’d pulled a pen and a notebook out from your backpack and your hand began writing.

Wednesday. Alice, brown. 

Thursday. Alice, black. Rosalie, brown. Emmett, gold. Jasper, gold. 

[crownjimin]

✰ 099 | no takesies backsies

la vie en rose ━ in which lee aera, a girl who has been crushing on choi soobin for a long, long time, is starting her junior year and her friends decide that its time for her to make her move.

( masterlist | prev | next )

A/N: whoop! one more update + the epilogue and we’re donezo!!

“I can’t believe it’s really red—,” He flipped and shuffled his hands through her hair as he said this.

“So bright, so pretty,” Soobin muttered to himself, going as far as to bend down and push his nose into her scalp, taking a long, dramatic sniff. “Oh, it doesn’t smell like strawberries.”

Aera laughed at this, shoving her not-boyfriend away from her softly. “Of course not. That’s like me saying your hair should smell like chocolates.”

Soobin had recently dyed his hair back to brown--well, dark brown, and as much as it made Aera sad to see the purple gone from his hair, it was well past due. His roots had grown out terribly, meaning that he was either going to have to redo his roots or retreat back to his natural brown. Also, the purple was less purple and more of a faded ash gray, from all the washing Soobin did to his hair.

For a while, he was set on just letting his hair grow out, then cutting it at the brown once the ash gray was to the tips of his hair but Aera told him he would look crazy. They debated about it for a few days, but one day Aera showed up at his house with a kit with brown hair dye and a few hours later his chocolate brown locks were back. 

“Well, if you used strawberry shampoo it would smell like strawberries.”

“I will when you use chocolate shampoo.”

Soobin pouted. “I bet Ariel’s hair smells like strawberries.”

“Go sniff her head then,” the red-head quipped. “And I actually highly doubt that is true. She lives in the ocean, you know. The place where fish pee--that ocean.”

“Is there another ocean that I should be thinking of?”

“Yeah,” There was a teasing lilt in Aera’s voice. “The one I’m going to toss you in if you keep sassing me.”

The two were currently sitting in Soobin’s living room on Saturday morning, Soobin having asked Aera on Friday night if she wanted to spend the next day with him. Of course, without hesitation, Aera agreed, telling him that she would be there by ten, and now they were there.

Soobin had suggested watching YouTube in his living room until his mom got home from the gym, and Aera found no issue with the idea. During the past hour and a half, they had watched way too many Girls’ Generation music videos, and even attempted to learn the choreography to Catch Me If You Can. After forty minutes of them attempting to get past the first verse, they called it quits. Soobin claimed that he was too talented in girl group choreography to continue and further embarrass Aera with her lackluster movements.

But if you asked Aera, Soobin just didn’t want to have a dance battle, because he knew he was going to lose.

At noon, Ruha walked through the front door, her arms loaded with three market bags, filled to the brim with groceries.

“Soobin-ah,” Ruha yelled, a little too loud since she hadn’t realized he was right there in the living room. “Come help me with my bags!”

Both Soobin and Aera rushed to help Ruha, the older woman being slightly startled by Aera being there but she quickly perked up and said, “Oh good, Ae Ae is here. More hands to help!”

Everything felt so natural with Soobin and his family. Aera had spent a lot of time at his house since the picnic, and his parents seemed to love her. Soobin’s dad was obsessed when he saw how small Aera was, often leaning his elbow on her head whenever he stood beside her as a way to ridicule and tease her about her height. Then when she turned up with red hair, he almost had a better reaction than Soobin, dubbing her Strawberry Shortcake and hasn’t stopped calling her that since.

Aera had also gotten Soobin’s parents’ phone numbers, Ruha often texting Aera at random times throughout the day whenever Soobin talked about her.

ruha-ssi

he said you brought him lunch to school today. says that he loves how much you care about him

i’m sure he cares about me way more than i do him

ruha-ssi 

does he show it well?

that he cares for you.

wouldnt ask for him to treat me any better than he already

does ruha-ssi.

Or the time Ruha told her that Soobin was sleep talking and had muttered her name.

ruha-ssi

he’s napping.

[picture attached]

ruha-ssi

he just grumbled your name and had the biggest smile

aw that’s so cute

ruha-ssi

i know :)))

Soobin was aware that Aera had his mother’s number, but he didn’t know that his mother was revealing just how lovestruck he was. Aera didn’t plan on mentioning it to him either, thinking that Ruha is godsent for giving her so much dirt and content to tease Soobin with whenever he decided to get too sassy with her.

Plus, Soobin has had Dongmin’s phone number much longer than Aera has had Ruha’s, and she is one-thousand percent positive that her mother lived to embarrass her, so Soobin for sure had some dirt on her.

 It’s a win-win situation, all is fair in love and war.

“So, Soobin-ah,” Ruha spoke as she walked into the kitchen. “What time do you want to head out?”

Aera was busy placing things where they belonged from the market bags (yes, she knows where their groceries belonged—she’s been over there that much), but she raised an eyebrow at Ruha’s question.

“Head out where?” she asked.

“Soobin wanted to take you to an early dinner today,” Ruha paused, with a nervous expression on her face. “I-I don’t know if it was supposed to be a surprise or not-”

“No, mom, it’s fine,” Soobin waved it off. “It wasn’t really a surprise, I was gonna mention it to you later, Pouts.”

Aera walked out of the pantry, an excited glint in her eyes. “Will there be steak at this dinner?”

“Do you want there to be steak?”

“Yes.”

“Then there will be steak.”

━━━━━━━

The restaurant Soobin had chosen was very dark, Aera noted. The only light that was supplied was from a single candle lit in the center of the table, which left everything as shadows and tinted orange.

It seemed super expensive, and once Aera picked up the menu, her suspicions were confirmed.

“Soobi,” her voice seemed hesitant. “How are you affording any of this?”

She should’ve realized that the meal was going to be an expensive one when Ruha had offered Aera one of her old dresses, seeing as Aera had came over to their house in a pair of ripped jeans and a tattered t-shirt. The dress Ruha lent her was a dark blue, high-necked dress, where the waist tapered in and then flowed out to mid-thigh. Luckily, Aera had worn black flats that day, those being the shoes closest to her front door when she left for Soobin’s house.

Soobin was dressed in a simple button up and black slacks. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the top button of his shirt was undone—if Aera hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought Soobin was a young adult that worked a nine-to-five office job and not a sixteen year old boy taking his not-girlfriend out for an early dinner.

Everything was fancy, and the two of them were tucked into a corner booth where once they sat down the hostess had wished ‘Mister and Missus Choi’ a nice evening. 

“Months of allowance that I’ve saved up,” Soobin lifted his gaze from the menu and once he saw how worried Aera was, he rushed to reassure her. “Plus, I work a summer job! Don’t worry, Pouts, I promise it’s not too much.”

“You don’t have to spend your allowance on me, Soobi,” she spoke softly. “You should spend it on something you really want-something to make you happy.”

“Seeing you happy makes me happy.”

Aera blushed. “Don’t try to flatter me into running your pockets dry.”

“Ae Ae, seriously,” Soobin put down his menu and reached his hands across the table to touch her hands, which laid on the table. He tugged her index fingers once, attempting to soothe her and get her to not worry. “It’s fine. If it makes you feel better we can just split something, so that way I won’t have to spend much.”

The crease in her eyebrows gradually faded and she nodded in agreement. “Are you okay with splitting a steak?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Just order whatever, I’ll eat anything.”

Aera looked over the menu, her eyes skipping over the more expensive items but honestly the cheapest things were the hor d'oeuvres and even those weren’t cheaper than 74,000 won. 

“How about I choose one, you choose one, then we pick something together?” she suggested. “That way we can both enjoy something.”

By the time the waiter came to the table, they had decided on their personal picks and their combined choice, and once the food came to the table, Aera knew it was more than enough. The steak she had chosen ended up being as big as her face and had the both of them gasping in surprise once it was set on the table. Soobin decided on a rose pasta, in a dish large enough that it could feed a family of five. And their combined choice was a large platter of American-style french fries, but the way the menu phrased it made it seem like they were ordering a fancy potato.

Soobin offered to have the kitchen take it back, but Aera refused to give back french fries--she’d be crazy to ever turn down french fries (plus it came with a gravy boat filled with a white sauce that Aera could literally guzzle down in one go, so she was more than happy to keep it).

The moment the waiter told them to enjoy, Aera was shoving her fork into the steak, which was thankfully pre-cut, and the second she bit into it, juice ran down her chin and she had to squeeze every muscle in her throat to not let out a moan.

Soobin noticed her expression, the way her eyes fell close and she paused mid-bite. “Is it good, Pouts?”

“Tho goof,” she attempted to speak around her bite but she just gave up and nodded enthusiastically. 

“It’s so juicy,” she said once she swallowed. 

When they were ordering, she wanted to get the steak cooked well-done, but Soobin had told her to get it medium preaching something about it being more tender and juicer as if he knew everything and anything about steak. Aera argued and said she didn’t want to cut into her steak and hear it mooing back at her, and Soobin chuckled but promised if it was too raw for her when it came out, they could just send it back and she obliged.

She most definitely was not sending back this beautiful piece of heaven, and shoved another piece into her mouth. The scene from Ratatouille when the rat fused together strawberry and cheese and had color swirling around his head played inside Aera’s head the second she took another bite of the steak. Her eyes were closed, her head lolled from side to side as she swayed euphorically to the warmth of the steak and the flavor on her tongue.

Once she noticed what she was doing, she sat up stark straight and opened her eyes, watching as Soobin recorded her and laughed silently at her actions.

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself alot there,” Soobin ended the recording and set his phone on the table.

“Delete that.”

“I won’t. Here,” Soobin held out his fork where some of his pasta was twirled on the end. “Try it.”

Aera opened her mouth, letting him guide the fork inside and once she closed her mouth around the fork, the Ratatouille scene played again. She pulled away from the fork, her hand shooting over her mouth as she chewed and her eyes shot wide.

“Good?” Soobin asked, stabbing his fork in a piece of steak and eating it, much less dramatically than Aera had. 

“Is amayshin,” Aera muttered. “Why ish ev-wee-shing hwere sho amayshin?”

Soobin swallowed and laughed. “It better be with these ridiculous prices.”

“Oh, yeah,” she nodded and swallowed her bite. “It’s so worth it.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m glad I like you,” Aera giggled, shoving some fries into her mouth. “You buy me expensive steak.”

“Only because of the steak?”

She nonchalantly shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Soobin faked a scoff, halfway knowing she was joking, but once he watched her pick up another piece of steak, and then kiss it before she ate it, he wasn’t so sure if she was joking anymore.

━━━━━━━━━

Thirty-five minutes and an entire steak later, Aera and Soobin were slouched over, bellies full, with their plates cleared.

“I am going to sleep so well tonight,” Aera grumbled as she rubbed her stomach. “This was so amazing.”

The waiter came to give the receipt and return Soobin’s card, wishing ‘Mister and Missus Choi’ a good night, and left them to their vices. Aera chuckled at being called Missus Choi, because did she look old enough to be married?

Did married people dye their hair red? She didn’t know but did she look married? Did her and Soobin resemble a married couple? Oh god, that just fueled her fantasy of marrying Soobin and she knew that she would never let this go.

“Alright,” Soobin groaned, shoving the receipt and card into his pocket as he stood and rounded the table, reaching his hand out to help Aera up from her chair. “You okay?”

Aera blew out a breath. “I’m stuffed.”

They both stood in place, Aera swaying a bit from standing up too quickly and Soobin attempted to stabilize her by setting a hand on her waist. “Careful.”

“I’m fine,” she tapped his hand on her waist. “I’m okay, just stood up a little too fast. Let’s go.”

They walked out of the restaurant hand-in-hand, Soobin somewhat leading Aera as she momentarily closed her eyes as a way to wheeze out air around her full belly. This was the best meal she has had in entire life, one that she never imagined having unless she was filthy rich and drank gold for breakfast, lunch, and dinner but here Soobin was taking her on a date just because he wanted to see her happy.

When they made it outside, Aera tugged his hand, causing him to stop and turn to her. She eased her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder as she softly hugged him. He returned the gesture immediately, cuddling his head on top of hers and they just existed in the moment, in each other’s arms.

“Thank you for this, Soobin,” Aera squeezed him tightly, nuzzling her head further into his shoulder. “You made me really happy by doing this—you make me happy always.”

“I’m happy to make you happy,” Soobin chuckled, pulling away from the hug. “But the night isn’t over, we have one more stop!”

“Is  it far?”

Soobin nodded. “My mom is going to take us there. She’s on her way here now.”

“Where is it?”

“The beach.”

“The beach?”

Soobin nodded again. “The beach.”

“The beach,” Aera said flatly. “I like the beach.”

“That’s why we’re going.”

“Hm,” Aera sighed happily. “The beach.”

━━━━━━━━━━

Upon their arrival, Aera realized that when Soobin said the beach, he actually meant the boat dock by the beach. Well more like the yacht dock by the beach, because as they made their way to the end of the dock, they passed massive yachts, the type that only rich people could afford. Ones with balconies and two-stories that have some corny name etched onto the side that were either named after an important woman in their life or something like Old Betsy.

“What are we doing on a dock,” Aera giggled, swinging her and Soobin’s hands where they were connected. “I’m almost positive we aren’t supposed to be here.”

Soobin laughed as they came to stop in front of one of the smaller yachts, which wasn’t exactly small (but in comparison to the other yachts it was more compact), where a man was waiting for them.

“Choi Soobin?”

“Yes sir,” Soobin nodded, then gestured behind him. “And this is my mother, Ruha.”

The man extended his hand to Ruha, giving it a firm shake. “Yes, we spoke on the phone. Everything is set, if you guys want to climb on in, we’ll head out in about ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” Ruha said as the man helped her onto the yacht by her hand. 

The man then lent his hand to Aera, but instead of grabbing it, she took a step back, a conflicted look on her face.

“Wait,” Soobin placed his free hand on Aera’s wasit, causing her to look up at him. “You aren’t afraid of water, right? Boats or anything? Because I was just trying to surprise you, that’s why I didn’t as-”

“No, no,” Aera shook her head. “That’s not it, but Soobin how much was this?”

Soobin raised an eyebrow at the question, confused as to why she was asking this. “What?”

“It’s just—” she sighed. “You’re spending a lot of money today, and I don’t want you to think you have to blow a bunch of money just to make me happy. You could’ve just given me a bottle of water and I’d be happy that it came from you, so I don’t get why you are taking me to all these expensive places and things.”

“I just want to spoil you,” he softly replied. “Even if it’s just for a day. I want you to have some of the best experiences with me, so I don’t mind spending a lot of money on you.”

“But, Soob-”

“And plus,” Soobin smiled wide. “My friends chipped in to help, they wanted to make us both happy so they offered to help. You don’t have to pay them back, I don’t have to pay them back, they were just doing it out of the goodness of their hearts. Me as well.”

Aera stood there frozen.

“I just want you to be happy.”

“But I’m already happy with you.”

Soobin leaned down to rest his forehead on Aera’s. “Yes, but you’d be even more happy on the boat, so let’s go!”

Aera laughed as she reached out for the man’s hand, him having stood there and watched that whole sappy ordeal, and he pulled her into the boat. Soobin followed and guided Aera to the very front of the yacht, where Ruha sat with a blanket over her legs.

“Choi Soobin, this will be the last time you spend a shit ton of money on me, do you understand?” Aera scolded, her finger pointed at Soobin but a smile was on her face.

“Yes, ma’am, never again,” Soobin spoke jokingly, totally not meaning a word of what he just said. 

“You’re not going to listen to me are you?”

“Nope.”

The yacht got moving a few moments later, things feeling a bit shaky for a few minutes, but Aera acclimated to it quite fast. She and Soobin had taken to roleplaying the scene from Titanic that nearly everyone does when they are at the frontmost point on a boat.

Soobin held her waist as Aera held her arms out to her side, feeling the wind whip on her face and the smell of salt infiltrate her nose.

“The ocean is kind of stinky,” her nose scrunched up as she said this. “Smells like raw fish and high cholesterol.”

Soobin cackled, tightly wrapping his arms around Aera’s waist as he pulled her into his chest, her back to her front. “You ruined such a good moment.”

She giggled, placing her hands over his arms and squeezed. “I was just telling the truth.”

“Kids!” Ruha called out. “Come sit down for a few minutes, you’re making me nervous by the ledge.”

They obliged, walking to sit across from Ruha and they talked amongst themselves for a few minutes, playing a few rounds of rock paper scissors to pass the time.

“So are we just going to cruise around the ocean for a few hours or what?” Aera asked, peering over the side of the boat to look down into the water. “Because no offense to the ocean or anything, but this is a bit boring.”

Soobin pulled out his phone, checking the time before he answered, “Actually, no. Just seven minutes until what we came here for happens.”

Aera looked intrigued now, “Oh, is it fireworks? Are we looking at fireworks?”

“I don’t think lighting explosives on a yacht would be smart.”

“A yacht,” Aera chuckled. “Never thought I’d see one of these in my entire lifetime.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

“I’m glad my first time was with you,” she softly spoke, her voice almost a whisper.

“Me too,” Soobin smiled. “We’ll have many firsts together, hopefully.”

“Hopefully.”

At the moment, they were sitting side-by-side with their waist turned to face one another, but Soobin pointed behind Aera as he muttered, “Look.”

Aera turned her body around, to face the ocean, a gasp leaving her mouth as she absorbed the breathtaking scene in front of her. She watched as the sun burned a hypnotizing orange and pink hue, reflecting on the ocean’s surface. Slowly, the orb lowered to meet the horizon line, kissing it softly as the glares glittered across the rippling water.

She had seen nothing like this, ever. Mother nature and the Earth’s natural occurrences never appealed to Aera, they were never something she found interesting or attention-catching, but this—this was so worth it.

Her awestruck trance was broken when Soobin rested his chin on her shoulder, whispering, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s-I-” Aera searched for the right words but there were none that could accurately describe exactly what she was witnessing. It made her speechless, her jaw going slack as she once again watched the sun move lower and lower.

They sat in silence, taking in the scenic view before them. Ruha sat opposite of them, snapping pictures of the sunset as she oh’ed and aw’ed at the scene.

“Pouts,” Soobin muttered into her ear, keeping his voice low so as to not ruin the moment. “I, uh-”

“Hm, Soobi?”

“Please, be my girlfriend.”

All of Aera’s breath left her body, all of her blood seemed to run cold. Was she hallucinating? Was she hearing things?

“Huh-” Oh god, she sounded so stupid. Who responds to the boy of their dreams asking them to be their girlfriend with ‘huh’.

“I-” Soobin sat up straighter, Aera being able to feel so behind her. “I really like you-no, love you, and I want to be with you. Officially. For a very long time.”

Aera eased her way around, turning to face Soobin who looked like he was going to pass out any second if she didn’t give him an answer within the next millisecond. So she carefully raised her hands to his cheeks, cupping his face softly.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Choi Soobin,” she breathed. “I’d kind of be an asshole if I said no after all of this, am I right?”

Soobin held onto her wrists. “I hope that isn’t the sole reason you are saying yes.”

“Lucky for you, it is not. It’s probably one of the lower list reasons.”

“There’s a list?”

She giggled. “There has always been a list.”

The sound of her giggle seemed to have him smitten, his eyes zoning in on her lips which caused her heart to skip a beat. She wasn’t dumb, she knew what he was thinking of, what his eyes were asking for, and for some reason, she had no qualms about complying.

Her first kiss was always something Aera fretted about, thinking about how awful it was going to be, how she was going to mess everything up. But for some reason, right here, right now, with Soobin, she knew for a fact it was going to be amazing. This is maybe the first and only decision Aera didn’t hesitate to make, and so she leaned in.

The touch of their lips was soft. Simple. A measly, quick peck.

When they pulled back, both of their cheeks were colored rose, a look of fondness between the two of them and Aera leaned in to kiss the the corner of Soobin’s mouth before pulling away and dropping her hands from his face.

“No takesies backsies, Choi Soobin.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Lee Aera.”

[thebestofoneshots]

SUNDAY BAKING MADNESS

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Prompt: You and Dean are determined to finish a homemade meal and a cake for Jack’s birthday. So, naturally, the kitchen turns upside down.

Warnings: None, maybe a spoilers for 15x14? But nothing serious.

A/N: this is just a bunch of fluffy fluff because my boy Dean deserves some happy times.

You sat on the library table flipping through some monster lore pages, trying to find interesting information on possibly unknown monsters when Dean walked in, looking around suspiciously.

“Have you seen Jack?” He asked you and Sam, who had been silently reading on the chair opposite yours.

You denied with your head.

“He must still be in his room,” replied Sam “he’s been in his room ever since Mrs. Butters left.”

Dean nodded “I need you to keep him out of the kitchen at all costs!” He explained.

Sammy frowned “Why?”

“I’m making burgers, and a cake for his birthday,” He nodded and a little smile appeared on his mouth.

“Oh I can help you with the burger buns,” you volunteered.

“Did you just offered yourself to buy burger buns?”

“Not buy, make them!” You answered matter of factly.

“Wait second... you know how to make burger buns?”

“Well they’re just bread,” you shrugged.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Well it’s basically just yeast, flour and water...” you elaborated.

“Huh,” he nodded “well that sounds awesome, fresh buns and homemade patties... it’ll be a feast!”

You nodded and stood up to follow Dean to the kitchen.

He turned around right before reaching the door “Sammy, you better make sure he doesn’t go in the kitchen,”

Sammy nodded and then went back to his book.

As the two of you reached the kitchen, Dean took out some ground meat from the fridge, and an apron from the cupboard, that he then placed over his shoulders, it was a stupid black one that said “kiss the cook” in bold cursive, he loved wearing it.

You rolled your eyes but started looking for all the ingredients on your list. You needed yeast, flour, milk, butter and 2 eggs. Your buns had to rise before going in the oven so you had to start with those.

As the two of you worked in synchrony around the kitchen, just like you would on a hunt, he finished his meat blend and you finished the bread, but it still needed more kneading, if only the men of letters had a stand mixer, you wouldn’t have to do it by hand.

“Do you want some help?” He asked from behind, as he noticed you struggling with the dough.

“Be my guest,” you replied stepping aside. He started moving the dough around like playing with playdough, bland then he tried to spin it around like a pizza, you giggled from behind.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied “is just that you’re making burger buns, not pizza.”

He just turned around and raised his eyebrows at you.

“Here,” you approached him “you need to push, and then bring it back, push and then bring it back towards you,” you explained as you kneaded the dough on the counter.

He nodded and tried it himself. He wasn’t half bad “if you weren’t a Hunter, you’d make a decent cook.”

“Hey! I’d make an amazing cook!”

“Sure thing,” you answers and then, now that the dough looked even grabbed it deposited on a bowl, draped a wet towel above it and left on the furthest places on the counter possible.

Dean's patties were already on the fridge and your dough was going through the first rise time. “should we start with the cake?”

He nodded, “I found this recipe,” he pointed at a chocolate sponge cake one on an old men of letters’ book. You gave it a quick overview and it seemed nice, you weren’t anything close to a professional baker but you had made your fair share of cakes in the past.

“I think is a good one, you can measure the dry ingredients while I do the wet ones,” you said casually as you walked to the fridge to get some milk.

“Why are they wet?” He asked with a little sly smirk on his face. Of course he would, you weren’t even surprised. This was Dean Winchester after all.

“Well, you know Dean, wet ingredients are generally liquids, like milk, eggs, butter, that kind of stuff, so yeah, that kind of makes them wet... it does not mean they are aroused in any shape or form,” you added at the end just to mess with him. He drew a short breath like he was about to speak but you quickly interrupted “Now focus on the flour and cocoa powder please.”

He nodded and started measuring the ingredients. “The books say you have to sift them,” you told him as you departed the egg whites from the yolks.

He nodded and started sifting. As you busied yourself measuring the milk and melting some butter, you heard Dean from behind.

“Hey (Y/N)! Look what I found!” He said showing you an electric hand mixer. It was already connected, and he had already turned it on, it was just seconds from inches away from touching the mix. The mix with only dry ingredients.

Your eyes opened wide and you definitely screamed “Nooo!” as you walked towards Dean to try and stop him. But it was too late, as soon as the beaters touched the flour mixture a cloud of light brown powder filled the kitchen. Dusting not only Dean but also you and the entire kitchen around the two of you.

It didn’t take too long for him to realize his mistake and turn off the mixer. You drew in a deep breath and stared at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, now setting the mixer on the counter, still holding the bowl in his hands.

“You just dusted me completely...” you stated.

“Well not completely,” he argued.

“Dean Winchester, don’t you dare argue with me.”

“I should measure the ingredients again,” he nodded towards the Noe half-empty bowl. “Is all of this really going to waste?” He questioned, looking at the red bowl on his hands.

“Oh no, it won’t,” you said carefully grabbing it from his hands “In fact, it will be of great use,” you smiled at him and proceeded to dump the leftovers of the bowl towards him.

“What the f...” he started but you brushed out laughing, he couldn’t even finish.

“Ok fine, if that’s what we’re playing at,” he said then, dusting off all the powder towards you. The two of you were laughing at this point, and you grabbed some barbecue sauce he’d prepared earlier with a wooden spoon and softly spread it on his cheek.

“There, that’s the icing!” You smirked. He just narrowed his eyes at you but decided to be the bigger person and did not, ouch an egg on top of your head. Once your laughter died out, you almost felt bad for him. He genuinely wanted to make this dinner for Jack and an accident had gotten him filled with spices and ingredients. “All right, all right, we should probably focus,” you managed to say.

He just raised his eyebrows at you. “Sorry,” you mumbled as you started dusting off some of the powder on his shoulders and his chest. Then with a towel that sat on the counter, you started cleaning his sauce filled face. You had one hand on his left cheek and the other cleaning his right. After cleaning out most of it you nodded to yourself. “There you go, like new.”

He missed your hands cupping his cheeks as soon as you removed them. No one had cleaned his cheeks that way since he was 4, ever so gentle... so loving...

You stared at his big green eyes for a little too long before snapping out of the trance “we should go back to baking, or the cake won’t be finished, nor will the bread,” you said as you walked towards the dough and as you punched it and worked your way with it to start making the little balls.

“Is this ready?” He asked showing you the batter he was mixing.

“When there are no lumps, probably like a minute more. When it’s done you can put it on the moulds,” you commanded, “Also, don’t forget to grease the pans.”

He nodded and continued with his work until he was done. “Ready! Should I put them in the oven?”

“Yes! And then you can come over, help me make the little balls.”

He placed the cakes on the oven and walked towards you, “aren’t they too small for burger buns?” He questioned.

You shook your head “We’ll let them rise another hour before placing them in the oven.”

“Awesome,” he said and then paid attention to what you were doing “so you just roll them around?”

“Not quite, first, you have to pull the dough towards the bottom, to make the top smooth, then you can start rolling,” he nodded and tried following, but his little dough balls were a little weird. “Here, let me help,” you said as you placed your hand on top of his to coach him on the circular movement he was supposed to do. Not that either of you would admit it, but you loved every second of that hand over hand contact. “There you go!” You said as you removed your hand from his “you’re a natural.”

He smiled and continued. In just a few minutes you were done with the little balls and placed them on top of the oven, so they would rise nicely on the warm area. You then turned around and saw the mess the kitchen had turned into. You sighed “We’re gonna have to clean this out...”

He drew a deep breath “Yeah we do.”

As the two of you started cleaning the counter, Dean tripped, on attempts to keep himself off the floor he grabbed the side of the counter with one hand, but the sauce bowl was there and he only succeeded in flipping it and consequently it falling over his face, you, trying to help tried to grab his free hand, but his weight pulled you in and the two of you ended ok the floor. You on top of him and the sauce bowl on top of his head.

“Awww,” you heard him complain from underneath, you removed the bowl from his head and couldn’t help but let a small google out.

“That sauce most really like your face,” you pointed out and with your index finger grabbed a bit from the sauce and plopped on your mouth to taste it “and I’m sorry to inform you, you’re going make more since it’s incredibly tasty.”

He let out a small chuckle after that. He was in a good mood, after all, he loved having you on top of him. Not that he would ever admit it “Do you want some more?” He asked, grabbing some on his finger and plopping it on his mouth.

You thought it over “I don’t know... I’d be kind of weird to lick your face...” you joked.

But he wasn’t going to let the joke slip away that easily “you wouldn’t!” He played offended.

And that was all you needed, Dean turns things into a dare and you almost lose complete control over your own actions. Leaning closer to his face and lowering your head towards his ear, you whispered “Ah... wouldn’t I?”

And you gave a fast long kick to the far side of his cheek, laughing uncontrollably at his reaction as you rolled off of him. Your hair was now too filled with sticky sauce.

“Did you really just?” He asked in between laughter, you were both just like children when you were around each other. This just prooved it.

The two of you finally stood off the ground and continued with the cleaning. You tied your hair after trying to get some of the sauce with water and he did the same. You were determined to finish this dinner.

“Go bathe!” He said, “I’ll take the cakes out when they’re done, and put the buns in, that way you can check on them while I shower and after we can finish the burgers.”

“10 minutes more,” you said pointing at the oven “make sure to use a toothpick to make sure they’re ready!”

“You know, I’ve made cake before,” he replied.

“Have you, really?” You questioned.

He thought about it for a moment. He must have, he thought to himself. He knew he had at some point he just couldn’t quite pinpoint when. So he just repeated his earlier words “Go clean up, I’ll take care of it,” and so he did.

He checked the cakes were ready and took them out, set the timer for the buns, who had now grown into beautifully big dough balls for perfect burgers and, and placed them in the oven. But when he tried to take the bread out of the mould it wouldn’t come out.

“Hey (Y/N)!” He said loudly, so you would hear him from wherever he was, you walked in with a towel over your shoulders since your hair was still wet. “The bread won’t come out.”

You frowned “Did you grease the pans?”

“Yeah, they’re over there,” he pointed at a pile of oily frypans that sat per the kitchen table “but I don’t understand what that has to do with this...”

You sighed “Dean. You’re telling me you greased the frypans over the kitchen table...”

“Yeah, so the meat wouldn’t stick while cooking,” he replied, still fumbling with the bread on the mould.

“And didn’t it occur to you, that the moulds should’ve been greased too? So that the bread wouldn’t stick?”

Realization downed of him, that by “greasing the pans” You meant the moulds for the cake, rather than the frypans for the meat. “oh...”

“Yeah...”

“Can we fix it?” He questioned.

“We could try taking them out, some of it definitely won’t come off, no matter how much we try, especially the bottom part, but some can be salvaged,” You explained. And so the two of you went around the cakes with a knife to try and unstick the sides before Turing around the bread, luckily, two cakes came out, since the moulds were good quality and the bread had its fair share of butter on it. So other than the tops, the bread had come out almost entirely. Still good for a cake.

“All right, your turn,” you said motioning to the door, “there’re so many ingredients on top of you, you might as well be a cake.”

He chuckled at your words and walked towards the bathroom. Leaving you to tend the buns. Dean came about 15 minutes later, all fresh and clean and the two of you took the buns out of the oven together. But since he was cold from the shower you told him to focus on decorating the cake while you finished the meat. He tried to argue by telling you that he was the grill master and not you, but you shot him down by telling him he would be the master of nothing if he got arthritis from switching between cold and hot all the time.

So he finished decorating the cake, a masterpiece he called it. You tried not to laugh at the sweet intents of the big broad man to make a nice cake for Jack. You chuckled when you took a look at his face. It was again filled with stuff. This time the frosting you had prepared for the cake.

“All right grill master,” you said, walking closer to him and using the same towel as earlier to clean his face again. After removing most of if with the damp towel you smiled. He was so pretty, with his big green eyes just waiting for you to finish. “You really need to stop getting your face filled with food.”

“Well it’s not so bad if you lick it off like earlier,” he mumbled, barely audible, but you paid way too much attention to his words anyway, so you heard it. But you didn’t comprehend what he meant by it, or maybe you were too set on the idea that he would never think of you that way that you were now oblivious to the very evidence against it. So you ignored it and moved on.

The two of you finished preparing the burgers, the cake was in the fridge and you started bringing the burgers to the library, were Sam, Jack and now even Cass sat.

The dinner was fun, everyone loved your food and Jack even argued that Dean and You should open a restaurant together. He couldn’t believe his eyes when Dean brought over his cake. With a cap covering the cake to make more impact on the surprise.

“Ta daaa” he said as he revealed the cake, “Well it’s not like Mrs. Butters but—“

“— it’s great,” Jack said with a smile.

You were sitting in the table next to Sam, and couldn’t help but smile, you knew Dean was still hurt, from everything that had happened, but he was getting better, and he was starting to forgive, even if it was the hardest thing.

“Come here!” You said motioning Dean to sit next to you.

“It’s actually Nut and almond on the inside,” you said as you helped cut the cake.

“Like Nougat?” Asked Jack, with a bright smile.

“Exactly like Nougat,” replied Dean with a tiny little smirk, like he was so proud of himself.

You sighed deeply, staring at Dean for a little too long before going back to cutting the cake.

As Dean tried his first bite his face turned into one of surprise “Wow, we did great!” He said pointing at the cake “this is delicious!”

You took a bite of your slice and nodded in agreement.

“We should bake together more often,” he said casually as he took another bite.

You laughed since the frosting had gotten all over his face again. You had to resist the urge of cleaning it off. Not in front of everyone at least. “I doubt the kitchen would survive if we did...”

“Wait why?” Asked Sam with a frown.

“Oh nothing, right (Y/N)?” Said Dean giving you a look.

“Right... nothing,” you replied smirking complicitly.

What happens in the kitchen, stays in the kitchen.

Permanent Dean taglist: @akshi8278 @hobby27

Find more Dean fluff here

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Pet the Kitty ch.2 (spicyhoney standalone)

Summary: Edge does not resent that his cat is utterly shameless when it comes to Stretch. (He just wishes he could do the same)

Notes: This was supposed to be a oneshot but achirding had a thought and it became chapter 2! Based entirely on their idea, please enjoy!

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Lemon Goodness, Rough Sex, Yearning, Jealous of a Damn Cat

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge lay back on the sheets, panting, legs clumsily sprawled apart and one arm dangling off the side of the bed. His long fingers grazed against the carpeted floor, the sharpened tips catching as he tried to convince his wits to gather themselves back together in a coherent fashion. Slumped next to him, Stretch was much the same or at least Edge could pretend that his gaspy breathing was not only from exertion. If they were both equally overwhelmed, then there was no winner, was there, no matter what Stretch’s sly grin said.

The radio was on and playing cheerful pop music, a feeble concession to his neighbors, and Edge had long since moved the bed against an unshared wall where the thump of the headboard wouldn’t earn any irritated shouts or worse, glares in the hallway on the way down to get his mail.

Edge shifted again, grimacing as the linen beneath him clung clammily to his bones. They would need washing again, he noted absently, the sheets. Damp with sweat and other various fluids, heavy with the cloying scent of magic tangled in sex, spicy-sweet. Black sheets, the color not chosen for its aesthetic but for its tendencies to hide stains and purchased more recently than Edge wanted to admit. Before Stretch, his sheets had been simple and utilitarian, simple white cotton washed once a week with hot water and strong detergent. It took less than one night with Stretch to convince him that those would no longer suit. Once Edge found himself inviting Stretch over to put the bed to regular use, he’d gone for something a little more pleasing. It was well worth the price of a higher thread count when they slid against his bones as he was dragged across them, knees and elbows digging in as he scrabbled to brace himself or the achingly sensitive rub of his sacrum grinding into the softer linens. Sheets that hid a multitude of stains and were gentle against bones? More than worth the price.

Sex with Stretch was not what he’d expected when they first started this. For one, for such a lazy shit, he had more stamina that Edge would ever have expected and that blasted, obnoxious attitude of his was much less annoying when coupled with a sly grin and a tongue that was clever with far more than silly puns.

Sex with Stretch. Words that Edge would never have imagined putting together in a sentence that included himself, but if he’d ever managed to put aside his disbelief long enough to consider it, he would have pictured himself as the one in charge. Taking control, guiding their sexual calisthenics to the foregone conclusion. But from their very first time Stretch trod right over the very idea to pin Edge down, his slim fingers bracketing Edge’s wrists like cuffs of bone and keeping them there until he’d crudely teased out a first orgasm with nothing more than the subtle, rhythmic pressure of his knee.

Thus far, he’d dominated every one of their encounters and even less believable to him was that Edge found he liked it. Fuck that, he could at least be honest with himself in the privacy of his own mind; he loved it. Loved being able to lie back and hand over the steering wheel to someone else, his usual iron need to command shoved firmly into the backseat while he could only shudder with bliss, writhe against his expensive sheets and take what was forcibly given to him in hitherto unknown delight.

If there was any minor complaint, it was only the increase in his laundry and…ah. Well. There was one other issue.

Edge felt the faint brush of soft fur briefly against his dangling hand and then Doomfanger leapt on the bed, her loud baby cry demanding attention as she butted her head rudely against Stretch’s bare hip.

“hey, there, pretty miss.” Stretch automatically reached down to pet her, scratching the delicate points of her ears as she began to purr loudly enough that Edge could feel the vibration through the mattress. Edge bit back the entirely unreasonable demand for that easy affection to return to him. The faint ache at his pubis, the disjointed feel of his hips and knees was a fair sign he’d just gotten plenty of attention, not to mention his very recent memory of Stretch’s tongue curling wetly against his cunt. Driving into him as Edge tipped his head back and stared unseeing at the ceiling until he could no longer bear it. Closing his sockets achingly tight, his hands scrabbling desperately over Stretch’s skull and leaving behind faint scratches as he arched up and came.

He’d had all of that not even a half hour ago and he refused to be jealous of his damned cat, even when Stretch cooed to her about being a pretty girl while he struggled to his feet. His knees seemed to still be unsteady and Edge bit the tip of his tongue against asking Stretch to stay at least long enough for his joints to settle.

Pathetic to quibble about the aftermath. He’d gotten what he wanted, Stretch gave as good as he got and took what he wanted from these…sessions. Whatever else he wanted was as nebulous as the night sky Stretch liked to watch with the others, their telescopes set up in the backyard as they went over star charts and internet pages, and Edge sometimes brought them hot chocolate and snacks, listened to Stretch’s teasing laughter and silly puns, and it made some emotion clench in Edge’s chest that felt almost the same as seeing Stretch being so gentle and sweet to his cat.

Doomfanger made a sound of displeasure as Stretch stopped petting her to skin into his pants, the waistband already drooping enticingly down his pelvis as he hauled his hoodie over his head and hid the exposed bone. Something rattled in his hoodie pocket and Stretch reached into it with one hand, gripping beneath the cloth. He coughed faintly and looked ill at ease as he said, “oh, uh, by the way, i brought you something.”

That made Edge blink in surprise. Presents certainly weren’t a regular occurrence, past the one time Stretch brought a sackful of Chinese takeout with him, both of them slurping delicious noodles and fried rice right from the waxy white containers, and when Stretch finally pushed him down on the sofa, his kiss tasted of orange chicken and soy sauce, rich and ridiculously delicious.

This was no cheap offering. The box Stretch pulled out of his pocket was long and narrow, bearing the mark of a local jeweler. He held it out wordlessly and Edge tugged the sheet carelessly over his lap before he took it, his fingers trembling faintly as he lifted the lid to see the contents.

A collar.

All the heady anticipation rising in him deflated, draining out of him like water through a sieve. It was a lovely collar to be sure, obviously handcrafted and the leather precisely stamped with a delicate skull motif surrounded by ornate curlicues and shapes. Dangling from it was a gold tag etched in flowing script, a single word, his own name, ‘Papyrus.’

Lovely, yes, but it was difficult to stifle his rising disappointment. Of all the gifts in all the world that Stretch could give him, it was something for his cat.

Ridiculous, he told himself savagely. It was a gift and certainly a pricy one, and he was not about to let Stretch see any ingratitude for it.

“It’s lovely,” he admitted, and he could only helplessly admire the way Stretch lit up, his odd uncertainly brightening into dazzling glee.

“yeah? i was hoping you’d like it, i…i wasn’t sure,” he laughed a little unsteadily, “i spent a lot of time thinking about it, you know?”

“Of course I like it,” Edge assured him. He hefted it in one hand, admiring the dark leather against the paleness of his bones. It was certainly excellent craftsmanship and if its intended audience wasn’t likely to fully appreciate that, then Edge could certainly do it in her place.

“good, that’s good, ‘cause i was thinking—” Stretch trailed off as Edge pulled Doomfanger over, ignoring her plaintive meows as he slipped off her old collar, a basic affair from the local pet store, and carefully fastened on the new one. He noted grudgingly that the dark brown leather looked even better against her wheaten fur. She twisted in his hold, tail lashing as she tried to see what he was to do to her, and Edge soothed a hand down her spine as he adjusted her new adornment.

He frowned, tugging at the collar. It slid far too loosely, he could easily fit three fingers or more beneath it and the buckle was on the very last hole. “Hm, it’s a little big.” He glanced at Stretch and his face was falling into dismay, his previous delight fading. Edge added hastily, “Of course, it shouldn’t be a problem to add another hole.” Or three, honestly, the creator should have asked for a better measure before he made it. It was a shame to see any shoddiness in such lovely work.

A hectic flush was rising in Stretch’s face, a bright mottled orange against his cheekbones and Edge cursed himself for bringing it up. He could have had it adjusted without saying anything and instead he’d made Stretch self-conscious about his gift. “I love it,” Edge said, trying for reassurance.

From the way Stretch flinched, his attempt was miserable failure. “…great. yeah. that…that’s great.” Stretch ducked his head and ran a hand over his skull, slim fingers clattering softly over the bone. “i’m glad. um. i guess i better get going.”

It was peculiar to see him so discomfited and uncertain, especially here in his bedroom. Stretch fairly oozed confidence whenever they were together, and Edge let that dominance wash over him every time with the force of an ocean wave, trusting enough to give himself over to Stretch’s control.

Trust, yes, he trusted Stretch in a way Edge never had another, and a renewed sense of guilt filled him for making Stretch think he didn’t like his gift when honestly Edge never expected any to begin with. Edge wasn’t particularly skilled in seduction in any sense of the word, but this time he made an attempt. He gently pushed Doomfanger aside despite her offended yowl of protest to lounge back on the messy sheets, stroking a hand down his femur in generous offering as he tried out a purr of his own, “Are you sure?”

Pale eye lights flicked over his bare bones lingeringly, tracing his femurs, his pelvis, the scarred bones of his ribs, only to falter at the level of his chin. Stretch only stepped further away, towards the door as he stammered out, “y-yeah. see you later.” And with that, he turned abruptly on his heel and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him.

Edge sighed and flopped back again without any pretense of eroticism, dragging the comforter over his suddenly chilled bones. Fanger took that as an invitation of sorts, picking her way delicate across the sheets to settle into Edge’s covered lap. He stroked her soft fur and tried to push aside his unreasonable upset. It certainly wasn’t her fault Stretch gave her a present. It was still difficult to even believe. A present for his damned cat, even if it was a lovely one. Edge rubbed his knuckles against Fanger’s throat where the purring vibration met the collar, fingered soft fur and leather. When he touched the delicate tag, it tinkled against the bare bone with a bell-like chime. Absently, he traced his name with a fingertip, the delicate, curling script flowing across glimmering metal. His name.

His…name…

A flashbulb went off inside his head with a near blinding pop and Edge was scrambling to his feet before he even fully understood, snatching clothes haphazardly from the floor and hopping on one foot as he struggled to pull up his trousers, already calling a frantic, “Wait!”

The pavement was cold against his bare feet as he dashed outside and Edge paid it no mind, jogging out to the sidewalk to look down the street. The sidewalk was empty, hardly a surprise, Stretch wasn’t about to walk home when a quick shortcut would do. He stood there uselessly in rumpled trousers, his unbuttoned shirt hanging open and his hands dangling emptily at his sides as he groaned aloud, a frustrated, wordless growl. He was an idiot, an absolute fool, and—

“looking for something?”

Edge whirled around with a gasp, his soul pounding. Stretch was leaning against the side of the building, a cigarette in hand, and the sight of him, slouched down in that ridiculous hoodie of his and a curious, lopsided smile curving his mouth did unreasonable things to Edge’s soul.

“More like someone,” Edge said. He took a step closer and hesitated, assaulted with vague uncertainty as he asked, “That…that wasn’t for my cat, was it.”

That smile widened teasingly, “dunno, it did look pretty good on her.”

Edge swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Stretch—”

He shrugged and took a drag off his cigarette, exhaling a perfect smoke ring that drifted towards Edge, hovering briefly over his head in a nicotine-tainted halo. “guess it’s for whoever you think should wear it.”

An offer and a compromise in one, giving him the choice. As if there was one. Edge licked his teeth, their sharp points prickling lightly against his tongue, watched Stretch watching him, that slow, sinuous movement crackling in his darkening eye lights.

“Come put it on me?” Edge asked hoarsely.

“i can do that, kitten,” Stretch said, only his voice was the one purring, titillatingly rough, shivering its way down Edge’s spine. He tossed his cigarette aside and stepped forward, his touch cool against Edge’s suddenly overheated face as Stretch cupped it in both gentle hands and kissed him.

-fin

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The Wrath of the Scapegoat

[Seattle musical]

Prompt: No more tackle hugs! You’ll break my neck or worse, yours!

Word count: 2987

-------------------

The bundle of red had come out of nowhere.

Miss Gardener stepped out of her office for what she swore was only two seconds, prepared to go refill her giant metal water bottle (what? it’s a coach thing! you wouldn’t understand unless you have to monitor dozens of athletes in the heat- she needs water, too, damnit!) and then get back to paperwork (YES she DID do paperwork even though she was a coach. her teaching career wasn’t all about sports!), but then a firestorm of crimson fabric came barreling through the locker room corridor and slammed directly into her arms. If it weren’t for her profession being a coach and the muscles she’s gained from having such a job, she definitely would have fallen right onto her rear.

She also nearly drop kicked the assailant, but then she noticed that the flash of red she had thought was the red of a bloody banshee, was actually the red of the trademark sweater that was always worn by her favorite student.

  “Carrie!” She exclaimed. Her teal water bottle flew from her hands with a tremendous bang that rang in her ears, and she was sure that the floor had been dented upon impact. “What have I told you?! No more tackle hugs! You’ll break my neck or worse, yours!”

Despite her light scolding, she couldn’t help but smile to herself. She loved that Carrie felt comfortable enough with her to throw her full body weight into her arms, seeing as she had started out flinching and squirming away when she so much as raised her hand to blow her whistle. She would take being winded and having all her internal organs ruptured from the momentum of a teenage girl embracing around her stomach at full force than having all her guts intact and no gleeful daughter-figure to hug her.

Carrie mumbled something in response, but it was muffled by the aqua blue windbreaker her face was smothered against. Miss Gardener chuckled and stroked back unruly locks of thick brown hair.

  “I was just going to get some water,” Miss Gardener told her red-swathed koala. “Care to join me or would you like to head inside and start your homework?”

She tried to smother her smile, but the giddiness just kept bubbling up inside of her like a ruptured oil well. Inky globs of glee spewed within her, coating her brain with endorphins that made her want to hug this girl and never let her go. She had never considered herself motherly up until she met Carrie White, and now she couldn’t imagine her life without the daily office visits with the junior. These visits became a ritual of sorts, starting after a particularly rough day for Carrie near the beginning of the year, and turning into a permanent cycle of her skipping the cafeteria to eat lunch in Miss Gardener’s office whenever she could sneak past the hall monitors.

But right now, unless it was squashed all over Miss Gardener’s windbreaker, Carrie had no food with her.

It was always worrying when Carrie didn’t eat. She was already as light as is, and the way her clothes sort of dangled from her frame didn’t help, either. Miss Gardener had been helping her eat more often, making a sort of challenge out of lunch (“if you eat your entire apple, i’ll excuse you from the mile on Monday” or “eat your sandwich and i’ll let you pick whatever game we play on Friday”) because forcing the girl to eat would make her no better than her demanding mother. Some days Carrie obliged to her bets, other days she simply couldn’t. Miss Gardener is never mad or disappointed with her when she couldn’t; she likes that she tries. She understands that it’s hard for Carrie sometimes. And, in return, Carrie will give her a grateful look that simultaneously melt and break Miss Gardener’s heart,

But, at that moment, there was something else that was worrying. Miss Gardener ran her fingers across Carrie’s head and realized that her hair was wet. She lifted her hand and saw that it had droplets of some kind of light brown residue cascading briskly down her skin. There were chunks of /something/ caught in her brown tangles, too.

  “Carrie?”

There was a tiny whimper in reply. Miss Gardener felt a motherly instinct flare up inside of her and she leaned Carrie back to cup her cheeks, only to hold a face that was slick with drizzles of chocolate milk, spaghetti residue, and tears.

  “Carrie!” Miss Gardener cried in shock. “Oh, Carrie, what happened?” But Carrie didn’t have to tell her- she could already assume, and that made rage bubble inside of her. Still, the words that came out of Carrie’s mouth hit her like a punch to the gut with an iron gauntlet.

  “A-at lunch,” Carrie stammered, sniffling. “Th-these kids, th-they-” A glob of chunky tomato sauce fell from the crown of her head and spattered against her button nose, staining the collar and bodice of her yellow flannel shirt on the rest of the way down. With a voice that’s thick with humiliation and misery, she croaked, “They dumped their lunch on me.”

Miss Gardener felt an overwhelming tidal wave of fury crash over her, and it must have been visible on her face because Carrie flinched back and cast a dismayed look at the reddish stain on the front of her windbreaker. Miss Gardener looked at it, then back at Carrie, and then tenderly cupped her messy cheeks.

  “Oh, my poor girl,” She murmured. “I am so sorry, honey. Are you okay? Did they hurt you at all?”

Carrie shook her head, but Miss Gardener still checked her for any fresh wounds. Carrie was a master at hiding injuries thanks to living with a mother who didn’t trust hospitals, so scanning her body became like a game of I Spy. Luckily, though, there were no fresh shiners or scrapes or cuts, just old scabs and bruises and a welt on her wrist from Norma “accidentally” dropping a baseball bat on her four days ago. But the spaghetti sauce she’s dripping with is dark enough to look like gore, and the noodles dangle limply like loose intestines from her frame.

  “I’m okay,” Carrie whispered, voice wavering. 

  “Come on,” Miss Gardener took her hand and led her inside her office, abandoning her water bottle for the moment. She sat the girl on the small sofa and retrieved a rag she wets with hot water and a change of gym clothes, seeing as Carrie’s were ruined by spaghetti and milk, and turning up to her next classes completely stained wouldn’t help her at all.

  “I-I’m really sorry, Miss Gardener,” Carrie whispered. She’s sitting stiffly on the couch, back arched, nails dug into the cushions beneath her. A warm stream of chocolate milk oozes down into her right eye and she cringes in a way that makes her look like she’s about to be ill. Miss Gardener dragged the trash can over just in case.

  “It’s alright, honey,” Miss Gardener assured her. “You aren’t a nuisance, I promise. You aren’t bothering me.” 

Carrie hadn’t said that she was any of those things, but it was written all over her messy face that she was thinking that she was. She looked down, shifting her knees anxiously. She jolted backwards when the wet rag was brought to her face.

  “S-sorry,” She stammered.

  “Shh, it’s alright.” Miss Gardener said. She gently wiped the dripping mess of chocolate milk and spaghetti sauce off of Carrie’s cheeks and nose and forehead until she no longer looked like an abstract art piece created by Pablo Picasso. But without the layer of lunch grime, the sadness in Carrie’s eyes became more apparent and glowed in shades of hazel and green-grey. Miss Gardener frowned. “Carrie? Are you okay?”

Stupid question- of course the poor girl wasn’t okay. She just got God knows how many trays of lunch dumped onto her.

  “I-I was just sitting there,” Carrie whispered. “I wasn’t even doing anything to them! A-and then they c-came up behind me and--” She whimpered, wringing her fingers into white-knuckled fists in her flannel. Her clenched hands quivered with mounting anger. “And they dumped their shit on me! When I was I was just sitting there! It’s just-- it’s not fair!! And I just want to rip their heads off or throw food on THEM!”

Miss Gardener was impressed- she’s never seen Carrie lose her temper like this. She’ll admit that she didn’t think the girl had it in her, but here she was, quaking with rage and face glowing red. Angry tears poured down her cheeks.

After a moment, Carrie started to look a little less pissed off and she blinked as if she had just come out of a trance. She looked down at her tightly balled fists as if they were drenched in the blood of the students who had bullied her and fearfully shook them out until they looked like her own hands again. She swallowed thickly and looked up at Miss Gardener fearfully.

  “I-I’m sorry,” She whispered. “I-I didn’t mean to…” She trailed off, looking away. It seemed she thought that getting mad was the same as what those kids had done to her.

  “Don’t apologize, sweetheart,” Miss Gardener said. “You deserve to get a little angry. What those kids did to you was horrible.” She paused. “Carrie...have you ever tried boxing before?”

---------------

  “Miss Gardener, I don’t see how this is going to help me.” Carrie said. She gave the bulky red boxing gloves on her hands a look of visible distaste. Not being able to use her fingers made her a little nervous- what if someone snuck up on her and attacked her and she couldn’t grab the nearest doorknob to flee?

  “Hush,” Miss Gardener said and Carrie shut her mouth instantly. “Just trust me.”

Carrie doesn’t seem too convinced, but she nodded and looked forward at the thick punching bag dangling in front of her. She tilted her head, nose twitching like an intimidated rabbit’s. The weight room’s permanent smell of sweat invaded her senses.

  “Now,” Miss Gardener smiled. “Hit it.”

  “This?” Carrie pointed at the punching bag- or at least, she tried to. You couldn’t really tell with the damn gloves on her hands.

  “Yes.”

  “But won’t it hurt?”

 “That’s what the gloves are for, sweetheart,” Miss Gardener said patiently.

  “Oh.” Carrie said. “Okay. Well…” She hit the punching bag and watched it jostle ever so slightly on its chain.

  “Come on,” Miss Gardener encouraged. “You can do better than that. Get mad!”

  “Get mad?” Carrie echoed, tilting her head like a confused puppy.

  “You’re angry, Carrie. You’re upset over what happened at lunch. Let all those emotions out. Don’t keep them bottled up in you- it’s not good for you.” Miss Gardener said. “Come on, sweetheart. Get mad!”

  “Get mad,” Carrie said to herself. “Get mad. Get mad. Get mad!” She drew her arm back and sent it flying at the punching bag, causing it to rock treacherously on its chain.

  “There we go!” Miss Gardener cheered.

Carrie threw another punch.

And another.

And another.

Bam bam bam

The punches against the bag sound like gunshots in the still, quiet school weight room. Sweat soon sprung to Carrie’s brow and poured down her face, making her gym shirt and basketball shorts cling to her skin. Every muscle in her arms started to strain and ache, but she ignored the pain. The adrenaline is making it bearable, all the beautiful chemicals coursing through her veins as she hits and even kicks the hanging bag over and over again. 

Bam bam bam

That and the anger.

Bam bam bam

She watched her red mitts slam against the leather through narrowed eyes, imagining that they were coated in the blood of all her bullies. 

It all makes her so angry. Her mother. Her treatment at school. Her life. Who she is. 

Seventeen long years of being the good Christian girl. Of turning the other cheek. Of enduring and bearing. Of being patient and understanding and letting things go, always letting things go.

It gets old. So fucking old.

Bam bam bam

As she jabbed and knocked the bag back and forth, watching it swing wildly from its chain, she imagined what would happen if she didn’t have this gym, this bag, Miss Gardener, as a shock absorber for when this happened. When she exploded.

She imagined storming into the school and screaming her head off at the inconsiderate teachers, the rude students. She’s a smart kid, dammit! She’s been in school as long as everyone else, and she’s very good at it. No more questioning her, no more arguing or trying to make her look foolish, no more bullying. 

Bam bam bam

She imagined setting fire to the cafeteria, not caring about how much money it would cost to fix it. Just to hear the crackles of flames, just to watch the people scramble, just to be the chaos instead of the shield against it.

Bam bam bam

She imagined stalking into her homeroom, kicking the door open like she would sometimes try to do with the prayer closet. She would watch class jump in surprise and fear, not just staring at her like she’s her mother’s trained puppy. 

Bam bam bam

She imagined punching Chris in the face, hearing the crack of her nose. Better than any of the bullshit Christian music her mother makes her listen to.

And then, relishing it, she imagined dunking her into water until she couldn’t breathe, she imagined stealing Helen’s clothes and leaving her stranded naked in a bathroom stall for hours, she imagined tripping Norma in the hallway and have her break her jaw on the way down, she imagined putting a snake in Sue’s shoe and would watch her howl and foam at the mouth when it pumped her full of venom.

Who’s the boss now? Who’s the tough one, who doesn’t take shit, who doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want, ever?

She imagined growling into all of their ears as she tore into all of them and didn’t care how much of a devil it made her.

How do you like me now?

Being strong, and bold, and standing up, taking what she wants when she wants it, for the first time in her goddamn life.

Bam bam ba- AAAAAAAHHH!!!!!

The thing that overcame the sound of punching gloves slamming against a punching bag was just a noise, one that had been boiling up in Carrie’s chest for hours; long before she had gotten lunch dumped over her head, or walked into school, or even started school at all.

Carrie didn’t yell a whole lot, never had. She’d always had the tendency to quietly brood when her temper ran high or her spirits low, something that had helped facilitate her transformation over the years of torment and torture. So in reality, the noise that was escaping her right now was one she’d been holding back for a very long time.

It sounded stupid. But it felt good.

So she kept doing it.

Swinging her fists like a whirlwind, Carrie went after the poor punching bag, not caring whether she hit it or not as long as she was the stronger one, and she yelled the entire time. Intimidating or not, effective or not, when a sound was being uttered over and over by a teenage girl who’s been living the closest thing to Hell that could exist on God’s green earth, a teenage girl with wild eyes, a mangy body, and a lifetime worth of pain...

It was a goddamn battle-cry.

A heavy, rageful, awkward hit to the top of the bag sends the chain breaking from the ceiling, and all three hundred pounds of sand crash to the ground, rattling the floor upon impact. 

Carrie jumped back, crying out in surprise. She stared down at her fists, feeling bruises blooming over her knuckles even with the gloves on, and began to weep. Because she will never do any of that stuff she imagines.

She never does that.

She never defends herself or stands up for herself or fights back.

She only endures and endures and endures like a good little girl, like Mama wants, like how Mama made her.

It's what's best for her. What's best for everyone.

Carrie collapsed to her knees on the dulled tile floor, holding her trembling mitts up against her damp hair, heaving in and out as her heart pounds frantically, trying to break out of her rib cage. Miss Gardener rushed down to her side and she fell into her arms, sobbing. 

  “You did so good, baby girl,” Miss Gardener told her, rubbing her back comfortingly. Carrie wiggled her way completely into her coach’s lap and curled up there, crying harder. “So, so good. Doesn’t it feel good to get everything out?”

Through painful sobs and burning heaves for air and acidic tears, Carrie nodded honestly. Because it did feel good, even if it hurt. Or maybe she’s just grown to like the pain.

  “I-I broke it,” Carrie choked out, then instantly gasped for air afterwards. Her lungs stung intensely in her chest. She looked at the ruined punching bag guiltily. How did she do that?

  “It’s okay.” Miss Gardener stroked her sweaty hair. “We have other ones. Don’t worry about it.”

  “My hands hurt,” Carrie mumbled, suddenly weak and dizzy with exhaustion. “But...I like this...wanna do more of it…”

  “That can be arranged.” Miss Gardener said, smiling slightly. 

  “Yay,” Carrie whispered. She nuzzled her head under Miss Gardener’s chin and closed her eyes. With a shaky breath, she released the tension on her muscles and relaxed. 

One day, she told herself. One day she would get her revenge. But for now, she can rest easy in the arms of the only person who has ever given a shit about her in her entire life.

[the-coconut-asado]

Oh Stumptown my Stumptown!

Portland likes to keep it weird. Officially. You could even buy the tee shirt if tee shirts weren’t so predictable.   

From a poster invitation to “Hear my TED Talk about DIY and Impending Doom” to the Big Legrowlski (sic) night club that hangs carpets on the walls -  not to balance the sound for the band but because they really bring the room together -  the City has an off-beat vibe that feels authentic even while it gets you scratching your head. And where else would you queue round the block for a voodoo-doll shaped doughnut with a pretzel stick through its ‘heart’?

You probably won’t be surprised when I tell you that Portland is  the Hipster Capital of the World. You know it’s hipster because it sells more coffee and has more microbreweries per head than anywhere else in the US.

We came for the food because People That Know told us to. It’s not simply that everything is delicious but that chefs, cooks, carts and food enthusiasts are trying to do different. It’s like Masterchef has landed in Twin Peaks. Entrepreneurs are making ice cream out of chickpeas and it works. A pastry chef has re-interpreted her favourite childhood book on a plate and you rejoice in the complex flavours of her tiny reconstructed bunny. So who’s the bunny boiler now?

One thing that puzzled me is why the City changed its name from the original Stumptown (pretty weird) to Portland (the Holiday Inn of city names). Devon, a local lawyer who we chatted to most mornings in Baristas Cafe, explained that Portland was never officially called Stumptown.  It became its nickname due to all the trees they had to cut down to build it, leaving the eponymous stumps in their wake. Stumptown is also the name of their iconic coffee brand, which I always assumed was NYC’s greatest invention. This is one of the many ways in which travel expands your mind.

Devon embodied something else about Portland: its friendliness. Even the passport officers are anxious that you have a good time. Full disclosure,  it wasn’t just Devon that we sought out each morning - it was Pepper, his cute little dog. I would eat Barista’s fresh, flaky rhubarb hand pie just to drop crumbs that Pepper would breakfast on. 

Devon put us onto a couple of great places to eat - one we made it to, one we didn’t. But more of that later.

Where to begin to describe this steel guitar food odyssey? Let me take you through our many highlights from the  mountain of food we consumed. Set it to the soundtrack of Chris Isaak’s Wicked Thing.

Our first evening, tired and hungry, we stuck to our guns and found Andina, the City’s Peruvian eatery. When you are both tired and hungry it’s easy to get seduced by posters boasting ‘Meatball Monday’ and forget your mission, but our persistence paid off. That legendary Portlandia hospitality squeezed us into a nook where there really wasn’t a free table, and we dined greedily on humitas, ceviche, lamb shank and seafood, washed down with Oregon’s finest home-grown Pinot Gris. I didn’t quibble that they brought something different from my order. In my fractured Spanish ‘Arroz con Pato’ probably did sound like ‘Seafood Risotto’  - and the risotto was obviously going to be delicious before fork met lip, so I didn’t send it back.

Next day, which coincidentally was Taco Tuesday, we hit the street food. 

Portland is big on street food (see: hipster capital of the world). Most food vendors have carts - permanent fixtures where the chef builds enough of a following over months or years to be able to open a small restaurant. Nong’s Khao Man Gai was just one of these. They do one dish - a Vietnamese poached chicken with a secret chilli sauce, accompanied by rice cooked in the chicken broth. You can also have a version with shrimp, pork or Tofu. We bought a bottle of the sauce to bring home. Life’s too short.

It’s not all carts - there are a fair few trucks too. 

One which specialised in cheese toasties challenged “ Come and relive the taste of your childhood. But if your childhood sucked, we’ll share the memory of ours”. Have you eaten a cheese toastie recently? I mean really felt the embrace of  a sandwich of molten cheese and fried bread? Maybe your childhood did suck after all.

That evening it was the turn of The Hairy Lobster restaurant, and that bunny dessert I mentioned earlier. Little Bunny Foo Foo to give it it’s full name. A delicate carrot cake, covered in cheesecake mousse, accompanied by a ginger crumb, caramel sauce and a marshmallow rabbit. 

Despite it’s show-stopping appearance and fusion of flavours, it was their roast squash with curry sauce and pumpkin seed praline that was the stand-out dish for me. The Lobster picnic for our main was pretty damn good too.

Friday brings me to Devon’s first recommendation, Pok Pok,  a teeny Thai eatery in the suburbs. Getting there had the added advantage of passing through a neighbourhood full of rambling old houses in the Amityville Horror style. I recalled the first time I had heard of Portland was from a TV thriller full of witches and jabberwocks called Grimm. They had definitely filmed it’s eerily beautiful moments around here.

If I had to single out a food highlight in a week of next-to-no food lows, I would choose Pok Pok. It gave me my first food coma in a long while. Something about it’s smoked aubergine, pork belly curry, marinated chicken with two dips, sublime mango with sticky rice and that rhubarb blush cocktail… I sense I am sharing my food coma with you now. Their signature dish is hot spicy chicken wings. The couple on the table next to us were too full to finish theirs so offered them to us. Maybe it was the wings that tipped me over the edge. I’ll never know.

And so to our last day, and the big daddy of Portland nights out: Jake’s Crawfish. Over 100 years old, walking into Jake’s is like walking into one of Sinatra’s memories. It has a justifiably stellar reputation, and seems to have maintained it for a century. I ate Steel-head trout for the first time, fished on their doorstep from Oregon’s Columbia River, coated with a horseradish crust, and preceded by half a dozen of the plumpest oysters I have ever eaten.

I haven’t yet mentioned Portland’s biggest hipster foodie habit: brunch. No matter what day of the week, the restaurants that brunch are always full. For most of our trip, we were waking up too early to really do brunch justice. Those rhubarb hand pies at Baristas had satisfied our hunger by around 8AM so a mid-morning banquet wasn’t really on. One day, however, we made it to Tasty & Alder in the Pearl DIstrict of the city and managed to sneak in a table for two before the queues built up. Worth it for their Green Frittata with salsa verde (who ever thought of doing that before?) and lightest, fluffiest American biscuits. We never made it to Devon’s second recommendation: Burmasphere, his friend’s Burmese cart on the other side of the river. And now we have an excuse to return.

When it came to rustling up some recipes that take me straight back to Portland weird, I whittled my list down to three: my version of Tasty & Alders’ green frittata with feta and salsa verde; a less labour-intensive version of Andina’s Arroz con Pato, made with chicken or guinea fowl; and in the spirit of weird, though by no means original, a cake inspired by Churros con Chocolate. The best possible end to a Taco Tuesday.

I messaged a friend of mine that had moved to Portland a few years back and asked why she had ever left. “ Too much rain and not enough art.” she said.  

You missed the point Sweetie. Great Food IS great art. And if you can’t stand the rain, get into the kitchen.

Green Frittata with Feta and Salsa Verde

A great little brunchy-lunch dish packed with flavour for the carb-conscious. If you want to add some carbs, slices of toasted sourdough will go down a treat. Serves 4

Ingredients

8 large free-range eggs

1tblspn, double cream

100g asparagus spears, chopped into 2 cm chunks

100g shelled garden peas or petit pois

50g feta cheese

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the salsa verde:

Small pack of flat-leaf parsley (around 15-20g)

½ a small pack of mint leaves

3 tbsp. Capers

7 anchovy fillets

1 clove garlic

1 tbsp dijon mustard

8 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

How to make:

Bring a small saucepan of salted water to the boil, then add the peas. After a couple of minutes, add the chopped asparagus and continue simmering for another 2 minutes. Drain and refresh under cold water. Put to one side.

Next, make the salsa verde. Put all the ingredients except the olive oil into a blender, season generously with pepper and go easier on the salt (anchovies and capers are already pretty salty). Then, add the olive oil and blend again. Don’t over blend at each step - it's nice to keep the texture a little rough.

Put a skillet on the stove and melt a knob of butter. Beat the eggs, add the cream and season. Lightly saute the green vegetables in the butter for a minute or two. 

 then pour the eggs over and crumble the feta cheese over the top. Cook for a couple of minutes until the bottom is starting to brown.

 pop under the grill to continue cooking, until the top is a light golden colour and the frittata has firmed up with a slight wobble (keep a close eye on this, probably takes 2-3 minutes).

Cut the frittata into 4 wedges and serve with a dollop of salsa verde on top.

Arroz con Gallina Picante

I never did get to eat Arroz con Pato in Andina, but while I adore the rich flavour of duck, devoting two or three days to confitting it before finishing the dish is only for the dedicated dinner party cook. This version with a spicy chicken and a feta-enriched herb sauce (based on a Melissa Clark recipe)  goes down just as well - or the richer Guinea Fowl, which I have used here. And Peruvian aji amarillo is now more available by mail order - substitute ordinary chile powder if not. Serves 4.

Ingredients:

1 medium-sized chicken or guinea fowl, jointed into 2 breasts, 2 drumsticks and 2 thighs (discard the back or freeze to make stock at a later date)

For the marinade:

6 garlic cloves, crushed

3 tbsp light soy sauce

1 tbsp paste made with aji amarillo powder and olive oil

Juice of 1 lime

1 tsp sriracha sauce

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

2 tsp ground cumin

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the sauce:

½ a large bunch coriander leaves, broken up

2 jalapeno chilies, chopped

75g feta cheese, crumbled

1 garlic clove, crushed

Juice of 1-2 limes

2 tsp chopped fresh oregano

½ tsp dijon mustard

½ tbsp aji amarillo paste (see marinade earlier for method)

1 tsp honey

1 tsp ground cumin

½ cup extra virgin olive oil.

For the Peruvian Rice:

3 tbsp sunflower oil

2 cloves garlic, crushed

1 onion, finely chopped

3 heaped tsp aji amarillo paste (see marinade earlier for method)

½ large bunch fresh coriander, broken up and blended till smooth with a tblspn water

500g fresh chicken stock

300g bottle of beer or lager

2 x small green chillies, chopped finely

500g basmati rice

1 red pepper, chopped into small chunks

100g fresh garden peas or petit pois

How to make

First, make the marinade. Mix all the marinade ingredients in a large bowl, cover the fowl of your choice in it, cover with cling film and pop in the fridge for at least 4 hours or overnight.

For the sauce: put all the ingredients into a blender, and blend till smooth. Pour into a bowl, cover and refrigerate, taking out about 15 minutes ahead of eating to bring to room temperature.

For the rice. Heat 2 tbsp oil in a saucepan, add the onion and garlic and saute until starting to turn golden. Add the blended coriander and chili paste  and cook for a couple of minutes until the paste has thickened slightly and smells delicious.

Pour the beer into the saucepan, cook for a few minutes then add the chicken stock. Bring to the boil, season, then take off the heat, cover and put to one side.

Heat the oven to 200C. Pat  the chicken or guinea fowl pieces dry, then pop onto a shallow baking tray, season and drizzle with olive oil. Put the tray into the oven and roast for 35-40 minutes.

While the meat roasts, finish the rice. Heat 2 tbsp oil in a medium sized saucepan, add the peppers and cook for a couple of minutes. Then add the rice and stir into the oil and peppers until it starts to crackle a little at the bottom. Add the peas and chilies and stir again, then add the stock, beer and onion garlic mix. Stir, season if needed, then cover and simmer on a low heat for 25 mins.

Fluff up the rice and spoon onto plates. Top with the chicken or guinea fowl pieces, and crown with a dollop of sauce.

Churros Bundt Cake with Dipping Chocolate Sauce

I love churros, and I love a Bundt cake. If you want all the flavours but none of the faffing or frying, then give this a try. The cake will keep, covered in a tin. Just remember to reheat the chocolate sauce for dipping or pouring each time. Serves 8-10

Ingredients:

For the cake:

2 ¾ cups plain flour

2 tsp. Baking powder

2 tsp ground cinnamon

½ tsp. Salt

170g unsalted butter

130g caster sugar

50g soft brown sugar

4 large eggs

1 egg yolk

1 375g punnet of sour cream

2 tsp. Vanilla extract

For the cinnamon sugar ‘glaze’

2 tsp ground cinnamon

4 tsp caster sugar

For the chocolate sauce:

½ cup cocoa powder

Pinch chilli flakes

100g dark chocolate (70%)

1 cup double cream

½ cup dark brown sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract

½ tsp cinnamon

How to make

Preheat the oven to 160C. Grease and flour a large bundt cake pan (make sure to get into all the nooks and crannies).

Beat the butter and sugar in a mixing bowl (ideally using an electric stand mixer) until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one by one and continue to mix between each addition, finishing with the egg yolk. Add the sour cream and vanilla extract and beat again until just incorporated.  Mix all the dry ingredients, add them to the butter and egg mix and fold in until smooth. 

Pour the cake batter into the bundt tin and bake for around 50-55 minutes until a skewer inserted near the middle comes out clean (I usually check the cake after 45 mins). Invert the cake onto a rack to cool.

Mix the remaining sugar and cinnamon in a small bowl. Melt the butter and paint all over the surface of the cake. Dust the cinnamon sugar over the buttered cake, making sure you pat it in places to stick.

To make the chocolate sauce. Pop all the ingredients into a saucepan, then cook, stirring constantly, on a low heat until the chocolate has melted, everything is smooth and custardy. Let it bubble slightly then turn off the heat.

Serve slices of the churros cake with warm chocolate sauce poured over. There are some who prefer their chocolate sauce served cold. That’s fine too.

[pllandcompany]

Fire Meet Gasoline (Part Two)

Summary: Hospital!AU. Family dinners are hard. Therapy sessions are worse. Fortunately, both eventually come to an end.

Warnings: mention of past drug use/addiction, description of past child abuse, some yelling, crying, description of anxiety, food mention, drinking/drunk character

Tagged:  @ziallwarrior @thefallendog @apologieslogan @trueunreal @flyingfreeyt @thecatchat @crofters-jam @jakesmolbean @band-be-boss-blog @ab-artist @asylia-5911 @backatthebein @oonagh-una

Pairings: Romantic Logince and QPP Moxiety

Notes: Part Two is here! I tried something a little different with the writing style, it’s a little more dialogue heavy than I usually do and the scenes with Logan and Roman are not taking place at the same time as Patton and Virgil. I basically kind of mashed up two standalone fics in one; hopefully it isn’t too confusing. Also, I’m sorry if I suck at writing Picani. Cartoons are not my forte (thank you, deprived childhood). As always, feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

 The waiting room was quiet, almost eerily so. A clock tick, tick, ticked steadily behind the heads of the two gentlemen seated in the desolate vestibule. A deep sigh echoed against the walls followed by the impatient drumming of fingertips on a plastic chair. Gentle hands clasped the anxious fingers, drawing a surprised glance from the drummer. The hands drew back to their original place and silence reigned supreme in the space once again. Tentative peace was broken once again by the drawn-out gurgling of a nervous stomach accompanied by flushed cheeks and a chuckle from both men. The unexpected moment briefly released a modicum of tension from the atmosphere and the first words were spoken.

“Sorry. Didn’t eat much before I came here. Nerves.”

“I can tell. Maybe we can go have lunch afterwards?”

A pause. “We’ll see about that.”

“Roman Courtland? Logan Taylor?” A bright voice pierced the air, earning the surgeons’ attention. “Well, what are you two peering at me with your Brown-Eyed Peas for? Come on in; let’s get it started in here!” The therapist sung the last few words of his sentence, posing valiantly as if it was the most brilliant joke known to man. The pervasive silence definitely indicated otherwise.

“I apologize, Dr. Picani, I don’t know that one.”

Dr. Picani hunched his shoulders but maintained his giddy smile. “Not a problem, Logan. It wasn’t my best work anyway. Seriously though, let’s get started.” He began frantically ushering the pair into his office. Roman lagged slightly, already unimpressed.

“Wonderful. It’s like Patton on speed.”

****

“Honey, you gotta slow down. You’re gonna burn yourself or break something!”

Patton closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was only about the millionth time Dot had panicked over his speed in the kitchen.

“Mom, I’m fine. I always work this fast and stay safe. You taught me how to, remember?” He gave her a gentle but pointed look. “You’re hovering. Don’t worry so much. I’ve got this.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. I just can’t help it! It’s what moms do, you know.”

“I know, Mom, it’s…it’s fine. Maybe you and Dad can help set the table? That is if he’s not still traumatized from surgery this afternoon.” Patton chuckled to himself at the thundering footsteps rushing down the hallway. Larry skidded to a halt in the kitchen doorway, pointing at Patton vigorously.

“No! You do not get to mock me! You took a needle the length of my arm and stuck it in a pregnant woman’s stomach! And you made me watch it!”

“Yes, honey, but he did it to fix her baby’s heart defect. He saved a life before it was even born.” Dot was practically beaming. Larry shuddered, still trying to erase the image from his brain.

“I get that, son, and we’re so proud but…I don’t know how you ever got used to that. You’re braver than me, that’s for sure.” Patton had to let himself grin on that one.

“It’s just my job, Dad, but…thanks. Can you and Mom set the table? Dinner’s almost ready.”

Dot checked her watch, suddenly furrowing her brow. “Sweetie, didn’t you tell Virgil to be here at 6:00? It’s almost 6:30.”

Patton looked up sharply. “Really? Wow, I didn’t realize it was that…late…”

“You are sure he wanted to do this, right, son?”

“Larry, don’t do that! Something could have come up; he is a surgeon too. Maybe there’s an emergency.”

“But wouldn’t they have also paged Patton? Wouldn’t he have let him know he had to go to the hospital? I’m just saying- “

“Mom, Dad, calm down. Virgil probably got held up with something at work. He is chief of trauma now; that comes with a lot of responsibility that he has to fulfill before he can leave.” He turned back to the pot in front of him, stirring the sauce absently. “He’ll show. Don’t worry; he’ll show up.”

****

It took Roman a second to process what he was seeing. Posters of cartoons and Disney movies littered the walls and there were plush animals and toys piled in a corner. He couldn’t even readily identify the plaque that held this man’s doctorate under the multiple stickers that covered the frame.

“Are you a children’s therapist?” God, I hope so, Roman thought.

“No! Everyone always says that, I haven’t the foggiest idea why…” Roman shot a dark look to Logan who widened his eyes and nodded to the red leather couch for him to sit. Roman pursed his lips and sat down on the opposite end from Logan.

He was not convinced about this at all.

“Okeydokey, welcome to couples’ therapy! I am Dr. Picani and while I’m no stranger to Logan over here, I don’t know you as well, Mr. Roman Empire so why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Roman raised an eyebrow at the rapid-fire introduction. This guy literally chirps when he talks. He let out a deep sigh and folded his arms across his chest, barely concealing his irritation.

“Okay…well, my name is Dr. Roman Courtland and I’m a neurosurgeon.”

“Oh, fascinating! So, you study the brain too! Well then, this should be a piece of cake for you!” Roman simply huffed in response, earning a look from Logan. Dr. Picani would not be deterred though. “Okay, well, obviously you two are here to work out some issues in your relationship, right? So, what’s going on in the world of Rolo?”

“Rolo?” Roman spat out incredulously.

“Yes, it’s your ship name! Just a little something I like to do with my couples.”

“Well, I don’t like chocolate.”

“Roman! That’s enough!” Logan’s shout startled both the counselor and the neurosurgeon. “Why are you being so rude? I admitted to you previously that his methods were unconventional. I also told you that they have helped me tremendously. Can you please just give it a chance?” Roman leaned back against the arm rest on his side of the couch, folding his arms yet again.

“Fine…what’s up, Doc?”

Dr. Picani smirked at the defensive doctor. “Very clever! You’re a quick one! Okay, back to the world of Rolo.”

Silence pervaded the space. “I-I’ll start.”

“All right, Logan, way to be the Brave Little Toaster and heat up this discussion! What’s on your mind?”

“Well, I believe that I am…no…I feel…afraid.”

“Good job. It’s okay to admit your feelings.”

“Afraid of what?” Roman’s voice was harsh and unyielding, the coldness rattling Logan slightly.

“I…well, I’m afraid that you want to leave me. I fear that my deception has pushed you away.”

Roman scoffed. “I think I’ve proven that I won’t do that.”

“Maybe not but you still resent me. I can tell; I’m not-”

“Stupid? No, definitely not. It takes incredible mental skill to manipulate those closest to you into believing nothing’s wrong without them ever catching on.”

Logan recoiled. “You’re angry.” Roman turned away and looked at the wall. “And rightfully so. You of all people didn’t deserve to be lied to. I am deeply sorry for that.”

Roman didn’t answer.

****

“Sweetie? Honey, the food’s getting cold, maybe we should eat- “

“Just heat it up then, Mom!” Patton was visibly tense.

“Hey! Don’t talk to your mother like that! She’s trying to help you!”

“I know, I know but I don’t need help because he’s coming! He just got held up at the hospital. He’s on his way.”

Dot hesitated, fearing the consequences of her next words. “But sweetheart…we haven’t heard from him- “

“He’s coming, Mom!” Patton looked down the hallway, listening for the door. “He’s coming.”

****

“Logan, why don’t you go ahead and tell Roman what we talked about sharing with him last session?”

Logan looked up, his face impassive except for the mild fear glazing over his eyes. “Now? Oh, ah…all right.” He took a beat to calm his nerves. “Roman. Firstly, I want you to know that I lo- “

“Can I ask a question?” Roman was looking straight at Dr. Picani who looked back at him, slightly surprised. “Well, I believe Logan had something he wanted say- “

“No, it’s fine. You may ask your question, Roman.” The neurosurgeon shifted forward, finally facing Logan with a steely gaze.

“I want to know…what made you start using? The first time, not this time.”

Logan’s face remained blank, the pounding of his heart secretly betraying him. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Really? You don’t see how it’s relevant?” Sarcasm dripped from each word.

“Let’s stay calm here, Roman. This is a safe space.” Logan held up a hand to cut off Picani.

“No, Roman, I do not see how the genesis of my addiction is relevant to our current circumstances. Please elaborate.” Logan could be sarcastic too.

“You’re telling me that you don’t see how the origin of the sole issue that is ripping the very fabric of our relationship apart is relevant to our current conversation? You really can’t see that?” Roman’s voice was starting to rise.

“That is not fair!” Logan began to shout back.  “Our issues are not all on me! It takes two people to make or break something!”

“Exactly! And while I have given you everything, you have given me nothing!”

“I couldn’t, Roman! I was sick and overwhelmed; I couldn’t give anyone anything!”

“No, of course not, because addiction isn’t your fault! Because you have a disease! Because you were traumatized!”

“Don’t you dare mock me. You can resent me all you want but I won’t tolerate being mocked.”

“I’m not mocking you! I am just stating facts. Because of the nature of your condition, you can’t ever be blamed for anything! This leaves me to shoulder the burden of our entire relationship!”

Logan froze, his eyes filling with tears. “You think of me…as a burden?”

Roman panted, his eyes blown wide. “No…no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, then what did you mean?!” He was outwardly panicking now. Dr. Picani had to step in.

“Logan? I think Roman is trying to say that he feels alone in this relationship. Am I close, Doctor?” Picani bore a slight smirk on his face at Roman’s stunned expression.

“Um, yeah, yes. I do…feel alone.” He turned back to Logan. “And I don’t want to be. But…I don’t know you, Logan. Not truly. And it makes it not trust you. I have to know you to trust you, so I need you to give me something. Tell me something honest. Tell me how this all started so I can better understand how to help you fight it. Because I want to, Logan. I want you. All of you, even the broken parts.”

Logan stared down at the ground hard, fighting the urge to break down. The room held their breath as they waited for him to come back to them. After an agonizing eternity, Logan finally looked up, a stony expression draped over his face like an iron curtain.

“Okay. I’ll tell you.”

****

“I’m gonna go ahead and start cleaning up, dear.” Patton didn’t move a muscle, barely noticing his mother shift next to him and start gathering plates. He was drowning in disappointment. How could Virgil do this? They had come so far, how could desert him now? Larry reached out and grabbed his son’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’m so sorry, son. I know how much this meant to you- “

The sound of a frantic doorbell pierced the air. Patton shot up from his chair like a rocket, practically sprinting to the door. He wrenched it open to discover a disheveled Virgil, dressed in an all-black suit and holding a wilted bouquet of roses.

“Virgil! What happened to you?! You’re two hours late!”

“PATTY!” Virgil bellowed, opening his arms wide and swaying slightly.

“And you’re drunk…” Patton couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Only a little but ‘ts fine, Patty…” He was slurring badly.

“You never drink.”

“First time for -hic- everything!”

“Virgil, what the hell is this? Why would you sabotage this evening?!”

“Psssh, I dunno, it’s crazy, right? Maybe I’m crazy, Pat!” He wildly gestured to his head, bugging his eyes out almost comically. Patton continued to rant, ignoring the erratic behavior.

“Virgil Davidson, this is not a joke! You were supposed to be there for me tonight! Do you know how scared my parents were for me when I came out? How much they worried that no one would understand and what that would do me? And now I’ve finally found someone who does understand but when I need them, they don’t show up! You know how important this was to me! You know how much it means to my family that they know the person that loves me!”

“Yes, I know, I know, it’s important to you, it’s important to them, my job is important, it’s all so freakin’ important and it’s too much! I can’t handle it! I am not good enough to do any of this!” His voice suddenly cleared up as he started to shout. Patton watched sorrowfully as his partner broke down in front of him. “I’m not good enough for you or your family, Pat. My dad was a drunk. My mom was a junkie. Hell, maybe I’m a drunk too. It’s in my blood! It’s who I am! I am made…from bad blood. So…you’re better off, your family is better off…”

Patton swallowed thickly, gathering up the courage to battle Virgil’s negative thoughts. “You think I’m better off.”

“Yeah!” Virgil flailed his arms dangerously.

“Without you.”

“Yeah, Pat, that’s what I said!”

“I’m sorry but…that! Is a damn lie!”

A sudden gasp sucked up all the air between them. “You-you never curse, Patty…” Virgil stumbled again as Patton took the hand free of roses in both of his.

“Virgil…you are good enough. You are so good. To me, to your patients. Your past will always be your past, sure, but it doesn’t define everything about you. In fact, it’s part of what’s made you so good and kind and loving: because you’ve suffered unimaginable pain and you want to protect others from ever feeling that way. I just wanted you to share that kindness with my family, that’s all.”

Virgil stared into middle space, eyes shining. “I’m good?”

Patton chuckled lightly. “Yeah, Virge. Of course you are. You know that.”

“Yeah…yeah, you’re right. I am good…I’m good. I’m good!” Virgil suddenly took off past Patton, through the open door…and right into the kitchen where Patton’s parents were still cleaning. Patton was hot on his heels but not fast enough to stop him.

“Hey! You guys! Patton’s family!” Larry and Dot whirled around at the same time, both wearing expressions of equal parts anger and confusion.

“Oh, geez,” Patton mumbled.

“Oh, now you show up. You listen to me,” his father growled, launching forward. Dot just barely held him back in time.

“Larry, no! You just calm down!” Dot turned to Virgil, brow furrowed in disappointment. “What are you doing here? Why bother coming now?”

“Look, I know you’re probably thinking all sorts of terrible shit about me right now! I showed up wicked late. I’m drunk. And I’m wearing all black so you probably think I’m some child of darkness and the truth is…I am. I don’t get family, like, at all. My family was super messed up, my childhood was insanity. I don’t know what it’s like to have parents like you. ​But I do know what it’s like to be loved. And even though sometimes I’m really shitty at showing it, I also know what it is to love someone and that is because…of your son. I love your son. A lot. A whole heck of a lot and because I love him…I wanna get to know you. Maybe then I’ll finally get what family is, you know? If…if you don’t hate me, that is.”

Nobody dared to move and break the palpable tension in the room. Every muscle in Patton’s legs twitched but he forced himself to stay still. Virgil had to face this on his own. The two parents exchanged a brief look, one that implied a seemingly secret communication. As if taking a cue from a director, Larry began to slowly walk forward towards the shuddering trauma surgeon.

“Oh God, are you gonna punch me out?” Virgil was terrified.

“What? No! I was gonna offer you a seat and some water. You look like you need to sit down, son.”

Virgil eyes shone for the second time that night. “Son?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Have you eaten, dear? We still have some pasta left. You should have some food and water and then you should get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning. Ooh, we should go for a pancake breakfast! That would be nice!”

“Or we could just make pancakes here, Dottie dearest!”

“Oh, don’t be so cheap, Larry, this is a special occasion! We’re expanding our family!”

Patton walked over from the hallway and collapsed at the table across from Virgil, both doctors too stunned to mind the gentle bickering of Larry and Dot over breakfast plans.

“I cannot believe that worked,” Virgil mumbled. Patton gently laid his hand over the shocked surgeon’s, a loving smile lighting up his face.

“I can.”

****

“It was the third year of my residency. I was the resident on call that night and after already having been at the hospital for a coronary revascularization that took hours, I was paged. I hadn’t even left yet but a massive apartment fire broke out and they needed hands. People came flooding in, the unit was packed; it was typical trauma madness. I was working on a 40-year-old man. He had what looked like minor injuries, a couple broken ribs, a head laceration, minor burns. I checked his airway, did an examination, stitched his head wound and moved on to the next patient. Three hours later, my attending was telling me that he was dead. He had a brain bleed and by the time we finally caught it, it was too late.” Logan stopped himself briefly, clearing his throat and letting out a choked sob.

Roman didn’t dare interrupt.

“My attending told me that he was a single father and the injuries he sustained were from pulling his two daughters out of the fire. He then said…that this man absolutely would have had a chance if I had bothered to order a head CT when I first saw him but because I was careless and failed to follow protocol, he was dead. He asked why I didn’t order the scan and I had to tell him the truth. I simply…forgot. It was shameful, I know but I was exhausted and rushed and I just…forgot. God, he was furious.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” The neurosurgeon’s voice was soft and tentative.

“I didn’t want you to think I was weak. I didn’t want you to see…how failure follows me everywhere I go.”

“That’s not true.” Logan went on as if he didn’t even hear him speak.

“My attending then forced me to deliver the news to his two young children. He called it a learning experience. He said it would make me stronger, more careful.” Logan chuckled bitterly. “I guess he was wrong. After I informed the family, I left the hospital with my prescription pad and drove straight to a 24-hour pharmacy. It’s funny. I picked up the drugs because I wanted to erase that night from my memory but…I’ve never forgotten it. And it happens every time. I fall into the trap of thinking the drugs will mask the pain but it’s still there.”

“Logan…you were a resident. You were young and inexperienced, you’re bound to make mistakes. God knows I did.”

“But I am not supposed to!” Dr. Picani leaned in.

“Why, Logan? Why can’t you make mistakes?”

“Because the mistakes we make cost people their lives.”

“What else?” Roman prodded.

“What?”

“No, we all have that responsibility as doctors. And we all fall short at times, but it doesn’t break us like it broke you. So what else is there?”

Logan struggled to find his words. “My…mother was not…understanding when it came to failure. She had…high standards.”

“About?” “Everything. From my performance in school to how I should dress to how I should behave, about everything. And if I did not meet those standards, she was…unkind.”

Roman closed his eyes. “Did she hit you?”

“Never. But she did…other things. Denied me food. Locked me in closets and screamed at me to study. So many nights I fell asleep in the linen closet on a textbook with a dead flashlight in my hand. One time, I failed a test and the teacher called her about it. Before I got home…she had the locks changed. I slept at a friend’s home for the rest of that week until she finally gave me a new set of keys.” Logan rattled off his list of horrors in a detached manner, as if he was reciting a grocery list instead of recounting the most painful memories of his life. Roman didn’t dare to move or speak. He simply held Logan’s hand until he suddenly made eye contact with him, terror and pain clouding his eyes.

“Don’t you see now, Roman? How it was so easy for me to believe David Bacall’s words? I’ve heard them my whole life.” Roman had to clear his throat before he could talk again.

“Well, then…everything you’ve heard your entire life is wrong.” Without warning, the cardiac surgeon crumpled into Roman’s chest, clinging to him for dear life as he cried. “You are not a failure. No matter what mistakes you’ve made, you are still a good person. You are worthy of love. Give yourself room to be human, darling. I’m here, I can help you through it. It’s okay, Logan. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

****

“Virge. Virge, wake up.”

“Mmm, noooo. It hurts to wake up.”

“Hmm, I bet, that’s what happens when you drink yourself silly. How much did you have anyway?”

“You know that bottle of rum we split when we dressed up as pirates for Halloween?”

“Yeah…oh, Virgil, no.”

“Yep, it’s gone. Along with my dignity.”

“Nonsense. My father actually appreciated your blunt honesty. And my mother found you quite charming. They are concerned though that you’re doing…okay.”

Virgil thought for a moment. “Maybe I’m not as great as I thought I was. But I still have you so I’m pretty good.”

Patton smiled, running his fingers through Virgil’s hair. “Still, I think we should check in with Nate. Just to make sure we’re on a healthy track.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“And no more drinking alone.”

“No more drinking period, this is awful.”

“Aww. You know the best cure for a hangover? Pancakes and friendly conversation! Come on, Sailor Jerry, let’s get up.”

“Ugh, no alcohol references, please.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!...Morgan…”

“You hate me.”

“I love you.”

****

“Roman? Whatcha thinkin’ there, slugger?” Dr. Picani’s brow was knitted tight with concern.

“I just…don’t know how we move forward together now, Logan.”

“Wh-what?”

“I still want to, of course! It’s just…if failure is a trigger for you then how can I ever feel safe expressing how I feel when I’ve been hurt? Or when I’ve hurt you? Because it’s going to happen. We’re human, we’re going to fail each other. But I can’t have you going and hurting yourself because things fell apart. I won’t be in a relationship like that, I love you too much to put you through that.”

“Well, now, hold on here, Roman,” Dr. Picani chimed in, “keep in mind that Logan’s recovery is ultimately Logan’s responsibility. You can support him, sure thing, but managing his feelings and his reactions to those feelings? That’s on him. You know that, right, Logan?”

“Absolutely. That’s what being here has done for me. I have plenty of coping skills at my disposal to navigate difficult emotions. Other than using drugs, of course.”

“That being said, Roman brings up a good point: how does Rolo move forward? I think the best way to ensure that your relation-ship stays afloat is with open and honest communication! Logan, you need to make sure that you’re talking to Roman honestly about your feelings which means first talking honestly to yourself about them. Own your emotions and don’t be scared to let them out! Look at all the things you opened up about today. Is Roman rejecting you? No. He’s right here, willing to stay with you through this.” Logan looked at his partner, realization dawning.

“And Roman, you need to create a safe space for Logan to heal by letting him go at his own pace. You can’t push him to be vulnerable. Healing can’t be forced, otherwise it’s not real healing. Don’t underestimate his strength. It takes a lot to push him towards wanting to use. And one other thing…you need to forgive him. He knows he hasn’t been fair to you but he’s willing to make the commitment to showing you that things will be different now. Forgive him and trust that he’ll come to you.”

“That’s actually what I was going to say earlier. I thought that admitting that I recognize how I’ve hurt you and apologizing would be what you needed to hear. I didn’t anticipate you needing to know why it happened.”

“You don’t need to apologize anymore, Logan. You’ve felt guilty for enough, far more than you ever should have. And my anger earlier was misplaced. I’m not angry with you, I’m angry at the situation. I’m angry that someone would ever think to willfully hurt someone as wonderful as you.  And I was hurt that you didn’t tell me why you were hurting so much, especially after what we went through together. I haven’t always been fair to you either and I’ve tried so hard to make up for it. Being shut out…it made me think that you didn’t trust me, and that thought was…so painful. So, I lashed out. And I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that. You’re trying.”

Logan gently took Roman’s hands into his own. “As are you.”

Dr. Picani smiled fondly at the new development between the two surgeons. “Hey guys…you’re sitting next to each other now.” Both men looked down simultaneously to their now touching thighs, exchanging hesitant but sweet smiles at each other when they looked up. “You know, I’m gonna go ahead and prescribe one more thing for you two.”

“What would that would be, Dr. Picani?”

“Simple: Go on a date. Once Logan comes home and you two feel ready, go out! Have fun with each other! Laugh, talk about anything other than therapy or work. Remember what it was like to fall in love with each other. You two have been through so much and you’ve come out on the other side together. Go celebrate that! Celebrate your lives.”

“That sounds…most reasonable. We…we can do that.” Roman nodded in agreement.

“Splendid! Welp, that’s all folks! Gotta run to the next session! And I mean literally run, it’s all the way on the other side of campus.”

“Porky Pig!” Roman blurted out.

“Nice catch of the reference, Dr. Roman Empire. Very clever. Now, Logan, I’ll see you in a few days and you two cool cats back here next week! Okay, shoo, I wasn’t kidding about needing to run.”

“Oh, well, we’ll be going then.” Logan rushed out of the door, leaving Roman to pause and turn to the cheerful therapist. “Doctor?”

“Yes, Roman?”

“I, uh, I’m…thank you.” Dr. Picani simply nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips. Roman nodded back before joining his partner in the hallway.

“Well then! Now that we’re done with that, shall we grab that lunch we discussed earlier?”

Logan grinned earnestly. “Sure. I think I know a place.”

[whogoesthere-cleveland-blog]

The Lake House Restaurant

Where are we?

Lake House Restaurant (or Café, depending on who you ask)

11850 Edgewater Dr., Lakewood, OH 44107

http://www.lakehousecafe.org

Why haven’t we been here before?

Susan: OK, in full disclosure, we have. A couple of years ago when “Who Goes There?” was in its nascent stages, Shannon and I went to ‘practice restaurants,’ one of which was Lake House. Our memories are hazy and few, but there are a couple of definite stand outs. There’s an open kitchen and in it on a shelf up high was a mysterious 5 gallon tub of brown that apparently required no refrigeration. We’re still vexed as to what it could have been: BBQ sauce? Gravy? Chocolate puddin’? Though I scanned the menu, nothing seemed to correlate with this tub of brown. It wasn’t there when we returned this go around, which is probably great for health code adherence, but bad for comedy. I think I got the tuna fish sandwich or grilled cheese last time.  It doesn’t matter.

I also remember there being a table of about a dozen lesbians and separately, at least one transgendered person wearing a very bushy lilac colored coat. I thought at the time, “Wow! This place must be very LBGTQ friendly.” However, this latest visit was seemingly hetero-normative.

Shannon: The first time I dined at the Lake House Restaurant Cafe I was talked into ordering the Lake Erie Perch special by, I think, the same server we had for this current visit. I’ll admit, the Lake Erie perch was special, just not in a particularly appetizing way. I forced down a few bites to make it seem to the server like I was one satisfied customer, but after a logical progression of time, requested a to-go container and promised myself I would eat the rest of the fish ‘a little later.’ I convinced myself that, no, that perch will not have died in vain because of me. Sadly I had errands to run that afternoon and after our freshwater friend had been adding its unmistakable stank to the interior of my car, I ultimately decided to deposit the leftovers into a trash bin outside the Detroit Avenue/Lear Road Drug Mart Food Fair. My apologies to the staff of Drug Mart and to the fish — I do think of you often, and truly meant no disrespect.

What’s it like inside?

Shannon: The interior reminds me of the kind of restaurant you might find on the grounds of the Quality Court Motel in Jellico, Tennessee in the late 70s. It has a helter-skelter interior design plan, with two tables reserved solely for restaurant operations —- the first displaying a disorganized hodge-podge of papers, receipts, a spiral ledger, pencils and pens, and an adding machine, and seemed to serve as some sort of makeshift accounting station; the second, although giving off the aesthetic vibe of a Warhol screen print, was being used as a condiment re-stocking station. There are maybe 15 tables in the joint. It seemed an impolitic decision to take that kind of real estate off the market on a busy Sunday morning and leave customers waiting in a congested knot just inside the front door. You always have the feeling you are in somebody’s way at The Lake House Restaurant Cafe. Even after you are seated. They truly need an expert to come in and feng-shui the hell out of this place. Another mysterious phenomenon is, you also always get an eerie feeling that you are being watched. I’m not exactly sure why, but it could have something to do with the oddly placed two-way mirror overlooking the entire dining area. I shouldn’t take it personally, though. They may just be keeping a cautious eye on the wait staff.

Susan: My hypothesis was that the two way mirror housed food eating fetishists on the other side who pay high dollar to ogle at the omelet ingesting masses whilst getting their rocks off.  However, I think we have to talk about the outside first. The only acknowledgement of a restaurant even being there is this tiny, chintzy realtor’s type sign.

I truly thought they would have upgraded in the years since we had been, but I’m fairly certain it’s the same one. This is a marketing fail of biblical proportions. The apartment building in which it is housed reminds me of Kent State’s brutalist brick box dormitories circa ’84. These would have the cafeteria stationed in the bottom floor, just like the Lake House.

The Lake House Restaurant boasts a stunning open water view…

and also there’s Lake Erie.

There are options to dine “al fresco” and about 500 yards away; a sad, misplaced garbage can for your disposal of leftovers, but by the time you make the hike over, you’ll probably begin to feel peckish again. 

There was one point during our visit when I had to escort a millipede outside. I don’t know how it got in, but I think it’s safe to say it used the door. Anyway, we couldn’t bear to stand idle as it slowly made its way towards us and likewise impending doom. There was so much foot traffic; it was bound to get squished right before us and that’s gonna be a brunch ruiner right there, dear readers. Anyway, I coaxed it into a napkin and set it outside. This incident may or may not reflect on the overall cleanliness of the Lake House Restaurant. I don’t want to judge based upon that one occurrence. Nature gets inside sometimes. That’s just a fact of life and has been since the dawn of man. Let’s be thankful it wasn’t a saber tooth tiger who is, from my limited understanding, not so easily coaxed outside on a napkin.

Who works here?

Susan:  Well, the short answer is: parolees. Confidence men, grifters, scammers, a bait and switch type of character, if you catch my drift. OK, so we don’t actually have any proof of the above claim, but it just seemed like something was amiss in their staffing. Their “.org” status of their website lends further credence to my suspicion that it’s a work release program. Our waiter, being an expert on getting one over, was big on up selling without mentioning the additional cost. Didn’t we want the exceedingly popular Spinach Special (that was like $2.50 more than the regular spinach omelet)?

Didn’t we want crispy onions on our hash browns (which was like $2 more)?    Yes we want crispy onions! What do we look like? Advocates of the anti-delicious?!  I shall beg your pardon, Sir! We are most definitely not! In fact, we want crispy onions on ALL the things!

Shannon:  It was great to see that Chef from South Park was handling the kitchen. That fact, combined with the conspicuously absent tub of brown sauce, gave me a certain confidence that I hadn’t felt about the place until that moment.

Can you eat the food without fear of taint?

Susan:  Yes! Yes! A resounding yes! It was fudgin’ delicious! We actually couldn’t believe it.  I mean let’s face it, in large part it was because of the crispy onions. Check it out. Looks pretty good, eh?

Shannon: Hell yes! I got the spinach feta omelet which was fantastic; and although I was coerced into ordering the home fries with crispy onions in place of the tomato and fruit salad that traditionally comes with the meal, it was well-worth the extra cost. I’m convinced that somewhere within that magical spuds and onion combo, I actually detected the elusive umami flavor. But, like many a greasy spoon, they need to invest in better coffee. Their menu actually touts specialty alcoholic brunch drinks, so the next time I go — which you can bet will be soon — I may jettison the java altogether in favor of a Lakeside Lemonade (vodka, lemonade, cucumber slices). Also, thanks to some aggressively pro-active marketing on their website’s home page, I was already able to secure my reservations for Mother’s Day Brunch. http://www.lakehousecafe.org

Would they notice if you brought a cat in a Baby Bjorn here?

Susan: Yeah, definitely. We were sat smack dab in the center and it’s really not a place for discretion, whimsy, hoopla, or flights of fancy. We’re dealing with riffraff that (hypothetically) just gotta outta the clink here. You think they wanna see some god damned pussycat in a god damned sling, sittin’ in a fucking RESTAURANT like it’s PEOPLE!? That shit right there will make them break their probation when they gotta clock out on somebody (us).  No, I do not want to be the cause that the newly rehabilitated must return to the hoosegow and furthermore, I would not put Neal at risk for bodily harm.

Shannon: There’s no way. In the first place, we weren’t seated at a booth, which is definitely the preferred location when trying to smuggle in a feline friend. Secondly, Neal has a sensitive stomach. One stolen bite of a wayward crispy onion and the whole place would be in the danger zone.

Susan: Indeed.

Who goes there?

Shannon: Tourist families who have Air BnB’d a condo in the Lake House believing it to be a lot closer to Cedar Point that it actually is; sullen, weak-chinned teens with Manic Panic hair and their apathetic mothers, and my friend Alison who told me not to post this review because she is worried that additional diners will find out about this hidden gem and ruin it for her.

Susan:  An eclectic mix of low rent after church goers, residents of that building and adjacent buildings, and an elderly couple that upon further investigation was not a couple at all but a mother with a frighteningly garish, clown-like make-up job and her likewise geriatric son that just appeared as a couple. You know, totally normal, not weird at all. As an aside, I asked a millennial type coworker who resides on Edgewater if she had been to the Lake House Café. And she repeated. “Lake House….. It’s a restaurant.”  Again, it was all a statement. Not a question, not an inquiry, not a point of clarification, just a spot on descriptor. And no, she’d not been.

Would we go again?

Susan: For me, it’s a resounding yes, especially for breakfast. I literally just got done eating lunch elsewhere and am still sitting at said establishment, but looking at the pictures from the Lake House make me want to pack up and head over there for a side of crispy onions.

Shannon: Yes! Lake House Restaurant is the best place in Northeast Ohio to enjoy a modestly-priced lacustrine prandial. As an added bonus, it’s in such close proximity to my apartment that I walked there in ten minutes flat. This allowed me to ‘get my steps in’ as today’s fitness-minded folks say, before gorging on fried onions and returning home for a three-hour nap.

Philosophical Stance:

Susan: Relativists

Shannon: Accidentalists

Famous TV or Movie Characters You Might See Here?

Susan: Kip and Henry from Bosom Buddies. Not only does the Lake House Restaurant seem friendly to the Trans community, but there’s also an inexpensive apartment building upstairs (which for these purposes, I will assume is a strictly female only residence).

Shannon: This is the kind of place where you’d witness a hangdog Mel Sharples showing up, sailor hat in hand, begging Flo to come back to work at the Diner. Flo would be stubborn and reluctant at first, sure, because she ‘loves’ her new job, but at Mel’s agreement to a fifty cent raise, Flo would cast her apron to the ground and tell Lake House management that they can “Kiss my grits!”

 The Lake House Restaurant Café is open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Monday – Closed

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday: 8 am – 2:30 pm & 5 pm – 8 pm

Friday & Saturday: 8 am – 2:30 pm & 5 pm – 9 PM

Sunday: 8 am – 2:30 pm

[lesphantom]

FFXV A Retelling-ish Chapter 16

~~~~

FFXV A Retelling-ish 

Chapter 16

~~

The next morning, I awoke to an empty bed.  I sighed and I got up.  I changed my clothes and I put my dirty ones in my backpack.  I sighed again tossing my backpack over my shoulder.  I opened the hotel room door and I headed out.  I saw that the Regalia was gone.  I sighed again and I headed toward Caem.

“Mina! Wait up, love!” came a voice.

I spun around and I saw Ignis grinning at me.  I raised a brow.  I was in shock.  He kissed my cheek once he reached me.  I gave him a quizzical look.

“Ready to go?”

“Wait a minute…  Why aren’t you driving the Regalia?”

“There are more important things in my life right now...”

“But Noct...”

“..Is a fine driver when he wants to be.  He can handle this love.”

“So I’ve got you...” I said with a smile.

“Yep!” Ignis said.

“Then let’s go, handsome.”

Ignis nodded.  “I picked up a few granola bars and various other things to snack on if we get a bit peckish.”

“Damn, you’re efficient!”

He grinned.  “It’s a gift, love.  C’mon.”

He grabbed my hand and we started off.  We fought the occasional daemon horde until we reached a bridge.  Ignis grinned and he pulled me over toward the railing.

“It’s gorgeous out there isn’t it?” Ignis said.

“Yeah, it is.” I said.

He smiled and he pulled out his phone.  “I’m no Prompto, but I need a few pictures of this view.”

I chuckled.  “Take as many as you want.”

He snapped a few pictures and then he pulled me to him for a few selfies.  I laughed against him.  His smile brightened and he took a few more selfies with me before stowing his phone away.

“I love your smile in these, love.”

“Can’t help it when I’m with you..” I said.

He blushed and he took my hand once more as we headed off.  We fought more and more daemons.  Night seemed to fall more quickly.  Ignis looked around concerned for a bit.

“Hey love?”

“Yeah?”

“About how far are we from Caem?”

“About… a two hour walk… why?”

“I’m thinking about making camp for the night since it’s getting dark.”

“Fair enough.  But where?”

“Exactly love...”

“Well shit.”

“I wish we had the foresight to grab a tent.”

“Maybe if we found a haven...”

“Or a map...”

“Ah, damn!”

“So looks like we sleep in shifts then...”

“God dammit...”

“I second that..”

“Unless we kept walking?”

“The daemons are stronger at night love.”

“Yeah. Good point.” I said.

“So I believe a haven would be our best bet.  That way we’ll be able to get some rest without having to sleep in shifts.” Ignis said.

“Now we just need to find a haven.” I said.

“Yes. But don’t fret love.  I believe that there is one close by.”

“I hope so.”

We began walking once again.  Twenty five minutes later we came across a small rock.  Ignis pointed to the runes painted on it.  They were glowing a bright blue.  I raised an eyebrow.

“There’s our haven.  Those runes protect the havens.  The previous kings place the runes to repel the daemons.”

“Huh. The more you know...”

“As long as Noct is alive the runes will continue to glow and offer the previous kings’ protection.  Noct is the last of the line of Lucis.”

“So if Noct is killed the line dies.  And all of the havens are daemon fodder.”

“Precisely.” said Ignis.  “Which is why I try to protect him as much as I can.”

We approached the haven and found it to be vacant.  Ignis let out a sigh of relief.  He knelt down and he began building a small fire.  He strategically placed some small logs near the fire and he sat down, pulling out his notebook.

“What would you like for dinner, my love?” Ignis asked.

“What do we have?”

“Well.. we still have a few energy bars.  I also had the foresight to grab some garula steaks from the mart before we left Lestallum.  It’s in my bag in a cooler.  It may taste like shit though.  I have no form of seasoning.”

“Garula steak skewers?  There’s gotta be a stick or two around here.” I said.

“Excellent idea, love.” said Ignis.

“I’ll go grab some--”

“Nope.”

“Ignis...”

“Mina...”

“Ugh… fine!”

Ignis grinned at me.  He gave me a kiss on the cheek and he walked over to a nearby tree.  He snapped off two small branches and he brought them back up to the fire.  He then rummaged through a small bag that I never realized he had.  He pulled out a small cooler.  He grabbed a stick and he jammed to steak pieces on it, roasting it over the fire. The fire crackled up to meet the raw meat and Ignis looked pleased.

“Damn, you’re good at that.”

Ignis grinned.  “Thank you, love.”

“You’re welcome, baby.”

I continued watching him cook and he shot me a smile.  “Love, it’s ready.”

I smiled and he handed me the stick.  He filled another stick with the steak and he cooked another one.  I waited for his to be done before I started to eat mine.  Ignis looked at me as he settled back with his skewer.

“You could have eaten, love...”

“I was always taught that it was rude to eat in front of someone that wasn’t.”

Ignis smiled.  “Well then let’s eat, love.”

We ate quickly.  Ignis took my stick after I was finished.  He tossed it into the fire.  I chuckled and I leaned my head on his shoulder.  He smiled.  

“Hi there love.”

“Hi… Dinner was great.” I said.

Ignis scoffed.  “It needed a lot of seasoning.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.”

He looked at me.  “I have to be.”

“Why?”

“Because I know I can do better...” Ignis said.

“Baby..”

“I know...” Ignis said with a sigh.

I kissed him as hard as I could.  Ignis kissed me back.  I grinned into the kiss.  He broke away and he looked into my eyes.  He gently ran his thumb along my cheek.  I smiled.

“You’re so beautiful, love...”

I blushed.  “Iggy...”

He smiled.  “You are...”

I chuckled.  “Bed time?”

He laughed.  “Is it that obvious that I’m tired?”

“Yeah… a bit, darlin’.  Plus, you’re getting that glassy look….”

Ignis sighed and he settled himself down on my lap.  He stretched his legs out and he looked up at me from my lap.  He smiled and he tucked another errant strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Darling?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you sing to me again?”

“Yep. No problems there.   What do you wanna hear?”

“A song that makes you think of us...”

“Mr. Sentimental today huh?”

“Yes… I suppose I am...”

“Get comfortable, handsome.”

He smiled and he scooted down a bit more so he was lying across my leg. He handed me his glasses and he took my free hand in his.  I grinned and I set his glasses next to me.  I stroked his cheek and his eyes closed.

Never knew I could feel like this

Like I’ve never seen the sky before.

Want to vanish inside your kiss

Every day I love you more and more…

Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing

Telling me to give you everything

Seasons may change, winger to spring

But I love you until the end of time.

Come what may

Come what may

Come what may

Come what may

I will love you until my dying day

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace

Suddenly my life doesn’t seem such a waste

It all revolves around you.

And there’s no mountain too high

No river to wide

Sing out this song and I’ll be there by your side

Storm clouds may gather

And stars may collide

But I love you

Until the end of time.

Come what may

Come what may

I will love you until my dying day.

Oh come what may come what may

I will love you oh I will love you

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Come what may

Come what may

I will love you until my dying day.

Ignis was snoring softly in my lap.  I grinned at him.  His hand was still holding mine but it was way looser.  I slid my hand out and Ignis made a whining noise.  I chuckled.  I gently moved my leg so Ignis was resting near the ground.  I shoved my backpack under his head and I scooted around to the other side.  I lay down, listening to Ignis’s snoring and the crackling of the campfire.  Within minutes, I was asleep.  I awoke the next morning to Ignis absently stroking my hair as he read something on his smartphone.

“Morning...”

“Good morning, love.”

“How did you sleep?”

“I’ve slept better, but that’s not really our fault.”

“Yeah. I agree.”

He handed me one of the granola bars.  “Breakfast.”

“Thanks honey.” I said.

I sat up and I chewed on the granola bar.  Ignis let out a tired sigh. I leaned my head against him.  He smiled.

“Hey, now...”

“You still seem tired, babe.”

“I am.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“Two hours.”

“Baby...”

“I’m ok, love.  Let’s go to Caem.”

“If you’re sure….”

“I am.”

“Alright...”

I stood up and I stretched a bit.  Ignis got to his feet as well and he handed me my backpack.  I shot him a smile.  He grinned back at me and he began heading to the road once more.  I followed closely behind.  We walked to a gas station outside of Caem.  Ignis excused himself and he headed toward the bathroom.  I browsed the store.

“You’re Rachel and Jake’s girl...” came a voice.

A brown haired young man stood staring at me.  His big chocolate brown eyes sparkled as he spoke.  His face broke into a grin.  I eyed him warily.

“Um… yeah...”

“Mina, it’s Oliver...”

I stared for a moment.  “Holy shit!!!  OLLIE!!!”

He grinned at me.  “You’re lookin’ good kid!”

“Thanks man!  God I haven’t seen you in ages!  How’s life?”

“Boring and dull since you left, beautiful.” Oliver said, giving me a grin.

“Aww. Well, I’m back for a few days.  At least until I leave for Altissia.”

“Shit, you’re going to Altissia?”

“Yep. With my boyfriend and his entourage.”

“Boyfriend huh?”

“Yep. He’s a real sweetheart.  I’m lucky to have him.”

“Mina...”

“Ollie...”

He chuckled.  “Hey, this boyfriend you have… Does he have any single guy friends that might… ya’ know...”

“OLIVER!”

“What?! I had to try...”

“Oy… What am I gonna do with you, boy...”

“Love me?”

“Nope.”

“HEY!”

I laughed.  Ignis joined us a moment later.  He eyed Oliver cautiously and he grabbed my hand protectively.  I gave his hand a squeeze and I grinned up at him.

“Oliver, this is Ignis.  Ignis, this is Oliver McMahon.  He’s an old friend of mine.”

“I’m two years younger… I’m not old like you are….”

“Ollie!” I said.

“Pleasure...” Ignis forced out, eying Oliver.

“Y’all headin’ to Caem?” Oliver said.

“Yes...” Ignis said.

“Awesome sauce!!!” Oliver said.

Ignis raised a brow.  I shook my head.  I lightly hit Oliver on the arm. Oliver grinned back at me.  

“Ollie, Harmy told me she’s gonna be in Caem too.  You headin’ back that way?”

“Hey, someone’s gotta watch Harmy’s back.  You know how she is Min.”

“Shit yeah...”

“Holdin’ her back from killin’ Steve is hard work...”

I sighed.  “Sorry dude.  I don’t ask her to try and kill him.  BUT it is a perk...”

Oliver laughed.  “True… He is an ass...”

“I sense a but in there...”

Oliver sighed.  “Your brother’s hot as hell, ok?”

“And very straight...”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah...”

Ignis looked unbelievably confused.  I chuckled.  I kissed his cheek and he looked at me, fear in his eyes.  

“Love, what’s going on?”

I laughed.  “Baby, Ollie’s gay.  Harmy, Ollie and myself made the rounds at the bars and stuff when I was younger.”

“Singing?” Ignis said.

“Among other things….” said Oliver.

“Just because you’re a whore doesn’t mean I was… or am...”

Oliver laughed.  “Yeah, yeah…   I had to work for my free drinks...”

I laughed.  “Ollie, you got more free drinks than Harmy and I combined.”

“Psh...”

“Don’t psh me Oliver Michael!”

“PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

“You’re lucky I like you...”

“Ha ha!  You two want a lift?  It’s like five minutes but...”

“What do you say, Iggy?”

“Sure...” said Ignis, hesitantly.

“Your man can sit up front with me...” Oliver said with a wink.

“Really, dude?” I said.

“My car, my rules.”  Oliver said.

Ignis’s eyes widened.  “I’m going to die aren’t I?”

I laughed.  “No babe.  He’ll be good or I’ll castrate him.”

“Eep!” said Oliver.

“Be good.” I said to Oliver.

“Yes, ma’am.” Oliver said.

“And you...” I said, turning to Ignis.  “Relax…  He won’t bite… much.”

Ignis gave me a small smile.  “I love you.”

“’Love you too.”

“Come on.  Let’s go.”

I laughed as I saw Oliver’s beat up mini van.  I nudged Oliver’s shoulder and he grinned back at me.

“I took my driver’s test in this POS.” I said.

“It is not a POS!  It’s an antiquated piece of equipment...” Oliver said.

“So… piece of shit.” Ignis said with a grin.

“Ha ha!  That’s my man!” I said.

“The um… Middle seat kinda.. um...”

“Oliver what did you do to the middle seat?”

“Well.. a “friend” of mine and I kinda… broke it...”

“OLIVER! Were you banging in the car?!”

“Maybe...”

“How the fuck do you break an entire bench seat?”

“Um...”

“Oliver…..”

“heheheheh.”

“Never mind.  I don’t wanna know.  I reeeeally don’t wanna know...” I said.

Ignis chuckled.  “It’s probably better that you don’t, darling.  Let Oliver have his kinks...”

“I like him.” said Oliver.

“He’s mine, McMahon…  Mine!”

Ignis laughed.  “Possessive much, love?”

“Uh… yeah…”

“Mina, he is kinda cute...”

“Do I have to say it again, Oliver?”

Oliver laughed.  “No, I got it… I got it.  Get in so we can go.”

We piled into the car.  I settled myself in the only seat in the back and I shook my head.  I couldn’t hear what Oliver and Ignis were talking about in the front seat, but Ignis was laughing.  That wasn’t good.  We arrived and I slid the door open.  

“So! Are you staying at your old house?” Oliver said.

“Possibly. If Steven didn’t trash the fuck out of it.” I said.

“He probably did, knowing that ass hole…”

“Guess I’ll find out...” I said.

“You nervous?”  Oliver said.

“Yep…” I said.

“Don’t be nervous.  You’ve got this...”  Oliver said, touching my shoulders.

“Thanks...”

“So love, shall we?” Ignis said.

“Yeah, I think we’d better...” I said.

Ignis grinned at me and he held out his arm.  I waved good bye to Oliver and I took a deep breath.  Ignis held my hand as we approached Iris who was waiting outside the safe house.  

“Hey!!” Iris said.

“Hello, Iris!” I said, smiling at her.

“Where is everyone?” Ignis said.

“Noct and Prompto are at the lighthouse with Talcott.  Gladdy.. left.  He said he had personal business to attend to.”

My heart sank a bit.  “I’ll.. be up the hill.”

“Mina..” Iris said.

“That’s where my old house is.”

“Oh. Ok then!” Iris said.  “Have fun.”

“Would you like to be alone, love?” Ignis said.

“...no. Can you come with me please?” I said.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Just emotional...”

“I’ll be there.”

I nodded and Ignis and I began walking up the hill.  I had made this trek a zillion times.  My heart was in my throat.  Ignis jogged up next to me.  His hand found mine.  I squeezed his hand tightly.

“Love… are you...”

“I’m… I’m...”

“Honey, look at me.”

I looked at him.  Fear was evident in his eyes.  Ignis pulled me to him.  I buried my head in his chest.  I inhaled his cologne and it calmed me down.  He rubbed my back.

“Darling, it’s going to be ok… I’ll be right there with you...”

“Thank you, Ignis...”

He grinned and he kissed me on the cheek.  “Let’s go love.”

We walked to the top of the hill.  Ignis gasped when he saw the house. It was a small log cabin overlooking the sea.  It was small on the outside but on the inside, it was huge.  I gently pushed open the front door.   It wasn’t too messy.  

As we walked in, we were in the living room.  The couches and the television were against either wall. We moved into the medium sized kitchen.  Ignis leaned against the island.  He gave me a smile as he looked around.

“I’d kill for a kitchen like this, love.”

“Dad loved to cook.  Just like you...”

“I love how open this is though...”

“I know right?  Dad always said he wanted to be a part of whatever was going on.    He designed the kitchen and living room to be open so he could watch us grow up...”

Ignis gave me a smile.  “It’s gorgeous, love.”

I pulled Ignis to the left of where we walked in.  There were three doors.  I opened the right most door.  Pictures of cars and bikini clad women littered the walls.  I grinned.

“This was Steve and Chris’s room.  Steve moved out for a few months and Chris went crazy with the pictures of the women.  He never regretted it.  Steve’s face was entirely too priceless when he came home to that.”

“I bet.”

“I miss my brother...”

“Steve?”

“No.. HELL no.  Chris...”

“Oh...”

“He and I used to drive Steve crazy on purpose.  He used to call us the daemon duo.”

“Maybe that’s why Steve hates you now...”

“Nah. After Chris died, I apologized and things were decent between us until Steve met Trisha.”

“Trisha was a bad influence?”

“Not at first…  Trisha and I never hit it off.  My parents didn’t like her and she didn’t like them.  But my parents respected Steve’s choice.  After my parents died, she flat out told me that she was only with Steve for the money. I guess they fell in love through that though...”

“So he spent your inheritance on her?”

“Among other things...”

“Damn.”

“So yeah.  This is the boys’ room.”

“Where’s your room, love?”

“Across the hall.”

I stepped behind him and I opened the door.  I stepped inside and I waited for Ignis to enter.  I saw him gawking at some of the pictures that were littering my walls.  I grinned.

“These drawings are amazing, Mina!”

“Thanks.”

“Did you do all of these?”

“Not all of ‘em.  Harmy drew the ones on the closet door.”

“Damn… I love the detail that has gone into each one.”

“Thanks. She’ll be happy to hear that too…  So!  This was my sanctuary.”

“I see...”

“Let’s move on...”

“Love?”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe.”

“I’m breathing...”

“No. Stop and breathe.  You look stressed.”

“I’m fine...”

“Mina...”

“Really, Iggy...”

He kissed me hard.  I made a shocked noise as he pushed me against the closed door.  He pulled away, shooting me a grin.  I chuckled a bit.

“Better?”

“No… but thanks for tryin...”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Do not.” said Ignis with a grin.

“Iggy?”

“Hmm?”

“If this is all we do in this room, I’m gonna be a little miffed...”

Ignis laughed.  “Love… I thought you’d never ask...”

He snatched me off the ground.  I squealed and he laughed.  He lay me gently on the bed and he nuzzled my neck.  He gently kissed his way down my body.  

“I love you… * kiss *  I love you…. * kiss * I love… * moan * you...” Ignis said.

“Iggy…?”

He pressed his lips to mine in a hungry needy kiss.  I ground my hips against his and I pulled him further toward me.  He moaned loudly. He tilted my lowered head up to meet his eyes.  They were clouded with lust.  I shot him a sexy smile.  He let out a moan.  

“Wait...”

“Mina…?”

“I have an idea..”

“Mmm.. Do tell, darling….”

“Well… how about… I ride you for a change...”

He threw his head back in a moan of pleasure.  “Please do, love.”

I grinned and I flipped him quickly on his back.  He grinned back at me.  Ignis slid his trousers off and I pulled at my own.  Ignis assisted me with my pants as I grinned back at him.

“So eager to get my pants off aren’t you...” I said with a grin.

“Oh, yes, my darling…  Otherwise there wouldn’t be a point...” Ignis whispered in my ear.

I shivered at how husky his voice was.  “Iggy… you could read me the phone book right now and I’d be fucking you before you reached the B’s...”

He chuckled.  “You gonna ride me or not, darling?”

“Patience, Ignis!  I may have to tie you up later...”

He let out a moan.  “Don’t get me started, love...”

“Ooooh. Someone likes the thought of being tied up...”

“Mmmhmmm...” Ignis said, chewing on his bottom lip.

I slid myself on him.  I moaned a bit.  Ignis grunted, holding back a moan of his own.  I ground my hips against his and he let out a cry of pleasure.  I gripped my headboard tightly as I slid in and out of him at a fast pace.  He moaned louder than I’d ever heard him moan. I felt a rush of absolute pleasure.  My arms were shaking.

“Love...” Ignis moaned.

“Iggy… I moaned. “Oh God, Iggy...”

His hands found my waist.  He held me tightly as I moved against him. Ignis’s eyes fluttered closed.  I went faster as he let out moan after moan.   I let out a whimpering moan.  Ignis’s eyes snapped open.

“Are you ok, love?”

“Uh huh...”

“You’re shaking...”

“I’m ok...”

He kissed me and I let out a moan.  Ignis let out a moan as my pace slowed.  His hands fell from my waist.  He gripped the fabric of my comforter tightly as he felt his orgasm hit.

“Mina… Mina… Fuck!  You feel so damn good, darling…. “

“Mmm… Ignis….” I moaned.

“Fuck… Fuck.. Mina….”

Ignis moaned loudly.  His knuckles were white on my comforter as the last of his orgasm filtered through his body.  I collapsed on top of him. Ignis kissed my forehead as he tried to breathe.

“Ignis?”

“Hmm?”

“You… good?”

“More than good.  You?”

“Tired...”

“Would you like a massage my love?”

“Mmmm… Just the thought of that sounds amazing...”

Ignis and I swapped places.  I lay face down on the bed, in a pile of pillows. He pushed my hair to one side of my head and he straddled my back.  The minute his hands touched my shoulders, I felt every ounce of tension leave my body.  His strong hands worked out knots that I had learned to live with.  All the while he was humming a soothing melody.  I felt my eyes grow heavy.  I let out a relaxed sigh and I let my eyes close.  I was out like a light a moment later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Ignis’s POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I heard Mina let out a light snore and I chuckled.  I turned onto my side and looked at her as she slept.  I smiled as I gently took her in.  Her olive skin was flawless against the white comforter.  Mina’s auburn hair was cascading freely down past her shoulders.  He lips were slightly parted as she breathed.  I sighed.

How did I get so lucky?  How did a woman like Mina fall for me?  I rolled over onto my back and I stared at the ceiling.  A woman like Mina deserved to be treated like a queen.

“Iggy….” Mina mumbled in her sleep.

“I’m here, love… shhh… Get some rest...”

“Mmmh.” Mina said.

I smiled.  My smile slowly faded as I thought about what Mina had been through.  Her brother, whom she was very close to, dies, her parents were killed, and her other brother, whom she doesn’t have a decent relationship with, is forced to take care of her.  And then, he leaves her for dead.  That still burned me.  As much as I tried to think I could control what I would probably say or do to Steve if I met him, I knew I would fly off the handle.

Mina rolled on her side, facing away from me.  I stroked her hair gently. She let out a happy noise.  I chuckled and I turned on my side.  I wrapped my arms around her and I pulled her close to me.  She cuddled into me and she was dead to the world after that.  I smiled and I closed my eyes.  I was asleep moments later.

[jenguerrero]

I love Pioneer Woman’s new book, The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Come and Get It!: Simple, Scrumptious Recipes for Crazy Busy Lives Well, I love all of her books. This one has the most wonderful Meatball Tortilla Soup in it. My youngest daughter had a second bowl right away, then asked me to make another pot of it for her thermos for school lunches. Yeah, we all thought it was *that* good. A huge thank you to Ree Drummond for letting me share the recipe with you! I added in the underlines where I drew lines in my book, showing which ingredients are grouped together when they’re thrown into the pool. You don’t write in your books?! But it makes cooking more relaxing. Turn that radio up!

My review of the book with my pics and thoughts on the dishes I tried is below the recipe. I’ve attached my reviews of her other books below that so you can see the pics and get a feel for what each book promises. Now, back to that delicious soup!

Meatball Tortilla Soup

Makes 8 Servings

To describe this delicious soup as merely a “delicious soup” is the understatement of the year! First of all, it’s so far beyond delicious! Flavorful, fabulous, and fantastic is more like it. And it’s really much more of a stew than a soup. A stew of wonderful texture and color, with an added bonus of yummy meatballs in every bowlful. You’ll love every bite! (And as an extra thrill: It freezes beautifully!)

Meatballs 1 pound ground beef ½ cup grated pepper jack cheese 2 tablespoons minced parsley 1 large egg, lightly beaten 2 garlic cloves, minced ½ teaspoon kosher salt ¼ teaspoon black pepper ¼ teaspoon ground cumin ¼ teaspoon chili powder ¼ cup seasoned breadcrumbs Juice of 1 lime

Soup 4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) butter ½ large onion, diced 3 cloves garlic, minced 2 ears of sweet corn, kernels sliced off (or 1 ½ cups frozen corn kernels 1 red bell pepper, seeded and finely diced 6 cups low sodium beef broth One 10 ounce can diced tomatoes and chiles (such as Rotel) 2 heaping tablespoons tomato paste ½ teaspoon kosher salt ¼ teaspoon chili powder ¼ teaspoon ground cumin One 14.5 ounce can black beans, drained and rinsed 6 corn tortillas, cut into strips

Fixins Sour cream Sliced avocado Grated pepper jack cheese Cilantro leaves

Combine all the meatball ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Shape the meat mixture into small balls (about 24 total) and refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Make the soup: In a heavy pot, heat 2 tablespoons of the butter over medium heat. Add one-third of the meatballs and lightly brown on all sides (they wont be cook through), then remove them to a plate. Repeat with the remaining meatballs!

Add the remaining 2 tablespoons butter to the pan and let it melt. Add the onion, garlic, corn, and bell pepper and cook, stirring, until softened, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the broth, the diced tomatoes and chiles, tomato paste, salt, chile powder, and cumin, and stir in. Bring it to a boil, then add the beans. Return the meatballs to the pot, cover, and simmer until the meatballs are cooked all the way through, 15 to 20 minutes. Just before serving, stir in the tortilla chips. Serve the soup with a dollop of sour cream, a slice of avocado, a little grated cheese, and a few cilantro leaves.

My review of the book…

The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Come and Get It!: Simple, Scrumptious Recipes for Crazy Busy Lives by Ree Drummond Edition: Hardcover

This is my 5th Pioneer Woman cookbook. It’s a neat one, ranging from the comfort food she’s known for, to comfort food with fun spins, to some really healthy dishes.

The chapters are: A Preface of Ree’s favorite pantry items, freezer staples, fridge staples, and favorite cuts of beef * Breakfasts * Lunches on the Go * Apps and Snacks * Under 40 (minutes) * Under 20 (minutes) * Take Your Time * Sheet Pan Suppers * Meatless Marvels * Sensational Sides * Bread, Baby! * Sweets, Glorious Sweets

Pictured below: 1-2) Each recipe has an intro, a list of ingredients, a photo of the finished dish, and then step by step photo instructions. Some have fun variations listed at the end. My teenagers love cooking out of her books because those step by step photos are really empowering to them. It gives them that little bit of security and confidence. And I love buying them because I know they’ll have success with the recipes, and feel really proud bringing those dishes to the smiling people at the table. All of her books are just like that, too, and all of them are the same size except for The Pioneer woman cooks – it’s smaller.

3-5) We just went to the State Fair of Texas this weekend and ate a lot of delicious things we really need to atone for, so I thought I better start with some of Ree’s healthy recipes. Tex-Mex Butternut Squash Soup – 108, Teriyaki Salmon and Kale Sheet Pan Supper – p 216, and cute kid who inhaled her whole dinner before I got a chance to sit down. Then she grabbed a second bowl of soup. The soup is a delicious variation of regular butternut squash soup. It’s just a little bit spicy. And the pomegranate seeds were a great addition. She says you can swirl on the crema or sour cream with a spoon. I love to use an old ketchup squeeze bottle or icing piping bottle to swirl it on. The salmon and kale were yummy, too, and are the perfect “I have no time!” dish. Preheat the oven, two minutes to prep, and 10 minutes to bake.

6) Mini Turkey Meatloaves – p 193, and Broccolini with Garlic and Lemon – p 282. The meatloaves are unbelievably moist, really yummy and easy peasy. They’re the best turkey mini meatloaves I’ve tried. The last recipe of Ree’s I saw for broccolini with lemon and garlic was one of those fussy blanch, then plunge into ice water, and then to the skillet recipes. Nope! This one just involves a quick trip through the oven in a roasting pan. Nice. She just has you squeeze lemon juice over at the end. I used the zest, too. Total keeper! 7) King Ranch Chicken – p 196. Great comfort food! Tortillas, chicken, peppers and onions, and cheese in a velvety sauce of soups, tomatoes, and spices.

8-9) Lemon Bars – p 358. I had 5 lemons left on my tree, and used 4 on these. Totally lemon worthy.

10-11) Everything is mise en place for the Cap’n Crunch Chicken Strips – p 102. Yes, I snapped that photo just so I could use mise en place (everything in its place) and Cap’n Crunch in the same sentence. Pretty sure that was the first time. I didn’t even know that was on my bucket list. The chicken was great. The kids loved it. I just went for veggies in ranch and some fruit to go with it. My daughter called it breakfast chicken. That gave me a great idea. This would be terrific in chicken and waffles.

12) Steaks with Chimichurri – p 146, and Baked Sweet Potato with Sour Cream and Mint – p 271. Delicious dinner. I gave the sweet potatoes a little honey drizzle. 13) Citrus Salad with Vinaigrette – p 236. Yummy and super summery.

14) Meatball Tortilla Soup – p 181. This soup is amazing. The flavor is off the charts. I think I’m ready to call winner of book. My youngest had a second bowl right away, and then asked me to make a second pot for her thermos for school. 15) Mango Chile Chicken – p 106. Delicious, healthy chicken and salad. I like to massage the dressing into the kale and let it rest while I prep everything else. It softens so that you don’t get that salad jaw fatigue.

Some others I have flagged to try: Chilaquiles – p 8 * Orange-Vanilla Monkey Bread * Waffle Iron Hash Browns – p 27 * Beef Noodle Salad Bowls – p 48 * Thai Chicken Wraps – p 54 * Greek Feast to Go – p 57 * Watermelon Feta Bites – p 68 * Bacon-Wrapped Almond Stuffed Dates – p 79 * The Merc’s Queso – p 89 * Zucchini Roll-Ups – p 92 * Cheese Lover’s Crostini – p 95 * Slow Cooker Beef Enchilada Dip – p 97 * Shrimp Po’ Boys – p 118 * Marsala Mushroom and Goat Cheese Flatbread – p 144 * Steaks with Chimichurri – p 146 * Meat Pies – p 202 * Lobster Mac and Cheese – p 207 * Chicken Legs and 40 Cloves of Garlic Sheet Pan Supper – p 214 * Shortcut Ravioli – p 254 * Spicy Blue Cheese Green Beans – p 293 * Roasted Garlic Pull-Apart Cheese Bread – p 300 * Milk Chocolate Mousse – p 322 * Nutella Krispie Treats – p 334 * Blueberry Cake Milkshake – p 362

I’ll update this as I play in the book more.

The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Dinnertime – Comfort Classics, Freezer Food, 16-minute Meals, and Other Delicious Ways to Solve Supper by Ree Drummond Edition: Hardcover

Fantastic! If you love Ree’s show, you’ll love the book! This one is comfort food with a twist. Totally recommend!

Pictured below: 1) Huevos Rancheros – p6, with Enchilada Sauce – p8, and Pico De Gallo – p23. Delicious breakfast! Everyone loved it! The enchilada sauce makes 3 cups, but this recipe only uses 1 to serve 4 people, so you have 2 cups left for another recipe. She lists suggestions of other recipes to try it in right on that page. 2-3) Individual Chicken Pot Pies – p138. Yum! It was hard not to lick the plates! These are in her freezer chapter. She has you make them in those cute little disposable tins if you’re going to freeze them. We were eating ours right away, so I made them in our au gratin dishes, which made them look like little footballs. I think this has potential as a Super Bowl dinner. Maybe cut the vents to look like the lacing on the football. 🙂 4) Beef with Snow Peas – p163. Awesome and ridiculously easy! She gives some variations. One is to add a red bell pepper, and my husband had just brought one in from the garden, so that went in, too. 5) Chicken Taco Salad – p53. Great salad! We all loved this! I am embarrassed to say that I was wondering what sort of bowls Ree had that these 4 servings could fit in. It was supposed to be 8 servings! Um. The 4 of us finished it. 6) Mexican Tortilla Casserole – p130. Delicious! It’s a make ahead and just needs 40 minutes in the oven when you’re ready. 7) Hawaiian Burgers – p152 and Sweet Potato Fries – p308. That is a *fantastic* burger!!! So much flavor! Everyone loved it! ____________________________________________________________________________________________

The Pioneer Woman Cooks: A Year of Holidays: 140 Step-by-Step Recipes for Simple, Scrumptious Celebrations by Ree Drummond Edition: Hardcover

This book oozes fun! It’s organized by holiday, with plenty of recipes for each so you can pick and choose what you like. Totally recommend!

Pictured below: 1-5) Game night! Buffalo Chicken Bites with Blue Cheese Dip – p 28, Potato Skins – p 36, Grilled Corn Dip – p 34, and Eight Layer Dip – p42. These were all really good, but the Buffalo Chicken Bites were outstanding! We’re enthusiastic dippers, and still had half the blue cheese dip left over, so I *had to* make the chicken again the next night to use it up. 😉 My 16 year old was eating the chicken pretty competitively, and finished half the platter herself, so I’ll probably just double the chicken next time instead of halving the dip. The kids had never tried potato skins before and loved them! I adore it when Ree drops in retro food we’ve all long forgotten about. She gives a bunch of variations to try that all look really fun, too. I’d like a little more color on them, so I’ll leave them in the oven a smidge more next time before the cheese step. 6) Valentine’s Day! Bacon-Wrapped Filet – p 76, Roasted Garlic Mashed Potatoes – p 78, and Cheddar-Bacon Wedge Salad – p 80. This is divine. There’s three full heads of sweet roasted garlic in those potatoes. It was supposed to be a romantic dinner for two, but my kids thought it would be much better for four. Yum! –My steaks took a bit longer than the 3 minutes in the recipe to hit 130° (medium rare) on the thermometer. 7) Easter! Sigrid’s Carrot Cake – p 110. Delicious and fabulously moist! It’s one of those very retro casual bakes that make the holidays so much easier!

Here are some others I have flagged to try: *Cinco De Mayo – Blackberry Margaritas, Beef and Chicken Fajitas, Glorious Guacamole, Chimichurri Shrimp, Fiesta Black Beans, and Zesty Lime Rice *Father’s Day – Arnold Palmers, Toasted Ravioli, Three Meat Lasagna, and Caesar Salad *4th of July – Homemade Lemonade, Watermelon Sangria, Big Bad Burger Bar, Grilled Corn with Spicy Butter, Baked Beans, and Key Lime Pie *Halloween – Broccoli Cheese Soup, Mummy Dogs, Cheese Ball of Death, and Caramel Apples *Thanksgiving – Roasted Thanksgiving Turkey, Perfect Mashed Potatoes, Basic Thanksgiving Dressing, Green Beans & Tomatoes, Caramel Apple Pie… *Christmas – Mulled Apple Cider, Prime Rib, Yorkshire Pudding, Rosemary Garlic Roasted Potatoes, Burgundy Mushrooms, and Boozy Bread Pudding *New Year’s Eve – Champagne Cocktail, Skewers of Glory, Grilled Chicken Skewers, Spinach Artichoke Dip, and Lemon Crème Pie Shooters

The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Food from My Frontier

by Ree Drummond Edition: Hardcover

This one is classic comfort food, just like the first. This was the first Pioneer Woman book I bought. I tried her sloppy joes, which are the absolute best in the whole wide world, and I *had* to have this book. Just like the first one, I cooked almost everything, but no pics. I wasn’t into food pics yet. <weird!>

My one pic from this book… Apricot Shrimp Skewers – p 183, Whiskey-Glazed Carrots – p 224, and Ree’s lemon asparagus (Not in the book. The lemon asparagus was from an episode called Engagement Dinner. It’s very worth Googling and pasting inside the cover). I had just made Apricot Habanero Jam from The All New Ball Book Of Canning And Preserving, and used that where Ree called for apricot jam in the recipe. Yum! The carrots were amazing, and the lemony salty asparagus was fantastic!

Here’s a list of the delicious recipes I tried, so you can get a feel for the book: Lemon Blueberry Pancakes – p 22 * Cowgirl Quiche – p 34 * Best Grilled Cheese Ever – p 42 * Sloppy Joes – p 58 * Chicken Tortilla Soup – p 76 * French Onion Soup – p 84 * Brie-Stuffed Mushrooms – p 96 * Caprese Salad – p 98 * Whiskey-Mustard Meatballs – p 112 * Mango Margaritas – p 116 * Fancy Mac and Cheese – p 132 * Steakhouse Pizza – p 142 * Beef Stew – p 165 * Twice-Baked New Potatoes – p 212 * Perfect Potatoes Au Gratin – p 226

The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Recipes from an Accidental Country Girl

by Ree Drummond Edition: Hardcover

I really enjoy this book. Delicious, easy, really well done comfort food. This one’s the orignal. It’s what you think of when you think comfort food. The way she has the ingredients and small photo step-by-step instructions laid out, my 15 year old is able to dive in and make dinners herself that she’s really proud of, and everyone really enjoys. <sniff. That was 2 years ago…>

Pictured below: 1) The twice baked potatoes in here are absolutely perfect and really easy. Love! And the homemade ranch dressing on an iceberg wedge makes me horribly nostalgic for my Grandma’s kitchen. 2) Marlboro Man’s Favorite Sandwich (cube steak and onion) is delicious!

I’ve made most of the book, but I didn’t used to take food pics. <sigh.>

Great book! You won’t be disappointed! Here are some of the other recipes I LOVED from this book: BBQ Jalapeno Poppers – p 14 * PW Breakfast Burritos – p 51 * Macaroni and Cheese – p 96 * Potato-Leek Pizza – p 110 * Chicken Pot Pie – p 126 * Meatloaf – p 150 * Cheese Grits – p 164 * Simple Perfect Enchiladas – p 176 * Burgundy Mushrooms – p 202 * Creamy Rosemary Potatoes – p 204

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    The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Come and Get It! And the most amazing recipe for Meatball Tortilla Soup! I love Pioneer Woman's new book, The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Come and Get It!: Simple, Scrumptious Recipes for Crazy Busy Lives…