#I also bought honey sticks from them and they were delicious

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

Hey since it's indigenous peoples' day here's a list of indigenous-owned businesses in the US. I believe I originally saw it in an indigenous person's post but tumblr's search function is shit and I couldn't find it again.

[oliviab-scstudyabroad]

Uruguay, Papá! (Part I)

Hey everyone! I apologize for the delay in blog posts; I’ve been sick this past week! Study abroad can really take a toll on you physically since you’re always on the go, so I took some time to reset and recover. That being said, I wanted to write about a road trip that I took a couple of weeks ago to visit the interior of Uruguay! The interior refers to all the departments (like the states in the U.S.) except Montevideo. The interior is rich with culture and nature, so I was glad I got to spend the long weekend there!

There were five of us that went (all international students studying abroad): one from France, two from two different parts in Mexico, and one from England but was born in Palestine! I loved that we were a mix of all different nationalities. On Thursday afternoon, we picked up our car rental and drove 3.5 hours to Minas, the capital of the department Lavalleja. We arrived late in the evening, so we went grocery shopping, arrived at the Airbnb, and cooked a delicious dinner of chorizo with homemade chimichurri, grilled potatoes, and Michelada, a traditional Mexican drink. We ate like kings and stayed up playing games and chatting.

The next morning, we made a breakfast of yogurt and fruit with honey and budin (sweet bread). We wanted to explore a little bit of Minas/Villa Serrana before heading to the department of Treinta y Tres, so we visited the Obelisco (Obelisk? It’s basically a tall skinny pyramid that most departments have). It was way smaller than we expected, but we had to laugh because we drove 15 minutes on bumpy roads in a stick-shift car to visit it. On the way, we also found a little free library where people could take and leave a book, write poetry, and give book suggestions! The books were in a refrigerator painted in all sorts of colors, so of course I had to take pics.

We then headed to the Salto del Penitente where we walked to a series of lagoons and waterfalls. I wanted to jump in, but it was impossible to get close enough to the lagoon without basically scaling the rocks/cliffs! We decided to play if safe and tan next to the waterfall. After soaking in the sun, we had a late lunch and tried croquettes (more like egg rolls) with jabaldi (warthog). It tasted just like regular pork, and I can say that that’s the most “exotic” thing I’ve ever tasted! We then decided to pack up and drive the three hours to Treinta y Tres. We passed by an olive orchard along the way, so we stopped and bought olive oil to cook with and fizzy wine in a can made from grapes grown in the area! There were also so many cats roaming around; we each wanted to steal one and take them back to Montevideo. When we were driving, we also drove past a fox that was sleeping on the side of the road! We slowed down and he sat up and just stared at us for a couple of minutes! He was clearly used to seeing humans because he just had this look of curiosity on his face. I wanted to steal him too but thought better of it 😉

Once we got to our Airbnb in Treinta y Tres, a few people went to the store while my friend Cleo and I started the fire! I was so proud of us that we got it going and that we could start cooking dinner right away. We had another delicious dinner of chorizo and grilled potatoes. The next day was Cleo’s birthday, so we stayed up to sing to her in Spanish, English, and Arabic! How neat is that?

Part two is on its way! Stay tuned!

[crazyblondelife]

The Cheese Obsession Continues and Notes From the Weekend

“What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon? And the day after that, and the next thirty years?”

~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

Life is about pursuing your passions and I’m sharing a few of mine here today…my amazing grandsons, beautiful objects, fabulous food and more! I hope you enjoy!

Last week, I made a visit to Shop on Blair, which is a fabulously curated shop in Greensboro, NC owned by my friend Lisa Johnson. I went to look for a beautiful bowl to put on my desk and, of course, I found one. I also found this absolutely fabulous antique French board and had to have it. There were so many other things I wanted to bring home, but I tried to show some restraint, knowing I would be back soon.

My daughter Rebecca and son-in-law came in from Richmond this weekend and I decided to make a special cheese board for all of us to eat while sitting by the fire on Saturday. I had so much cheese left over from the Valentine’s Day cheese post, so I used that cheese and added roasted nuts, olives, strawberries, dates and dried cherries. These delectable additions, along with a few pansies from my yard, made the already beautiful board even more beautiful and it was a hit! Later in the evening, we had hamburgers and pesto pasta and the evening was perfect!

Food & Fun

These two little cuties spent the night with us on Saturday night and when they got up, they wanted cinnamon rolls, so I decided to try out the TikTok Viral recipe. I know I’m probably the last person on earth to try it, but now I certainly understand what all the hoopla is about! These cinnamon rolls are truly decadent, easy and delicious! Scroll down for the recipe!

{"image":"https://i.imgur.com/wyIqrko.jpg","name":"TikTok Viral Cinnamon Rolls","prepTime":"PT10M","cookTime":"PT35M","totalTime":"PT45M","description":"You can't believe how delicious these cinnamon rolls are!","yield":"4 - 5","recipeIngredient":["1 package cinnamon rolls (package of 8)","1/2 cup heavy cream","1 stick butter, melted","1 cup light brown sugar","1 teaspoon cinnamon","For the glaze:","Mix together the icing from the cinnamon roll container (use 2), 2 tablespoons softened butter, 3 tablespoons cream cheese, 2 tablespoons powdered sugar, 1/2 teaspoon vanilla and 3 tablespoons mill. Whisk until smooth"],"recipeInstructions":["Line a baking dish with cinnamon rolls and fill the pan evenly with 1/2 cup heavy cream.","Mix together melted butter, brown sugar, cinnamon and pour on top of cinnamon rolls.","Cover with aluminum foil and bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. Uncover and cook for another 5 minutes.","Glaze cinnamon rolls, serve and watch them disappear!"],"@context":"http://schema.org","@type":"Recipe"}

Anytime I’m looking for a recipe, the first website I go to is Half Baked Harvest! Tieghan Gerard’s recipes are always delicious and her blog is beautiful. This week, I’m planning to try her Baked Artichokes with Honey Whipped Feta and I know it will be amazing!

Movies & YouTube

"The Law According to Lidia Poët" is inspired by a true story: that of the first lawyer in Italy, of the daily injustices for which she fought, of her fierce defense of the innocent, of the studies and investigations to discover the truth and the revolution that has taken place in the world of jurisprudence thanks to her. This is one we’ll be watching this week!

If you haven’t already watched Vogue’s 73 Questions with Jennifer Lopez, this is one you’ll love. Her home is stunningly beautiful and she is, as always, inspiring!

Fashion

The trees are budding, the daffodils are blooming and spring is coming! Of course, I’m making a wish list and this pink suit from Veronica Beard is definitely on the list as are the fabulous white wedges! Everything is linked below!

When I was in New York with my daughters in December of last year, I bought my first scarf from Hermès scarf. I had been wanting a scarf for a while and found one with just the perfect color palette to suit me. I knew it would go with so much of what was in my closet…but I have one slight problem. The way I’m wearing it above is the only way I know how to tie it. I’m doing my research and will hopefully be able to do a fun scarf tutorial in the near future. For any of you that are scarf wearers and even more importantly scarf tiers, I would love to have any advice you have to offer! I know this is a scarf I’ll keep for the rest of my life and hopefully my daughters will wear it one day, but for now, I want to wear it as stylishly as possible!

From Around the Web

It’s safe to say that most of you who are reading this blog are middle aged or close so I’m sure you’ll enjoy this interesting article from The Guardian titled Whatever happened to middle age? The mysterious case of the disappearing life stage.

Below you’ll find a boutique with all the things mentioned in this post plus a few extras! I always want to update my basics when the seasons change, so I’m including a few things that you’ll want to have ready for spring! Enjoy and have a great week!

[dirty-brainrot]

Yoshikage Kira iiii (Pocky)

Here's the final one. Also, me making 2 more oneshots is all thanks to the homemade wintermelon matcha I made. It tastes bad but that's the beauty of it.

★

"Husband!~" You call out to your normal husband with a not so strange hand kink. He was at home today because he took a day off so you two could have a little time together which was very sweet and considerable of him. "Love?" He peeks his head from the kitchen door frame. The smell only hitting your nose now, it seems he started cooking. 'And from the smell of it... It's probably very delicious.' "I bought all the ingredients you need!"

You swiftly took off your shoes and placed them in the shoe rack. Slipping on your slippers, you went to the kitchen and placed the paper bags on the counter. Grinning you turned to him. "And look what I got for us!" You reached into the smaller paper bag and pulled out a small box of pocky.

Kira lowers the stove flames to look at you, eyebrows raised and intrigued. "Aren't we too old for that? Plus you've been eating too much sugar lately." He reverts his attention back to the pan. "Nonsense!" Exclaimed you as you prepared all his ingredients, placing the pocky aside for later.

You both worked in sync in the kitchen. He cooked while you chopped the vegetables and gave him the spices he need. It was rare to see him cook but whenever he does cook, his food always came out great! Probably one of the best ones you've had.

Occasionally initiating small talks, you two had finally finished cooking the dish. He placed it onto a plate as you prepared the table. While you and your malewife worked together, Queen, you and your husband's beloved pet sphinx cat, enters the room mewling at the two of you as a greeting. You greeted her back with a "Hello." She walked past your legs and straight to her food bowl, eating the cat food that Kira had prepared earlier.

"She's so cute... I wonder why our neighbors hate her?" Your husband chuckles as he took a seat. The food was laid out and ready to be devoured. You grabbed some and placed it on your plate then looked at him, tilting your head in curiosity after his chuckle. "Have I told you about Queen accidentally exploding one of their outlets?" You audibly gasped and look back at the cat then back to him, perplexed. Taking a seat, you asked, "What?! How did she even do that?"

Kira ate a piece of his meal and you followed suit, still wearing a surprised look. He chewed for a while before answering, "They had their water sprinkler activated when queen got out and ran through their lawn, sneaking inside—" You ate your food in silence and nodded. "—Queen got near into one of their outlets and shook her body, making it fizzle and explode." He began eating again with a smile on his face. "Did anyone get hurt?"

"Meow."

"Fortunately, none." You sighed in relief and ate a piece of the delicious meal your husband made. "Queen sure does like to cause chaos... I'm guessing it's been fixed?" He nods and continues eating.

It went like earlier when you two were preparing the food, occasionally talking and peace. Queen was still eating her food while you and Kira finished and cleaned the dishes together. Wiping your hands on a towel, you notice the pocky you bought earlier.

"Honey!~" You sang in a sing-song voice, gaining your husband's attention. He stopped at the kitchen doorframe and hums, looking at you. "Yes, love?" Eagerly, you shook the pocky box in front of him. "We nearly forgot dessert!" His face showed disinterest but still entertained you by agreeing to your antics.

You took the honor of opening the box and tearing the packet. Inside was your favorite flavored pocky. "You still remember how to play right?" He takes a single piece. "I do." He places it on his mouth with a smirk. He looked hot and ominous with that single smirk. "Okay..." 'Heh! Easy free kiss!' Aligning your lips at the other side, you smile and begin to nibble with him.

Before your lips could meet, the stick broke. "Oh-" You got the larger side while he got the short one. 'Did he purposely do it?' He eats the small piece while you still nibble on yours disappointedly. "Oh dear... It looks like I lost." You pout and devour the stick. "No kisses for you." He adds.

Grabbing another stick, you pointed it to him. "Again!" He smiles at your determination and aligns his lips. You followed and began nibbling faster while he slowed down. As you passed through the middle, it broke again! "Mmm... You're going too fast with the nibbles, love."

Getting frustrated, you grab another piece while munching on the broken one. Kira was enjoying every moment, he doesn't get to see you angry about sweets that often. Pointing the pocky at Kira's mouth with yours he bit the other end and nibbled with you. But as soon as you could take one more nibble, it broke!

You ate the small part dejectedly. Kira took pity on you and gently pets your head. "You really want a kiss that bad?" Grabbing another stick, you chew on it while nodding. He removed his hand on your head and placed it on the hand holding the pocky, pushing it aside. Surprised, you look at your husband. "Well, for being such a good spouse... I'll give you one." He uses his other hand to grab your chin and tilt your head in his direction.

He dove in, slowly. You watch him close his eyes and kiss your lips. His hand gently rubbed circles to yours, feeling his calloused hand on yours and lips made you feel butterflies. It was high school all over again.

You closed your eyes and kissed back, matching his speed. The longer it is, the rougher it gets. Before things got heated between the two of you, Queen walked through your legs and his, surprising you. You broke the kiss, panting, to look at the sphinx. She continued to walk past, not caring both of your looks. "What a menace to society..." Kira mumbles between breaths. You giggled. "Our little menace."

He turns his attention to you and carries you in bridal style. "Let's continue it in the bedroom." He purrs while you ate the last pieces of pocky, flustered and horny.

Here's a picture of my cat.

[kiss-inthekitchen]

of the jealous kind

summary: you and Harry are out at the local farmer’s market when a girl starts flirting with you and Harry gets jealous. only thing is, you don’t exactly realize she’s flirting with you. classic wlw vibes, am i right ladies? (please say yes)

my submission for @bopbopstyles and @harrysclementines bi-ficathon!

a/n: fun times with Harry calling you “his girl” and being just a bit pathetically jealous (his words!) also i might continue this...in a smut type of fashion... if y’all are interested

word count: 2.2k 

--

“Oh, let’s stop over there! I want to get one of those chocolate chip custard things,” you exclaimed, spotting your favorite bakery stand at the farmer’s market and dragging Harry along by your joined hands. 

“A’right, love, m’comin,” he laughed, trying to keep in step with your suddenly quickened pace. 

It was a Sunday morning, cloudy but not too cold, and you and Harry were visiting your favorite farmer’s market in town. You tried to come here at least twice a month if your schedules allowed it. Today, it just so happened, you both had the entire day free to spend with each other. 

Harry knew you had to look at everything the bakery had to offer before you inevitably bought the same items as usual (a good, crusty country loaf and the same danish you never remembered the name of). There was a produce stand across the way that immediately caught Harry’s eye, a “buy 2 get 1 free” sign atop a display of various berries calling out to him. You noticed his distraction, the two of you speaking at the same time.

“M’gonna-” 

“Go on, then.”

“Know me so well, don’t you?” He gave you a soft smile and pressed a kiss to your temple before heading off in pursuit of his beloved fruit. 

You took the last few steps over to the booth’s main table, which held a majority of the baked goods as well as this week’s free sample: a garlic rosemary bread, cut into bite size pieces. You picked one up, on instinct taking a sidelong glance at the basket of your favorite pastries by the register, when the woman behind the counter finished ringing up a customer and turned to you.   

“Can I help you with anything, hon?”

“Oh, um, I’m just looking,” you answered, looking up at her. She must’ve been new, you thought, not recognizing her from your previous visits. She had dark hair, twisted up into a bun at the back of her head, an oversized t-shirt with a phoenix decal on it. Her name tag informed you that her name was Allie. 

“Alright, well, I will say that’s the best flavor we’ve got,” she gestures to the small wedge still held between your fingers. 

“Really? That’s quite a bold statement,” you smile back at her, appreciating her friendliness.  

“You’re gonna want to trust me on this one,” she said, nodding at you to go ahead. 

You took a bite, blushing a bit at the knowledge you were being watched and that she was awaiting your response. “Mhm,” you agreed, around a mouthful of bread. “Okay, you’re right, that’s better.” 

“Thought so. I have been told I’ve got very good taste.” 

“Well, I’m not surprised.” 

She made eye contact with you, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “So, will you be taking a loaf of the garlic rosemary then?” she asked. 

“Yes, please.” Why not try something new, you thought. And she was right, it was delicious. You’re sure Harry would like it too, and you could just imagine the playful ribbing he was going to give you when he noticed you’d deviated from your usual order. “Oh, could I also get that-” 

“The chocolate chip danish? I saw you eyeing it earlier,” she said, picking one up with a gloved hand and placing it in a small paper bag. “That one’s on the house.” 

“Oh, you’re so sweet! Thank you.” Allie was really on top of it with the customer service. 

“Anytime,” she said, “Anything else I can get you?” 

“No, that’s all for me! Thanks again.”

She rang up your order, handing you the bag before speaking. “You know, we also come out to the beachside farmer’s market on Wednesday’s, if you’re ever in the area. I’ll write it down for you,” she said, picking up a business card from a stack on the table and turning it over to write on the back. 

“Sounds great,” you replied, mostly to be polite. You probably wouldn’t make it out, Wednesdays being a busy day for you with classes. 

Just as she was handing it back to you, Harry appeared behind you, fruit in tow. 

“Thank you so much, have a good one!” you said cheerily, dropping the card into the bag with your goods. You’d look at it when you got home.

She waved back. “See you soon, hopefully.”

You smiled as you turned around to see Harry already standing there, startling a bit at his unexpected presence. He raised his eyebrows a bit, but didn’t say anything as he put his free arm around your shoulders. The two of you headed back to the main walkway, and he waited until your new friend was out of earshot before he spoke. 

“So, yeh just gonna let someone flirt with my girl like that?” 

“What?” That was not what you were expecting. “She wasn’t flirting with me, Harry.” 

“Oh, please, love. Saw the way she was lookin’ at you. Poor girl. I’m sure you led her on.” 

“Excuse me, I did no such thing,” you scoffed. “And she wasn’t even flirting with me, so I couldn’t have.” 

He breezed right past your denial, having already made up his mind. You weren’t going to be able to convince him otherwise, you knew that by now. “Told ya before love, you come off very flirtatious. Almost feel bad for her.” He was smirking down at you, the bastard. “Almost.” 

“Being a pest,” you grumbled, shoving against his shoulder with yours to throw him off balance. 

He stumbled a bit, but recovered quickly. “Oi! ‘S not very nice, is it?” 

You giggled in response, loving when he used that playful tone. He tried to keep a serious face on while looking back at you but failed almost immediately, looking at you with such adoration in his eyes that you forgot what you’d both been talking about. 

“Anyway,” you sang, reaching out for his free hand and threading your fingers through his. “What did you buy?” 

His face lights up at the memory of his purchase. “Got strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries, plus some local clover honey.” 

“Such a sweet tooth, hm?” 

“S’pose I do,” he said with a slight smirk. “Ready to go home and eat, then?” 

“We’ve barely been here half an hour, H. Trying to get me home already?”

“Look too good today, love. Worried if we stick around I’ll have to beat the other vendors off with a stick.” 

“I thought we were done with this conversation,” you rolled your eyes at him playfully, but allowed him to steer you back toward the car park. You were getting kind of hungry anyway. 

--

You’re sat on your kitchen island at home, Harry placing the bags on the counter next to you. 

“Have a nice time, love?” He asks, moving over to you and situating his body between your knees at the edge of the counter. 

You drape your arms around his neck, thumb coming up to his cheek to rub back and forth as he leans into your touch. “Always have a good time when I’m with you,” you breathe. 

“That’s m’girl,” he speaks in a husky tone, before leaning in to press his lips to yours, slow and lazy at first. That is, until he lifts his hands to your thighs, sliding them around to your back and suddenly tugging you closer to the edge of the island, body flush with his. You gasp into his mouth at the action, and you can feel rather than see his resounding smirk. 

“Harry,” you pull back, attempting to admonish him but no one would know from the way your voice shakes. 

“Sorry, love. Know what they say, kitchen’s the most romantic room in the house.” 

“I don’t know anyone who says that.” 

“Y’do now,” he grins lopsidedly at you, and it’s all you can do to remember that the two of you still need to eat. 

You grin back at him. “You’re a dork, you know that?” 

“But you love me,” he responds, and you can’t argue with that. “A’right, I’ll take everything out and we can have a picnic in the backyard, how’s that sound?” 

Your smile nearly knocks him off his feet. “I’ll go get the picnic blanket!” 

He removes himself from between your legs and you slide off the counter and head towards the linen closet in the hallway. When you return, Harry’s taken out the loaf of bread and the danish, and is holding the business card in between two fingers. 

“What’s this, then?” He asks, holding up the bakery’s business card, logo facing you. 

“It’s just their card, the cashier told me they come out to another farmer’s market during the week and she was gonna write it down for me.” 

“Oh, she wrote it down, love.” In a second, he elegantly flips the card over in his fingers to show you the back. “But that’s not all she wrote.” Underneath the name of the other market is her name and, unmistakably, a phone number. 

“No!” you gasp, not believing he was right and you’d fucking missed it. 

“And you bought a new flavor bread?”

“Well, I-  Allie said it was the best one…” you trail off, trying to remember the details of your earlier interaction. Maybe Harry was right, you guess you did seem a bit flirtatious.

“Oh, Allie said, did she? That’s all it takes?” He’s kind of joking, kind of not, when it finally sinks in for you that you’ve, yet again, completely failed to notice when another woman was trying to flirt with you. 

“Oh, god damn it!” you exclaim, completely in your own head and you didn’t even hear what Harry had said to you. “I do this every time!” 

What’s left of Harry’s joking demeanor drops. “Every time? How often does this happen?!” 

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice again.” 

Your friends were gonna have a field day with this one. Three out of the four of you identified as bi or pan, though when you’d all become friends back in high school only one of you had actually been out. Now, you all joked that you had one “token straight” in the friend group. 

“Y/N?!”

“I know, H, can you give me just a moment, I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that I’m apparently a raging stereotype,” you reply, laughing at yourself a bit for being so predictable. 

“Oh, of course, don't mind me. I’ll just be here. Waiting. Very patiently.” It’s a wonder he doesn’t start tapping his foot, clearly the farthest thing from patient right now. 

You snap back to attention, realizing that if you don’t stop Harry he’s just going to keep spiraling. “You do know I’m dating you, right?”

“Do I?” 

“Oh, come on. You’re being such a baby about this!” 

“Oi! I am not!” He huffs, and you can just picture him as an indignant toddler, standing with his arms folded and a deep frown set on his face. 

You hold back a laugh at the image you’ve conjured, closing the distance between the two of you. “Baby, I love you,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.“You know I do.” His jaw. “Why don’t we just throw that out, hm?” You kiss his lips this time, reaching for the card and plucking it from his fingers before tossing it away from you.  

“I guess,” he grumbles as you pull away, but you can tell he’s not quite over it. 

You rest your chin against his chest, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. “You don’t believe me, gorgeous? Need me to prove it to you?” 

“Maybe,” he mumbles, and you know that you’ve brought him back from his little jealousy spiral at the mere suggestion, so you decide to make him wait for it. Just a little while.  

“More than happy to,” you murmur, tracing your fingertips over the back of his hand. “Only thing is, you’re gonna have to have this picnic with me first,” you reach behind him for the blanket, “and you have to stop pouting.” You step around him, laughing as you run toward the glass door that leads to the yard.

“M’not pouting,” he lies to the empty kitchen as he grabs the rest of the food and some utensils before following you outside. 

His mood is definitely lifted, though, when he comes outside to find you seated on the blanket already, grinning widely at him and holding your arms out for him to crawl into. 

Maybe he had been just a tad bit dramatic. 

--

About half the bread is gone now, a bowl of honeyed berries and a plate full of crumbs resting on the cloth-covered grass next to you. Harry’s shifted so he’s laying down with his head resting on your soft thighs, with you carding your fingers through his short curls, just enjoying each other’s company. 

“Wait a minute,” you break the comfortable silence, a thought suddenly popping into your mind. “Other people flirt with you all the time! Sometimes right in front of me!” 

“And?” he muses, reluctantly sitting up in order to face you. 

“And! I never get jealous like that!” 

“I know. Rather insulting, if you ask me. You can get possessive, love. I certainly won’t mind it.”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

a year in the life | rockstar! s.s.

pairing: rockstar!sebastian stan x writer!reader

main work: i wanna know what love is

season: autumn 🍁

a/n: in celebration of 4 major works of mine turning one this year (my babies, cannot believe it’s been a year) and based on the reboot of gilmore girls, i will be revisiting my works per season. we are starting with autumn and rockstar!seb. hope you enjoy xx

Y/N laid on the big chez lounge couch in the middle of her living room, surrounded by her children’s toys, with a large bowl of Doritos on her lap as the Real Housewives played on the background. For the very first time since forever, she was alone at home; Jess and Marion were at their respective schools while Sebastian was busy in the studio, doing some rearrangements to a new album. She loved the three of them more than anything but she knew that she would’ve never had the chance to eat Doritos without Sebastian complaining it was unhealthy for her or her children trying to take a bite. Lately, all she wants is to lay low, bask in her leave from work and watch some trashy TV. 

As her eyes were getting heavier and heavier with sleep when the front door opened, sending her back into alert mood. Luckily, it wasn’t no one trying to break in but her husband who still couldn’t open doors without making a big ruckus about it. 

     - I’m sorry, bunny. -  he stepped back as he recognised his wife’s sleepy face. - I thought you’d be in the bedroom. 

     - Can’t move. - she pointed at her bulging bump covered by one of his old jumpers which seemed to be the only thing that fully covered her at this particular stage. Sebastian chuckled, walking over to her to quickly kiss her, hand caressing her bump through the jumper. - Didn’t expect you to be home so early.

      - I can see. - he pointed at the bowl of Doritos on her lap. - You’re supposed to be the prudent one. 

    - I’m carrying your offspring. It makes me make bad decisions. - she teased, cuddling against him as he sat by her side, worn out slightly loose black leather jacket still on. - How are the boys?

    - Fighting about who gets to be godfather this time.

    - Did you tell them my brother is gonna be the godfather?

    - Now, where would the fun be in that, bunny? - he smirked, with that boyish like looks he still managed to remain after all these years. 

    - Stop it. - she leaned towards him to kiss him. 

    - How are you feeling today? - his hand mindlessly rubbed her bump, feeling the little moves of the baby whenever the baby moved. - Little one is a bit feisty today.

    - It’s been like this all of last night. I think I might be closer to labour than we think.

    - Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve driven the kids to school, honey love. 

    - You needed to sleep. - she groaned as she stretched her legs. - Besides, Marion is staying with your mum today so I wanted to spend some time with her before she went. 

    - No kids tonight? - he leaned over to kiss her collarbone. - How long has it been?

    - As long as I’ve been pregnant. - she pushed him away playfully. - Jess is not going. 

    - Why not? Jess loves my mum. Is he sick? Urgh, is the flu going around his class again? We need to put him into a better school, those kids at his school are always s...

    - Seb, stop. - she rolled her eyes, smiling at the same time at how he’d gone from let it be to constant rambling about his children’s wellbeing. - He just wants to be home tonight and he’s been a little sad lately. 

    - You’re sure he’s not sick? Because there’s this private school which tests kids for all those flu things.

    - He’s not sick. He’s just got ... a bit of a lovebug. He got like this when I was last pregnant with Marion. 

    - Well, at least he hasn’t decided that the baby is just not coming. - Sebastian referred to Marion. Their daughter had just decided there was no baby coming around, even after being offered her own bedroom with her own bathroom, just for herself. - I’ll go pick him up, make it a whole thing. Maybe even pass by Al’s ... get you that pasta you really like. 

    - You’re just trying to make me forget that you’re the reason we’re moving houses. 

   - Y/N, this house has always been too small.

   - That’s because you need a whole room for your guitars alone. 

She’d spend the best part of her initial married years trying to convince Sebastian to either get a storage unit to put all his guitars in or to just merge it with his office yet, he’d always come back with an excuse. “Honey love, they need to be displayed”, “Bunny I would just get distracted if they were in my office” he would tell her with his rockstar like charm which she thought was strong enough to resist, yet how can she say no when he immediately shifts from boyish smile to having her pressed against the wall of that very same room, pounding into her as if he was an up and coming rockstar and her his favourite groupie. With the need for that bedroom, their once spacious apartment they bought when she was pregnant with Jess was becoming too small. Normally Y/N would be okay with it but being 8 months pregnant during the fall where it constantly rains in New York, moving seemed like the last thing she’d like to do and just thinking about it made her tired already. After all, she could barely walk to the kitchen without feeling tired or taking a short break in the middle of the path. She thought that after two pregnancies, the third one would be a walk in the park. Turns out it’s more like a run in the park, except the park is on fire and she’s barefoot. 

   - Honey love, asking me to get rid of my guitars is like asking you to get rid of your five copies of Emma.

   - They’re in different languages. - she argued back.

   - They’re different models, besides, we can finally have a guest bedroom. You always wanted a guest bedroom.

   - Sure then maybe my grandfather will come visit more often. How about that? - Sebastian chuckled at her answer. - I’m not joking. You get me pregnant, you get to be annoyed by my grandfather. 

   - You’re acting like this is my fault when you were the one who wore fishnets with a leather skirt. I’m only human. 

   - Fine, 10% my fault, 90% you fault. That’s my final offer.

   - You sure? 

   - Yes. You see, you are a sex maniac who cannot be controlled. 

   - That’s not what you wrote about me. - he smirked. - You said I had more soul than just a sex pot. 

   - Do not quote my own words at me.

   -  You bought my old guitar.

   - Urgh ... - she rolled her eyes. Sebastian grinned, happy he’d won the debate. - Just go make the other mums jealous please.

   - Look at you, using me for my sex appeal only.

   - No. I just really enjoy being the powerful mum. 

   - Yeah? What’s that like?

   - Constant questions about if we do weird sex blood rituals. Then mysterious answers, so they all fear you and don’t force you to attend PTA meetings on date nights. 

   - I gotta say, bunny ... we got this parenting thing covered. 

   - We do.

   - When I come back, you better not have a bowl of Doritos on your belly.

   - I’ll do whatever I want.

   - Sure, bunny, if you walk to the kitchen by yourself ...

   - Low move, Stan. Low.

   - You love me. - he chuckled, grabbing his keys from the trinket dish by the entry door. - See you soon, bunny.

   - Love you. - she scrunched her face in a little smile which he couldn’t help but smile back.

Sebastian liked to pick up Marion and Jess from school. His schedule normally meant Y/N, who had a more 9-5 job, was the one who’d do the drop offs and collections so he’d always meet them at home but whenever he could pick them up, he’d be the first one there. He just loved to see his two babies come out of school in their little uniforms which he incredibly hated when they first enrolled but now couldn’t help but find incredibly adorable. He also loved to see how both his children came out of school. Marion would be the one who’d take the longest, surrounded by all her friends and probably nursing a scrape or two on her knee as if kindergarten 2-3 year old was a big fighting ground while Jess would come out as quickly as he could. 

He parked slightly in front of his son’s school, coming out of the car and leaning against it. The parents’ eyes were immediately on him, maybe it was due to the star power or, most likely, it was because he was wearing a leather jacket, dark shades and his neck tattoo could be seen peaking out the collar of his jacket. His shoes crinkled the fallen leaves on the floor, avoiding those looks as he waited for his son. He knew who he was and he was not going to change it because he became a father, he is a good father, he knows that. The bell rang and a swarm of children came rushing out of the school, and they say birth rates are low. He took his sunglasses off, trying to pin point his son in the middle of all different aged children. 

   -  DAD! - he turned his head to the memorable voice, crutching down as he son rushed to him. Jess wrapped his arms around his father, little childish giggles as Sebastian pulled him off the floor.

   - Hey, buddy. How was school?

   - We did hand turkeys.

   - Hand turkeys? No way, that’s so cool. - he opened up the car’s passenger’s seat, sticking around to check if he fastened his seatbelt correctly before taking the driver’s seat. - It’s just gonna be us three today, bud. You, me and mummy. We getting Al’s and some ice cream. 

   - Why didn’t mummy come?

   - Mummy is very tired, buddy. The baby is kicking a lot, won’t let the baby sleep.

   - Oh ...  - Sebastian saw his son’s face grow sadder.

   - What do you want from Al’s, bud? You can get whatever you want.

   - Really?

   - Yeah.

The little restaurant had soon become a staple in their family life. Sebastian had. discovered by accident after accidentally burning dinner for Y/N’s. He wasn’t already too popular with Y/N’s family so he knew he had to fix it and there it was, the small little restaurant filled with delicious food. Now, it was just a Friday night tradition yet today was special, almost nostalgic to when Y/N, Sebastian and Jess had their first home. Back when Y/N and him were new parents and would trip on every toy in the apartment. God, those were the days. 

  - Dad? - Jess pulled at his sleeve while the two were waiting in the queue. 

  - Yeah, bud? - Sebastian picked him up, already understanding the signs of whenever he wanted to be held. 

  - I ... The baby’s not coming for a while, right? 

  - Why, Jessie? What did Marion say?

  - She didn’t say anything ... uhm, it’s gonna be three of us now. 

  - Yeah. We’re gonna get a new big place, we can even get a dog or a cat. You always wanted a cat, didn’t you? 

  - But, now I’m third.

  - What do you mean? - Sebastian furrowed his brows at the comment.

  - Well, when Marion was a baby you and mummy were always with her but she’s still a baby and now there’s a new baby, so I’m gonna be third. - Sebastian’s heart broke at that comment. Now it made sense. - And ... you’re not home a lot and mummy is gonna be busy with the baby.

  - Hey, you’re not third. - he rubbed his son’s back, kissing the side of his head, soothing him to the best of his ability. - You want me to be home more?

  - No, daddy ... you like doing music. 

  - Hm ... how about you come to the studio with me when you don’t have school?

  - Really? But you said I’m too little. 

  - Well, you’re gonna be a big brother again, I think it’s time.

  - Really?

  - Yeah. - he smiled him, his smile reflecting back at him. 

  - Faye. 

  - What?

  - We should name the baby Faye. 

  - Faye? You want your baby sister to be named Faye?

  - Yes.

  - Well ... Faye it is.

[lyallblacklupin]

@ekaterina-popova​ : hey! I found out that lupi means wolves and I instantly thought about Italian Remus. Can you write: Sirius flirts with Remus in French and then Remus answers him in Italian but sirius didn't know that he knows Italian so he melts

Sorry for writing it quite late but here you go! <3 Hope you like it!

Remus enters into their apartment—His and Sirius’ apartment.

“Honey, I’m home!” He calls out, and throws his key into a bowl he calls ‘something fancy china Lily bought.’

“You know it’s getting really cliché now,” Sirius appears in the corridor and Remus feels like he can’t breathe anymore because his boyfriend is wearing a red gypsy skirt with yellow frills on it, “so can you start saying something else? Like ‘Je suis chez moi, mon chérie.’ Or ‘votre bébé est à la maison.’ Huh?”

But Remus is spluttering, growing red in the face. He can tell that Sirius is speaking French on purpose, and it is a lot to handle. The most terrible has happened because Sirius has figured out why his boyfriend is at loss of words.

“Oh, you’re blushing so hard! Merlin you are in love with this skirt, aren’t you? My Remus Lupin has skirt kinks!”

“Shut up! It’s just because you are half naked, and you know how I get when I see you shirtless.” To display his nonchalance, he walks past his boyfriend and loosens the tie of his collar.

“Yeah, I remember fifth year when I came close to you while being shirtless, and you practically cried in front of me because your ears felt hot!” He doubles with laughter, his damp hair sprayed the faint droplets of water on Remus, and it is getting really hard for him to sit straight on the couch. The real question is: Why is he keeping himself from kissing his boyfriend senseless? Because Full moon is in two days, and he has to restrain himself from wrecking him. He can’t lose control even after how much Sirius has insisted that he can deal with it but Remus highly doubts it.

“Sirius, I’m trying to be sane here. But clearly, you are not helping.” Remus clenches his teeth under his mouth, and keeps his hands under his pockets.

“So you do like this skirt, don’t you?” He is grinning his Sirius Black grin with his dripping wet hair sticking to the space where his shoulders meets his neck. He is dazzling, the sexiest human ever to exist in Remus’ life. Remus stares in awe as his eyes travels from his sharp jawline to the muscles stretching from the base of his collarbone as he tilts his head a little backwards. Remus can’t tell if he is doing this also on purpose because his brain is fuzzy. He feels like he is drunk, and he is. He is drunk on Sirius Black. Then his eyes descends to his tattooed chest, and before they descend any lower than his naval area. He jerks himself out from the haze.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, “Sirius, just don’t talk. I-I can’t deal with you right now. You are too much today.”

“You know if someone else would have been in my place, they’d be offended but I swear to Merlin and Morgana, I’m so on fire right now, Moony.”

“Padfoot!” He glares at him but receives a bark of his favorite laughter, and he tries not to slip from his grip, “Okay, where did you get the skirt, anyway?”

“Lily! She said it was quite over-fitted for her.”

“Sirius, it’s a loose skirt with frills on it.” But Sirius makes a noise of disapproval from the back of his throat.

“Yes! And Lily is very pregnant, and please It’s called a gypsy skirt, lover boy.” Sirius comes close, and wiggles his hips in most obscene way that Remus hisses and then bits the inside of his cheek. He can tell that he has started to look at Sirius like he is the most delicious meal walking around him. He catches the whiff of the cologne he bought him for his seventeen birthday. And Remus thinks he is going to die with the heat between them.

“And!” Sirius is now barely at a distance from him. Those mere inches were close enough for Remus to feel the puffs of Sirius’ breaths on his bottom lip as he continues, “Would you still not want me if I come in a pencil skirt in front you?” Those arousing whispers set Remus’ body on fire because damn it! He isn’t a fashion designer but he knows fucking pencil skirts.

“Sirius! Please…” He cries, slipping away from the dangerous territory of Sirius’ charm which happens to be inversely proportional to Remus’ self-control. “It’s two days in full! And I’m driving crazy here! You are driving me crazy here because all I want is to eat you like you are my dinner for tonight.”

“Moony, by all means, I’d be lovely for your cannibalistic appetite.” Sirius makes a show of opening his arms to him, “Have me, darling. I’m all yours.”

“Urgh! I can’t! Just go—I can’t lose control—I just can’t!”

“But Moony—“

“No means no. Vai nella tua stanza! I want to fucking breathe.” He doesn’t realize what he has said even after it has been apparent for solid fifteen seconds that Sirius hasn’t left the living room as he is told. Remus looks up from the book he has suddenly started reading. Of course, he is pretending to read. How can he read when he feels like the argument isn’t finished yet. Remus looks up and freezes because Sirius is wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

“Did-did-you just…Did you just speak…?” Remus holds back a laugh because the surging confidence and sexiness that usually radiates from the Great Sirius Black seems to have dissipated into thin air. And then Remus is able to put a finger on it.  

“Italian?” He cocks an eyebrow, feeling dominant all of a sudden as he stands up to walk towards Sirius, “Stai arrossendo troppo!”

“I thought you speak Welsh!” Sirius splutters, his cheeks glowing red as if someone he has grown microscopic extra bunch of red roses beneath his snowy skin. Remus was at a brink of lunging at his boyfriend to take him in a fierce kiss. He was almost going to devour him the rest of his night. The ideas are surging into his mind, and so is his blood in his veins erratically. The wolf is going to wake up.

“Dwi hefyd yn siarad Cymraeg, Sirius darling..” Remus replies as he bows his head dramatically, “But! amo l'italiano…è sexy, che ne pensi? Huh, love?” It is fun to watch Sirius flustering beyond pink color. The sight suddenly hits Remus with Hogwarts nostalgia as he recalls the era of his and Sirius’ mutual pining over each other, and a memory plays in head.

“Sirius, do you want—you know—like if you want to, ever—not necessarily this time—but do you fancy going to Hogsmeade with me, like alone?” Remus asked, and tried to ignore the cold sweats under his arms and lower back.

“Huh? Really? I mean—I-I…like I mean…uh—“ Sirius kept chuckling like he was either short of breath or coughing because of the cold in the courtyard.

“Oh my god, are you blushing?” And he was, and then did a little too much more.

“Uh—Beetroot juice, that’s all.” And with that he scurried away with the sea of the fourth-year students.

Remus really gazes at Sirius with a solemn look. A feeling of warmth and innocence surrounds him because Sirius’ thick eye brows are knitted together and a look of plea swimming his silver eyes, while the cheeks were still flushed pink. He looks endearing than enticing.

“Ah, screw it.” With that, Remus crashes his mouth against Sirius’ which immediately response with a moan. The kiss is soft and passionate at the same time but as they both deepens it, Remus thinks he is able to set the whole world on fire. He tries not to lose himself completely but the scent of Sirius doesn’t elevate his restraining power. In fact, does things otherwise.

“Oh mio, I love you!” Remus gasps when Sirius’ mouth travel to his neck.

“Fuck! Say that in Italian, you git!” Sirius protests and pins his boyfriend by his wrists above his head. And Remus quirks an eyebrow on the boldness.

“Oh, te ne pentirai, amore mio,” In a swift motion, he twists in hands to clutch Sirius’ wrist, and pushes him on the couch. The view is very much appealing. The red skirt loosely tugging on Sirius’ waist, his half-dried hair coming into his eyes, parted lips, lustful eyes, thoroughly flabbergasted. Remus smiles deviously, “Don’t forget that I’m the one with real animalistic instincts, not you, lover boy.”

[desiraypark]

Take What You Want

Characters: !CEO Ben Solo x Plus Size Female Reader Setting: Alternate/Modern Universe  Summary/Content Warning: Fuckin’. On a boat.  Unprotected PIV sex (assume you’re on BC, or don’t!), oral sex (female receiving). Reader is a bit insecure about her appearance but I worked to avoid the whole “woman doesn’t like how she looks, a MANLY MAN-MAN says HE likes it, therefore a lifetime of hurt disappears in seconds YAY!” trope lol. Ben just wants to fuck you in front of the ocean, okay?

*Use of “Ben Solo” is more so to establish his legacy/bloodline, not necessarily his character/personality or anything like that. BEN’S YACHT (Video: 00:15 is where you’re sitting) - I don’t know if I got the terminology right but who cares, let’s get to the bangin’. 

The past five months had been...Interesting. Different. Thrilling. Perfect. Almost, too perfect--but you didn’t fight it.

It was during the second week of January when you strolled through the cool, bland, and dull-lit spaces of Dice6, LLC.--all the way to the conference room where its young CEO, Ben Solo, sat at the head of the table. The receptionist led you inside. You shook his hand and sat two seats to his right. He asked very few questions and listened intently to your answers. Or so you assumed.

Barely five minutes into the interview, he closed your folder, leaned back in his seat, and looked you over. 

“I’m not hiring you,” he said. 

“Oh...okay...” you’d responded, confused and disappointed. 

“I’m going to take you on a date.”

“...excuse me?”

“Why did you apply for this job?” he asked.

“Um, because this is a reputable com--”

“What do you need money for? Do you have a new place? New to the city?”

“I just...I want a well-paying job to survive, Sir...”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled. 

“I’ve got a feeling about you,” he said. He crossed his leg over the other. “I always listen to my instincts. How would you like to survive and thrive on my bank account?”

You freaked out and excused yourself from the interview. Of course, he gave you a call that you ignored. The next day, you got an email reminder about your soon-to-be due student loan payment, and well...you went on and called him back.

____________________

“I’ve never been on a yacht before,” you’d told him over the phone.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“What do I wear?”

“Dresses, shorts, bathing suits. Lingerie. Preferably nothing.”

“I’ll have to go shopping, I guess.”

“I’d like to see you in jewel tones. And bright reds. I never see you in red.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

You’d sent him pictures of the clothing you’d bought with his money. In his calm abrasiveness, he’d called you and told you that he hated your swimsuits and lingerie. Later, he sent you photos of things he wanted you to wear--lots of things you’d never felt comfortable wearing. Or rather, things other people would make you feel ashamed for wearing. But you took another shopping trip and did your best.

____________________

Ben stood at the door to the outer deck waiting for you. You smiled as he took your hand and led you into the open space for dessert and champagne. The two of you sat close on the plush sofa as you ate a fluffy, strawberry cake and stared out at the sparkling waters.

“Are you enjoying everything?” he asked, breaking the serene silence. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and planted a kiss on his jaw.

“I’m loving it. Thank you for this.”

His eyes didn’t leave you when you pulled away. The pupils were dilated and he was chewing on his lip. You were familiar with that look. Past loves had also signaled their desire to fuck with darkened and narrowed eyes, and working jaws. 

Ben traced the outline of your red lips with the tip of his index finger. You parted your lips, signaling for him to place the tip into the small hole that had formed. He smirked and pressed his finger inside and you licked it. He pushed it further, making you suck. 

“My dirty girl,” he purred. “Where else do you want my fingers?”

You smiled, took his free hand, and guided it to between your legs. He hummed and grabbed your fleshy mound. Then, he removed his finger from your mouth and replaced it with his lips and hot tongue. When he was satisfied with the amount of your saliva he’d collected, he pushed the small dining table back, knelt to the floor, and lifted your emerald green sundress.

You froze and clamped your thighs shut.

“Shouldn’t we go inside, Ben?”

His hungry eyes met yours. He squeezed the soft fabric between his fingers and proceeded to lift your dress until it stopped at your knees. 

“No.”

He placed a hand between your knees to space them apart but you kept them clamped shut.

“What if somebody sees us, Honey?”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he said with shortness. “I’m not waiting another second to taste you.”

You exhaled. Your clit perked up, but Ben was still. His eyes still on you and the skirt of your dress still scrunched between his fingers. 

“I don’t care about your size, Y/N. You know that,” he said.

“I know you don’t,” you started. “But, sometimes, I do.”

Ben released your dress and rubbed your clothed legs. “May I ask a favor of you?”

“Sure, Baby,” you responded, running your fingers through this hair.

“For me--just this one time--let me fuck you right here,” he requested. You swallowed, but before you could speak, he continued. “I want to see your pussy clench when the cool air hits it, then feel it melt when I wrap my lips around your clit...”

He tugged at the skirt of your dress again. “I want to see the sky behind you when I hold your legs in the air.”

Your knees weakened and your ass began to sink into the sofa. Ben pushed your skirt to your thighs and pulled your panties down.

“No more underwear this weekend,” he demanded. He balled your panties up, stood up, leaned over you, and threw them out in the ocean. Then, he fell back to his knees and pushed your heavy legs back.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you fell back on the sofa. You jumped at the feeling of cool air on your moistening pussy and bare thighs. Ben rubbed his fingers up and down your ass and reached up to pull the sandals off your feet. 

“I want to see how your skin glows under a sunset when I’m making you come...”

Ben gripped the back of your right knee with his left hand and rubbed circles over your ever-spreading labia with the pads of his right fingers. You moaned for him--moaned for yourself. Your mind relaxed as your nipples awakened. 

“Is your pussy as juicy as it looks?” he asked.

You threw your head back, now a complete goner. Suddenly, you felt a quick sting on your pussy lips, making you gasp. Your head shot up and you looked beyond your belly and into Ben’s fierce eyes.

“Answer me.”

You nodded profusely. “Yes, Baby. It is. Get a taste, Baby. Please.”

“Mmm...” he said, his index and middle fingers retreating from the others to rub deep into your slit--the crevice keeping your plush pussy lips together slowly drifted apart as your clit poked through them. He slid the two fingers over your wet clit--the insides of his digits stroking the soft bud, and the outsides stroking the warm inner flesh of your labia. Finally, he turned his palm up, pushed his middle finger inside of your welcoming hole, and trailed the very tip of his tongue from your opening to the pointed end of your edible rose.

“Oh, God...” you whispered. 

Ben took his time--licking every centimeter of your delicious pussy--slurping, sucking, smelling--burying his nose inside to get it sticky. You were helpless under him--pussy melting, ass cheeks sticking together with sweat and arousal. Ben would look up to see your contorted face--your breasts jiggling every time you moaned or groaned. He glanced at the orange sun setting behind you, smiled, and returned his focus to his task. When you grabbed his hair, he pulled away.

“I want your first orgasm from me to be on my dick,” he said, unbuttoning his pants. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you watched him. Once Ben’s pants and boxers were on the floor, he sat on the sofa and gestured for you to come toward him. “Get on top.”

You froze again. 

“Ben, I don’t--”

Suddenly, his long arm reached out and his hand was around your wrist. He yanked you close--your face nearly falling into his lap. 

“Don’t be disobedient, Princess,” he said. You exhaled, and as fast as you could, climbed onto your knees, hiked up your skirt, and threw your leg over Ben’s lap to straddle him. He alleviated some of your worry by holding your left ass cheek in his hand, and his dick with the other. With his help, you slowly sank on his length. He stared at you the entire way down--patient, but hungry. He seemed to have an aversion to showing too much emotion, but you saw his eyebrows scrunch when your hot walls stretched for him--when he felt just how slick you were.

“That’s it, Gorgeous,” he mumbled. He bit his lip and smacked your ass. “Now, bounce on it. That’s your dick...”

You lifted your hips and fell back down with a pained-but-pleasured moan. 

“Give that tight pussy what it needs.”

“Fuck!” you shouted, picking up your pace.

Ben’s hands rested on the bottom of your ass as it jiggled and bounced in the salty, aqueous air. “Shit! Yes! God! Fuck! Ahh!” a chorus of obscenities you sang out to the sky--so loud, so free that the few remaining clouds parted so that the praise of your own pleasure could be heard by the naughty sector of angels. 

You covered him in your juices. Your flesh clapped against his. He’d ripped the bust of your dress and licked the sweat off your breasts. You pulled his hair. You called him Baby, he called you Princess. You screamed “yes!” he grabbed your throat to momentarily trap the sound. The heavens couldn’t have all of your “yeses”--your body needed to absorb some of your beautiful sounds, too. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered--your fingers falling to your clit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you shouted as your clit turned to mush under your fingers--gushing and clenching around Ben’s girth. Your head flew back and your eyes crossed as you rode out your wave. When you came to, you recognized Ben’s grazes against your flesh. 

After a quick, hot kiss, you climbed off his lap and he bent you over the sofa. He sucked at your juice and swallowed sticky cream. And as you observed the waters part for the heavy boat, you felt your walls part once more. Ben buried himself deep inside of your sensitive pussy and leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“You feel so good,” he said. He dragged out of you and slipped back inside. You turned your head in his direction and he found your lips and kissed you with passion--with fire. Then, he slammed into you repeatedly, chasing his own orgasm. He reached around to rub your clit, hoping to bring you to your second.

“No!” you squealed--squirming away from his touch, but he pressed down harder.

“Yes,” he retorted. “I know you’ve got some more in you. Give me another one.”

Feeling the pressure building inside of you again, you bounced back against Ben’s crotch. 

“There you go,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s it. Take what you want, Princess...take what you want...”

Just seconds after you exploded on his fingers and around his rock-hard dick, you felt him pulse inside of you. After a few more strokes, he stilled his movement--and you felt his warm cum spreading around inside of you--filling you up. 

Ben collapsed on your back but quickly crashed onto the sofa--as did you. The two of you caught your breath, then you finished your dessert and champagne. When the sky was completely dark, you’d gone back inside of the boat, washed, and changed into warmer clothes. Then, you went back out onto the deck, cuddled on your christened sofa to look at the stars. “I saw you in a dream,” he said out of nowhere.

“Hmm?”

He ran his fingers up and down your arm. “I dreamed about you before I met you. That’s how I knew you were my girl.”

You smiled and felt the urge to break up the sappiness before you started to tear up. “A genius and a psychic. Are you strong with The Force, too?”

Ben smiled--something he rarely did. “Don’t tease me when I’m being sentimental, Princess.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. You gazed into each other’s eyes, then Ben gave you another kiss and pulled you closer to him. ______________________ Thank you to @bluestarego @ellelaconi @xxcatrenxx @millenialcatlady @mariesackler and @clydes-hole for helping me out with this one!

[lilyharvord]

I’m not sure whether you take prompts in general and if you would for the shades of magic but here we go just in case :) you know in a gathering of shadows when alucard barges into lila and kell, I’ve always thought he would give her shit about it but never knew what the conversation would be so that idk?your writing is also amazing and you’re so talented

AAAHAHHAHAHAHAHA Okay I’m so excited because you’re the first person to ask me to do a Shade of Magic Prompt???!!! I am totally open to doing prompts, my ask box is always open ((((: . (hella nervous cause this would be my first intro to the fandom, but I’m so here for this!!!!) *cracks knuckles* I did it. ((((: 

Sometimes, Delilah Bard wanted to watch the world burn. It was nothing personal, never. But sometimes, it needed to burn. And right now, as she lost another round of Sanct to Alucard, it needed to go up like a tinder box. 

“You’re cheating.” She grumbled, tossing her cards unceremoniously onto the pile. Her old captain smirked, the little white scar above his eye where his sapphire used to rest crinkling 

“That is how one plays Sanct, Bard.” He laughed as he pulled the pile of loot towards him. Fingering a particularly nice precious stone that Lila had been loath to give up, he smirked. “I’ll play you in another round just to show you.” 

“I’ve already emptied my pockets, and I don’t plan to lose anything else.” Lila pushed her chair back along the plush carpet of his rooms. Reaching for her half full glass of dark red liquid, she gazed out at the Isle, glowing faintly in the evening light. 

Resting the rim of the glass against her lip, she tried to ignore the beauty of the view. She didn’t miss it like Kell did, but whenever they did return, she found herself having a hard time leaving it behind as the Nightspire pulled away from dock. While her mind had stopped chanting run whenever she felt that gentle tug she associated with staying put, she still refused to admit she wanted to remain in London. The sea was still her calling... and it didn’t hurt being captain of her own ship. 

The past few months they had been away had been harder on Kell than ever before. It had been almost three years since Osaron, and yet that pain had never left him. He waved her concern away at every turn, but it didn’t stop her from asking around in markets and taverns. Subtle questions about magic and it’s loss. She blamed Holland, of course, he had been the one still drawing on their magic in the end. A little warning could have saved them the pain Kell dealt with now. 

Her brow creased and her reflection in the polished glass mimicked it. The other Antari had long been quiet. Kell didn’t speak of him, and Lila didn’t exactly mind that. It still worried her though. 

“Gold for your thoughts?” 

“You have all my gold.” Lila forced a smirk, her short cropped hair shifting as she glanced over her shoulder. 

“Very well,” Alucard sighed as he leaned back in his chair and took up his own glass of wine, “I’m thinking that if those two don’t hurry up I’m going to die of boredom in this very room.” 

“How regrettable.” Lila bemoaned mockingly, before sipping at her drink. It was sweeter than any wine he had ever given her but just as rich, if not richer. Being a close confidant of the King certainly helped support her friend’s expensive tastes. 

“It is regrettable, Bard. Because I’ll blame that royal pain-in-the-ass for it, and then who will keep you company on those long voyages?” His lips curled into a rapier sharp grin as he gazed at her over the rim of his glass. 

Setting her glass back down on the table and standing over the captain turned noble turned consort, Lila frowned down at him. Her fingers danced to the knife strapped into her thigh, hidden beneath the lovely new coat she had bought today. It had even more pockets and straps for her to hang and hide knives, much to Kell’s chagrin when she showed him. Alucard didn’t appear the slightest bit swayed by her posturing though, in fact, his eyes burned with mischief at the sight of her reaction. 

“I do not need constant companionship, unlike you.” She ran her fingertip along the rim of her glass, calling up a bead of wine that she flicked his direction. He barely swiped it out of the way before it could splatter on his pristine white shirt. it plopped onto the table, and Lila laughed at his offended expression before lifting the glass completely to down the last of that delicious, honey sweet wine. 

“That’s not what I saw years ago.” Alucard’s grin returned in full force when she set the glass back onto the table, earning Lila’s full attention with those words. Her brow quirked in speculation, and she drummed her fingers on the table, awaiting a further explanation. 

Searching her memories for what he could possibly be referring to, she settled on a faint one of a closet sized cabin. A rush of heat bloomed along her cheeks, and she pushed off the table. “You’re insufferable.” 

Howling with laughter at Lila’s retreat, Alucard swept up the cards from their games and shuffled them once more. “Play me in another round of Sanct,” he said with a wink, “and if you win, I’ll pretend I never saw that little... interaction.” 

“There was nothing to see.” Lila slammed her hands on the table, furious that he would pick something she was so obviously poor at. If he had chosen something else, perhaps like magic, or knife throwing, or even pickpocketing she would have agreed to the wager. 

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen that royal bastard so flushed and bothered. Looked like there was plenty either about to happen or had just happened.” Alucard bridged the cards to shuffle them, lifting his eyes to Lila’s mismatched ones for a heartbeat. That glossy black orb she had for a black eye winked in the light as she jeered at him for his comment. 

“Nothing happened.” Lila reiterated as she picked up her glass to pour herself another one. Insufferable, he was so insufferable. Perhaps she should chuck him in the Isle, watch him paddle to the side and get out dripping wet. Then again, Rhy might thank her for that. On second thought, maybe she should bury him in the floor up to his waist, or perhaps open a door into a wind blown bluff and leave him there. 

The whisper of cards skidding across the table filled the silence as Lila lifted her now full glass back to her lips and drank deeply. When she glanced over her shoulder, Alucard waved an inviting hand to the table. “Tell you what,” he said before leaning his elbows forward and smirking at her, “if you agree to play another hand with me, I’ll stop bothering you about it.” 

It seemed a little too good to be true. Something like that was bound to keep Alucard entertained for years to come. He wouldn’t give leverage up so easily, unless he had gone soft during his time in the palace, which Lila very much doubted. 

Slinking back to the table, she sat with a grunt in her chair and tapped the cards she had been dealt. “What do you get out of it?”

“Well,” picking up his cards, Alucard shrugged, “just because I stopped annoying you with it, doesn’t mean I won’t go after our lovely black eyed prince about it.” 

Lila’s mouth opened to refute him, and tell him to leave Kell alone about the whole thing. He was like a skittish pony where topics like that were concerned. If Alucard brought it up... Christ help them all. She hesitated a moment though, a bright smile pull on her lips. Oh he would go as red as his hair if Alucard brought it up, and he’d stammer and stumble to try and defend himself, or her honor. Oh it might just be worth the entertainment. 

Chuckling to herself, Lila lifted up the cards and grinned at the three saints in her hand. “If I win, I want that hat you have hanging over there.” She pointed the midnight blue one, with the peacock feather sticking out of it. It would complete her new ensemble, and as a captain it was only fitting that she have nice things like that. 

Alucard frowned, and glanced warily in the direction of the hat. Chuckling to himself, he laid his cards face down again and reached for the lin in his pile. Tossing it to the center of the table, he winked, “if you lose, I bring that story up in front of the entire court.” 

Lila reached into her pocket for the remaining two lin she had and pressed them to the table. With a wicked grin, she slid them into the pile and said, “very well.” 

[eratobard]

Saved by the Bell: Chapter 7

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Geraskier, Geralt x Jaskier

Rating: G

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

~~~

They headed back to Jaskier’s room while his parents prepared dinner. Geralt frowned as he held his stomach. It was still hurting. He laid on the bed next to Jaskier. He tried to muffle a whine as he rolled onto his back. 

Jaskier looked up from his homework, “Geralt? Are you okay?”

Geralt exhaled slowly and shook his head, “I’m fine.”

Jaskier scooted closer, and hovered above him. Geralt’s heart beat rapidly. Jaskier’s bangs dangled away from his face as he leaned over Geralt. His blue eyes examined Geralt’s face closely, a mere inches away, “You look… like you are in pain. Do you need medicine?”

Geralt averted his gaze, “I… my stomach hurts a bit. It sometimes does when I am in an unfamiliar place or situation…”

Jaskier tilted his head, his lower lip pouted in concern. He placed his hand on Geralt’s stomach, “Is there something I can do?”

Geralt shrugged his shoulders, “It um... usually gets better when I’m at home… where I can relax.”

Jaskier hummed and traced his fingers over Geralt’s arm, “I think I can help with that.”

Geralt’s face grew warm, “What do you mean--” He was cut off by Jaskier wrapping a blanket around him, and putting a pillow under his head.

Jaskier grinned as he bounced off the bed and skipped over to his instruments in the corner of the room. He grabbed what looked like a small guitar and plopped onto the bed next to Geralt. “I’ll sing your anxiety away.”

Geralt chuckled, “And how do you propose you will do that?”

Jaskier whispered conspiratorially, “By singing, ‘Old McDoodle’.”

Geralt quirked an eyebrow, “Old McDonald?”

“No, no,” Jaskier shook his head, “‘Old McDoodle’.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s Old McDonald,” Geralt smirked.

Jaskier waved him off, “I would know Geralt. I wrote the song.”

Geralt scoffed, “You wrote Old McDonald?”

Jaskier sighed and shook his head, “No. I wrote ‘Old McDoodle’. Now please Geralt. Don’t interrupt.” He stared at him pointedly, his face serious, but he couldn’t stay serious for long and eventually broke out into a smile as he strummed the first chord.

“Old McDoodle had a farm. Eyo Eyo Why?”

Jaskier looked up from strumming, “I don’t know Geralt. Why does anyone have a farm? That’s not the point.” He continued singing.

“And on that farm he had a…?”

He looked up expectantly, waiting for Geralt to answer.

Geralt shrugged his shoulders, “Um… Cow?”

Jaskier sighed and rolled his eyes, “I said don’t interrupt. Yes. He had a cow. Eyo eyo, why?” He winked and Geralt couldn’t help but giggle. Geralt watched Jaskier’s hands as his fingers expertly plucked at the strings.

“With a--” Jaskier placed his palm against his lips and produced a loud fart noise. Geralt’s eyes widened in surprise as Jaskier continued to sing the verse. Inserting fart noises where Geralt would have expected a ‘moo’.

“Here a- fart noise- there a -fart noise-. Every where a -fart noise-. Having farms is a stinky affair,” Jaskier sighed, shaking his head sadly. “Old McDoodle had a farm, and who the hell knows why!”

Jaskier smiled setting aside his ukulele, “And that’s the song.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow, “He only had the one farm animal then?”

Jaskier nodded, “Ol Jacqueline. Named after his one true love. Lost her in a dairy fire. So he bought a cow and named it after her.” He looked down solemnly.

Geralt snorted, “So, you know why he has a farm.”

Jaskier stared at him incredulously, “Of course Geralt. I wrote the song.”

Geralt chuckled, “Ah, of course.”

Jaskier rested his hand under his chin and stared at Geralt expectantly.

Geralt blushed, “...what is it?”

Jaskier huffed, “Aren’t you going to ask what a dairy fire is?”

“Right,” Geralt smirked, “I was wondering.”

Jaskier continued to stare at him expectantly.

“...what’s a dairy fire?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier beamed, “I’m glad you asked. She ate too much dairy and farted herself to death. Thus why Ol Jacqueline is perfect.”

Geralt laughed at the ridiculousness of the story. He wouldn’t have thought a story like that would have made him laugh so hard. Maybe it was because it was Jaskier telling it. His stomach did feel better. He definitely felt more relaxed. 

A loud fart ripped near the two of them. Geralt blushed as his eyes widened in embarrassment. He had felt a little too relaxed.

Jaskier smirked and patted his arm, “Better out than in. I bet your stomach feels a lot better now.” 

Geralt covered his face in embarrassment, “Yeah… but… I farted in your bed.”

Jaskier laughed and laid across Geralt’s stomach, “I fart in my bed all the time. I don’t mind if you do.”

Geralt peaked out from under his hands, “That’s different. No one wants to smell someone else’s farts.”

Jaskier arched an eyebrow, “Wanna bet?” He lifted up the blanket he had laid over Geralt and covered his head as he trapped himself under the blanket with the fart.

Geralt shrieked in horror as he tried to pull the blanket off him, “Jaskier! Don’t! It probably smells really bad!”

Jaskier sniffed loudly, “Smells great!” Geralt continued to try and wrestle Jaskier out from under the blanket when Mr. Pankratz knocked on the door frame.

Geralt froze, his heart stopping in his chest, “Mr. Pankratz…”

Jaskier stilled then quickly pulled the blanket off his head, “Dad! It’s not what it looks like.”

Mr. Pankratz’s face was mostly serious, but a small smirk formed at the corner of his lips, “Dinner’s ready. Be sure to wash up.”

Jaskier huffed a sigh as his father left. He grumbled, “I wish he didn’t trust me so much.”

Geralt stared at Jaskier in shock, “Why?”

Jaskier shrugged, “I don’t know. More entertaining?”

“Well… he does make you leave the bedroom door open,” Geralt offered.

“That’s true, but…” He leaned in closer, a smirk on his lips, “we could also give him something to worry about.”

Geralt blushed, swallowing the lump in his throat, “...like… what?”

Jaskier opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

“I don’t hear you washing your hands,” Mr. Pankratz shouted from the other room.

“Let them alone dear, it’s not like one of them will get pregnant,” Mrs. Pankratz cooed.

There was a grunt and some muffled arguing between the two as Jaskier hopped off the bed. Jaskier smirked and motioned for Geralt to follow, “Come on, let’s go eat.”

Geralt wondered how red his face was as he followed Jaskier out of the room.

~~~

They all sat at the dining room table. Geralt didn’t realize how hungry he was until the delicious scent of the meal wafted in front of his nose. 

Jaskier grinned as he leaned over and whispered to him, “Smells good. Not as good as your farts though.” He winked.

Geralt groaned at Jaskier’s terrible joke and shook his head, “You need to get your olfactory system checked.”

Jaskier raised his eyebrows, “My what system?”

“Your nose,” Geralt chuckled.

Jaskier hummed and piled mashed potatoes on his and Geralt’s respective plates. “Maybe you could check it for me later. We could play doctor. It starts in the mouth, right?”

Geralt’s face must have been beet red, because his dad decided to intervene on his behalf.

“Jaskier, it’s rude to whisper at the dinner table. Why don’t you tell your mother how school was today.”

Jaskier frowned as he grabbed another dish and loaded their plates with it. “It was fine. Nothing to write home about.”

“In a way, that’s what I’m asking you to do anyway. I heard from Principal De Vries that you were disrespectful to the secretary?” Mr. Pankratz raised an eyebrow.

“She was disrespectful first! She was completely rude to Geralt, treating him like some kind of criminal.”

Geralt moved his mashed potatoes around his plate nervously. He wondered if this would be the last straw and they would pull him out of school. He should say something to defend him. “It’s- it’s not his fault sir,” Geralt tried to look at Jaskier’s father, but couldn’t manage it. He continued anyway, “I um, am not very good with words… and… well… Jaskier was only sticking up for me… please don’t take him out of school.”

Mrs. Pankratz frowned as she gently smacked her husband on the arm, “Look what you did. You scared the poor boy with your grumbly glare. He thinks you're mad at Julian.”

Mr. Pankratz frowned, “I’m not--.” He sighed and softened his features as he turned to Geralt. “I’m not going to take him out of school. Where did you get that idea?”

After a moment the three of them all turned toward Jaskier. Jaskier’s gaze shifted away as he grabbed the mashed potatoes again, “Um… more potatoes Geralt?”

Geralt didn’t protest as more was stacked on top of the already high mound on his plate.

Mr. Pankratz sighed, “Jaskier, we talked about over embellishing your stories.”

Jaskier pouted, “I know… I’m sorry.” He turned to Geralt and grabbed his hand, holding it between his, “I didn’t realize you would take my over exaggeration seriously. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Geralt blushed and nodded his head. Gazing into those perfect blue eyes, he wasn’t sure how he couldn’t. 

Jaskier beamed, “Wonderful! Problem solved.”

“Not exactly.”

Jaskier grimaced. He was hoping they had forgotten.

“It seems like you know how to apologize. So first thing tomorrow morning you can apologize to the school secretary.”

Jaskier groaned and laid his head dramatically on Geralt’s shoulder, “But dad… she was so mean to Geralt.”

“Someone else’s rude behavior does not constitute rude behaviour back. I’m not her parent, but I am yours. So I expect you to do the right thing.”

Mrs. Pankratz smiled reassuringly, “I know it’s hard honey, but it’s our duty as your parents to instill in you good values. When you’re an adult you can choose to leave them at the door and be as rude to as many assholes as you like.”

Mr. Pankratz growled, “Lilia…”

She smiled and booped him on the nose, “Yes Alfred dear?”

He sighed and shook his head, “Nevermind… let’s eat.”

Geralt tried to hide his smirk as he watched the dynamic of Jaskier’s family. It seemed Mr. Pankratz had his hands full, but luckily he didn’t seem to mind.

~~~

After dinner, Jaskier and Geralt helped clean off the table. His father informed them he would be driving Geralt home.

Mrs. Pankratz pouted, “I was going to take our guest home. I wanted to know all about him and Julian.”

“Which is why I’m doing it. To spare our guest your numerous questions,” Mr. Pankratz grinned and planted a kiss on her forehead.

She gasped in protest, “Traitor! You should want to know! For our son’s well-being! He could die single and alone!”

“Nothing wrong with being single, but I don’t think we have to worry about him dying alone.” He turned to Geralt and Jaskier, “Thank you boys for your help. Go pack up your things so we can head on out. Don’t want to keep your mother waiting.”

Jaskier nodded and pulled Geralt along back to his bedroom. He bounced onto his bed as he watched Geralt pack up his school supplies. “Your mom always work this late?”

Geralt nodded, zipping up his backpack, “Usually. She works the night shift.”

Jaskier rolled onto his stomach and kicked his legs back and forth, “Maybe we could have a sleep over sometime? Watch movies, and stay up late.”

Geralt smiled, “...that would be fun.”

“Great!” Jaskier jumped up, “I’ll tell my dad to ask your mom and they can set up a time.” He grabbed Geralt’s hand and dragged him back out to the living room.

“Got everything?” Jaskier’s dad asked.

Jaskier nodded, interlacing his fingers with Geralt’s, “Yup!”

Geralt stared at his feet, his cheeks feeling warm. He gently squeezed Jaskier’s hand back.

Mrs. Pankratz was sitting on the couch brooding, “Have a safe trip…”

Mr. Pankratz kissed her on the head as he walked by, “See you when we get back.”

She glared at him, “Not if I see you first!” He arched an eyebrow at her.

Jaskier rolled his eyes, “Bye mom, see you in a bit.”

They piled into the car. Jaskier let go of Geralt’s hand as they crawled in, but immediately grabbed it again when they had buckled up and settled. 

“Hey dad, Geralt had the great idea that we should have a sleep over the next time his mom works late,” Jaskier beamed.

“Did he now?” Mr. Pankratz glanced back at them using the rear view mirror. “I’ll talk to his mother and see what she says.”

Geralt fidgeted nervously under his gaze. He wondered if he should come clean and say it was Jaskier’s idea, but considering their dynamic his father probably already knew.

Jaskier gazed at their entwined fingers, caressing Geralt’s finger tips with his free hand, “Your finger nails are so beautiful.”

“They’re just finger nails…” Geralt mumbled.

Jaskier shook his head adamantly, his brunette locks swaying with the force, “Not just any. They’re yours, and everything about you is gorgeous.” He smiled and rested his head on his shoulder.

Geralt’s heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t know what to say, how to react. Jaskier didn’t seem to mind, so he sat quietly until they reached his house.

Geralt’s mom waved at them as they pulled up. She smiled at Geralt as he walked up and hugged her.

“Have a good time?” 

He nodded as she smoothed down his long white hair.

“I’m glad.”

Jaskier leaned out the window as he waved goodbye, “See you tomorrow at school!”

Geralt waved back as they pulled out of the driveway. He couldn’t wait.

~~~

A/N: Sorry for the long delay. I didn’t mean for this update to take as long as it did, but such is life. Let me know if you want me to remove or add you to the tag list! If your name isn’t underlined it’s because something in your settings is preventing me from tagging you. So if you want to be notified by tumblr check your settings. :)

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[kaiju-z]

Seon Adventures Episode 38: Bathhouses and Bonds

After a month of travel, successfully retrieving the King’s Blade, Ena, learning who their client is, i. e. Akar’Niel and choosing to learn more about the circumstances of the mass elimination of dwarves and dragonborn on Seon, the party have reached Guan.

And straight off the bat, no pun intended, the group discover they are followed by an imp. After a quick discussion on whether to take it down or not, Malak stils his hand from sending the denizen of Hell back home, as it approaches the group.

Through a quick inspection of the party, the shape changing critter flies over to Mournimar and delivers the Tiefling Ranger a Sending Stone, of a blue diamond make. After which it does a JoJo pose and poofs.

As stated previously, this was a Sending Stone, allowing someone to cast 2 sending messages a day. But only to the person that has the other one. Rocky Talkies, as Malak puts it. (Or Hayden, I’m not sure. They’re both wholesome and we love them).

Mournimar gets that explained to him and calls the person that gifted it to him. And he hears a familiar voice from the other end say " Well you are alive, then!”. Much to the tiefling’s frustration, he recognizes the voice as that of his ex-boyfriend, Lazarus, follower of Potencia.

Mourni tries to ask what he wants, but instead Lazarus does the “kh-kh” noise (you know the one, where someone does a double pistols and a wink???) and that’s about all the messaging that goes on for that day.

Again. Much to Mournimar’s frustration.

Malak suggests getting rid of the stone. But Mournimar wants to keep it.

Luck suggests flipping a coin and he even brings one out from his journal bag. But Jun suggests Mournimar hold onto it and in the end, they agree on that.

(Also Mournimar gets a praise from Jun, which makes him feel validated).

The rest of the day passes uneventfully and they carry on, as the ground beneath their feet becomes more and more rocky. WIth the most perceptive in the party taking note that there’s a slight silhouette in the near distance of a town.

During the night, Belli receives a dream, like everyone else, but Mournimar, before her. As everyone had kept their dreams to themselves, for the following day, the group find themselves walking into a small and cozy town, which Arryn guesses would be Sodinvorg, most likely.

Very different from what the group had been used to so far. In a wasteland such as this (which funny enough is the right temperature for Luctan to feel at straight up at home?!) Sodinvorg’s constructed of tall buildings made out of clay, all painted red, white or red and white. Most split in multiple flats as they can tell from the windows. A variety of people in the windows, mostly Yuan-Ti, Kobolds, Tabaxi and Lizardfolk.

People here know each other and are close, mingling with each other.

Notable locations are the bathhouse, the tavern and the marketplace.

Luctan makes a b-line for the bathhouse, all excited and swept under the positive nostalgia of the enviroment he find himself in, with Jun joining him, all the while Belli would go and buy certain supplies. Cement included for some reason?! And then go to the apothecary.

A pair of young lizardfolk women run the bathhouse, which the pair of Jun and Luck can discern is constructed very intricately and with a style to it. (The place is essentially a roman bathhouse.)

Mournimar woud go to the Rolls and Scrolls place, where one could buy spell scrolls and delicious breads, as advertised, while Malak would check with the antique shop.

Inside the bath house, Jun takes on her mask of a beautiful Drow woman, named Valencia, having noted that there aren’t really any humans in the area.  Valencia is a bit posh. Long white hair in a bun.

As they score themselves a place in the bath, The Disguise Duo enjoy a relaxing bath, unbothered by the cramped and crowded enviroment, as they are  confident about themselves and their bodies.

No juicy gossip in the area and even if there was, a loud comment about Mommy Milkers from another of the patrons would distract the duo.

Arryn eventually joins the two, but after an unfortunate bomb dive goes wrong, he leaves, as the pool was too shallow for any acrobatics. Luctan’s Healing Word aids him in recovering from at least the physical pain, at least.

The duo have another talk, where Luck learns of Jun’s origins. Though she began her careers in Sa Doma, she was originally from  Elmeria. Which, to say the least, was a neat coincidence, as the party had gotten their initial name there, when asked by Morticia.

Jun would share that, given her race as a Changeling, few doors were truly open for her, as a Shapeshifter in a world that had a bias against them, and so, the bounty hunting life and that of an escort were ones that she could slip into easily. Luck would bemoan her fate, how opportunities were taken from her due to things she couldn’t help. But was glad for her being able to make the best of it.

“When one door closes, another opens”, the two would agree.

Luck would tell her his story, in turn, being candid about the facts, though, naturally, given they were speaking around others, he’d of course avoid using the “H” word as to where he had come from. Besides, the yalready knew about that from the fight at the barn.

Luck would come to a point, admitting that he was unsure what to do with himself now. He was content helping people, but he had no plan on what to do with himself now, when he didn’t take on the rest of his revenge quest.

Jun encourages him to take the time and consider. And she’d admit that conversations weren’t generally something people would approach her for, given her non-violent work ethic.

But Luck would compliment her for her talk, appreciating being able to talk openly with her on matters. Jun would note that he was about the 3rd person to praise her for that.

Meanwhile, at the Rolls and Scrolls, Mournimar spends big money on several rolls and scrolls, making Matiro, the Yuan-Ti’s day with all the cash that comes his way.

Feather Fall, Aid, Calm Emotions and Find Steed are all bought and paid for by the Ranger, with the latter three being bought for a collective 500 gold.

Furthemore, the tiefling buys 7 loafs of bread, for the party and Arryn.

And then. Before he leaves, Mournimar leaves the man a tip of 5 platinum. And upon leaving, he can distinctly hear the Yuan-Ti scurry off, screaming to a friend: “PHILLIP! I’M IN LOVE!”

At a convergence point, Mournimar gets a gold piece from Jun and a pat on the head. Getting validated by an older female figure boosts his morale. Quite evident from his tail wagging like crazy.

From the calico Tabaxi, Jolly Sunrise, proprietor of “ Happy Belly Rubs “, Belli gets a healing herb, a root that healing potions are made from. 

(It is at this point that we spend 10 minutes on Tabaxi bathroom name jokes. It’s just-you had to be there.)

Jolly makes a “Jolly Secret Rub”, which gives the party 1d8 Temp Hp. Gives special smelling salts, which are used as Spare The Dying as a bonus action. 165 worth. And lastly, upon Belli’s request, she delivers onto the Half-Orc Bard a pair of extra spicy peppers, referred to as “Dragon’s Breath”.

“Don’t give it to halflings. It could genuinely kill them.” she would note.

Also Belli learns that Jolly has a tiefling brother. Due to his fire resistance, she had learned that these could kill anoyone, without fire resistance. (Though that could’ve been a joke0

After the bread, the party go to the Cozy Leaf. An older tabaxi man, orange and graying around the nose, heads the place. He has a menu. There’s coffee, milk, honey milk. Maple Milk! The man’s name is Leaf On The Water. He has a strange clockwork device playing relaxing music nearby, giving the place a wholesome atmosphere.

His Grandson, an Artificer, built this contraption. Travels and sends new stuff to the old cat.  There’s a stick figure drawing at the counter, drawn by the youngest in the family, his granddaughter. The grandson is taller than him. Grandson is 30. Grand Daughter is 3.

There’s even a portrait that gets showcased of the family. One big orange family. Himself, his three kids and his two grandkids.

Most of the group, but the bearded ones, get themselves a warm beverage. Honey Milk and Maple Milk.

While the patrty slowly unwind for the day, Belli asks Jun if she has any expertise with chemicals. Interesting enough, the Bloodhunter does have skills with alchemy supplies. And the two work on making  pepper spray. Super. Spicy. Pepper Spray.

Malak find himself buying several items from the antique shop, run by the kobolds Zett and Nix, Red and Bronze respectively.

From the items presented to him, he takes what he could consider lucky charms.

Among them a coin of a strange material, a stone figurine of a snake, as well as a small silver rod with no decoration. It makes a harp noise. Notably,  the rod gives off faint evocation magic.

Before purchasing these, he asks the Kobolds, just to be sure, that they hadn’t pilfered these from any gravesights and the like. They specify that any item they have in their shop has been brought in from families, who found no use for them.

They are established businessmen here. And the price for the collection of items bought is 25 silver. Enough to cover rent for the month.

Malak thanks them in Draconic and leaves after the monetary exchange.

At the end of the day, as everyone prepares for the night’s rest in the tavern, Jun keeps an ear and eye out for gossip, while Mournimar takes a single room for himself (and Morgan).

One, where he has himself his own little dream.

End of Episode.

Previous Episode / Next Episode

[twit-moonstar]

Up for a long time - Brian May x Reader

A/N: This was for a hosted Valentine’s day secret santa but I couldn’t finished it in time bc life. I am really sorry I’m posting this so late

Please consider reblogging and commenting what do you think about the fic

Warnings: none (just a note: this is situated on 1977/1978)

Words: 2K+

Summary: Y/N was invited by Brian May to accompany him during the Sheer Heart Attack tour and as its ending gets closer, she expresses her sadness over having to say him goodbye soon, unless… maybe she doesn’t have to.

 A blissful sigh left Brian’s lips as you cuddle against his side, his long fingers petting your hair lazily. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could stay here forever, just the two of us? I’m gonna miss this,” you say with melancholy, as if you parting ways was a matter of fact—because, well, it was. What were the chances that he would want to keep seeing you? He was a guitarist in a rising band that was getting more and more famous. You were beginning to feel sad at the thought of missing him even if you were still by his side. It was strange to you how at ease he makes you feel even though you meet barely two months ago. It’s not an everyday occurrence that a cute musician invites you to come along on tour with his band to America but you weren’t stupid enough to miss on this chance. Besides, he had a certain charm that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, like he wasn’t even trying. Just like that, he could smile, and you would do anything he asked. A few minutes passed, in which he didn’t replied, and you started to think about what you had said. Did you cross a line there? Was that inappropriate? But being with him felt so right… and you were sure he felt the same way about you. Well, you were until now. Finally, he spoke. “What if you didn’t have to?” You smiled, feeling relief that he wasn’t weirded out by your comment. “What? What do you mean?” “What if - if we got married?” His words were shaky, his voice soft and quiet in the dim room. You look up at him. “Are you joking? Because, let me you tell you, it’s not funny,” you state. He shakes his head no. “I’m not.“ You get away from him, sitting up on the bed to look at him. It’s hard to describe the look on his eyes, it’s very serious but also a little dreamy, like he has his head on the clouds. And you might be the very reason why. “Really?” You say softly as if you were expecting him to laugh and declare it was indeed a joke but you know him well; he would never be so cruel. Your mother once told you that you must see a man getting happy, tired, sad and, above all, angry and stressed before you got married. She believed that if you saw him in such states, you would know if you were ready to handle sharing your life with him. Despite knowing him for so little time, you had already seen how he acted when he wasn’t feeling well and it never seemed like something that you couldn’t soothe. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Well, then,” you smiled, “ask me properly.” “Y/N Y/L/N, would to make me the honour of being my wife?” “Yes!” you exclaimed, throwing yourself to him and embracing him on a tight hug. He took your face between his hands and kissed you, smiling when you broke apart. “Well, then, we’re engaged now.”

“When– when do you want to do it, though?” You asked. You wouldn’t lie, you weren’t able to contain your excitement. You were going to get married! It felt like a dream, like you would wake up in any moment in an empty bed on the hotel. “Tomorrow maybe?” Brian suggested. “It’s my day off before we get going to the next city.” “Okay,” you accepted. “While you’re at rehearsal, I’ll make sure we have what we need to do it.” He kissed you again. “Alright but first, let’s get breakfast.”

Standing in front of a little mirror on the reception, you check your lipstick, even though Brian said he wouldn’t pay for any photographs here—both of you were afraid they would be leaked and all over the magazines. Despite all the paparazzi constantly following the band, Brian had done his best effort to protect your privacy as much as he could and you weren’t quite ready to give up your anonymity just yet. Besides, you were aware that a secret wedding with a woman Brian met just three months ago wouldn’t do wonders for his reputation. A pair of hands sneaked up on your waist, hugging you softly. “Are you ready?” He whispered on your ear. You turned around, your arms surrounding his neck. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” you assure him and his lips curve up into a smile. A blonde woman came up to you—her name was Marie, according to the tag on her blazer— and cleared her throat. “Excuse me, the venue is ready. Follow me, please,” she said and started walking you guide you. She opened the door and a wedding march started to sound as you entered the room and walked towards the altar, Brian holding your hand the entire time. The Victorian Venue was beautiful, so beautiful you almost regretted eloping—though both Roger and Freddie weren’t at the hotel and Deacy and Veronica were with their kids—. It was a large room, simply decorated with cascading silk drapes and a pair of pillars with candelabras as the wedding altar. It was all very white, and you were glad you had chosen to wear a light blue dress that contrasted with the room. The officiant, a middle aged men, looked as you stand in front of each other. Brian had a smile plastered across his face, reaching his hazel eyes and illuminating his beautiful features. “Brian May and Y/N Y/L/N, today you enter as individuals, but you will leave here as husband and wife, blending your lives, expanding your family ties, and embarking upon the grandest adventure of human interaction,” the officiant said. “Brian and Y/N, remember to treat yourselves and each other with respect, and remind yourselves often of what brought you together. Take responsibility for making the other feel safe and give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness and kindness that your connection deserves. Please, repeat after me–” “Actually, I’d like to have the word,” you interrupt him, shyly, and Brian looks at you with surprise. You hadn’t discussed having your own vows and he clearly didn’t expected it but you had been thinking about them since last night. “Of course.” “I - I know that for anyone outside us this will look rushed after only a few weeks but in that time you have made me the happiest I’ve ever been. I’ve seen you in the most intimate situations and I know I’m ready to spend my life with you. It might not be easy– but nothing every really is and I’m ready to whatever is coming at us.” Brian’s smile and eyes were warm, full of fondness. His hands squeezed yours briefly, a silent ‘I love you.’ “Y/N, meeting you wasn’t on my plans. I’d have never guessed that I’d fall so hard, so fast for you but your sweet ways, your genuine excitement for life and new experiences, your energy and the passion you put on everything you do made me feel like a fifteen years old boy falling in love for the first time. I am enchanted by you, and I’m so happy I get the chance to try to make you as happy as you make me.” You feel your smile getting bigger, so wide it almost hurted but you didn’t cared. It was a nice kind of pain, it meant you couldn’t contain the happiness you were feeling inside you and for a moment you thought about how you wanted to proclaim to the entire world that you were married to the lofe of your life. You squeezed his hands for a second. You both let go of your hands to get the rings. His was one he already had but rarely used and yours was one you had bought on a market on one of your solo adventures exploring the city while he was working. They weren’t permanent rings; “I promise I’ll get you a proper ring once we’re on London again,” he had said, and you assured him you were okay with these as of now. Despite the band’s success, you knew he wasn’t really getting much money and didn’t care he didn’t buy an expensive ring. “Brian May, please repeat after me as you place the ring on Y/N Y/L’s ring. With this ring, I thee wed and pledge you my love, now and forever.” “With this ring, I thee wed and pledge you my love, now and forever,” he recited softly as he put the ring on you finger. After you repeat it, you both sign the marriage certificate and the officiant finally says the words that linked your lives for the rest of it. “By the authority vested in my by the State of San Francisco, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride!” Brian did as told, reaching down to kiss you softly, taking his time to show you how much he loved you on his gentle movements. “I love you, Mrs. May,,” he said once you broke apart. You giggle. “I love you too, Mr May.”

“Honey, I’m home!” Brian exclaimed, and you hear the closing door. You smile as he enters the room and leaves the box with Chinese food on the little table in front of the couch. You sit properly and take a look at what he brought. “My hero! I was starving,” you say and he smiles. After a week of living on Brian’s apartment using his clothes, you had finally gotten around to your old apartment and got your stuff. It was mostly books, clothes and some decorative ornaments; you didn’t have any furniture except for your bookshelf—and a mattress that you had already sold. Brian was helping you to put everything in place, but you were hungry and send him to get food—your treat. “They didn’t have fried rice, but I brought you Chow Mei,” he says, opening the box for you to see. The smell is delicious, and your stomach seems to rush you to eat when it growls. “That’s fine,” you say and take your noodles. “Do you need help?” Brian chuckles as you struggle with the chopsticks. You pout and nod. He takes his own stick. “The trick is to just move the top stick, the other has to stay still,” Brian shows you as he takes a piece of tofu with ease. You imitate him ans after a few tries, you finally succeed. “It’s way more difficult when you’re eating noodles,” you say before Brian’s amused gaze. “Do you want to try?” He asks, holding a piece of his tofu to you. You lean, doubtful, and take a bite. It tastes spicy and hot, so you swallow it and drink a little soda. “What does it have?” “Lots of pepper,” he replies. “It’s good, but I wouldn’t eat too much,” you say honestly and he smiles as he eats. “It’s an acquired taste, I guess.” “I want to go back to college,” you comment after a while and he smiles at you, interested. “To study Law again?” “No, that’s… that’s what my parents pushed me to do. I’ll like to study something related to Theatre, maybe. I don’t know, but I need to do something. I don’t like just being lying around,” you say softly. The week living with Brian, having no responsibilities was nice but you needed to do something. Besides, you wouldn’t let Brian pay for all the bills. You were a team now, and you needed (and wanted) to do your part. “I was also thinking maybe I could give some piano or bass lessons, to get some money,” “That’s a great idea,” he nods with a smile and you can’t help but smile too. “I can help you with some posters to promote your classes.” “That would be very nice,” you reply, leaning towards him and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Hey, I have a surprise for you!” Brian suddenly says and gets up quickly, walking into the room and coming back after finding whatever he was looking for. He sits next to you and takes your hand, looking briefly at the ring you used to get married before looking at you. “Remember when we stayed at my parents’ house for the weekend?” You smile. “Of course I do. I was nervous as hell the whole drive. And during dinner. Basically all three days.” “Well, you had nothing to worry about because my mother loved you and actually gave me this for you.” He shows you a ring. It was made from gold and had one single tiny round diamond. Your mouth hangs open as Brian takes off your old ring and puts the golden on your finger. “Do you like it?” He sounds anxious as you simply stare at the ring and the way it shines beautifully with the natural light coming from the windows. “It’s beautiful,” you say, moving your hand so the light reflects off the ring. You finally look at him. “Did you say your mother gave you this?” He nods. “I can’t accept this,” you say, starting to take it off but he takes your hands to stop you. “Why not?” “Because it’s real, Bri! This diamond is real and probably worth good money, who knows how much your parents spent on it?” “It was my grandmother’s and she isn’t… she’s dead.” “Oh.” You look at the ring. “Still, why would your mother give me this? She barely knows me.” “Because she liked you and sees why I married you,” he said, cupping your cheek with his hand and caressing your skin with his thumb. “Besides, she saw you didn’t have a ring and said it was unacceptable. This is actually an engagement one but let’s ignore that.” You smile. “Alright, I’m going to keep it as long as you love me.” “Well, get used to it because you’re up for a long time,” Brian says and brings you to his lap to give you a soft kiss.

[justreadingfics]

Looking For a Heartbeat (10/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Series Summary: You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left. It’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?

Chapter Summary: A suspicion is confirmed.

Word Count: ~3k

Warnings for this chapter: pregnancy, angst (is this warning even necessary at this point?)

A/N: @nedthegay Ily for always being so  kind in helping me. Links are ruining posts, you can find the masterlist link on my description.

 Two lines.

It only takes two little straight red lines to turn your world upside down.

You’re sitting on the side of the bathtub of the bathroom as your surroundings turn into a blurry fog and your attention is completely focused on the little white stick in your hands, the one Natasha stealthily bought for you after you puked your guts out all over the kitchen sink.

Two lines…

“Y/N? Are you ok? Can we come in?”

It takes a few more seconds, but Wanda’s voice behind the closed door shakes you out from your little stupor. You blink a few quick times and take a deep intake of air before you get up and plod towards the door. When you open it, two pairs of expectant green eyes meet yours.

“You guys were right,” you murmur as you show them the two little lines attesting the positive result, “I am… pregnant.” It’s weird when your own words reach your ears. You’re pregnant. Taking a shuddering breath, you walk past them to slump into the armchair by your bed. The stick still firmly secured in your hand.

It’s a split instant before Nat and Wanda follow you. Nat sits at the arm beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder as Wanda kneels in front of you, concern etched on both their faces.

“I can’t believe it,” the voice coming out of your lips is low, as you stare at nothing, shaking your head, “It was only one time…”

“That’s all it takes, honey,” Natasha snorts, but shuts ups after Wanda shoots a glare at her.  

“I wasn’t taking any precautions,” you keep talking as if Nat never said a word, “There hasn’t been anyone since I left and it was the last thing on my mind when I returned and… and then… that night on the roof, I- I didn’t… we didn’t…” you trail off, looking pleadingly at Wanda and then at Nat, desperately begging them for something, anything, even if you have no idea what. As your confidants and best friends, you don’t have to tell them again which night you’re referring to.

“Shhh,” Wanda sooths, taking your empty hand in hers, “It’s ok, honey. Don’t think of that now.”

“Yeah, babe.” Nat squeezes your shoulder, “We’re here for you. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

The three of you stay like that for a while, with no more words spoken. Even so, you feel the warmth of their combined presence, their silent and strong support. You feel grateful for having them, because you know you’ll need them. Being pregnant, having a child… you’ve never really thought about any of that before. Even in your best times with Bucky, all you wanted was to experience what you were feeling for him. The idea of a child never crossed your mind, even less so now, when everything is so messed up and complicated.

However…

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?” Nat breaks the silence in a soft, careful voice, as if she’s read your mind. “It’s still early. You have options and…”

“I know.” You look up at her and nod. “I know you’ll both support me in whatever decision I make…”

“We absolutely will,” Wanda assures you, “Tell us what’s on your mind, dear,” Her thumb draws soft circles on the back of your hand.

“I-I,” You gulp down and lick your lips, “I think I need to be alone right now,” You give them a tight smile, “I need to think about this by myself, just for now.”

“Are you sure?” Wanda asks as a crease appears between her eyebrows, looking up at you.  

“I am.” You bite your lip briefly before continuing, “I’ll sleep on it and I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow. I’ll be ok, I promise. Is that alright?”

“Of course it is, honey.” Nat nods and gets up, being followed by Wanda, “But don’t hesitate on calling us for anything. I mean anything.” She tilts her head, raising a warning brow at you.

“Ok.” You nod, before whispering, “Thank you, guys. I mean it.”

They both give you a bone crushing hug before walking out the door.

As soon as they’re out of your room you let your body fall to the backrest and the tears you’ve been holding back run down your face freely. As a small smile slowly curls up your lips you know you lied to them and even to yourself. You don’t have to think about options. Not at all. Despite the shock, you had your mind made up as soon as you saw those two lines. As much as you’ve never thought about it before, now it’s a reality and all you think about is how you can’t wait to see your baby’s face. Your baby. Your child.

Your smile changes into a blissful, watery laugh and you bring the hand holding the stick to your chest, the other let sprawl over your belly, still seemingly unchanged. The cacophony of sobs and giggles turn into one single sigh of contentment, of cheer and unexpected happiness with a hint of anticipation and even fear, you dare say. A brand new kind of fear, one you’re excited in feeling. A whole new emotion surfaces inside you. The first of many, you’re sure of it.

Bucky.

Your head snaps up at the thought of him. You want to tell him. You need to tell him. He’s the only one you want to talk to right now. You need to call him, tell him to come over, you need to see his face when you tell him.

Leaving the little stick behind, you rush up from your seat to the nightstand where your cellphone is. After you throw yourself on your bed you unlock the screen and search his number on the contacts list. You’re about to press the call button when you freeze.

That little hint of fear morphs into an ice cold dread in your chest. The doubts bubble in your mind as you remember all about your last conversation. He said he needed distance from you. What if he doesn’t get as excited as you about the baby? He’s been away for two months, clearly things are working out between Anna and him, what if he takes the news as bad news? Another thing in the way of his happiness?

The doubts, the uncertainty…they’re terrifying. You definitely don’t want him to think you expect something from him because you’re pregnant. You love him, you desperately do, but you don’t want to get back together because of some sense of obligation or anything like that.

Nevertheless… he has the right to know, doesn’t he? The baby is as much his as it is yours… He is the father after all…

You take your lower lip between your teeth, and nod your decision. He can do  whatever pleases him after he finds out , but you simply can’t not tell him something this life changing and you’re too excited to wait another minute. You gulp down the anxiety creeping up your throat and press the call button.

~~~

“Dinner was absolutely delicious,” Anna exclaims, hanging her coat on the hanger of Bucky’s living room, “Sam and Steve seemed to have liked it, too.”

“Of course they did.” Bucky chuckles, “All-you-can-eat pizza is always a win with them,” he adds, sitting on the sofa.  

“And with you,” Anna mocks, taking a place beside him and holding his hand into hers, “But it’s not just that…” she adds, with a sigh, “They seem to be getting used to, I mean, us. Don’t you think?”

Bucky looks up at her and nods, bringing her hand to his lips, “Of course they are,” he says then resting their joined hands on his lap.

Her smile is soft and hopeful before she lets her head drop to his shoulder. It was the first time they had done something with other people. The news about Anna and him took most of the group by surprise and, since then, it has been… weird, to say the least. They were used to seeing her as a friend, not as Bucky’s girlfriend. But the fact that she was his former therapist is what he suspects that has been the most strange for the team…

Not to mention the fact that Bucky moving out and spending close to no time at the tower or with the whole group have also been an issue. Only Steve and probably also Nat and Wanda know about the latest events concerning you and him, and the rest of them don’t understand why Bucky felt the need to stay away.

But time has been playing its part and, slowly, his closest friends have shown their support. Like Steve and Sam, who had agreed on the dinner. But, in fact, he can’t blame them or the rest of the group for taking the news as odd and needing time to adjust when himself has been having some trouble with it… He thought the affection he felt for Anna would quickly turn into something more and hopefully rip the old feelings out of his heart.

The old feelings…

Anna has been wonderful. A lot more than he deserves. She’s been kind, attentive, patient, never pushing the boundaries not even he knew he had. She’s perfect, absolutely perfect, and he cares for her deeply, but… That’s the thing. He’s not sure what to do to erase the “but” of their relationship.

He has to change it. She deserves all of him. No “buts”. Yes, he’s been honest with her, telling her everything about how he still feels about you, everything that had happened with you before they had that talk after that mission and she accepted him, without question. Even that night at the rooftop didn’t seem to be a problem to her.

She deserves more. He has to let go of the ties that insist to hold him back from giving himself to her fully. He has to.  

“Wanna watch a movie before I go?” Anna lifts her head from his shoulder, looking at him, expectation evident in her eyes.

“Why don’t you stay tonight?” The words slip out of his mouth as he looks down at her. He has to try…

Her eyes widen for a fraction of second, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am.” It feels good when her smile brings one to his lips, too.

“But, I didn’t bring any clothes…”

He quirks a playful brow at her, “And that’s a problem because…” He laughs and grabs her hand when she shoves him on his chest. An adorable blush tinting her cheeks. “Don’t worry, you can borrow a t-shirt from me.” He kisses her on the cheeks.

“Ok, then.” She tilts his head with a hand on his jaw and pecks him on the lips, “I’ll stay.”

He smiles again. That’s it. He has to try harder and everything will be alright.

“What about that movie now?” Bucky asks.

The grin on Anna’s face is unyielding as she swiftly nods.

~ ~ ~

Halfway through the movie Anna has picked, they’re snuggled together on his sofa, sharing a chocolate bar in dim lights. It’s quiet, simple and calm. Everything Bucky wants and knows he can have with Anna. He’s made the right choice.

The light of an incoming call steals his attention from the movie to his cellphone on the center table. His eyes narrow. Considering he’s on a leave from missions, he wonders who it could be at that late hour…Detaching himself from Anna’s hold, he chuckles at her whine and leans over to grab the vibrating phone.

The name on the screen causes him to freeze as he stares at it.

Y/N?

“Who is it?” Anna asks behind him.

He ignores his racing heart to tilt his head back and answer, “It’s Y/N.” His jaw clenches as the phone keeps vibrating in his hand.

“Oh,” Anna breathes, leaving the chocolate bar aside and shifting on the sofa.

“I’m not gonna take it.” Bucky answers simply, resting his back on the backrest again, and leaving the cellphone on the cushion beside him, right when it stops vibrating. He takes in a breath, and put his arm around Anna, pulling her close. He pretends to pay attention to the movie again.

Even if she cuddles back into him, he can feel the tenseness in Anna’s body. That’s exactly what he doesn’t want to happen. At the same time, he can’t help but wonder why you would call him, he told you the two of you needed to stay away. He knew he would need the distance, precisely to avoid situations like this, when his heart is jumping at the sight of your name on his screen, but having Anna in his arms instead.

His head snaps to his phone as a message alert comes in. It’s almost unconscious when his hand flies to grab the device and unlocks the screen to read your text.

“Hi, I need to talk to you. Could you come over?”

Another comes in almost at the same time.

“Alone?”  

Bucky swallows back as an attempt to ease down the lump in his throat. Looking to the other side, Anna’s seems focused on the movie, but the twitch on her throat and her tight lips are evidences that the movie is the last thing on her mind.

He has to try. This is what he wants. This is what’s right for him. He puts the cellphone back on the cushion.

10 minutes pass that contain only the sounds coming from the TV. The tension makes the air hard to breathe. Ten minutes and his phone starts buzzing again.

“You should answer it, Bucky,” Anna says in a controlled voice, turning to look at him.

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’ve told her we needed space… We haven’t talked to each other in two months, I have no idea why she would call me now.”

He reaches for the buzzing phone and is about to turn down the call when Anna grabs his wrist, stopping him from doing so, prompting him to briskly turn his bewildered expression towards her.

“Just answer it and find out what she wants. It doesn’t seem like she’ll give up,” She forces a tight smile, but her tone reveals on her distress, “It’s ok, go ahead, I’ll grab some water in the kitchen.”

Bucky watches as Anna gets up and rushes to the kitchen, hating the sadness and insecurity gracing her features. Damn it, this is not how he wanted this night to be. Taking in a deep breath, he does what she told him to and swipes his finger to the right.

“Hello,” the growing frustration inside him seeps into his tone.

“Oh, ahm, Hi…Hi, Bucky-”

“Why are you calling, Y/N?” His tone remains harsh after your stammering greeting reaches his ears. The fact that the mere sound of your voice could cause his heart to skip a beat adds to his frustration.

He can hear your short gasp through the phone before you stay silent for a moment, “Ahm, is this a bad time?” you ask with a small voice.

“Yes, yes it is.” He runs his hand over his face, “I’m with my girlfriend right now. I told you we needed to stay away from each other, Y/n. I don’t understand why you’re calling.” The words blurt out of his lips as his chest grows tight and his jaw tenses.

“I-I know, but I need to talk to you. It’s really important.”

“What could you possibly wanna talk about?” Bucky barely holds back the volume of his voice. He knows he’s being a little too aggressive, a little too unfair, but he just can’t help it. He just loses control when it comes to you. Plus, his girlfriend is right there in the kitchen, probably feeling dejected and disappointed on a night when he tried to take the next step on their relationship, but now he’s there talking to you. The woman he still loves like crazy. The one he’s being trying so damn hard to forget. All of that is enough to do a number on his nerves.

He has to be firm. He has to stick to his resolve.  

“Like I said it’s really important,” There’s a renewed and defensive steady tone in your voice, “I’d rather not talk about it on the phone. I thought maybe you could stop by the tower tomorrow. Or we could meet somewhere else…”

“I won’t do any of that.”

“What?” You scoff. Your heavy breathing is loud and clear through the phone,  “Bucky, I know you don’t wanna see me or talk to me. I get it, but-”

“This important thing you wanna talk about, is it about one of our friends? Work? Or does it have anything to do with us?”

“Yes, in a way it’s about us.” Your voice threatens to falter.

“Then I have no interest in it whatsoever and I won’t meet you. Please, don’t push it, Y/N.”

An endless moment of silence goes by before you ask, firmly, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He forces himself to say.

“Is this your final word? There’s nothing I could say to change your mind?” You insist.

“Not a thing in the world.” Bucky gulps down after stating his resolution.

“So be it.” Unlike your first lines through the call, your voice is now hard and tied up in determination, “Don’t worry, I won’t ever bother you again.”

He doesn’t have time to say anything else before you hung up.

[vcg73]

Witch!Kurt #42: The Calm Before the Storm

As promised, I got back to work on this.  :)

~*~*~*~*~*~

Adam hummed as he moved through the kitchen, fetching plates, cups, and cutlery from their cabinets and drawers before dishing up the two servings of eggs and sausage links he’d just finished cooking.

He pulled a large orange from the refrigerator and cut it into halves, placing one on each plate. He really preferred grapefruit, but Kurt hated even the scent of them, so he compromised by purchasing a large bag of Mandarins on his last shopping trip. It made him feel better, since Kurt had ceased purchasing his own former staple of strawberries once he had discovered that Adam was allergic. Adam had insisted that there was no need for Kurt to give up a favorite food, and Kurt had made a noise of agreement but Adam had noticed soon afterward that their grocery list never had that particular fruit on it anymore. The bottle of strawberry pancake syrup that had formerly graced their little condiment shelf had also mysteriously vanished. It was the sort of sweet gesture that his husband tended to make without thought, and Adam was determined to show that he appreciated it in just as subtle a fashion. He refused to be another one of those people in Kurt’s life who took his generous nature for granted.

Pouring a steaming cup of tea for himself and coffee for Kurt, he smiled at how delightfully domestic this was. Other than company, the thing he had missed most during his seemingly endless span in the emptiness of the Void was simply having something to do. Getting his hands on some small chore and keeping busy with it. Adam had never been an idler, never one to just sit quietly with his hands folded and wait for something to come along. From earliest childhood, he had been a doer, taking satisfaction from playing games, cooking meals, scribbling notes, inventing choreography, learning some new skill, or sorting out an activity for others. He and Kurt had that in common, along with having work and living spaces that tended to stay tidy and well organized, though neither took it to neat-freak levels. Adam had missed being able to set his hand to a thing and see it completed, and a small part of him thrilled at the mundane little task.

It bothered him more than he liked to admit that he was still slightly off his game when it came to getting his nerve up for comings and goings beyond the loft, even after six months back in the real world, but having a full time stay-at-home job now helped immensely. Most of his daylight hours were kept busy making calls, booking online appointments, and sorting out talent for various casting calls about town. It made him feel useful again, and after only two months on the job, he was already earning praise from his employers and glowing reviews from their clients. That little boost to his self-esteem was making him bolder about going outdoors and meeting people again. Now that winter was over, greenery was beginning to pop up everywhere and the days were becoming mild and pleasant, beckoning him to take a nice walk through the park, or down to Bui’s for a spot of tea on his lunch hour. He no longer worked for Mrs. Bui, having given up his position as stock-boy to an eager young high schooler once his schedule with H&B had been set, but he still liked to pop round for a hot cup, two or three delicious chocolate biccies, and a nice gossip.

And then there was Kurt. How lucky he felt each day to wake up to the sight of that beautiful face on the pillow next to his, to phone him at lunchtime to say ‘how are you’, ‘what would you like for dinner’, and ‘I love you’. Such simple words, but so full of delight to them both. And he liked to be here, finishing up his work for the day, or bustling about getting the evening meal when it was his turn to cook, having it ready when Kurt came home from work or school, and seeing his face light up with joy at the sight of him.

“Hello, husband,” Kurt would say, with that loving look in his beautiful eyes as he came forward for a kiss and a fond embrace. “How was your day?”  

Kurt took positive delight in that greeting, and Adam enjoyed hearing it just as much. He supposed over time the shiny newness of being married would wear off, but for now it was still great fun.

Adam buttered four newly popped slices of toast and once again divided them between the waiting plates, adding a quick smear of marmalade to his own half and a dribble of honey to Kurt’s. He added a bit of honey to his tea as well, then used the spoon he’d stirred it with to mix a helping of nonfat creamer and a packet of sweetener into the coffee. He took a small sip of the latter to test the level of sweetness, and then grimaced, wondering what he’d been thinking as he took a quick swig of tea to banish the taste. Kurt had grown up drinking Burt Hummel’s noxious brew, and he still preferred his coffee strong enough to degrease an engine or melt the spines off a cactus.

“Breakfast is ready, husband of mine,” he said, setting a plate and the coffee on Kurt’s side of the breakfast table just in time to greet him with a kiss as he wandered out from the bathroom, wearing a towel about his waist, skin fresh and still ever so slightly damp after showering.

Kurt kissed him back with a smile and immediately went for the cup, taking an experimental sip followed by a large happy slurp. “Mmm, this is great!” he said. “You used hazelnut creamer, didn’t you?”

Vaguely amused at his enthusiasm, Adam said, “I did. I used that cocoa infused espresso you bought last trip, and I thought hazelnut would be a nice complement to it.”

“Nutella in a cup,” he sighed blissfully, belting back another swallow. He kissed Adam again, on the cheek this time and said, “Be right back.”

Kurt disappeared into the bedroom, and Adam had just enough time to top up his cup and add another good dollop of creamer before Kurt emerged again wearing a smart new outfit of gray checked trousers, black shoes and belt, and a shimmery green, patterned button down. Now that he had truly got the hang of using his assorted magics, Kurt could get himself dressed for the day in the literal blink of an eye. The only delay would be in choosing which outfit to wear. It was the one power that Adam envied him, though he doubted that even being able to instantly don and discard clothing would give him the impeccably chic and polished look that Kurt always had.

After all, even his own power to whisk his hair into order with a thought did not give him the ability to look sexily tumbled when rising from his pillow of a morning the way Kurt typically did. Adam usually looked as though he’d received electric shock until he got himself under a hot shower, and he knew he could potter around in his closet for a good half hour trying on assorted items and still look like he’d just escaped from a harrowing ride through a clothes dryer. Lucky for him that Kurt found the rumpled look attractive.

“What’s funny?” Kurt asked, sitting down to breakfast. He hadn’t been gone long enough for the food to grow cold and he tucked in with an appreciative appetite.

Adam just waved a hand. “Oh nothing. Just musing about how unfairly gorgeous you are for first thing in the morning.”

Flattered, he blushed a bit, his eyes sparkling at the compliment. “You look nice too.”  

And he did. Adam had a video call with a producer this morning, someone his agency had landed for casting of a big-budget film. Adam’s job was simply to take down the particulars of cast size, shooting schedule, and what sort of roles they were looking to fill, and then he would take down their availability and set up a second meeting with one of H&B’s more senior casting agents. But even that required a bit more spit and polish than usual.

He told Kurt as much. “I must let them see that Hanover & Bradley is a posh firm, even down to the lowliest of booking clerks.” He straightened his black and gold striped tie before lifting his nose in the air and sticking his pinky out with extreme dignity as he took a sip from his teacup.

As he had expected, Kurt laughed. “Well, I’m sure they’ll appreciate it. I wish it wasn’t considered unprofessional to suggest casting yourself. I glanced at the script spec you were reading last night and that movie sounds right up your alley.”

Adam smiled. “Appreciated, but I don’t think I’m quite ready for the chaos of a film set yet. Though I must admit that I have been growing bolder of late. I’ve been considering scraping the rust off of my acting skills and joining the Lightning Circle for one or two evenings a week.”

For a moment Kurt looked blank, but then he brightened as the name clicked. “That’s the Improv group that your friend Joey runs, isn’t it?” At Adam’s nod, he clasped his hands. “Adam, that would be amazing! It’s a perfect way to stick a toe in the water and find out whether or not you’d be comfortable on stage again. Joey was an Apple, so he’ll totally get it if you’re not quite ready to get out in public yet. You two were really close during my freshman year, so I imagine it would be like slipping into a favorite pair of shoes to work with him again. It won’t even matter if you’re rusty, because figuring your way around an awkward moment is the whole idea of Improv.”  

Adam beamed at his support. “Exactly right. I had a talk with Janice during my last session about wanting to take baby steps back toward my aborted career. She suggested testing the waters in some small way, then reporting back on how it went. I was thinking Community Theater, or joining the Lexington retirees for one of their in-house productions, or a sketch comedy night somewhere. Then I recalled Joe telling us at the last Apples get-together that he’s renting a space in the Village. His troupe rehearses a few nights a week and performs on Sunday evenings. They write sketches, work out the framing, and then sort of fill in the blanks before an audience. I know for certain that I’m welcome to join.”

Kurt was grinning. “Then you should totally do it. Maybe we could start by attending a performance on the weekend, just to see what it’s like. That way you can make an informed decision about whether or not it’s something you want to do. I think it would be so good for you, honey. I know how refreshing it can be to put your problems aside and just be someone else for a little while. Plus it sounds like a lot of fun!”

Pleased at how easily Kurt had not only accepted the plan but dove straight in with his support, Adam said, “So, it’s a date then?” 

Privately he was thinking that if this worked out, it might be a bit of fun they could do together. The others always asked after Kurt, and seemed quite interested in his progress at NYADA, so they would be glad to have him.

“It’s a date,” Kurt confirmed. Munching the last bite of his breakfast, he glanced at his phone on the table beside him and made a startled sound. “Oh, gosh! Is that the time already? Isabelle asked me to help choose the summer dress selections for the website today and I don’t want to be late.”

Adam nodded. He needed to get himself ready for the meeting soon as well. “Have fun and I’ll see you this afternoon. Is it your turn for dinner tonight?”

“It was, but I’ll do it tomorrow. Brittany called earlier and asked if she, Santana, and Tubbington could join us. They’ll pick up something from the Golden Lotus on the way here.”

He was used to this. Members of their witch family dropped by at odd hours all the time and usually brought food with them, so Adam nodded. “I’ll text and ask them for an order of sweet and sour, or maybe some General Tso. That pineapple and green pepper concoction they picked out the last time was revolting. I was belching peppers for two days straight.”

Kurt laughed. “I already asked. Santana likes that stuff, but Brittany agrees with you, and of course Tubbington would probably stage a revolt if they didn’t get his beloved Kung Pao Chicken, so nobody balked at my request to add Pork Fried Rice and General Tsao.”

Taking one last swig of coffee, Kurt took his dishes to the kitchen, then hurried to the bathroom to quickly brush his teeth. Giving his husband a minty kiss goodbye, Kurt grabbed his bag and a light jacket and was out the door.

Adam stared fondly after him for a moment, then willed the magical ward back into place and went to his own work.

~*~*~*~*~

“What’s happened?” Adam asked when Kurt came through the door without his usual cheerful greeting. 

The buoyant mood Kurt had left home with this morning had transformed throughout the day into a feeling of tense foreboding that had been palpable the moment he walked in the door. Before that, actually. A more tamped-down version had been singing along their emotional bond for the past couple of hours. 

Adam found himself wondering if their idyllic breakfast this morning had just been the calm before some great storm. Whatever it was, he suspected that their Sunday theater plans had just been cancelled. “Is something wrong in Ohio?”

“No,” Kurt said, speaking the word with a hint of hesitation. He made an impatient gesture with his hands as he amended it to, “Not exactly. Nothing’s really wrong, but I had a text from Sue Sylvester today and I suspect it’s no coincidence that she sent it to me on the same day Brittany and Santana suddenly decided to drop by for dinner.”

Adam agreed that this was unlikely. Sue had kept her promise to keep tabs on the Blaine situation for them, but she wasn’t the ‘just dropping a friendly line’ sort of person. “What did it say?”

Pulling out his phone, Kurt showed him the message. ‘Red Alert. Paddington has taken a flea dip.’ “What on earth?”

“Sue always codes her messages,” Kurt explained. “She thinks satellites are sharing them with the C.I.A. or something. Paddington is the nickname she gave to Dave Karofsky after he came out as gay. Y’know, as in a baby bear.”

Adam snorted, picturing the hulking young man he had briefly glimpsed on his aborted surveillance trip to Lima dressed in a duffel coat, red hat and wellies. “So in her own peculiar way, she’s telling you that Dave has rid himself of a certain pest?”

“That’s how I read it,” Kurt agreed. “He must have broken up with Blaine. Either he shook off Blaine’s persuasive influence somehow, or he just wasn’t as taken in by it as we assumed. I’d be interested to find out what happened. The important thing for now is that if Dave is gone, then Blaine doesn’t have anyone handy to power-dump his stolen magic into. That might make Blaine vulnerable.”

“Or it might make him more of a problem,” Adam reminded him, willing away the shiver of apprehension that skittered down his spine at Kurt’s words. “If Blaine has suddenly found himself alone and forced to return to what Santana colorfully calls the ‘snatch and splooge’ technique of transferring power, he could be extremely dangerous.”

Kurt shook his head. “That’s assuming he hasn’t stored power in half the innocent Standards in Lima. He was always unnaturally good at swaying a crowd to his side, long before the soul-polluting began. He’s a lot easier to deal with one on one than with a pack of supporters behind him. Especially ones who are convinced against all logic and evidence that he can do no wrong.”

Reading his meaning in that, Adam said flatly, “You are not going to face him alone, Kurt.”

“Well, I’m not sending you to spy on him again,” Kurt countered with a trace of heat. “I don’t want you going anywhere near him.”

“Nor I you, so if you think I’m going to just sit here safely on the sidelines while that nasty blighter attacks you, then …”

“Adam, I’ll be at twice as much risk if I’m worrying about what might happen to you,” Kurt interrupted. “I’m not an idiot. I know how dangerous he can be, and that you both want and deserve to be with me when I face him, but he nearly killed you once, and then just seeing him for an instant all but paralyzed you! The last time you two were face to face, you were at full strength and he still nearly destroyed you. What if he finds out that you’re not only still alive, but that I’ve married you, and once and for all torpedoed his plans for me? He’ll go berserk and I don’t want to risk him taking that out on you. If I put you in his line of sight, I might as well be pulling the trigger on you myself.”

Adam wanted to argue back that he would be equally devastated if Kurt were to face their enemy alone and be killed or sent to the Void. Which might well be the same thing, since none of their group might be able to find and rescue him if he were to be banished to that place without an anchor. But Kurt would resist such reasoning. For all his instinctive mother-henning of loved ones, he could be remarkably blind when it came to his own well-being.

“Darling, what with all the Lima people who came to our reception, I highly doubt that Blaine has remained oblivious to my miraculous return from the great beyond. I’m safer with you, and the members of our coven, than I ever would be alone.” He struggled to keep his voice calm, even though he suspected that his emotions were broadcasting loud and clear anyway. “I may not be as physically strong as I was the first time I encountered him, but magically I’ve grown stronger. One of the upsides to being part of a good coven. Since Joining with you, I’ve gained new levels of control. But what you’re forgetting is that neither one of us is in this alone. We have a group of excellent witches and Familiars at our back, as well as friends and family. It may turn out that Blaine has put together an army of brain-washed sycophants, but if the Intelligence we’ve received thus far is true, then we also have Coach Sylvester’s magically-inclined Cheerio squad to counter them.”

As he had hoped, Kurt responded to the logic of this statement. “That’s true,” he said slowly. “I hate the idea of putting kids at risk, but I’d put my money on the Cheerios over Blaine’s personal Fight Club any day of the week.”

“I wouldn’t discount Sebastian’s influence over his former prep-school peers either,” Adam pressed. “Or for that matter Finn and Sam’s influence over your old Glee Club, which might even have countered Blaine’s a bit. Just because you’ve been left with that self-enamored tosser as your sole responsibility in the past, doesn’t mean you still are. You were a lone ship on a stormy ocean once upon a time, Kurt, but now you’re the captain of a veritable armada, and the rest of us are just waiting for an order to fire a shot across Blaine’s bow.”

Kurt’s mouth, which had fallen open during Adam’s impassioned speech, clicked shut and he gave him a wan smile. “I’m not sure you aren’t being just a little too optimistic here, but you have a good point.” The smile widened. “You like to claim that you’re not much of an orator, but you give a darned good rallying speech.”

“I think so too,” Santana said by way of greeting, making the two of them jump in surprise as she opened the door and walked casually into their discussion. Kurt had dropped the ward as he came inside, and left it down knowing his friends would be arriving right on his heels. “And he’s right, oh Captain my Captain. If you go back to Lima and cut us out of all the fun after keeping us waiting for months to kick Anderson’s bubble butt, we’ll disown you and elect a new coven leader. I hear Drumsticks has his eye on the spot.”

“Johnny? But he never…oh,” Kurt said in chagrin, laughing a little when he realized she was teasing. “I guess I’m being kind of stupid.”

“Never bothered us before,” she replied, a wicked twinkle in her eye. “I take it you heard from Sue?”

Brittany and Tubbington, who had come in behind her, put their sacks of food down on the kitchen island and Brittany said, “She sent us a message this morning before I called. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything then.”

“Paddington?” Adam queried, wondering if they’d got the same text Kurt had.

Tubbington gave him a frown and said, “Dawn Patrol”.

Not as familiar with Coach Sylvester’s unique personal code as the rest of them, Adam said, “What does that mean?”

“Be on alert because it might be time to come to Lima and get Blaine out of everybody’s way,” Santana translated casually.

Seeing his confusion, Kurt said, “Dawn. You know, as in the dish-washing soap that’s supposed to be extra good at clearing away greasy messes? It … never mind. The point is that Blaine has been dumped, and Coach thinks it might have him off balance enough for us to make our move.” He looked at their guests and said, “Adam was reminding me that we’re a team and that Blaine is no longer just my problem.”

“He’s right, Junior,” Tubbington garbled as he pulled a steaming box and a pair of chopsticks out of the nearest bag and stuffed a large bite of food into his mouth while he spoke. “I been keeping tabs on your family through Sebastian and he tells me that Blaine has already started sniffing around your house now that Sam is living there again.”

“What?” Kurt said in alarm, jumping up from the chair he had just taken.

Brittany patted his arm. “Don’t worry, nobody is in danger. That’s part of what we wanted to tell you tonight. Your dad has Fam, that’s what Sam and Finn call themselves when they’re not being individuals, did you know that? Anyway, Burt has made them wear that cologne Adam made for him at Christmas, just to be safe. He offered some to Sebastian too, but a Familiar can’t be influenced by Wild Magics so he didn’t need it.”

“I should mix them up a fresh batch if Burt is sharing,” Adam mused, already considering ways he might beef up the recipe while still keeping the cologne smelling pleasant. Having been victim to Blaine’s venomous influence once, Sam and Finn might be more than usually vulnerable, and that wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. “Perhaps I could mix it into a deodorant, so there would be no danger of anyone forgetting to wear the potion. ‘Magical Musk for Men’, or some such.”

“You should do it,” Santana agreed, shrugging when she saw that nobody was bothering with food except for the always voracious Lord Tubbington, and going for plates and forks, which she spread around the table before helping herself to a serving of fried rice. “The old stuff does its job, though. Sebastian reported to L.T. that Blaine showed up at the house last night, God only knows why, and Burt met him at the door with a wicked set of hedge-clippers in hand.”

She cackled at the thought and everyone else had to grin at the picture it painted when Brittany added, “Your dad told him he’d had a feeling that it was time to prune away the obnoxious weeds that were in his yard. Then he clacked the blades just a couple of inches from Blaine’s crotch and stared him down until he ran off.”

“Didn’t stop moving until he hit the Lima Bean, from what I hear,” L.T. said with satisfaction, treating them all to a window-shaking belch as he picked a stray vegetable from his beard and popped it into his mouth. “Damn, that’s great. The Lotus must have a new chef.”

Kurt, no longer surprised that his father hadn’t reported the visit, sighed and sad down, taking a spoonful of rice and another of steaming beef & broccoli. Adam and Brittany likewise sat down and helped themselves to a serving of mouthwatering entrees. Adam happily sailed into the box of spicy chicken, also accepting a spoonful of beef & broccoli when Kurt shook the box with an inquiring look. Santana pulled out a second container of Kung Pao, having known from experience that nobody else would have a chance at the initial serving of Tubbington’s favorite, and passed it around.

“If Blaine is already trying to get in good with Sam again,” Kurt mused after a moment, “then it really does support the idea that losing Dave must have come as an unpleasant shock. To his ego if not his magic-stealing. There’s no way he could know that Sam isn’t alone anymore, right?”

“No,” Adam said, “I’m sure he doesn’t know. After all, he believes that he murdered Finn, just as he thinks he did to me. But if he’s seen him around Lima, then even without Sight he must realize that Sam is suddenly a good bit healthier than he was when their friendship was broken off. I could see so clearly, and I don’t even know the poor fellow well.”

Brittany nodded. “We went to visit my folks a couple of weeks ago and I looked in on Fam. Sam’s almost back to his old self again. You did a really good thing for him when you joined him with Finn.”

“Technically that was Sebastian’s idea,” Kurt said, giving credit where it was due. “And all of you helped.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who actually did the heavy lifting,” Santana countered, having no patience for self-effacement. Not when it came to an act of combined delicacy and power, not to mention personal risk, that had left even her cynical self in awe. Sounding baffled by her next words, she added, “And Finn is happy riding around in the back of Sam’s brain. I thought sure he’d be going crazy by now, given how much he liked being the center of attention back in high school. Instead he seems to think he’s some kind of secret agent. As long as Sam lets him take the wheel and do what he wants a couple of times a day, he doesn’t seem to give a flying fuck that nobody else knows they’re taking to Finn Hudson, ex Lima superstar.”

“I suspect without the influence of power-hungry girlfriends, he’s actually happier out of the spotlight,” Kurt said dryly. “He liked being part of the Quarterback-Head Cheerleader power couple, until it became more pressure than fun. Then he hooked up with Rachel and she was a cattle prod in the backside as far as the craving for fame and popularity went. It wasn’t until they went long-distance and Finn didn’t have anyone to give him orders, or any independent direction of his own, that he kind of crashed.”

Brittany nodded. “And Sam always felt more comfortable having an image to hide behind, so he probably likes being able to sit back and let Finn take over some of the time.” She smiled gently. “I think the people who used to know them both are a little confused, though. People never seem to see things clearly without a map.”

Remembering some of the mind-bending leaps of logic this woman had taken in the years he had known her, Kurt had to agree. Brittany always saw things clearly, it was one reason she had the most powerful gifts of Sight and magical intuition he had yet encountered, but unfortunately her idea of clarity rarely matched up with anyone else’s. At least not without a lot of practice in translating her thoughts. He had become far better at ‘speaking Brit’ over this past year than he had ever done when they were schoolmates.

“Makes sense,” he said. “Okay, so assuming my family is safe, Fam’s secret is still intact, and Blaine is beginning to lose control, how much time do you think we have to deal with this?”

“Not long, I would say,” Adam said, brow furrowing in thought. “When I confronted him two years ago, he panicked and went into immediate attack mode. Same with your brother. If he’s reeling from the insult of being dumped, and possibly from the withdrawal of whatever power he’d stored up in your friend Dave … well, I fear we’ve left this kettle boiling too long as it is.”

Tubbington cut in, “Oh, he’ll be feeling it, I’m sure of that. I don’t know if that other kid is still in town or not, but if he broke off their relationship it’s a cinch Dave’s not willing to let Blaine cozy up for a nice easy power withdrawal. Whatever magic had been stored in him would have started draining away almost immediately once he was at a safe distance.” 

At Kurt’s querying noise, Adam said, “As you know, magic has a shelf-life. We can only do so much before we’re either starving or exhausted from having used up our reserves. Storing magic in a prepared object allows it to stay viable for a while, like storing perishables in the freezer. But storing it in a person would mean using their physical reserves. Like storing those perishables in a hot garage. The power would begin to ‘go bad’ in a very short amount of time, and while the vessel could be damaged in the long term, they could also be helped by it in the short.”

“In what way?” Kurt asked, resting his elbows on the table and pressing his lips to steepled fingers as he unconsciously adopted a studying pose.

Santana answered, “Like, if Sam had been critically injured and Blaine had siphoned a portion of his own power, his own life-force, into him to keep him alive until they could get medical help, that would be okay. Noble, even. Not that something that selfless would ever occur to him.”

Tubbington agreed, “I’ve been around long enough to see that happen a couple of times, but before the human litter-box came along, I’d never even heard of a witch, regular or Wild, stealing magic from other witches without their knowledge and power-dumping it into some poor unwitting Standard. Only to steal that power back for their own personal use with no thought as to how much damage they were causing. That he did it to supposed loved ones?” He made a sound that suggested he was about to reject the box of Chinese food he had just inhaled.

“The sorts of things we can do as witches gives us an advantage over the majority of society,” Adam resumed. “And it is widely accepted throughout the community that that sort of privilege gives us a firm ethical responsibility to not misuse our power, nor go mucking about in the lives of Standards. I have wondered from time to time if the general bias against the weak, uncontrolled power of most Wild witches hasn’t led to the rest of us dropping the ball there. After all, if one never knows they’re a witch, how is one to develop the ethical foundation that is, quite frankly, expected of us? Blaine Anderson is an extreme case of self-aggrandizing moral decay, but I doubt he’s alone in it.”

“Well, there’s a cheerful thought,” Santana said sourly. “You’re saying all this is somehow our fault?”

Surprising them all, Kurt who said, “No. I spent months, years even, blaming myself for all the crap Blaine pulled when we were together. I’ve finally accepted that I wasn’t responsible for his actions or responses, only for my own. I’m not going back to thinking otherwise. Blaine was hypocritical, oblivious to other people’s feelings, and painfully self-absorbed long before he and I first started having problems. I was just too infatuated at first, and too emotionally beaten down later, to actually see it. I suspect from certain things he’s told me about his childhood that he always has been that way.”

Adam nodded. “True, and we’re speaking of Blaine as though he were a child, with no ability to recognize how destructive his behavior has been. He’s not.”

Brittany nodded. “There are a lot of bad people out in the world who got there without any help from magic. People who commit terrible crimes every day. Blaine is just doing his the easy way.”

Making a frustrated motion with his hands, Kurt said, “If the magical community is at fault in any way, it’s in not actually behaving as a community. NYADA is as much a school for witches as a school for performing artists, but you’d never know it until something goes wrong.”

“Do you know they actually had the nerve to send us a sternly worded letter after our wedding, admonishing us for performing a Major Working without a senior coven official present?” Adam said to Santana, Brittany, and Tubbington in response to his husband’s disgusted tone. “Basically they scolded us for not asking permission. Kurt was ready to go down to NYADA on the spot, likely leaving a few scorch marks in his wake, but I convinced him to not ruin a promising academic career, and to take a different approach.”

Smiling slightly, having come to appreciate Adam’s occasionally twisted sense of humor, Santana said, “What did you do to them?”

He blinked at her with calculated innocence in his too-wide blue eyes. “I merely passed the letter over to Gran, with a gentle hint that she wasn’t being properly respected for her status as a Senior level witch, and reminding her that Carmen and her crew never did apologize for their laxity in my own rescue.”

She laughed, “Oh, you are evil!”

Kurt laughed as well. “We got another letter that same week advising us to ‘please disregard the former missive’ and congratulating us on our wedding and a ‘difficult job well done’.”

“Honestly it was as close to groveling as I ever expect to see from the Almighty Carmen,” Adam chuckled. “Gran must have given them a tongue-lashing they’ll never forget.”

A sigh came from Kurt. “That’s what’s so frustrating, though! If powerful coven leaders like Madame Tibideaux, whose business is supposed to be education, would only make it their mission to trade information, help those who need it and make sure nobody falls through the cracks the way Finn and I almost did, and assessing and training those with power without treating those with unusual types of magic as second-class or unimportant, the world would be a much better place. They have the power, and they could make sure that cases like Blaine’s wouldn’t happen, because someone would always have their eyes open to step in and redirect someone who’s going the wrong way before they turn into a complete disaster.”

A swift interested chain reaction of glances and nods passed between his companions. Every good coven eventually developed a higher purpose, something beyond mere friendship and the occasional Major Working. Kurt had, without quite realizing it, just hit upon theirs. Their peculiar mixture of powers and creative problem-solving, Adam’s interest in the history of witchcraft, Johnny’s fascination with the mechanics of spell crafting, the unexpected co-mingling of Animagus and Purebred Familiars, Kurt’s own seeming magnetism toward all manner of people, both magical and Standard, drawing even Wild witches and the extremely rare Magic Dampers into his sphere; all spoke to the blending of a wider, more open overall community.

Oblivious to their silent communication, Kurt went on, “I guess that’s why I still feel like confronting Blaine is up to me. Or rather, to us.”

“Well, you know you can count me in,” Lord Tubbington said. “I’ve wanted to flex my claws on that ugly little scratching post since the first time I saw him.”

“Mine too,” Brittany said with no trace of irony. “I knew he was up to something bad the first time he came to Glee Club dressed like male Rachel.”

Still smirking a bit, Santana said, “I’ve been waiting to kick his ass since last Thanksgiving. What do you say, Kurt?”

He nodded. "Let’s get Dani, Johnny, Monica, and Elliott over here. I think it’s time we put together a plan.”

THE END

[wecarebest-blog]

Why WECAREBEST  Organic Series?

Why WECAREBEST  Organic Series?Benefits of WECAREBEST Organic Soap

What is the number one benefit of Organic soap? Organic soap is simply better for your skin. It contains natural ingredients such as plant-derived base oils, glycerin, and essential oils. By contrast, synthetic, mass-market soap is made of petroleum-based lathering agents, synthetic fragrances, harsh dyes, and dangerous preservatives. It’s not surprising, then, that a lot of our customers say that their skin feels better after using organic soap, and that it sometimes helps to improve skin conditions such as eczema and acne, rather than producing further irritation.

But not only is WECAREBEST organic soap better for you, it’s also better for others. It’s better for the environment because producing its ingredients has less of an environmental impact, and because those ingredients break down easily and cause fewer problems after they go down the drain. It’s better for animals because its ingredients are already recognized as safe, so no animal testing is necessary. And finally, organic soap is better for the economy, because it is often made by small, local producers, so the dollars you spend on it stay in the community.

What do I mean by organic soap?

When I talk about organic soap, most of the time I’m talking about natural and organic soap. Natural soap is made out of fats or oils, water, lye, and often essential oils and natural dyes. Organic soap also has the added benefit of being made of ingredients that are produced with organic farming practices, that is, farming practices that don’t use pesticides or synthetic fertilizers. So organic soap is natural soap, but it is also one step better.

WECAREBEST Organic soap is made from Organic eatable ingredientsthat are better for your skin!

Organic Base Oils

WECAREBEST Organic soap is made from natural ingredients, and in most cases, those ingredients are also organically farmed.Such as organic olivia oil, organic coconut oil, organic grapeseed oil... The majority of the soap bar is made of what are called base oils. We use some of the same base oils for soapmaking that you can use for cooking. So if it’s safe to eat, it’s probably also safe to put on your skin. In the case of our latest recipe, those oils are coconut, olive, and castor bean oil. (We used to use palm oil but are phasing it out because of the massive amount of environmental destruction that it takes to produce.)

Premium Essential Oil

Another ingredient in our soap is essential oil. Essential oils are the volatile or fragrant compounds in certain plants. Most essential oils are distilled from things you would eat such as citrus fruit or herbs. Two examples of essential oils we use are lemon essential oil and rosemary essential oil. Experts say you shouldn’t put pure essential oil on your skin because it is very concentrated and can cause irritation. However, essential oil diluted with another oil is just fine.

Planted Based Glycerin

WECAREBST organic soap also contains glycerin. Glycerin is a natural product of the soapmaking reaction. A lot of mass-market soapmakers and some small-batch soapmakers take out the glycerin because it makes the soap bar last longer or because they can sell the glycerin to use in other cosmetic products. However, when glycerin is left in the soap bar, it acts as a humectant, or a substance that attracts moisture from the air into the skin. Two other natural humectants are aloe and honey.

What about lye?

Lye is a purified natural substance that does not meet the definition of “organic.” Lye does have it’s origins in wood ashes, so it is plant-based. But it doesn’t seem like something you’d want to put on your skin. So what gives? Well, one soapmaker explained there is a difference between “contains lye” and “made with lye.” Soap is made in a chemical reaction between lye and oil. So, if done properly, there is no lye left in the soap once the soapmaking reaction is complete. There are only sodium ions, fatty acids, glycerin, and a bit of water. (And essential oils and whatever else you put in the bar.) If you have any more questions about how this works, google knows the answer, or you can send and email to wecarellc@bestcare.us, and we can grab a beer and chat about chemistry.

Soapmaking and cooking

A few years ago a friend bought a house, and her father came to visit to help her with a couple of carpentry projects before she moved in. We were all having dinner one night, and he said something that stuck with me. If you start with the best ingredients, and manage to combine them with a little bit of skill, you’ll probably end up with a pretty good dish. If you think about it, this makes a lot of sense. Imagine buying a salmon right off the boat, which you could when I was growing up on the Oregon Coast. Imagine taking the salmon home and cooking it over an open fire in the back yard. Pristine ingredients. And sure, it takes a little bit of skill to cook fish over a fire. Now imagine fish sticks that you buy in the freezer section of the grocery store. Imagine all the technical steps and machinery it takes to make fish sticks. Now which tastes better? In my experience, soapmaking works the same way.

A few of the bad things found in mass-market commercial soap. Three ingredients I’m going to examine are surfactants, parabens, and artificial frangrances.

Surfactants

Surfactants are the chemicals responsible for the cleansing properties of a particular product. Surfactants are made of long molecules with two different ends. One end of the molecule sticks to water, while the other sticks to dirt and oil. Surfactants, as a category aren’t automatically bad for you. Soap is technically a surfactant. But you have to be careful about which surfactants you put on your body. One of the most common surfactants in personal cleansers and shampoos is sodium lauryl sulfate. Sodium lauryl sulfate, or SLS, is made from coconuts, but it is contaminated with toxic byproducts when it is manufactured. SLS has been linked to skin irritation, toxicity, endocrine disruption, and cancer. Another unsettling fact about SLS and many other synthetic substances is that your body doesn’t have the enzymes to break them down, so they may accumulate in your tissues over time.

Parabens

Parabens are a specific type of preservative used in a wide range of cosmetics and pharmaceutical products. More specifically they prevent growth of mold and bacteria. Paraben is actually short for “parahydroxybenzoate.” The reason we should avoid parabens is because they act like estrogen in the body. Too much estrogen can lead to breast cancer and reproductive issues. One piece of good news is that there are a lot of newer safer preservatives available, so a company that is still using parabens is really just being lazy. When inspecting labels on cosmetic products you should look out for the three most common parabens: butylparaben, methylparaben and propylparaben. Or you can just opt for a simple, natural product such as  WECAREBEST organic soap!

Artificial fragrances

Let me tell you a story about artificial fragrances. Back in the early days of Metaphor Organic, we used some of them. (Hangs head in shame.) We bought all our essential oils down the street at a little bulk herb shop, and the artificial fragrance oil was right next to the essential oils. We didn’t know any better! But the more research we did, the more we realized we should phase them out. For example, there was an artificial vanilla that we used in some of our scent blends. Then we tried to find natural vanilla, but it was very expensive and it didn’t smell very distinctly. So we wrote to the manufacturer of the artificial vanilla to try to find out what was in it, because maybe then we could justify putting it in the soap. But they wouldn’t tell us! Artificial fragrances recipes are protected as trade secrets. So maybe they are fine, but other sources report that the majority of artificial fragrances are derived from petroleum.

Other ingredients

There is a long list of other synthetic ingredients that may be found in mass market cleansing bars, but listing them would make this article way too long. The best place to look for info on just about every additive to personal care products (and food) is the Environmental Working Group, or EWG. It’s their job to stay up to date on all the latest research on potentially harmful chemicals.

Why do companies use chemicals?

Ok, technically everything is made of chemicals, but you know what I mean. Why do large skin care companies use synthetic ingredients? For one, they’re cheaper than natural ingredients. For another, they’re easier to process and store. And finally, it’s easier to get them to produce exactly the desired result, such as super intense colors and scents. Remember that artificial vanilla we found at the herb store? It smelled like an hyper-natural BLAST of vanilla. Unfortunately, a lot of natural scents aren’t able to translate into soap. You can distill the essential oil out of a certain number of plants, mostly strong-smelling herbs, but I’ll bet that blueberry-ice-cream-scented soap is synthetic. Likewise, many flower scents are incredibly expensive to distill in their natural form, so, for example, if you want a jasmine bar of soap that costs less than $25, you have to use synthetic.

Regular Soap that isn’t soap!

As a final note on artificial soap, you might have noticed that a couple paragraphs ago I used the term “cleansing bars.” That’s because, legally, soap has to be made out of mostly oil, water, and lye. If it’s not, they have to call it something else, such as a detergent or “syndet” bar. That doesn’t mean that some companies don’t make actual soap and then put a bunch of other stuff in it. Dove soap is a great example. One ingredient is listed as “sodium tallowate,” which is just another way of saying tallow, or beef fat, that has reacted with the lye catalyst. Maybe not very delicious, but it is natural. But Dove also contains cocamidopropyl betaine, a synthetic surfactant. Likewise, Lush soap, even though we love its minimal packaging, contains SLS and parabens.

Organic soap has many other benefits

In the last part of this article, I’m going to talk about why organic soap is the best choice if you’re concerned not only about what sort of products you put on your skin, but also, the greater impacts of the production and disposal of those products. Organic soap is generally better for the environment, for animals, and for the local economy.

Better production

One reason organic soap is better for the environment is that its plant-based ingredients are grown without pesticides or chemical fertilizers. There is a ton of writing on why these substances are harmful so I’m just going to give a couple examples. Pesticides and artificial fertilizers can kill beneficial insects along with the ones that damage crops, they can harm other animals and plants, they can contaminate soil and water, and they can make people sick if they are exposed directly.

Better disposal

Another reason organic soap is better for the environment is that it breaks down easily after it is washed down the drain. Some of the ingredients that are bad for you in mass-market soap are also bad for fish and other organisms. Compounds such as parabens that mimic hormones are especially harmful, as they can disrupt these creatures’ life cycle.

Better for animals

Organic soap is better if you’re concerned about animals for a couple different reasons. For one, most organic soap is not made out of animals! There are some natural soaps that do use animal fat such as lard or tallow. If you’re looking to avoid these ingredients, check the labels, and look up the ingredients if you’re not sure. Sometimes ingredients are listed under names such as sodium lardate or sodium tallowate, which are the technical names for the free fatty acid salts that make up soap. Organic soap is also better for animals because usually, no animal testing is required. Organic soap ingredients are listed by the FDA as GRAS, or generally recognized as safe, and most new recipes are simply variations on older ones.

Better for the economy

Finally, organic soap has greater social benefits beyond personal safety and the environment. Most organic soap is made in small batches by local crafters. Studies have shown that the majority of money spent in local businesses stays within the community. At farmer or crafter markets, you can buy directly from the producer and attach a face to the product. And even if they don’t sell directly at markets, usually small-batch makers are more accessible than their corporate counterparts in case you have questions or suggestions for improvement.

Conclusion

After going through all these reasons, it’s easy to see why  WECAREBEST organic soap is a great choice.

When we started, it was also the beginning of a larger maker movement, as producers and consumers shift back to smaller, more local, more unique products and better for your skin.

#Soap # Organic Soap #health #castile soap

[mystery-deer]

Nuclear (b99 kevin/holt)

The phone call from Debbie came deep into the afternoon. It was a dismal day and rained for the better portion of it, the kind of rain that didn’t dissipate only waxed and waned.

“I’m pregnant Raymond!” She exclaimed happily. He could hear her pacing around her house, picking things up and putting them down again like she always did when talking on the phone. He remembered she almost choked him with the cord doing that. “My senses are so strong I threw up because I saw someone ELSE eating relish on a hotdog!” She continued.

Raymond shuddered. RELISH on a hotdog? It was one of the only preferences they had in common. He could recall (though he didn’t at that moment) a great many family barbeques and picnics where they’d be offered the accursed condiment and both pulled faces their mother chastised them for. “Is senses heightening a part of pregnancy?”

“Hell yeah it is!” She declared.

“Ah, I see.” He nodded, sure she must be an expert in the matter. “Well, I’m very happy for you. Please keep me updated.”

As he hung up he heard the door open and his fiancee step in. The moment they'd gotten the house it was decided that they were fiancees. “There’s no legal way to prevent us from being engaged to be married.” Kevin had stated simply, ever the romantic.

“Who was that?” He asked, shrugging off his soaked coat and slipping his shoes off at the door. He looked like a drowned rat when he was wet, his thin hair sticking to his paler-than-average forehead. He would often bemoan how 'perfect' Raymond could look even after being in the rain or having just taken a shower.

Raymond smiled, feeling fond of him. As an afterthought he said, “My sister, she’s pregnant.”

How wonderful!” Kevin said, voice lilting slightly. Raymond honestly couldn’t understand why people said it was monotonous. It had so many soft depths to it, the slight upturn when he was especially pleased by a piece of news never failed to warm his heart.

“Every pregnancy is not good news.” He said suddenly, surprised as he had not planned to say it. “People often default to saying that but there are plenty of instances in which a pregnancy is cause for alarm and panic.”

Kevin nodded and shook out his umbrella. “I see. Good news for her and not for you?” He asked, hitting the nail on the head.

Raymond looked at the nail and did not recognize it as his own. “I’m not- I am perfectly...fine. With the information.” Kevin silently communicated his doubt at this, setting his umbrella out to dry. “It’s not that I’m upset, I just feel...odd.”

Kevin kissed his fiancee’s temple and placed an extremely cold and wet hand on the back of his neck, making him jump. “Please feel free to collect your thoughts while I make us tea, it’s pouring and I know you neglected to take your umbrella.”

“The weatherman did not indicate it would rain.” Raymond protested. He had had to throw his entire outfit in the dryer and change into pajamas despite it not being nighttime. He deserved it, it was his day off.

���I told you it would.”

“You are not the weatherman. Speaking of which, the deli counter clerk referred to me as ‘the rain man’ today when I went in.”

“Which one, Rodrigo?” Kevin asked. He did not like Rodrigo the deli counter clerk. Rodrigo had once, when Kevin ordered a sausage, winked at him and chuckled a notably slurred "right on man!”

“Yes.” Raymond had had no such interactions with Rodrigo.

“I see.”

“It’s a movie.” Raymond clarified for him, thinking that the source of Kevin’s frustration. “I believe the main character has the same name as me.”

“I’m aware.” Kevin remarked, opening the cabinets and taking out their favorite mugs. He was certain Raymond would deny having a favorite mug in front of company but Kevin had noted that he would only use other mugs if that particular one was not available. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, a bluish gray. “Oh, I got your text and I bought more honey.”

“Bought more what?” “More-” Kevin turned to see his fiancee raising an eyebrow slyly and smiled, that was his Raymond. Always playing jokes on him.

“Very funny.” He said, meaning it. Raymond smiled as well and went to retrieve the bear-shaped bottle along with several other items he had realized he’d forgotten after coming home from his errands. And he certainly had no intention of going back out in that veritable storm, he had on his pajamas for chrissake.

“I don’t understand why you buy this brand and not the honey with the normal container.” He said, putting the bear down on the counter as Kevin filled the kettle.

“It’s cute.” He replied. “If you think it’s cute why would you purchase it? You’re meant to drain the honey from it. It is morbid and the same reason why I am against latte art.” “I know your stance on latte art intimately.”

(Flashback: The two of them in a Parisian inspired cafe of Kevin’s choosing, both of them in suits, Raymond’s sleeves rolled up because of the rant he’s worked himself into though he’s not yelling. It's a private quasi argument between the two of them. Kevin is drinking from his cup and Raymond's lays untouched on the table.

“I’m just saying it’s fiendish! It’s undrinkable!” “Because of Mr.Cuddlesworth?” “Don’t give it a name for chrissake!” “He’s delicious Raymond try him.” “You’re a monster.”

Flashback ends.)

“I still can’t believe you drank him.” “You’re adorable.” _______________

They had tea a few minutes later, sitting in their living room and watching the fire. Kevin had prepared it and Raymond had remarked that it made the home feel rustic.

“Rustic?” Kevin asked in disbelief, smiling for a moment. “City boy.” “You’re a city boy too now.” He pointed out. Kevin stood and clapped his hands off. “I’ll carry the scars of suburbia in my heart always.”

They sat in silence for the time it took to finish their drinks and they savored the time spent together more than the taste of honey.

“Kevin, do you want children?”

Kevin turned to look at his fiancee, startled by the question. He was staring down into his mug at the leaves left over. “Children?” He asked. “As in having children of our own?”

“Yes.” Raymond said, narrowing his eyes slightly to express his extreme confusion. “Was I unclear?”

Kevin turned to look at the fire and then up at the art hanging above it that was evocative of a starry sky. They'd bought it to christen the house and he remembered the moment vividly. “We can’t have children Raymond.” He paused. “I know some couples adopt - but not AS a couple and even then It’s difficult to adopt as a single parent.”

“I do not have any particular want to have a child.” Raymond admitted. For a brief moment he pictured his mother- looking stoic but clutching her purse so tightly her knuckles paled as the doctor spoke to her in a low consoling tone. “I am far too focused on my job and have never had a want to raise one.”

He pictured Kevin in the hospital when he got shot a few years back. Kevin waiting, hands in his lap, looking stoic except for how they shook there. He told him later that he’d asked at the front desk if Raymond Holt had been admitted and the receptionist peered up at him through horn-rimmed glasses. “Are you family?” She asked.

“I’m-” He’d paused. Thinking of the man he’d seen sitting in a chair near the entrance with a bulls hat and an American flag t-shirt. Hearing a woman by the coffee vending machine talking loudly on her phone, phrases like ‘alternative lifestyle’ and ‘not around my children.’ buzzing in his ears. The room seemed spring-loaded with violence.

“-No. We’re very close friends." He hesitated, voice cracking softly. "We’ve known each other since childhood just...please let me know if there’s any news.” He said and the woman nodded sympathetically because he looked like a wreck. He looked brokenhearted.

Raymond had woken up in his hospital bed alone. Had had to buzz the nurse in four times before she finally got around to fetching him. She kept "forgetting."

He pictured a funeral with not only Kevin but a smaller them- though they couldn’t procreate his imagination supplied a child which was composed of their halves. A mixed boy, brown skin and red hair, crying for his father.

A black boy, brown skin and black hair, holding his baby sister in his arms. Their mother bent at an odd angle, body shaking. It was sunny the day of the funeral and he remembered feeling wrong about it. Debbie couldn’t even talk then - could only babble and repeat if prompted.

Kevin looked relieved. “I must confess I also don’t have any particular want of children.” He said. “They’re fascinating and can be quite adorable but I do not have it in me to raise one.” They were both people who worked long nights. Kevin imagined taking a child to work, leaving them at the daycare (a child could not be trusted to stay quiet in class, even one that was theirs). He would either worry ceaselessly about them or they would grow distant because of the time apart.

He pictured his father- the back of him. He was sitting at his desk at home shifting through medical journals and loose papers. “He’s not to be disturbed.” Said his mother, ushering him away. “Come now.”

He pictured himself, sitting in the study, surrounded by books and grading papers. Saw himself not even noticing his son- an adopted boy who miraculously looked like them, perhaps not in his physical features but in the way he walked and talked and looked at things - lingering at the half open door.

“Come now.” Raymond would say gently, leading him away by the hand. “You will see him when he’s finished.”

“I was thinking of Debbie.” Raymond admitted, though Kevin had already guessed this was the source of their conversation. “I remember when she used to be so...small. It surprised me that she could be pregnant. That she is at the age where being pregnant is a natural thing.”

He remembered her as a child. Both of them in their father’s study. He sat in the middle of the room and watched her run around spinning all of the globes and listing fake facts about wherever they landed. The joy on her face made him want to cry and he hoped she would happy forever. Dust flew around them. He was sure that as she grew she would dim into normalcy but she only grew brighter and brighter.

He remembered her bringing home her future husband, a teacher at that time. He remembered how she shone that day and when she asked "Isn't he just the cutest?" He'd responded "Yes, he has eyelashes." He went into their father's study that day to escape the noise and spun one of the globes lazily with his finger.

“If I were heterosexual would I be married by now? Would I have children?” Raymond and a faceless woman were sitting in the same house - same fire in front of them. A smaller version of him and Debbie were running the background. A child who looked like Kevin sat with his back to them, singing. He felt a weighted sadness settle on him for a moment.

“I don’t want you to feel that you are missing out on some wonderful part of life because you’re with me.” He finished, setting his mug down. The sound transported him back to a night years and years ago. Raymond and Kevin on one end of a dining table and Kevin’s parents on the other. Classical music seeped in through the corners of the memory.

“You’ve done this.” Kevin's father growled, one eye blue with oncoming cataracts. Raymond remembered feeling sorry for him- he was a surgeon after all. “You’ve done this to our son.” And he felt like he’d murdered someone.

("Do not stand at my grave and weep." Kevin's voice read that night, raw with rage and sorrow. "I am not there, I do not sleep.")

He’d told this to Debbie on the phone and she’d succinctly said. “Fuck that old bastard! But I bet you WISH you were good enough to turn a man gay.” And just like that he was innocent again.

“Raymond I don’t feel that I’m sacrificing anything by being with you.” Kevin said. “Even if I was with a woman - and somehow enjoying it - I don’t believe I would want children. I’m perfectly happy with spoiling various nieces and nephews as they pop up.”

They both pictured themselves, older and grayer, in the middle of an intimate but large family. The image was comforting and felt right. They were complete with just the two of them, they didn't need or want anything other than to spend the rest of their lives together.

Raymond smiled, content with this answer and feeling very much the same. He relaxed against his fiancee and hummed in thought.

“What do you think she’ll name the baby?” “Perhaps Dan?” “Yes.” Raymond said, apparently enjoying the thought. “Perhaps.” "Maybe we should get a dog." Kevin suggested and smiled slightly at his fiancee's dismissive snort. "Heaven forbid."