#Pub Bites At Brook Pub

[brookpub]

Winter Cocktails and Pub Bites At Brook Pub

The colder months are perfect for splurging, and there's no better way to celebrate than with a well-thought-out bar menu. We've selected a variety of Winter Cocktails and Pub Bites at Brook Pub that are sure to lift your spirits. Try them with some of our carefully created bar snacks, and you'll have a match made in gastronomic heaven.

Raise Your Spirits: A Delicious Winter Cocktail Tour

Strawberry Daiquiri: 

Every sip is like a ray of sunshine.

Enjoy our refreshing Best Strawberry Daiquiri as a way to forget about the cold weather outside. This refreshing drink combines the fruity flavours of ripe strawberries with the tartness of fresh lime juice and the smoothness of white rum. When served cold, it's a pleasant reminder that summer's vivaciousness is just around the corner.

Espresso Martini: 

introducing Your Life with Spark and Class

The Espresso Martini is the ideal choice for individuals who need a classy pick-me-up. This cocktail is robust because it mixes the silky indulgence of vodka and coffee liqueur with the decadent richness of freshly made espresso. It's a caffeine-infused treat that will perk you up anytime.

Passion Fruit Martini: 

Unique Flavours, a Once-in-a-Lifetime Adventure

The Passion Fruit Martini will whisk you away to sandy beaches. A premium vodka and a little sugar are combined with the exotic tang of passion fruit to create this tropical jewel. It's an exotic getaway from the winter's chill, served in a chilled martini glass.

Margarita: 

Traditional Favour with a Spicy Kick

The classic Margarita cocktail should be on every bartender's list. Our take on the classic cocktail combines tequila, fresh lime juice, and orange liqueur with a dash of salt on the rim of a salt-rimmed glass. The zesty citrus flavours balance the smokiness of the tequila.

Mojito: 

The Perfect Minty Blissful Refreshment

Get your fill of the Mojito's refreshing flavours. This traditional Cuban cocktail is made by muddling together white rum, lime juice, and mint leaves. It's a revitalising and refreshing option when topped with soda water.

Amaretto Sour:

A Citrusy, Nuttiness of Pleasure

The Amaretto Sour is an excellent example of how well nuttiness and citrus coexist. This drink combines the sweet amaretto liqueur with the tart lemon juice for a deliciously balanced flavour. A soothing and stimulating beverage is the end product.

Hot Buttered Rum:

Traditional hot buttered rum is made with black rum, hot water, butter, and spices like cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves, and is a great way to warm up on cold winter days. It's perfect for a cold night before the fire because of its velvety smoothness and warming spices.

A Cranberry Mule:

This festive take on the Moscow Mule blends vodka, ginger beer, and cranberry juice for a delicious tart beverage. Its vibrant colour and tangy flavour make it a welcome addition to any holiday get-together.

"Irish Coffee":

Irish coffee is a classic drink with hot coffee, Irish whisky, sugar and whipped cream. The combination of caffeine and alcohol delivers a fantastic pick-me-up on chilly winter mornings or a calming nightcap.

Maple Bourbon Old Fashioned:

This updated take on an old favourite uses maple syrup to add a rich, caramelised sweetness. This cocktail is cosy and refined, thanks to the bourbon, bitters, and orange twist.

A Winter Sangria:

Winter Sangria is a delicious cocktail with red wine, brandy, and seasonal fruits, including oranges, pomegranates, and cranberries. The vivid colours and fragrant aromas will perk you up on the greyest of winter days.

Martini with Pears and Spices:

Pear vodka, pear liqueur, and some aromatic spices like cinnamon and cloves combine to make this sophisticated drink. It's perfect for a classy winter party with its fruity sweetness and subtle spiciness.

Pub snacks that go well with a drink:

Brie cheese baked with a cranberry sauce:

The tart cranberry sauce complements the melty brie cheese well. The creamy, acidic, and sweet flavours complement the Cranberry Mule nicely.

Mini Meatballs on a Stick:

Tender meatballs marinated in a flavorful sauce and skewered for dipping. If you're having a Maple Bourbon Old Fashioned, these tasty snacks are a must.

Bacon-Roasted Brussels Sprouts:

Bacon chunks and balsamic glaze are combined with Brussels sprouts to make a crispy side dish. Irish coffee is a perfect complement to this savoury dish.

Chicken Wings with Pomegranate Glaze:

Enjoy the sticky, sweet, slightly sour chicken wings wrapped in a delectable pomegranate glaze. The Winter Sangria is perfect with these wings.

Prosciutto with fig crostini:

Baguette slices slathered with honey and piled high with prosciutto, figs, and creamy goat cheese. A glass of the Spiced Pear Martini and these sophisticated appetisers are a match made in heaven.

Fried Sweet Potatoes with Chipotle Mayonnaise:

Sweet potato fries are fried to a golden crisp and accompanied by a smoky, spicy chipotle aioli. The Hot Buttered Rum complements the smokiness of the fries well.

Make this winter the best one yet by hosting a cocktail party complete with tasty bar snacks. These pairings can help you create a warm and memorable ambience, whether you're hosting a Christmas party or just relaxing at home. Embrace the season with these delicious combos and savour the warmth they bring. I hope you all have a fantastic winter!

Brook Pub Christmas celebrations:

We are happy to announce that we accept pre-bookings for Christmas parties if you plan to throw a party for your friends, family and colleagues this Christmas. Our merry, magical festive menu will be available from 25th November to 24th December, and you can enjoy two courses for 26 pounds and three for 30 pounds.

We have come up with a special Canape menu along with a Merry Magical Festive menu for the party. From the Festive Canape Menu, you can choose 6 - 18 pounds or 8 to 24 pounds course. Coming to the main event, Christmas, we created a special day menu for 2 courses for 39.99 pounds and 3-course meals for 44.99 pounds. The food will served from 12 to 4 pm, so make this day a special one by bringing in your family and friends. Come enjoy some of the best Winter Cocktails and Pub Bites At Brook Pub!!

[armpirate]

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 10

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

First thing I do when I'm done with one of the customers is drive to Tae's pub to hang out with him and Jimin. I have been meeting Tae quite frequently these two weeks, but it's been impossible to hang out with Jimin at all.

I get it though. Out of the three of us, he's the only one who's still in a committed relationship. I used to be like him when I dated Leslie. I even stopped hanging out as much with Tae because of her -even after we both came from Korea together, because neither of us knew what we would do without the other. And probably that was one of the reasons why he never really liked Leslie that much -he almost threw a party when he got to know we both broke up, and almost fought her when he learned that she cheated on me.

—Hey, cutie —Brooke greets me with a malicious smile.

—Hey —I greet her, eyes fixed at one of the tables in the middle of the pub—. Give me a coke, please.

I don't really wait for her to say she got the command. I make my way to their table, although I regret it the exact moment they lay their eyes on me.

—Oh, look who dared to come after thirty minutes —Tae jokes.

—Yeah, all the whining, just for you to be late —Jimin complains.

—Don't get me started —I lift my finger at him—, when you're the one who has been standing us up continuously.

—Says the one who forgot he had friends for five years —Jimin looks at me with one of his eyebrows raised.

—Wait, that's right —Tae looks at me—. Why am I even hanging out with you?

I roll my eyes when they both team up to come against me. They always do this, it doesn't matter what the context is, I'm always the one on the losing team.

—How's Nori doing? —I ask, trying to stop the joke before we three actually get worked up on it.

—Fine —Jimin shrugs—. We barely had any free time with the whole moving thing.

—Will you throw a party at the new place? —Tae asks.

—What's this obsession with parties? —Jimin squints his eyes at him.

While they are about to start an argument between them, I feel my phone shake in the front pocket of my jeans. I bite my lip, playing with my lip ring, as I try to hold back a smile when I see her text.

Cocktease: Tam won't be here today

Cocktease: Just in case you want to put my observing skills to test after you're done with your customer.

Me: I probably will finish late today

—Cocktease? —Brooke gets my attention— Do you really have someone saved that way?

—It's no one —I lock the screen—. Thanks —I dryly say, moving the iced drink closer to me.

Brooke seems to get I don't want to talk about it, nor find her question funny, because she leaves without saying a word. I know she meant no wrong with that question, but thanks to her now I have Jimin and Tae looking at me, and probably waiting to see who will be the first one to start the interrogatory.

—Who the fuck is "Cocktease"? —Tae frowns at me.

—And why haven't you talked about her with us?

—Her? It could be a man —I give a sip to my drink after I mention that.

—Kook —Jimin snorts—. Come on. Who is she?

—She's no one —but I know they won't let it go.

But of course, that still doesn't convince them, and that's why I end up giving in and giving them the vaguest explanation.

—She's someone I met.

—No, fuck off —Tae huffs—. You can't be this big of an asshole to have her saved as "Cocktease" because you don't remember her name. Poor girl.

I sigh in relief when he mentions that, and Jimin just seconds his words, both of them scolding me for my attitude towards all the random girls I meet and hook up with. But, of course, all their ranting is for nothing because I disconnect long before they're able to start.

On that message she seemed pissed off. And while I can't blame her, I think it's a good idea she takes a look around her into the real world -by what Tam told us, Y/n doesn't really seem the type that has lived her life to the fullest. Proved during Melanie's birthday and our drinking games, and confirmed when she threw her hands at her head when I suggested having sex when we met. Well, that's one of the reasons why I barely met with her with the excuse of making her watch over people every night. The other being I probably won't be able to hold back if we get to the other part of our deal.

It took me my biggest effort and self control to stop the kiss before it got too much the other night, I'm sure I'll fuck it up somehow if we decide to go further.

My phone shakes in my hand again. And while I first think it could be Y/n again, I see it's Mark -and I don't even bother to open the chat when I read his text.

Inlaw: Don't bother to come back. Your client canceled, because he regretted the idea last minute. Take some rest.

If I actually thought today would be a bad day...

I take a sip of my drink, before I stand up again and start walking to the door.

—Are you leaving? —Tae asks from afar.

—After the show you two did to get me to come? —I hear Jimin complaining.

—I'll invite you to dinner next time we meet. I promise.

Those are the last words I dedicate to them, before I leave the pub and head to my motorbike -which is, as usual, parked at one side of the main door. And just like I did at Tae's pub, I do the same in the bar she works at, leaving the motorbike at one side of the entrance before I place the stand and hop off.

Before I enter, I see her. She's looking good despite wearing the most normal and basic clothes -she's just wearing a black t-shirt and a small apron surrounding her hips. But soon I'm aware that her serious expression isn't only due to tiredness, when I look a bit better and find a man looking at her up and down while she's just working.

—Don't play hard to get —I overhear after I enter the establishment and get closer to them—. You've been looking at me all night.

I see her tilting her head while her back is still facing him, and she taps on the long lower fridge with her fingers, as if she were trying to control herself.

—May I have a beer? —I interrupt them.

After seeing the relief tinting her eyes, I look at the old man from head to toe. I could knock him out with no effort if I wanted to, and it seems like he also knows I could, because he turns around and leaves us alone before I can even add myself into the conversation.

—You didn't have to do it —she serves me the cold beer.

—Do what? —I frown— I only asked for a beer.

—Your puffed chest says otherwise —she points to that part.

When she does that, I'm fully conscious my chest is a bit higher than usual and my back is tense. Tilting my head while smiling, after I know I used that body posture to intimidate him, I relax and go back to my natural state.

—He isn't the first one —she assures me—, and he won't be the last. There are, at least, four assholes like him every night —she looks at her invisible clock—. Actually, this is the time they start showing up —Y/n supports herself on the counter—. You told me you wouldn't come.

—The customer canceled at the last minute —I sip on my jar—. Have you done what I told you?

The way she squints her eyes and looks around, gives away that she did actually spend some time looking around. But I'm not sure whether she's actually looked into people and their body languages, or if she just stood here and looked at everyone like a security guard at the mall.

Y/n finally nods, and she bends closer to me, supporting the weight of her body on her two elbows resting on the counter.

—Will you make me watch people as if I were Kevin Carter? —she raises an eyebrow— I thought you were going to help me.

Kevin Carter... Who the fuck is that?

—You didn't see anything that could be of help? —I mirror her, raising one of my eyebrows as I try to mock her— Examples of what you should do and what you shouldn't do. Some dudes' expression when they want to run away from a girl?

I'm not saying this is the only way to learn, but it's definitely the best way to get a visual indicator of what you should do or not, without you actually being the one doing shit.

I turn on my stool, just to turn back to her a few seconds after when I spot a girl that reminds me of the scene she pulled with Seokwoo back at the party. She's desperately trying to keep the conversation going, while he's just looking for a safe and fast escape from there.

—She is you.

While the brunette insists on getting closer, the blond male looks at her, takes a sip of his drink and looks around him fast. And he repeats the same cycle a few more times until he's finally able to walk away.

—We're simple —her eyes go back to me—. We don't want to know everything about you the moment we meet —I sip on my drink—. And the male nature is... primitive. We like to believe we're in control of the whole thing, even if it's not true. A girl that speaks too much and leads the conversation? She's out 99% of the time. She reeks of desperation.

—What about the other 1%?

—She's an eleven out of ten, the dude is way too drunk, the dude is even more desperate than her —I start counting with my fingers.

—That's offensive.

—You started your words-vomit with my cousin. You didn't seem desperate, but you seemed nervous and insecure. And you proved it even more when you ran away right after. Result? You ended up upstairs alone.

And actually... Thank god she ended up upstairs alone.

—We are assholes. And we want what we think it's difficult to get —I shrug—. If you play hard to get, keep stuff to yourself, tease a bit, and act unpredictable... any man will be after you. Whether it's on Tinder, a friend of a friend, or even that guy that's almost going to pass out over there —I point with my head to a long haired guy almost falling from the edge of the counter.

—Ohh so you're into girls like that? —that's the only conclusion she gets from everything I've said.

—Yup —I look at her, tilting my head—. That's why I like you.

✸ ✸ ✸

Even if I could've left long ago, I still stayed to keep her company the rest of her shift. And I also stay to help her pick everything up after she closes.

—You can go —she tells me, as she walks to where I'm standing—. Thank you for the lesson.

—I'll take you home —behind the counter, I'm still placing the glasses inside the dishwasher.

—It's alright.

—I said I'll take you home —I insist, without looking at her.

And probably it sounds rougher than I intended to. I didn't pretend to sound like I was forcing her to go with me, but I don't think she should be going home alone this late, when I can easily drop her off anywhere.

After we're done inside, we walk to my motorbike. I hop on it first, waiting for Y/n to get on it after me and wrap her arms around me. But that never happens. When I turn to her, and try to look over my shoulder, I see her smirking as she holds onto the bars on the sides of the seat.

Grinning at that image, seeing her upper body slightly lifted up because of her arched back in that position, I take off the stand and make the engine roar.

—It's up to you.

She doesn't move an inch while we go straight on the road, and I actually have no reason to turn right yet, but she's begging to be teased right now. I turn abruptly, feeling her arms instantly wrap around my body, followed by a short scream as she sticks her body to mine.

Something that should've been used to tease her, ended up playing against me. Because the feeling of her fast heartbeat and her tits pressing on my back is clouding my mind with the filthiest scenarios.

Everything I've been trying to avoid these weeks goes to hell as soon as I feel her closer than I should for three minutes.

She stands next to the motorbike when we arrive to her place, but before she's able to say goodbye -and before I can think it better-, I drop the question:

—Can I go up to your place?

[devouringcambridge]

Sunday Roast at The Brook

I'm not an expert, but to me, the concept of a Sunday Roast is as British as afternoon tea or adding 'innit' to the end of all your sentences. There are so many pubs that offer this quintessential British cuisine, but today, I'm reviewing the Sunday Roast offered at The Brook. Located on Mill Road, The Brook is a cozy-sized pub with a warm atmosphere and some delicious ciders available...but how does their Sunday Roast hold up?

British Top Side Roast Beef with Horseradish Sauce (15 pounds)

I had such MIXED FEELINGS about this Sunday Roast. It was a roller coaster of emotions served up with a half-vat of gravy on the side. Some bites had my eyes rolling back in my head with ecstasy. Other bites belonged in the frozen aisle of a discount grocery store. Because of this, I'll rank each item, individually, from worst to best.

6. The Vegetables

I adore roasted veggies. Throw some broccoli, carrots, onions, and cloves of garlic on a roasting pan, drizzle with olive oil, toss some salt and pepper on top, and chuck that baby into the oven and I am more than happy. But these veggies had no tales to tell - they were bland, flavorless, steamed, and unhappy. Just like me after eating the lifeless carrots.

5. Top Side Beef

Seeing as it's called a Sunday ROAST, you'd think the meat would be the star of the show. And while it looks quite nice in the picture, the beef was so dry that I had to resort to dunking it into the gravy in order to make it palatable. It also didn't have much flavor beyond the gravy itself, which leads me to...

4. The Gravy

Solidly fine, and served with a generous portion. However, could do with more of a flavor PUNCH. As it was, I used it mostly as a moist-maker.

3. The Stuffing

And all of a sudden we jump from 'solidly fine' to 'oh my god, I wish I could ask for seconds.' The stuffing is invisible in this picture, and was a surprise to me. In fact, now that I'm writing this, I'm wondering if I got a different roast than the one on the menu...perhaps a holiday offering? Because stuffing isn't mentioned in the description, and I'm just realizing that there was no horseradish sauce in sight, either...hmm, well, all's well that ends well, because I'm glad for the swap. This stuffing was moist and packed with flavor - it tasted of salt, herbs, and garlic, and had a dense, crumbly texture. My only complaint was that there was such a small amount - it hid beneath the potatoes, a noble treasure.

2. The Yorkshire Pudding

My first bite of the Sunday Roast was a chunk of the fluffy, soft Yorkshire Pudding - and I can't be certain I didn't moan. It's been six months since the last time I had a Yorkshire Pudding, and I now realize that that is far too long. Honestly, I know a lot of people rag on British food, but the Yorkshire Pudding deserves to be appreciated internationally. I just wish I could describe it better, for those who've never tried one. It's almost like...the love child of a souffle, a pancake, and pita bread...but also different from all of those things. The texture is NEXT LEVEL. So freaking fluffy. And the perfect vessel for soaking up pan sauces and gravy. Ugh, I would have traded the beef for another Yorkshire Pudding with no hesitation. And honestly, the Yorkshire Pudding was probably THE best thing on the plate...but, they're also pretty hard to get wrong. Put a Yorkie P on my plate, and I'll be happy almost always. Although, I won't take away from The Brook here - they do a particularly good one.

The Roast Potatoes

After tasting the sad veg, I feared the potatoes would also be steamed and unseasoned. Instead, The Brook said 'try the best fucking roasted potatoes you've ever had, ye of little fucking faith.'

Crispy on the outside but fluffy on the inside, these taters were perfectly cooked. Flavorful on their own, they verged on orgasmic when slathered in gravy. And I don't even usually LIKE roast potatoes!

So, now, hopefully, you see why this Sunday Roast is hard to rate. How do you compare the worst steamed veggies I've ever had - even the ones in elementary school had salt on them - to the fucking best roast potatoes I've ever had?! It's madness. Madness! While the stuffing and the Yorkshire puddings also pull their own weight, I will say, because the meat is supposed to be the focal point of a Sunday Roast, I'm going to have to give this particular roast at The Brook a...

Rating: 6 out of 10 Gravy Boats

Honestly, if I had just been handed a plate of Yorkshire Pudding and Roast Potatoes, the score would have been much higher...although I'd be eating nothing but carbs. Still. Some things in life are worth every bite, while other things - like the dry beef - are barely worth chewing.

[brokehorrorfan]

You’ve Got Red on You: How Shaun of the Dead Was Brought to Life will be published on October 19 via 1984 Publishing. It's the first book authored by Entertainment Weekly senior writer Clark Collis.

Explore the making of the 2004 horror-comedy with input from director/writer Edgar Wright, writer/actor Simon Pegg, producer Nira Park, actors Nick Frost, Kate Ashfield, Bill Nighy, Lucy Davis, and Chris Martin, as well as many of the extras who played zombies.

The tome also features commentary from famous fans such as Quentin Tarantino, Eli Roth, Zack Snyder, Greg Nicotero, and Max Brooks, plus storyboards, brainstorming notes, and candid pictures from the cast and crew’s personal archives.

The 424-page limited first edition features hardcover packaging with red foil gilded page edges, foil cover elements, and a black satin ribbon marker. Hagcult designed the cover art.

How did a low-budget British movie about Londoners battling zombies in a pub become a beloved global pop culture phenomenon?

You’ve Got Red on You details the previously untold story of 2004’s Shaun of the Dead, the hilarious, terrifying horror-comedy whose fan base continues to grow and grow. After consulting dozens of the people involved in the creation of the film, author Clark Collis reveals how a group of friends overcame seemingly insurmountable odds to make a movie that would take bites out of both the UK and the US box office before ascending to the status of bona fide comedy classic.

Featuring in-depth interviews with director Edgar Wright, producer Nira Park, and cast members Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Kate Ashfield, Bill Nighy, Lucy Davis, and Coldplay singer Chris Martin, the book also boasts a treasure trove of storyboards, rare behind-the-scenes photos, and commentary from famous fans of the movie, including filmmakers Quentin Tarantino and Eli Roth, The Walking Dead executive producer Greg Nicotero, and World War Z author Max Brooks.

As Pegg’s zombie-fighting hero Shaun would say, “How’s that for a slice of fried gold?”

Pre-order You’ve Got Red on You: How Shaun of the Dead Was Brought to Life from Amazon.

[itsmoonphobic]

𝐓𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. ☾︎

𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑄𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡!: 𝑀𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑟,𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒.

-> For my friends [a group of losers :)] Thank you,it's been a hell of a run,but all good things must come to an end one day. I will come visit soon,until then: I'll be lurking somewhere in the shadows. ☁️

"𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓,𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒈𝒐 𝒐𝒏." ❥︎

moon's time on mcytblr election server: 10/12/2020 - 05/17/2021 ❣︎

He felt cold.It had been so long since he felt this cold.His head was clouded,throbbing with regret and guilt of the things he said.It felt like somebody was constantly ripping his mind apart,putting it back together and taking it apart all over again.His hands shook, pale fingertips tracing his black gloves aimlessly and blue eyes shining brightly under the dark indigo sky. Moon ruffled his wings,cupping his back with the furred leather in an attempt to comfort himself and calm down his beating heart. The hollow bones hummed,crisp wind gliding over their shells and further cold nestling into his veins. No clouds were on the canvas above him,only little shimmering freckles splattered across the deep colored tarp. Moon cocked his head to the side,observant orbs gliding over the stretching landscape ahead of him. The tavern was close now,the phantom hybrid could pick up the faint chatter of people,gentle strumming of guitars,and soft ballads. The lights of houses,vibrant mosaic windows of the church he remembered visiting as a child. Moon breathed deeply,closing his eyes and nuzzling his face further into the black mask covering his nose.

His thoughts continue to buzz. He missed them. He hurt them. The young hybrid would never forgive himself for making his family and friends cry,no matter how many times they reassured him they weren't upset. Was he being selfish? He shook his head, black hair messily falling over his eyes,he brushed the strands away with the back of his hand. Teeth gritting and nose scrunching up in the process,his hair was a disaster - just like the rest of him. The assassin sighed,dropping his shoulders and retracting his wings under his black robe. They felt heavy,he didn't want to fly tonight,flying was considered a award and Moon definitely didn't deserve one after what he did tonight.The black haired hybrid rubbed at his eyes tiredly,everything felt wrong.His ears perked up at the far dong of the city bells,it ringed too loud for his liking. His sensitive senses were overwhelmed by every little noise surrounding him. Bugs and mice crawling over the moist grass under him,bubbling brooks and croaking frogs sitting by the flowing water of the river close by.

Moon clasped his hands over his pointed ears,taking a moment to calm himself and cool down. He couldn't keep this behavior up,it was unnatural for him to act like this - act so vulnerable. He hated this side of him,he wanted to cut it off with one of his blades, throw it away and never have to experience it again. Though,like most things are in life,it wasn't that simple. He would pull his knees to his chest,curl his tail around them,drape his wings over his shoulders and turn into a ball of his own fears and worries. Moon dropped his hands down abruptly,eyes filling up with tears and glazing over his blue eyes. Near. Near would hug him. They would open their arms and wait for Moon to accept their embrace himself,not wanting to push the unstable hybrid further by ambushing him with physical affection. Moon's lips quirked up - the motion so small that not even he himself seemed to catch up to it. He will miss that. He will miss it alot.

Moon cracked his neck,straightened his back and rolled his wrists. He needed to keep moving for tonight,he knew a place he could spend the night and in reality it didn't matter when he would arrive there,but his head is pounding and his thighs are aching. He just wanted to eat,drink some hot beverage and sleep. He slid his tounge over his canines,propping his hands on his knees and jumping off of the branch he was settled on. His black combat boots landed soundlessly on the furry moss,it felt nice. After a moment of processing and calculating the route that would lead him to the tavern the fastest,the hybrid was on his feet and running away into the night - his slender form blending perfectly into the shadows.

•

To say Moon was happy to be in the town center again would be a big fucking lie. It was loud,crowded and the smells were intense. Being a ghost story amongst the lands was making his problems only worse,he couldn't stroll carelessly down the brick concrete path,he needed to hide. His black hood covered his head,a shadow casted over his face and keeping him anonymous to the world. He watched the people casually,pings of jealousy climbing along his brain like wines on trees. Little kids were dragging their friends along,enthusiastic hands grabbing eachother's limbs.Their laughter and giggles filled his ears and his eyes furrowed in annoyance.The image of Violet and Rib popped up in his head. Two overly irritating brats that only seemed to get on Moon's nerves whenever he arrived at the guild. Yet the hybrid smirked fondly,he adored the two like his own siblings and would kill anyone who even dared to look at the them the wrong way. It sparked a flame of protectiveness in him that Moon never knew he could have over a pair of bothersome kids.

Moon's head peeked up behind the alleyway,his eyes cold. He scanned the crowd,spotting the tucked away motel in a corner. It wasn't far now,he just needed to successfully navigate his way though the ocean of people. The assasin pushed his back away from uncomfortable surface behind him and looked at it with disgust,middle finger flying up. Moon's hands pulled his hood down futher,extra precautions to keep himself safe. With one final sigh of uncertainty the hybrid collected all of his confidence that seemed to dissapear under all the stress,and headed towards the oak wooden doors. Focusing perfectly still,trying his hardest not to pry his eyes away from his goal and get distracted by the shiny jewelry and crystals being sold all around him. Kiosks lined the streets,both sides filled with diverted goodies that he just wanted to touch and maybe even slip them into his pockets unknowingly.

He had money,golden coins and silver medals. But the thrill of stealing was just so much more fulfilling. He knew it was morally wrong,blinking away the fact that he was a trained killer,but it didn't bother him in the slightest,Moon stopped thinking about morals a long time ago.He shook his head once again,stomach growling loudly under piles of felt and cloth. He cringed,grabbing his belly irritatingly - a pathetic attempt to stop his hunger.His throat burned,a dry wasteland dancing over his tounge. Thankfully Moon made his way over to his sanctuary for the night without problems. His feet stopped automatically infront of the small timber doors leading into the pub,cracks and ripped bark decorated the pale wood. The phantom hybrid pushed against the doors lightly,opening them in a swift motion.

Immediately the smell of cheese,dried ham,honey and bread filled his nostrils. Rum and beer,wine and herbal teas. Smoked salmon pomegranate and roasted oranges. He picked up many fragrances. And he enjoyed them to the fullest, some were stronger than others but he couldn't deny they were pleasant. Bright eyes inspected the large citadel.Dark spruce tables and chairs,cussions made of cotton,soft wool and silk. His fingers twitched,he knew they were soft,he wanted to lay his head on them and breathe in the smell of lavender and mothballs. An image flashed again. Goose used to give him scented candles to help him fall asleep. They were nice to him,they always helped around the guild. He would give them lettuce and greens in return as a thank you.Moon pushed them aside,he needed to focus on the task at hand,getting his hands on some proper food to satisfy his empty stomach.

He dragged his feet across the dirty floor,boards creaking loudly under his heavy steps.The sound attracting curious faces. Silence overtook the room slowly,the sound awfully loud. Moon didn't react,he knew they were directed at him. He could feel more and more sets of eyes settle on his form,unnerving shivers traveling along his spine. His wings shuffled quickly - defense mechanism. Puzzled murmurs filled the space of the bar,the people clearly confused about the mysterious stranger. Moon was pretty sure he looked like death itself at the moment,dark clothes covering his body,knives rattling threateningly,face completely redacted. He didn't spare any of them a glance,knowing how they would react. Fear and commotion was the last thing he wanted to cause with his presence.

'For the love of god I just want to eat some fuckin' food in peace'

With long but slow strides Moon made his way over to the bar. His thoughts from earlier in the forest slowly creepin back into his brain and biting at his cold pricked skin. Goosebumps tenderly rose over his arms and collarbone,he felt them tingle. It almost made him stop in his tracks but he kept pushing his tired feet towards the chair. He gripped the smooth wooden object rougher than intended and a soft 'sorry' brushed past his lips. The bartender stiffened,eyes widening for a brief second before collecting herself again. Moon eyed her carefully under his hood. Her skin was peachy tanned,blonde curly hair pulled up in a simple bun,eyes the color of his birth stone,Peridot. She didn't seem to catch his piercing eyes,instead shakingly grabbing one of the clean glasses and drying them off. Her back was turned to him,but he easily noticed the way she would throw a sneaky look at him over her shoulder. He took in her white dress,spiraling designs flowing over her waist,colorful flowers sprawled down her chest.

Moon breathed. It was hard,exhausting just to take a small huff of air and release it again. He kept the warm air inside longer than expected and huffed it out tardily. His head was still hurting like a bitch,like somebody breaking his shull open with their bare fists. Another imagine crossed his mind. The cozy atmosphere and smells of the motel made him recall buried memories,times when he felt warm and safe. The hybrid dropped his head tiredly,rubbing his face exhaustingly.He pulled at his mask warily,giving it a second thought before finally deciding on not caring any longer. He needed to relax,needed to feel human. His hood stayed up. Songs started playing again in the background,the aura in the pub returning to the one he felt when he entered through the doors.

It was nice. He would occasionally pick up on a few cautious looks but his body was too tired to react. His elbow rested on the desk infront of him,his other hand flying to his knife holder instinctively. Empty. He fumbled with the holsters hastily,sharp blades touching his exposed fingers,but one spot -his favorite spot- was empty. Where the fu- oh.

<- memory lane ->

"Vibes."

The owner of the name looked at the black haired assassin expectedly. Their big grey eyes lightning up with curiosity,soft dimples sneaking onto their face. Moon smiled fondly at his friend, tenderly taking their hand in his - never breaking eye contact. Vibes watched cautiously as the hybrid reached towards his ribs, guiding his gloved hand towards his knife holders. Vibes gasped, breath cutting short as they observed what Moon was holding out towards them. Soft yet fond whispers were heard behind them,yet both of them chose to ignore them and focus on the special moment being shared between them.

"I need you to take care of something very important for me while I'm gone okay?"

The silver blade reflected gleamingly under the torches and chandelier of the guild citadel. Sharp edges and curved points. Tiny,barely visible if not payed enough attention to,engraved lettering on the shiny metal.

Simon.

Vibes' eyes glanced up at Moon contentedly,their grin further widening as the realization finally fully hit them. The masked assasin flicked their forehead playfully,Vibes letting out a small 'oof' at the impact of Moon's slender finger against their skin.The phantom hybrid smirked teasingly,ruffling their hair warmly.His ego tugging harshly at his heart strings in the process. He pushed the feeling far away,concentrating on making his last visit a memorable one. His lips returned to their usual bored line,sharp canines peaking over ever so slightly.

Vibes stopped messaging their now reddened skin and patiently waited for Moon to continue. Said hybrid once again held out his palm,this time however the blade was weightlessly resting upon it. Unsure hands reached out towards the sharp weapon,grey eyes beaming up at the phantom. Moon understood the wordless question: 'Are you sure about this?'

"Go ahead."

Moon couldn't help it,for the hundredth time that night he smiled. He watched as Vibes dragged their finger pads,nails and palms over the knife. Taking in the weapon from every angle in awe.They stopped their movements,locking eyes with Moon once again:

"I'll take good care of him!"

Moon rested his hand on their shoulder,their marigold hoodie crinkling under its weight. He breathed.

"He's in good hands."

<- end of memory lane ->

Right. He gave Simon to Vibes. Moon once again couldn't help but feel the threat of a smile ghost over his lips - Vibes. They were a good friend,somebody he got along with from the moment he joined their little group. His trust in them grew over the months, everyone probably saw it coming that Simon would end up theirs.

"Moon?"

The hybrid's eyes shot up,a little too fast to be considered normal, at the mention of his name. Hands flying to grip his knives and wings threatening to escape under his robes. The moment he caught the female's eyes he stopped in his tracks.

Des.

He relaxed,falling back into his chair. He calmed down the rushing of blood in his ears,head thundering at the combination. His pale eyes watched as the giddy female propped both of her elbows down on the wooden bar table and she comfortably rested her chin on her crossed hands. Her brown hair was disheveled,soft hazel eyes searching for his blue ones. Her freckles dotted over her milky skin as always,a big contrast to his paper white color.She wore her simple white button up,few of them popped open to expose he collarbone,denim overalls keeping it in place.The last time Moon saw her she wore the exact same outfit and the hybrid really started to think that she either didn't own any other ones or that it was simply put her favorite.

She reminded him of Clove. He missed them the most- the two of them had their fair share of memories and even though they still send eachother letters every day,he misses their personal conversations. He left only a few hours ago but it felt like he was gone for months,years,decades. Clove was nice. Moon's eyes filled with a thin cover of salty tears,blinking them away swiftly before they could spill over. Clove and him used to go on walks together, they would talk about all the stupid and useless shit that came to mind,he liked their company.

They would bail him out of time out and sometimes even drag his ass in there themselves.He breathed.

"My,my - look what the cat dragged in." Des didn't even make any effort to hide her surprised and teasing tone while she threw her question at him.Moon shifted slightly in his seat,wings lowering back to their natural pressed form.He slid his mask off of his face, blinking dull up at her. She noticed his unsure movements. Not wanting to further rile him up,Des dropped the joking manner and instead happily asked him what he wanted to order.

"The usual please."

Des smiled,nodding her head at him sharply before turning away and beginning to prepare him his food and drink. Caramel glazed aprikot cheesecake and Strawberry citrus tea,Moon's favorite.The young hybrid had found his way into her hub for many years now and she knew him like the back of her hand. He used to arrive regularly,once or twice a week. She knew the assassin wasn't really able to settle down without bounty hunters being on his tail and searching the whole town when people would say they spotted the infamous 'Nighchaser' running through the streets. But things changed when Moon only started arriving once per month,his attitude along with his hair being well taken care of. She had asked him where he spent his time and he always replied the same:

"With a group of morons."

Des knew,of course she did. She knew the young hybrid found a place where he actually liked going back to,she figured he had people waiting for him back there,somewhere. Time passed and she watched him grow up,bringing back more and more stories from this mysterious place where he stayed at and introducing her to new people everytime he stopped by on his travels. He grew on her and Des knew that whoever those people were,they made Moon feel happy and that's what mattered the most.

Her hands gripped the porcelain plate gingerly,petite hands cartying the sweet goodness over to the tired assassin. She noticed his dark bags the moment he placed down his mask.They were a stark contrast to the color of his skin,ghostly pale. She didn't comment on it,she simply placed down his meal and watched as he stared at it hungrily. Moon gave a low hum of appreciation and started to dig into his food.

•

"So", Des started,Moon watched as she washed off the last of his dirty dishes and placed them organized on the counter above her, "where are you heading to this time?" Moon glanced at his hands, his thumbs twirling around eachother,fidgeting quickly while he thought about his answer.

"I don't know." He had told her truthfully,shoulders shrugging. Becouse honestly? He really had no clue where to go from here. His decision to move on and explore the world by himself was abrupt and sudden but he knew it was right,he knew his friends and family weren't mad at him but he was still angry at himself for leaving them behind. He loved them but he also knew he had to take care of himself. He wanted to scream,cry and rip his hair out becouse he felt like absolute shit. All of his worries and guilt that were lingering at the back of his head now came rushing in and they uncomfortably sat atop of his shoulders. He just wanted to sleep and let the darkness consume him so he could shut off everything around him.He breathed.

He missed them alot. Fox,even if he wanted to bash their head in most of the time made him smile. Dis,his grandma was a kind soul, she was always nice to him even if she did get on his nerves. He knew many people,he still knows them and he will keep it that way till the day he dies,he will carry their names in his head into his grave. Moon shuddered a breath,slowly getting up from his chair, interrupting Des before she could question him further:

"I'll head off for tonight,thanks for the food." With a small wave of his hand,Moon grabbed his bag and climed up the staircase, red rugs removing any trace he stepped on them , where he knew a soft bed filled with blankets and warm milk with honeycomb waited for him.

"Anytime little one." Des smiled.

•

Dropelts of water fell from his hair,the smell of tulips and eucalyptus danced in the air,flushing delicately against his torso. The room was quiet,windows wide open letting him hear the hushed howls of wolves and crickets chirping,moths gliding with the cool summer wind.Moon tangled his hands into his wet hair, fingers untangling his wild locks.His eyes closed as he slowly massaged his scapl,nails ever so slightly scratching the sensitive skin on his head.He had changed his clothes,neatly piling them up on the rocking chair in the far left corner of the small room. His tail swung carelessly behind him,the bones rattling against the wooden floor. He hid away his wings,laying his bare back against the soft,fresh bed covers. Blankets and pillows drowning him in the best way possible. He sighed contently,looking out towards the clear sky and resting his gaze on the moon.

In that moment the phantom hybrid smiled,a tear slipping quietly down his cheek. His hand came up to brush it away - but they kept coming back no matter how many times he wiped them off. The assasin draped the covers over his chest,muscles relaxing into the soft material almost instantly. His head cooled down and for the first time that night Moon breathed properly.

He breathed,closing his eyes and finally got the rest he wanted.

He loved his friends to the moon and back. ♡

<- Author's note ->

Hi. This is a little something I wrote for my dear friends over on the mcytblr election server. You guys changed my life these past months and I can't thank you enough for that. I needed to take a rest,move on and chase my dreams - no matter how cheesy that sounds we simply ignore it. I love you all so much and I will definitely,not only visit,but return one day to tell you all about how crazy the world gets out there.

Love you idiots :)

[Ps: Story is set in my personal AU of the discord - I didn't manage to personally mention all people individually so bare with me: You all are important to me <3]

[queenofgoats]

Dandelion Fields  | Imagine making a deal with Crowley himself

Summary: Desperately you are ready to give everything to get your life back on track. So you stand in the middle of nowhere on a crossroad. Ready for the deal of your life... more or less.

Characters | !no pairs! : Crowley x Reader (gender not mentioned)

Word Count: 1.820

Warning: angst, alcohol, flirtations and words = just spn ;), no cheesy romance stuff A/N: Hello dears, welcome to my second supernatural fanfiction! I had so much fun with the last I had to write again. Since I feel so comfortable with our King of Hell it also had to be him again. And because I miss him pretty much.English isn’t still my native language, so I hope it’s readable. Feedback is always welcome. Have fun! :)

The starry sky spread out directly over you - ice cold and clear. Not a single cloud covered the night scene. If you had been paying attention in astronomy, you might have recognized more than just the big dipper. Now you were overwhelmed by a sight that you otherwise knew fleetingly from books or films.

In your life before you have never felt so small as you did in this moment. A breeze played around the hem of your clothes and surprisingly you shivered. You threw your arms around yourself, irritated. Involuntarily you looked around. Field over field. Far off the beaten track. Just you and this crossroad. The rustling of the grass reached your ears. Somewhere in the far distance a little brook ran its way, softly babbling.

Just you and this crossroad. And the suddenly cold summer night. You have never experienced such a drop in temperature. No longer only shivered from the cold, but also slightly from fear. With a queasy feeling in your stomach, you looked down at your feet. You were standing pretty much exactly on the hole that you just shoveled.   Just a few minutes ago, with shaky hands, you had buried a small box with contents that seemed strange even to you. And now you waited. What exactly did you not know. Not even if you wanted something to happen.

A tired sigh escaped your lips. You didn't know how long you really stood on this deserted crossroad. At some point you gave up waiting for the unknown and stomped back. Your heart weighed as heavy as your head was empty. Did you feel disappointed? Or relieved? In any case you didn't know, but the queasy feeling in the stomach area remained.  

When you arrived back in civilization, you stopped for a moment. You looked thoughtfully down the street that led you home. Your stomach petrified. 

Almost hastily you turned around and found yourself in a corner pub. Actually, you only knew this from passing by. You've never even given a thought to step foot in it. And yet you stood here now. Apart from you, there were only a handful of people who thankfully just minded their business.

You choose a quiet corner. Less smoke. And you were less on the presenter. The waitress kindly handed you the drinks menu, which you sank into pretty quickly. You felt strange. You alone in a pub? At this time? Another sigh. Today seemed like a strange day in general. After all, that thing in the field ...

Something interrupted your train of thought. You felt someone sit down at the table with you. Frightened you threw the card back and there he was. He looked like a... cuddly businessman? Your own thoughts irritated you. Your lips moved hesitantly to say something, but the well dressed middle-aged man cut you off the unspoken word: “Please excuse the delay. My employee is...” he paused for a moment and wiggled his fingers in the air thoughtfully. He rolled his eyes barely noticeably: “...lost. Your job is now a matter for the boss himself.” His voice was smooth, deep, but incredibly warm and gentle. The question mark on your face grew and grew. Again you started to say something, but this time the waitress got in your way: “Hello dears, what can it be?” At first you wanted to ask her for help, whether the bizarre man, but this look he gave you made you order a simple beer. Something in the back of your mind told you it had something to do with the box in the field. Your curiosity was aroused.

“Erm. Well. I...” you stammered picking up the shards of your flying thoughts “Do we know each other?” Your voice, however, was just a croaking whisper. The person opposite in the perfectly fitting suit smiled softly. “Crowley’s my name. Pleasure to meet you. And if I remember correctly, that's yours, right?” With one hand he takes the box you just buried from the inside pocket of his jacket. While he elegantly pushed them onto the table, some earth trickled down. Your eyes got big. Very big. "What? How? ”you heard yourself gasping for air. “The Make A Wish Foundation is here, ta-da.” In disbelief you stared at the, no YOUR box directly in front of you. It was impossible.  

Fortunately for you, the long-awaited beer just came for you. The first sip was long and necessary. Your head shook itself in disbelief. You put the glass back down with trembling fingers. "No." it muttered out of you. A warm hand fell on yours. He barely touched you and still it calmed you down a bit.

Crowley looked at you insistently: “Something is bothering you pretty hard, right? Well, sometimes good things happen.” Wrinkling your forehead, you looked at him, literally sank into his eyes. You felt really comforted by now. Although you didn't actually know him at all. “And I’m good things. So, hello darling.”, a warm smile laid on his lips. “Like the fairy godmother?”, you asked. He just winked at you.  

There was silence for an uncomfortably long moment. You didn't really know what to say. The whole situation was so unreal. Absurd. Your gaze wandered between Crowley and the increasingly empty beer around. Again and again you started to say something, but the words were missing. You had so much on your mind and yet you just weren't able to articulate any of it. And despite everything it felt very, very wrong. Somehow. Deep down in your guts. Like a big life changing mistake. You decided to ignore that.

Crowley leaned back against the wall, relaxed, slowly sipping his drink. Sometimes he gave you quiet glances out of the corner of his eye. He seemed to let you consciously wrestle with your feelings. When he put his now empty glass on the table and ordered a second round, he leaned close to you: “I may be wrong, but there is surely a reason why you originally called me. Or not?" You felt caught out. "Sure." you said shyly. His body so close to you made you visibly nervous. Your cheeks literally glowed.   "Hey." he whispered in a soft voice "Relaxe, Birdie." His hand gently brushed your cheek until it paused on your chin. He gently forced your face in his direction: “I’m the fairy godmother, remember?” You laughed softly and leaned lightly into his hand. For a short moment you closed your eyes, just wanting to enjoy his presence a little, before you took his hand back down. "Crowley," you began hesitantly. "please be honest. What exactly does it get for you? " A small twitch of the corner of his mouth caught your attention. There was nothing sweet or mischievous in there, it was terrifyingly cold. Just a millisecond and a bloodcurdling shiver ran down your spine. Deep to the bone.  

"Good point," he agreed. “Karma isn't exactly known for paying an appropriate commission.” At his words he raised his eyebrows almost outraged. "... and who can live just with air and love, huh?” Crowley interrupted when the next drinks were brought to you two. "Cheers." he toasted you. "And where was I? Oh yes ... the payment. " Loaded with self significance, he took a long swig from the new glass. He also slowly took it off again. Did he play with you? Kind of like a mouse under the deadly kitten paw. “I’m going to visit you in ten years, and then...” “...you want my firstborn?” you tried to hide your nervousness. He waved it off: “Hell no! What am I supposed to... No. In 10 years your soul will be mine. I think it's a very fair deal. At least you get out of your little misery that way." He knew exactly what got you out on the field. Silence.  

Your fingers clamped tightly around the glass, distressed you stared into the drink. Your soul? The grip tightened so that your knuckles appear whitish. Your soul? Never you thought about anything like this before. Let alone whether something like this really exists. “My soul?” you finally bumped. Crowley seemed unimpressed. "Your soul," he repeated. With a chalk-white face you leaned over to him: "Are you the ... the devil?" “Of course not, no. And we don't say the D-word here! " Your gaze wandered back to the bottom of the glass.  

“Birdie, this is a great deal. Just think about it. In 10 years you can make your big dreams come true. That's a damn long time.", he seductived you. You winced and looked at him sideways. Was that it? A good deal? But hey after all, there was still a reason you stepped to the crossroad in the first place. Took a deep breath. And breathed out again. "OK. I'll do it, ”said in a voice you would like to have heard way more convinced. "Hmm." Crowley sighed winningly. "So we'll get into business then." Concerned you looked around the bar and the other guests: “And how does it work? Do I have to sign something? Not with my blood!" “No, my love. A deal like ours is traditionally sealed with a kiss. " You swallowed hard. "So?" Has Crowley been this close to you all along?  

A new level of nervousness was reached. You quickly raised your forefinger and reached for your glass, only to empty it in one go. Unfortunately, beer wasn't exactly the perfect choice to spontaneously drink courage, but it had to be enough. You put the glass down a little too hectically so that it fell over and rolled over half the table. Crowley caught it before it could fall off completely. Laughing softly, he looked at you: “Don't worry, I won't bite. Well... at least if you don't want to." “Huh.” you bumped. Your gaze rested on his typically British narrow lips, while he did not take his eyes off you for a second. Your faces were only a few inches apart. His warm breath brushed your skin. Your teeth were buried in your lower lip. For a moment you paused again. "You like it to make it dramatic, aren't you ?", Crowley sighed, almost annoyed.

In the end, you packed all your concerns in a bundle and swallowed them without further down, just like the beer. Your eyelids closed on their own and the head tilted slightly to one side as your hand rested on Crowley's shoulder. The centimeters became millimeters. Even without direct contact, you could already feel his lips, which instantly melted in yours. This touch. That smell. That kiss! You leaned in a little more, intensified it.

Unfortunately it didn’t last long enough for you, because Crowley slowly broke the kiss. "Birdie, it's been a pleasure doing business with you." You opened your eyes again and you could swear that they briefly flickered blood red. Just for a blink of an eye.  

"See you in 10 years."

[softlass27]

Flufftober Day 29 – thunderstorm dedicated to @robertssvgden​, because she loves the idea of robron + seb and eve as a family unit, and she deserves nice things x

AO3 link here

As they stood shivering in the schoolyard, Robert glanced above them.

“The heavens are gonna open any second now.”

Aaron tilted his head up to see dark clouds rapidly filling the sky, the wind picking up with every passing minute. They’d been getting weather warnings all day, broadcasters promising that tonight was guaranteed to bring a seriously wild storm their way.

Paddy was stuck on an overnight callout with some heavily-pregnant cows, and Aaron’s mum had called him about an hour ago to say that she didn't feel safe driving on the motorway in this weather, so she was stuck in… some hotel, she was pretty vague on the details. She’d told him she was away to meet with potential new suppliers, but between her terrible lying and the sound of an unexpected male voice in the background, Aaron suspected wherever his mother had gone had nothing to do with work.

Either way, Eve had no one to pick her up or look after her, so his mum had begged him to take her for the night – possibly the weekend. Like she needed to ask.

So now they were stood in their usual spot with the other parents at Hotten Primary, waiting to collect two kids instead of one.

Just as the first few droplets of rain began to hit their cheeks, Eve came out of the doors, her eyes quickly scanning the yard until she spotted them and ran over, schoolbag swinging in the air. When she was just a few feet away from them, a violent gust of wind blew behind her, pushing her tiny body along the last few steps until she crashed into Aaron’s legs with a small oof.

“Windy,” she said, blinking up at them.

“Yeah, squirt.” Aaron took the bag from her before it blew right out of her hand.

“Is Mummy not coming?”

“Her and your Dad are both stuck because of the storm. They can’t come back just yet so you’re gonna stay with us tonight, okay?”

“'Kay,” she nodded, pushing her increasingly wild hair out of her eyes.

“Just need to wait for Seb, then we can get home and out of this crazy weather.”

As the three of them stood waiting for the Year 3's to come out, another, even stronger, gust of wind nearly sent Eve flying to one side; Robert snagging her by the hood of her coat was the only thing that stopped her from tumbling to the ground.

“Right.” He grabbed her securely by the waist and picked her up. “Think I’d better hold onto you before you actually blow away, missy.”

“Wish Seb’d hurry up,” she mumbled, pulling her hood up and tucking her face into Robert’s neck, out of the stinging rain.

“Don’t we all?”

As much as Aaron adored his son, he was a notorious dawdler, always chatting to his teacher or messing around with his mates on his way outside. He’d take the rest of the afternoon to reach the school gates if he could.

Eventually, Seb made his way to the yard, surrounded by his usual gaggle of classmates. Any inclination he’d had to keep chatting to them was swiftly curbed by Aaron’s firm get over here now gesture. He jogged over sheepishly, cramming a beanie on top of his head.

“You get lost or summat?” Aaron rolled his eyes fondly, taking his PE kit from him.

“I went to check if my art project was dry and – ”

“Yep, lovely, you can tell us all about it on the way home,” Robert grumbled, wrapping his free hand around Seb’s shoulder and ushering him towards the car. “We need to get inside before this storm kicks off properly.”

They all clambered in and set off, Robert navigating the usual school run traffic with practiced ease.

“Dad?” Seb asked after a few minutes of driving.

“Hm?”

“Miss Brooks told us this is gonna be the biggest storm Yorkshire’s had in more than 20 years,” he said, wide-eyed. “The biggest since 2003. Was that one really massive?”

“It was, I remember it,” Robert nodded, flicking the windscreen wipers to faster setting. “New Year’s Eve. It put a massive hole in the pub roof n’all.”

“My pub?” Eve chimed in, eyes turning even bigger than Seb’s.

“Yep, it caved right in. I didn’t see it happen though; I was living on the farm, and I had to help my dad get all the animals inside so they’d be safe.”

“Woah.” Seb sounded so impressed, Robert didn’t have the heart to mention that someone had unfortunately died as a result of said hole in the roof.

“2003. That's so long ago,” Eve mused, fingertips following the paths of rainwater sliding down the window. “Years and years and – ”

“Yes, okay,” Robert said loudly. “I feel ancient now, thanks for that.”

Eve and Seb just laughed, like the demon spawn they both were.

“Do you remember the storm too, Dad?” Seb asked, a hand over his mouth failing to suppress the grin on his face.

“Nah, I wasn’t living in the village then,” Aaron smirked. “Was a bit before my time, I’m a lot younger than Old Man Sugden over here.”

“How old are you, Rob?”

“50,” Seb said with a snort.

“100!”

“150!"

“Kids, come on, he’s not a day over 72,” Aaron drawled, only to yelp when Robert briefly took a hand off the steering wheel to swipe at him, which only made the backseat passengers cackle even harder.

The laughter was suddenly cut short, however, when a wayward tree branch hit the bonnet with a loud bang, before bouncing off onto the road.

“Jesus!” Robert jerked the car in surprise, before quickly regaining control and continuing down the road in silence, hands gripping the wheel tightly.

Aaron glanced back to see both Seb and Eve’s smiles had been replaced with slightly nervous looks, Eve biting her bottom lip anxiously.

“It’s okay.” He quickly reached a hand back to pat her knee reassuringly. “It was just a tiny branch, practically a twig, nothing to worry about. We’ll be home soon.”

By the time they arrived in the village, the rain was lashing down, pelting the roof of the car so loudly they struggled to hear themselves talk. There was hardly anyone outside, and the few that were looked like they were quickly retreating indoors. They passed Leyla leaving her office with her head down, tottering unsteadily on her stiletto heels, and David and Jacob quickly pulling potted plants and buckets of umbrellas back into the safety of the shop.

As they pulled onto the drive, the ominous first sounds of thunder could be heard rumbling overhead.

“Okay, inside, go go go!”

The four of them scrambled out of the car and dashed towards the house, Robert fumbling with the keys to unlock the door.

“In your own time,” Aaron grouched, hunching over to shield the kids from the worst of it as best he could.

“Hang on, I can’t feel my bloody fingers.”

Eventually, he managed to get the key in the lock and they burst into the warmth of the house, already drenched in the brief minute it had taken to get inside.

“C-cold,” Seb shivered, peeling off his sodden hat and jacket and dropping them on the rug.

“So cold you forgot how to use a coat peg?” Robert said exasperatedly, picking it up. “Why don’t you two go upstairs and have a couple of nice, hot showers while I get tea started? Eve, you can use our mine and Aaron's bathroom, if you want? Aaron’ll help you turn the taps on.”

“Can I use your fancy shower gel?”

Robert sighed and ruffled her damp hair. “If you must.”

Eve grinned and began to follow Seb up the stairs, only to freeze at a flash of lightning.

“The storm won’t put a hole in this roof, will it?”

“You think Robert would let that happen?” Aaron smiled at her. “Nah, we built our place to be extra strong,” 

“Storm-proof, even,” Robert added from the kitchen.

“See? We’re safe as houses in here, I promise. Go on upstairs, I’ll be there in a minute, yeah?”

Seemingly satisfied, Eve nodded and carried on up the stairs. They heard the sound of her feet running along the landing, presumably to what was unofficially dubbed as “her room”, since she spent so much time in it, before the door gently clicked shut.

“What’s for tea?” Aaron sighed, padding over to the kitchen and hooking his chin over Robert’s shoulder.

Robert hummed and leaned back against his chest while he chopped some veg. “Shepherd’s pie, should warm the kids up.”

“So domestic, you,” Aaron grinned, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “I just hope the power doesn’t go out tonight.”

“Me too, otherwise we’ll have to keep them entertained the old-fashioned way.”

“What’s the old-fashioned way?”

“Er… how good are you at shadow puppets?”

A minute later, Seb came downstairs to find his dad frantically plugging every laptop and tablet into its charger.

[zigsexual]

Pls post the trr hogwarts au. I didn’t know that I wanted this in my life but I need it. I love your writing. 💕

thank you so much!!!💞 just for you, breakfast antics in the great hall

“Stop staring at him,” Maxwell whispers, elbowing Drake in the ribs. “You’re so embarrassing.”

Drake elbows him back, frowning into his food. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Should I call him over?” Maxwell grins. Drake shoots him the deadliest look he has, but it’s no match for Maxwell’s self destructive streak. He sits up on his knees, waving one hand in the air. “Liam! Hey, Liam!”

“I will fucking hex your entire family,” Drake seethes, grabbing at the edge of his sleeve in an effort to yank him back down. All he manages to create is a scuffle that lasts approximately until Riley plops down across from them at the table and sighs. “Oh, Christ, you two. Not today.”

“Maxwell started it,” Drake huffs, crossing his arms and scowling in Maxwell’s direction. He’s returned to his food, dramatically buttering a breakfast roll in the way only he can.

“False,” He points at Drake with the butter knife. “You started it by being in love with that Ravenclaw.”

“I am not —“

“Wait! That reminds me.” Riley looks smug, leaning towards Maxwell with her chin in her hands, elbows on the table in direct violation of dining hall etiquette. “Guess what we found out? Hot Prefect is staying for holiday.” 

Maxwell pauses, the roll halfway to his mouth. “No way. Does Drake know?”

“I’m right here,” Drake complains, “And for fuck’s sake, stop calling him that.”

“It’s an accurate descriptor,” Riley shrugs, leaning back and flicking her hair over her shoulder. “He’s hot, and he’s a prefect. Not everything’s about you, Princess.”

Maxwell still has his gaze trained on Riley. “You think he’s hot?”

“Um, duh.” She makes a face at him. “He is. Are you blind?”

“I just didn’t know you thought that.” Maxwell seems to have forgotten his roll entirely now. “That’s your type? Goody two shoes?”

Riley raises an eyebrow. “That’s rich, coming from you. Care to remind me who you went on a date with yesterday?”

“It wasn’t a date —“

“It was two people alone in a pub together, what kind of world do you live in where that doesn’t qualify as —“

“We weren’t alone, everybody else was there, even you were there, which is weird in the first place because —“

“Are you gonna eat that?” Drake interrupts, pointing towards Maxwell’s forgotten food. 

“What?” Maxwell turns back towards Drake, then looks down at his plate. “Yes. Don’t touch my food.”

Drake reaches across and takes his roll, biting into it without breaking eye contact. 

Maxwell stares at him for a moment, then pulls out his wand. “Accio bread!”

“Maxwell,” Riley looks horrified, “What the fuck are you doing? That’s not even —“

A girl at the other side of the table lets out a tiny shriek as a whole basket of rolls lifts up and soars towards them at a speed no food should ever travel at. Both Drake and Maxwell duck as it careens overhead, peeking over the table in time to see it collide with the side of Riley’s face before tumbling unceremoniously onto the floor. 

“Max!” Riley seethes, grabbing at her wand with a flash in her eyes. But before she can even open her mouth to cast a spell, one of the supervising professors appears behind her and deftly plucks the object from her hands. 

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” He announces, scowling at her and Maxwell. “And I’ll make that twenty if I see any more nonsense from either of you today.”

A groan rises up from the rest of the table, the other students looking on in annoyance as the professor sets Riley’s wand in front of her and begins walking away. 

“Nice going Brooks, you fuckup,” someone mutters.

Maxwell twists in his seat to find the offending speaker, sitting up on his knees once he’s spotted him. “Hey! Don’t talk to her like that, or next match I’m hitting a bludger right up your ass, Rashad — house loyalty be damned.”

“Beaumont,” the professor’s voice snaps, still within earshot. “Watch yourself.”

Maxwell sits down, flashing an innocent smile. “Watching, sir.”

And watch they do, making sure all authority figures are firmly out of their sphere of influence before they start up again. Drake takes the opportunity to finish off Maxwell’s roll. 

“Thanks for the defense,” Riley finally says, once the coast is clear. “But you know I’m perfectly capable of hitting my own bludgers.”

Maxwell nods. “Oh, I’d never insult your prowess on the field. I just really hate that guy.”

“You know,” Drake remarks, “if either of you spent as much time deflecting the bludgers as you do purposefully aiming them, I might not have to spend so much time in the infirmary. Just food for thought.”

“Or maybe you could just get better at Quidditch,” Riley smiles, plucking a piece of bacon off his plate and eating it. “What a concept.”

[hinsdalebar]

Top 5 Best Bars In Hinsdale

Going to Hinsdale means you're already in for a good time - and that also includes its vibrant nightlife! Whether you love fun and crowded clubs where you can show off your dance moves, sports bars for quality viewing and drinking experience while rooting for your favorite team, or low-key pubs with really good drinks and a cool vibe, Hinsdale has one-of-a-kind local bars to go with your tastes.

Here are the five best bars you can check out on your next visit to Hinsdale:

Vistro (630) 537-1459

Nothing perfects your Hinsdale trip like Vistro! This bar is Casual place serving a wide-ranging American menu (pizza, steak & more) plus cocktails & mocktails, showing off signature drinks, sumptuous varieties of bar foods, and warm and friendly locals anyone can get along with. Come by at 112 S Washington St, Hinsdale, IL 60521 for a Hinsdale experience you just can't miss.

https://goo.gl/maps/3uKSUbChKucKDzxH7

York Tavern (630) 323-5090

Frequent patrons and stoked tourists have been coming down to York Tavern for many years, enjoying its familiar and welcoming ambience-- as well as its great variety of drinks, of course! Situated in the heart of Hinsdale at 3702 York Rd, Oak Brook, IL 60523, it offers you the special feel of Hinsdale life while making you feel as though you're among long-time buddies.

https://goo.gl/maps/LomzjgUTyPTbHkrY9

Grill 89 (630) 570-5889

With cool music, savory bites, good beer, and freshly-made cocktails, Grill 89 is Hinsdale's hidden gem! This bar is a Modern takes on American grill fare served in rustic, family-friendly surrounds with a bar & TVs. Drop by Grill 89 at 800 E Ogden Ave, Westmont, IL 60559 for a good ol' time during your vacation. There's no better place to take it easy and let your hair down!

https://goo.gl/maps/bqiPuE4DUCcNxSoH7

Wolfs Head Restaurant & Bar (708) 246-0400

The party spirit is alive and well in Wolfs Head Restaurant & Bar! One of Hinsdale's most dynamic spots, this bar is Old-fashioned restaurant offering prime rib & other traditional American meals in a relaxed setting. For live performances from local music acts or even acclaimed guests, exclusive events, and amazing drinks for all sorts of tastes, swing by 6937 Joliet Rd, Indian Head Park, IL 60525!

https://goo.gl/maps/6QqdnVyfAfSMyhAM9

Hillgrove Tap (708) 290-0055

Nothing perfects your Hinsdale trip like Hillgrove Tap! This bar is Popular, modern tavern offering a wide range of craft brews on tap, American eats & outdoor seating , providing trademark drinks, scrumptious varieties of bar foods, and warm and friendly locals anyone can get along with. Drop by at 800 Hillgrove Ave, Western Springs, IL 60558 for a Hinsdale experience you just can't miss out on.

https://goo.gl/maps/B9P8hcWoTisd8VaE8

Nothing captures the spirit and story of Hinsdale like its local bars. So make your upcoming experience exceptional by coming by and enjoying the good food, great drinks, and new friends - giving you anecdotes from Hinsdale that you'll be talking about for a lifetime!

Click here to find out more about the best places to stay whilst visiting Hinsdale IL.

Driving Directions

[msjr0119]

Love, Fate, Destiny

Introduction

New series- I just can’t help myself, I’ve missed Drake too much! Sad I know 😜- Enjoy! (DRAKE X RILEY)

Riley Brooks is a waitress in a ‘Dive bar” in New York. One Saturday night, her past comes back to haunt her as some unfamiliar punters enter her bar on a bachelor party- one of them being someone who she was once close to.

*CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY*

**SOME QUOTES ARE FROM TRR BOOK 1 - CHAPTER 1**

Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @kingliam2019 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @choices97 @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415

******

Riley and Daniel had nearly finished a busy shift at the dive bar. Every weekend they worked on the same shift- their manager nicknamed them double trouble, he would always scold them for the littlest things. The bar was always full of the local punters- once they’d either passed out or moved on from the pub crawl, it always became quieter towards the end of the night. When this happened, Riley and Daniel could relax more. They would clean the bar and do the usual jobs, so that when closing time occurred they could sprint out of the shit hole.

They had both taken the trash out, keeping each other company- scared of the rats that would linger around like a bad smell.

“Just another glamorous New York Saturday night of hauling trash to the dumpster” - Riley muttered to her co-work with a lack of enthusiasm. Riley had attended college and completed her degree but lacked qualifications to gain a decent job. She was a hard worker- determined to put her mind to anything and had hoped in the future to excel her skills to improve her career.

“It could be worse. There could be- rats! Riley, help!” Daniel screeched. Riley rolled her eyes back exasperated at how pathetic her friend was.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this adorable little mouse family. They’re just trying to get by, just like us...” Daniel nodded in agreement. It was expensive to live in the Big Apple- every payday their wages would disappear in a flash.

“Hey! Riley, Daniel, quit slacking over there!” Their manager’s bellowed voice echoed, making them both jump out of their skin. Riley was tempted at times to stab him with the way he treat his workers- they were mugs always committed to working overtime.

It was Riley’s turn to lock up tonight, as Daniel had a date with Riley’s school friend Lola. She had hoped to get off early tonight, to return to her flat wearing pajamas, drinking wine, watching reality tv- to not have a care in the world. As Daniel left, a bachelor party entered.

Great- she whispered to herself. It was now time to place an Oscar winning smile on her face.

She headed over to the table where two smart men sat- boring bachelor party, poor bastard must not have many friends ,she thought.

“Hello, gentlemen. I’ll be taking care of you this evening.”

“Waitress, steaks for the table.”

“How about some filet mignon medium rare and prepared with a béarnaise sauce?”

“The closest thing we have to filet mignon is the deluxe burger.”

“Dare I asked for the wine menu?”

“We’ve got an excellent vintage house red.”

“House red?”

“It also comes in white.”

“We’ll be fine with a bottle of whiskey... and four deluxe burgers.”

Riley’s confident stance now became frozen. That voice. It sounded too familiar, no it can’t be- she began to panic. There are plenty of men that would have a strong husky voice- but that twang Of Texan accent? Swallowing hard, her eyebrows now furrowed- she slowly turned around. Biting her lip, her baby blues fixated on his earthy brown eyes. Shock. Sadness. All emotions stabbing her in the heart.

“Brooks? Did you hear me? Long time, no see.”

“Yeah, I heard ya Walker!”

Before he could respond, she turned to the other two gentlemen, forming that fake smile again.

“Four burgers?” Riley asked the younger, outgoing man.

“Yeah, there’s four of us. Me, Tariq, Drake and Liam. How do you know Drake?” Maxwell didn’t have any filter, at times he could ask inappropriate questions not understanding why people thought they weren’t appropriate. This was one of those questions.

“It doesn’t matter Sir, I’ll put your order in and be right back.”

Drake witnessed that his old friend was trying to be professional, but he could also see that she was shaken by his presence. Guilt ran through his body, his heart began to pound. Natural instinct made him place a hand on her shoulder- not knowing how she would react with his touch.

“Drake! Don’t ever touch me again!”

Riley turned around in a panic, and fell into some strong arms who caught her immediately. His soft touch made Riley’s heart flutter.

“Are you okay?” The soft but yet posh European accent asked her.

“Er Yeah. I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed that Drake Walker had made her weak at her knees again - not being able to complete the simple tasks such as walking in a straight line.

“Sorry I’m late guys, I couldn’t miss that phone call. Thank you for your patience miss...?”

“Uh, Riley.”

“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Riley.”

“Trust me the pleasures all mine. It’s nice to meet you. Now just let me put your order in. Be right back!”

Riley repeated what she had said to the gentlemen before- using the ‘order’ as an excuse to remove herself from the awkward position that had arisen. She wished that Daniel didn’t have a date tonight- tonight of all nights. Hiding inside the kitchen to avoid the gazes from the other men, her ears began to burn and she overheard them whispering. Paranoia slowly sunk in. Two more hours to go- she began to wish that time would disappear- constantly checking the clock wasn’t helping the matter.

****

“The waitress is hot!” Maxwell exclaimed. Again no filter.

“Ahem. Her name is Riley and I doubt she appreciates you talking about her like that.”

“Right. Sorry Liam. But still...”

Maxwell witnessed that Drake was in his own oblivion, unaware of his friends conversation that was happening in front of him.

“Drake? How do you know Riley?” Maxwell was eager to find out the gossip, whilst Tariq suggested the obvious.

“Well she seemed shocked to see him. Don’t you think?”

“Drake? Are you okay brother?” Liam looked concerned at his friend, who’s gaze was stuck towards the bar. Usually he was sulking but would still partake in conversations. Liam slightly nudged him to wake him up from his trance.

“Er. Yeah. Sorry Li.”

“Drake what’s up? You know her?”

“Yeah. I... I.. I’m just going to get some fresh air.”

The three men watched him head outside, not knowing what was going off between him and Riley. They realised the reason for him exiting the table so abruptly was due to her, as Riley brought their food over.

“Is everything okay with your food?”

“Oh my god! Yes! This is amazzinggg..”

“Glad to hear it. I’ll leave you all alone.”

“Wait! Before you go... please tell me how you know Drake. These two will cover their ears if you want them to.”

Maxwell cheekily grinned at Riley before changing his expression. Puppy dog eyes formed as well as a pet lip. Riley rolled her eyes back- this was the usual expression for her. Taking a huge deep breath, she couldn’t resist those puppy dog dogs.

“I was 17 and he was 19. We had a mutual friend- that’s all. Happy now Sir?”

“Yes, thank you Lady Riley.” Riley nodded politely looking confused with her ‘nickname’, shaking the thought away she walked back over to the bar, wishing that Drake would return and finish their food and leave.

Liam’s mind was wondering. After hearing Riley mention the ages of when she and Drake had met- it finally made sense. It was her- the girl who Drake had fallen in love with before having to return to Cordonia. There was an assassin attempt on the Palace, Leo used the royal jet to beg Drake to come back. He returned, and never completed his degree. Liam had always believed that Drake was melancholy due to not completing college. Drake had often mentioned about a girl who he had met, it was a complicated relationship. But every time she was mentioned his friend couldn’t contain his smile. Drake eventually returned to the table, picking at his food- he informed the men that he was ready to leave. They all agreed with him, Liam encouraged him to talk to Riley after his revelation.

“I know who she is Drake. Leo shouldn’t have dragged you away from her.”

“Cordonia is my home Li, you needed me more.”

“Drake, just talk to her. Gain some closure. We will meet you back at the hotel.”

Drake was hesitant, but he knew he couldn’t refuse the Crown Prince’s encouragement. One way or another Liam always got his own way and Drake was petrified that Liam would become involved and interfere. Gulping the last bit of whiskey for dutch courage, he slowly walked up to the bar- clammy hands providing a moist feeling in his pockets.

“Hey.” Drake managed to speak one word. He couldn’t string a sentence together. He had forgotten how beautiful she was, she had always made him weak at the knees.

“Hi.” Riley responded, her tone of voice mixed with sadness and harshness.

“Erm, thanks for tonight.... it’s been really good to see you again. You look well.”

Riley just nodded, not acknowledging his gaze fixated at her. Keeping herself busy cleaning the last remaining glasses, she just wished that this awkwardness didn’t exist. Drake gulped, he knew how stubborn she was and if they were going to have a conversation consisting of more than a single word - he would need to attempt to carry it on.

“So, Daniel looked well too. I heard he’s dating Lola now.”

“Yes.”

“Riley. Talk to me, please.”

Riley- Drake never used her first name. The only times he used it was if he was deadly serious about something. He always called her by her surname as a defence mechanism to not show how he truly felt about her.

“I don’t want to talk to you Drake. Please respect my wishes. Go back to Cor- whatever it’s called.”

“It’s Cordonia. And Liam who you met before- he’s the Crown Prince of the country. He’s the reason I had to leave, you know that.”

“Is that the only reason Drake? Or was it a cover up to get you out of the shitstorm you caused?”

Riley’s eyebrows raised, arms folded- waiting for an explanation that was 7 years too late. Waiting impatiently, she noticed that he began to fidget. Not knowing how to tell her the truth, he didn’t know how this conversation would end. It would either end with closure or a slap to his face.

“You.. you know it is. But you also know the other reason.”

“Oh yes I know the other reason. I just wanted to hear it from the horses mouth!” Riley spat, not being arsed for games anymore.

“Ri, Lola cheated on me with Daniel. That didn’t bother me because I was in love with you, not her. You know that. I caused a rift between all of you- you have all known each other since childhood.”

“Funny way of loving someone. Making me trust you. Making me feel that I could be loved- I lost my virginity to you Drake for fuck sake. I kept it for someone special. Someone who I could see a future with. And you... you just up’d and left. What are you doing here anyway?”

Riley knew the whole history between them all was complicated, but once Lola had dumped him to begin a relationship with Daniel, she had given Riley her blessing to make a move on Drake. Lola knew that her and Drake was just lust. The more times they all hung out, Lola noticed how much closer she was to Daniel and that Drake and Riley had a magnet pulling them towards each other- but something always prevented them going any further than that one night. That something was Drake’s real life in his birth country.

“I’m glad you kept it for me... that night was so special, I felt like the luckiest bastard in the world having you in my arms. I’m so sorry. It was just fate, destiny. I didn’t know you both worked here. We just stumbled across it. I - Erm. We leave tomorrow afternoon. I’d like to see you before we leave.. if not it doesn’t matter. But it’s been good to see you Ri. Here’s my number if you want to text or something.”

Riley reached out for the number that was scribbled on a screwed up napkin. As their fingers brushed they both felt an electric shot- they way they both pulled away quicker than a cheetah sprinting, they both knew that the other felt it too.

“Goodnight Brooks.”

As the door shut, tears uncontrollably fell down her cheek, creating a puddle over the bar, she opened the napkin to input the number provided in her cell. There was his number and a note, could she return her heart to him again?

I’ve missed you. You look absolutely beautiful as usual Ri, I was a jerk for leaving you without a proper explanation. But you have to know, it was always you that was in my heart, I love you still. D x

[brookpub]

A Culinary Journey Through India: Regional Specialties at Gastropubs

Start an exciting trip through India's varied food scene, where traditional flavours meet modern twists in the lively atmosphere of gastropubs. India has a lot of different flavours that come from mixing different cultures over many years. These flavours come together perfectly in the creative meals of gastropubs all over the country. A Culinary Journey Through India from the spicy foods of the North to the tasty treats from the South's coast, each area has its own unique food experience that makes you want more. Let's look into the area specialties that are served at these restaurants that promise a trip you'll never forget.

Crafting the Perfect Indian Gastropub Menu

North India: Spice-infused Appetisers:

The trip through food starts in North India, where spices are king and each dish tells a story from the country's long history of cooking. The busy streets of Delhi and the royal lanes of Jaipur are home to gastropubs where customers are met with a variety of tasty treats. Enjoy classics like Butter Chicken, Rogan Josh, and Seekh Kebabs, which are all made with a symphony of spices that make your mouth dance. Enjoy these treats with a craft beer or a signature drink that was made to go with the hearty tastes of the North.

Indian Food at Gastro Pub

In South India:

Seaside Delights and Delights Bursting with Spice

When you go south, the food takes a nice turn as seaside flavours and fragrant spices take centre stage. Traditional South Indian food with a modern twist can be found in gastropubs in places like Bangalore and Chennai. You can enjoy the sour flavours of Coconut Curry Fish, the heat of Chettinad Chicken, or the comfortable warmth of Masala Dosa Rolls. Also, don't forget to try the wide variety of craft beers and new drinks that were made to make South Indian food taste even better.

East India:

Combinations of old and new tastes. There are a lot of delicious foods waiting for us in the eastern part of the country. People love Kolkata's gastropubs because they mix traditional Bengali flavours with new cooking methods. Try classics like Fish Cutlets, Kathi Rolls made in the style of Kolkata, and tangy Puchkas. Together with handcrafted cocktails made with local products and new takes on old favourites, the food at this restaurant honours East India's rich culinary history.

West India:

Street food extravaganzas and fusion feasts

Our food adventure ends in the lively streets of West India, where every bite is a celebration of creativity and flavour. The unique flavours of Maharashtra are mixed with flavours from around the world in Mumbai's gastropubs, which are a real treat for the senses. Enjoy tasty treats like Vada Pav Sliders, Pav Bhaji Fondue, and Tandoori Prawns made with spices from the coast. To go with your food, try a refreshing G&T made with local herbs or a craft beer that was inspired by the busy city.

In conclusion:

India's gastropubs are not only a feast for the eyes and ears, but also a celebration of the country's rich cultural and culinary history. From the spicy treats of North India to the coastal charms of the South, each part of the country has its own unique food experience that you will never forget. If you love traditional flavours or are looking for new ways to cook, India's gastropubs will give you an unforgettable dining experience that will tantalise your taste buds and ignite your desire for food. Don't forget to bring your taste buds with you on this journey through the many flavours of India. At Brook Indian Gastro Pub in Cambridge one can enjoy some of the best Traditional Indian food and drinks that complement each other.

[artificialqueens]

Royals 8/9: Is It Safe To Just Be Who We Are (Branjie)-athena2

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting on AQ, my submission didn’t go through the first time. Thank you all so much for your amazing comments. Each one really does mean a lot to me and keeps me going during rough writing patches. Please leave some feedback on this one, I really do appreciate it. Writ is the best beta I could ask for, and also they were ready to fight me after this one so I apologize in advance. Chapter title from Love song by Lana Del Rey.

*There is mild violence and blood*

—

All Vanessa sees when she closes her eyes is Brooke’s scared face running away from her.

Brooke had locked herself in her room after they danced and didn’t come out until dinner, and no matter how well she composed herself, Vanessa knew she had been crying. She talked to Vanessa at dinner like nothing happened, and Vanessa went along with it.

Her heart is breaking, not because Brooke doesn’t love her, but because Vanessa knows she does but can’t admit it. She knows from the way Brooke looks at her, the smiles no one but Vanessa sees, how Brooke lets herself be vulnerable around her. There’s a small patch of guilt in Vanessa’s mind for (almost) throwing her confession of love at Brooke when she knows damn well Brooke isn’t in a position to say it back, no matter how much Vanessa wishes Brooke could. She’s angry, not at Brooke, but at the world, at the circumstances, forcing them apart. Some wishes just can’t come true.

But Brooke fills her with the hope and joy of long, hot summers, and Vanessa dreams something can blossom. Brooke is a flower she wants to turn toward the sun and protect from the storm while she marvels at the beauty as she blooms and grows. She can’t tear her eyes away from Brooke when they’re together, can’t touch her hand or see her smile without feeling like she’s been struck by lightning.

She can’t even think about returning home and going back to a life without Brooke, and as the time until the wedding gets smaller, the hole in her chest gets bigger.

She buries the I love you she longs to say deep inside, having breakfast and lunch with Brooke and talking about anything she can think of to avoid the wedding, which takes its toll on Brooke as the days go by. There’s a grayish tinge to her skin and deep circles under her eyes. She stops smiling and only manages a few words while she picks at her food. She stares blankly into space during their conversations and sheepishly asks Vanessa to repeat herself. She’s losing more of Brooke each day, but there’s nothing she can do.

—-

“My parents said I probably have to start thinking of an engagement when we get home,” Vanessa admits over breakfast one morning, unable to keep the horror inside anymore and seeking the one person who can understand.

“I’m so sorry.” Brooke reaches her hand out and Vanessa takes it to keep herself together.

“I know there isn’t much I can do, but I’m going to try to get out of it.” She bites her lip, forcing the tears to stay in.

The sheer intensity of her relationship with Brooke slams into her as she confesses this. In just a few weeks, she has given Brooke more of herself than she’s let anyone see in over a year, and she suspects the same is true of Brooke. But with Beatrice, where the more Vanessa gave, the smaller she became, Vanessa only feels stronger the more she shares with Brooke.

“You should try,” Brooke agrees. “Don’t…” she pauses, and for a second she thinks Brooke is going to warn Vanessa not to be like her, but the words Brooke does say break her heart even more.

“Don’t let yourself have anything less than the happiness and love you deserve,” Brooke states.

Vanessa can’t hold back the tears anymore, because it’s all so unfair. Brooke is telling Vanessa that she deserves more when Brooke deserves more too and won’t let herself believe it because it would only make everything hurt worse. Brooke just places a soft hand on her shoulder and lets her cry.

—-

Despite all her fantasies that it wouldn’t arrive, it’s the day before the wedding, and Vanessa’s trying not to think of how this is her last breakfast with Brooke when she leaves her room.

But the thought flies out of her mind when she sees two tall figures going down the stairs. The hoods of their cloaks are up, and she can’t identify their voices. There shouldn’t be anyone here; her and Brooke are the only ones in their wing of the castle (her heart lifts every time she calls it theirs), and Vanessa can’t resist the curiosity. She sneaks after them, holding her breath a few stairs behind.

“I hear he’s the best marksman in the country,” the first man says.

Marksman? What are they talking about? She creeps down a few more steps, unable to stop now.

“That’s what I heard,” agrees the second. “I’m not sure how much I trust his word, of course, to be bragging about it in public.”

Bragging about what? They’re almost at the bottom of the stairs, and she won’t be able to follow much longer. But they’re talking about a marksman, and why would they talk about that if something dangerous isn’t involved?

“Not really bragging,” the first man corrects. “Just been telling some of us pub regulars about his plans for the Ice Princess.”

Brooke. A shiver runs down her spine and blood pounds in her ears. Something is going to happen to Brooke, and from this discussion, it can’t be good. Can she believe them, though? She’s learned to be suspicious over the past year, to question everything she hears and sees. But can she take that chance if–her heart clenches–something might happen to Brooke?

“I’m afraid I’m not privy to pub secrets. Care to enlighten me?” the second man asks.

“Well,” the first man whispers, “He’s been saying he’s got an arrow with the Ice Princess’ name on it as a wedding gift.”

A cold wave washes over Vanessa, her heart racing so fast it might pop out of her chest, as the men head into the hallway. Her hand slams against the wall to steady herself. Someone is going to kill Brooke.

But she has to consider the facts first, with a wariness now ingrained in her. She doesn’t have any idea who these men are, or if they can be believed. And surely someone planning a murder wouldn’t tell people about it.

But.

It’s Brooke.

Her Brooke, who gets her candy everyday and watches eagerly to see if she likes it. Who asks every morning if Vanessa is warm enough and lets Vanessa borrow her scarf. Who allows Vanessa to see underneath the layers of polish and perfection she wears to protect herself against her parents’ expectations. Who makes Vanessa feel the first honest love she’s experienced.

Even if this is fake, it has to be better to be cautious. Vanessa knows the king and queen aren’t overly affectionate toward Brooke–or even kind to her–but they wouldn’t really take a chance on their daughter’s safety, would they? She has to tell them. She’s not willing to stay silent on the chance this is fake, not when Brooke–her entire heart–is at risk.

She sprints to her parents’ room. “Get the king and queen. We need to have a meeting now.”

—-

“Now, let me see if I’m hearing this correctly,” the king states with deep annoyance. “You’re claiming you overheard two people–people you cannot identify–stating that they heard a person make a threat towards Brooke at the wedding? And they said the person made this threat in a public place?” He looks at her with such scorn, poking holes in her story so effortlessly, that Vanessa finds herself doubting it for a second. But she knows what she heard.

“I realize there’s not a lot of evidence,” she concedes, “But I believe it’s true. I think someone is going to go after Brooke tomorrow.”

Brooke sits next to Thomas. She hasn’t said a word, her mask firmly in place, so seamless not even Vanessa can tell what she’s feeling.

Thomas speaks up with a smirk, “Rather convenient of you to hear such a story the day before the wedding. Jealous of all the attention Brooke’s receiving, perhaps? Not to mention it’s quite a poorly-conceived story at that. One might wonder if you were planning something yourself.”

The blood rushes to her face. “What are you–”

“That’s quite an accusation,” Vanessa’s mother interjects. “Surely you’re not insinuating my daughter is planning to attack Brooke tomorrow?”

“That is a serious allegation,” King Richard agrees. “Do you have evidence for this claim, Thomas?”

Thomas smiles charmingly, waving his hands in innocence. Vanessa has to grab the table to keep from throwing herself at him.

“Please don’t think I’m insinuating anything,” he begins. “I’m not accusing Vanessa by any means. I was merely stating that bringing up a murder plot is an excellent way to cover one’s own.”

“It sounds like you’re accusing me of murder!” Vanessa delights in the slam of her fist on the table, consequences not even a thought now.

The king pipes up again, “I think–”

“Father, I-I believe her.” The small voice silences the yelling.

Everyone turns to the source, Brooke’s cheeks flaming red.

“Brooke–”

“Please, I think you should listen to her.” Brooke says, a bit louder this time.

Vanessa can’t even imagine what it’s costing Brooke to stand up to her father like this, how much courage she has within her. I’m not getting in trouble for you, Brooke had said their first day, and here she is risking trouble and more to defend Vanessa. Even though Brooke can’t say the words, this is the greatest declaration of love she could offer, and Vanessa would cry if it wouldn’t make Thomas paint her as hysterical.

King Richard stands as he opens his mouth, and Vanessa knows whatever comes out will be bad. “You will listen to me, Brooke. I know you had your reservations about the wedding, but supporting this fake murder plot…I won’t stand for this.” He motions to his guards. “Take the princess to her room and stand guard outside. I’d like her kept there until tomorrow for her safety.”

He sighs, and Vanessa understands that this is less about Brooke’s safety and more about locking her away so she doesn’t cause any trouble, the whole command tingling with implications that he wants Brooke away from her. How could Vanessa have thought the king would believe her? He’s more concerned about them questioning his authority than he is about something happening to his own daughter.

The two head guards appear on either side of Brooke, who is unnaturally small next to their hulking armor. She glances over at Vanessa with such sorrow and regret that her heart shatters into pieces as Brooke is led out of the room without a sound.

“I think that’s best for her safety,” Thomas agrees. “Resting for the day will be good for her too. She hasn’t been sleeping well lately. Too much excitement for her, if you ask me. I’d hate for her to get ill right before the wedding.”

She hasn’t been sleeping well because of you! Vanessa clamps down on her lip to hold in the scream.

The meeting is dismissed, and she follows numbly after her parents, her heart already having left the room.

—-

“You believe me, don’t you?” Vanessa asks her parents as soon as she’s inside their room. She doesn’t know if she can possibly take this if even her own parents think she’s making it up.

“Of course we do. We know you wouldn’t lie about something like that.” her mother soothes her worries, brushing her hair off her face.

“But this isn’t our kingdom, and we can’t do anything here,” her father adds. “The decisions are with the king and queen.”

“But something’s going to happen to Brooke and no one even cares! She’s going to get hurt, or-or…” the rest is too terrible to speak.

“Vanessa, what’s bringing this on? Why are you so upset? I know she’s your friend, but…” her mother trails off in concern and Vanessa discovers that she’s crying, thick tears rolling down her face.

Some of her tears are fueled by anger, because this whole day lies in ruins at her feet. She was supposed to have breakfast with Brooke, and Vanessa was going to give Brooke her flowered bracelet so Brooke had something to remember her by, but now the king thinks Vanessa’s making false threats and Brooke is locked away and Vanessa will be lucky if she gets to say goodbye.

“Because I love her,” she breathes. That wasn’t supposed to happen like this, either; she certainly wasn’t going to tell her parents here, if she ever mustered up the courage to tell them at all. But the whole day is an avalanche, and she’s stuck in its path as all her plans are dismantled and every emotion in her swirls around helplessly.

“I love her,” she repeats. “And I don’t want to marry some prince, because I’ll never love anyone but her.”

Their eyes stare straight through her and she shivers in the silence. Is this how Brooke feels all the time when people look at her? “Please say something,” she begs.

“You’ve been so happy lately, and I had a feeling that was why.” Her mother smiles and Vanessa’s knees buckle from relief, dropping her into a plush chair. “If you love her, that’s who you love,” her mother states. “You don’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to.”

She lets herself be pulled into her mother’s arms and cries until there’s nothing left in her but the burning desire to see Brooke.

—-

Her first stop is the kitchen, in desperate hope that Nina can help somehow.

“Did you hear?” she asks without greeting. “Brooke is locked in her room until tomorrow.”

“I heard.” Nina nods seriously.

“It’s so unfair. I’m the one that told him and he took it out on her. And now everyone thinks I’m lying.”

“The king hasn’t always made the best decisions when it comes to Brooke,” Nina admits, voice hushed.

“That’s an understatement.”

Nina purses her lips. “Take this.” A warm package tumbles into Vanessa’s hand. “It’s a honey cake. They’re Brooke’s favorite.” Nina’s expression is soft and tender, radiating real compassion for Brooke, and Vanessa recalls Brooke saying that Nina was more of a parent to her than the king and queen.

“What about the guards?” Vanessa asks.

“Just tell them I sent you. They won’t question me,” Nina says confidently.

“Thank you.”

“Vanessa,” Nina begins, tone serious, “This gets you to Brooke’s door. If there’s something you’d like to say to her, now might be your best chance.”

Vanessa looks into Nina’s eyes, deep with knowing. Nina’s watched over Brooke her whole life, after all, and Vanessa isn’t surprised she’s figured it out.

“Thank you, Nina. Really.”

Nina nods, and Vanessa can tell she has more to say.

“Vanessa?”

“Yes?”

Nina steps closer. “Brooke was such a happy child. Always very quiet, but happy. She loved watching the birds and rabbits and helping me in the kitchen. Then her princess duties and lessons hit hard, and it’s like the joy just left her, bit by bit. Vanessa, the way Brooke is with you…I haven’t seen her smile so much in years. It’s like you brought some joy back to her.” She sighs. “I wish things could be different.”

Nina doesn’t elaborate any further, but Vanessa knows exactly what she means.

“You and me both, Nina.”

—-

Nina’s name is enough to get Vanessa past the guards, but then it’s just her and the door and she wants to throw up. What is she going to say? What if Brooke didn’t want to talk to Vanessa after her outburst got Brooke locked in her room?

“Brooke?” She knocks softly. “Brooke, it’s me.”

A few seconds later, long, pale fingers peek out from under the door, a hoarse voice greeting her.

Has Brooke been crying? Is she scared of what might happen tomorrow? Vanessa wants to bust the door apart and pull Brooke into a hug, tell her everything will be fine even if she can’t believe it herself.

“Are you all right?” Vanessa asks. She touches the tips of her fingers to Brooke’s to prove that she’s there, the act calming her despite what she’s about to do. She presses her cheek against the cool door and pictures Brooke doing the same on the other side, long legs folded up, their love leaving imprints on both sides of the wooden barrier. Mere inches of polished oak separate them but it might as well be a whole country.

“Yes. I’m sorry about earlier, with my father. I should’ve done more, I–”

“Don’t worry about it. There was nothing you could have done.” Vanessa tucks her bracelet inside the wrapping on the cake in case she doesn’t get another chance. She positions the package under the door and pushes it through. “The cake is from Nina, if you get hungry. The other thing is from me,” she explains, and she hopes Brooke is smiling on the other side.

“Thank you.”

Vanessa takes a breath and fixes her hair, grateful at least Brooke can’t see how red her face is. “I need to tell you something. You don’t have to say anything, I just want you to hear it. Brooke, I…after everything, I gave up on thinking I would ever love someone again. But you proved me wrong. I love you, and I know we’ll be apart, but I won’t ever stop loving you, and I’m going to do everything I can to keep seeing you because I won’t–I can’t–lose you, Brooke.”

Her eyes are damp when she’s done, and the silence on the other side of the door is deafening.

“Vanessa?” Brooke asks just when Vanessa is ready to give up.

“Yes?”

“I-I love you too. I–”

“That’s enough time with the princess. Thomas says she needs her rest,” a gruff voice says, one of the guards forcing her up off the floor. She can hear Brooke calling for her, voice building with worry, fists pounding on the door, as the guard leads her to her room.

Vanessa slams her door shut, and the day passes from morning to night as she lays in bed, a cloud hanging over her like she’s waiting for the end of the world. She doesn’t move, doesn’t think she could if she wanted to. She lies and says she’s ill to avoid going to dinner, to avoid having to put on a smile and talk politely when she wants to shove Thomas out the window and run him over with a horse for good measure. It isn’t even a lie, because her stomach churns like the sea in a storm and her limbs are leaden and everything hurts the way it does during an illness.

At some point the night blurs into sleep, only to be haunted by dreams where an arrow flies into Brooke’s heart, the point bursting through her pale skin and blood trickling from the wound as she mouths I love you.

But no matter how many times it loops through Vanessa’s mind, tearing cries from her throat, she can’t see who’s wielding the bow.

—-

Vanessa is awake when A’keria and Silky pound on her door early the next morning, having refused to go back to sleep when she woke up crying after one of the endless dreams. Staying awake was the only way she could keep Brooke alive in her mind.

She’s in a daze as her hair is twisted into ornate braids and her limbs are pushed through the red fabric of her dress, the jewels and fabrics stitching her back up after yesterday tore her heart out, holding her together after she fell apart as Brooke’s blood stained her dreams last night.

“Hurry up!” A’keria urges, handing Vanessa her shoes.

“What’s the rush? The wedding’s still two hours away.” If only there was some way she could stop time and live out an entire life with Brooke before those two hours are up.

“We talked to Plastique and got you five minutes with Brooke. Face-to-face.” Silky brags.

Vanessa almost tumbles over her own feet as she runs to the hall. Plastique is outside Brooke’s room, motioning for her to hurry inside. She slips past Plastique with a grateful nod and then it’s just her and Brooke and she can’t breathe.

Brooke is staring out the window, cats on the seat beside her. A white dress flows down her tall frame, snowflakes embroidered into the top half and tiny pearls stitched all over the bottom half, reflecting the sunlight. Her blonde hair waves loosely around her shoulders, small strands pulled back and braided.

“Brooke?” Vanessa chokes out.

Brooke turns around and Vanessa is overtaken by her, heart skipping a beat before resuming its rhythm. Plastique did an excellent job with the concealer, but Vanessa takes one look into Brooke’s eyes and knows she didn’t get a second of sleep last night. Her gaze drops to Brooke’s hands and she almost melts at her bracelet resting there, bright against Brooke’s skin.

“Are you really here?” Brooke asks, voice cracking. “I don’t think even my mind is cruel enough to dream you up.”

“I’m here. It’s really me, I promise.”

Brooke throws her arms around Vanessa with a bone-crushing grip Vanessa suspects is to keep herself upright.

“I’m not going to pretend this is anything other than terrible,” Vanessa says quietly, “But for what it’s worth, you do look beautiful. This whole thing, it’s just–”

“It could be worse.” She can tell Brooke is trying to convince herself of it, repeating it over and over to keep from falling into a despair that she can’t pull herself out of.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still terrible. There’s a lot of terrible things that could be worse, but they’re still terrible.”

“I know,” Brooke says softly.

It’s quiet and Vanessa burns with regret for dismantling the one thing keeping Brooke together. She wishes, more than anything, so fiercely her body aches with it, that she could give Brooke the love she deserves.

“I need to tell you something.” Brooke pulls away from the hug but keeps her hands on Vanessa’s forearms. “Vanessa, I didn’t think I would ever feel the kind of happiness I feel with you. And I’m so grateful I got to know you, and become your friend, and-and love you. I love you, Vanessa. I’ve known for a while, but I was too scared to admit it, to let myself love you. That’s why I ran away, and I’m sorry. But I’ll do my best to stay in contact with you, and I’ll visit, I promise. I will always love you and be there with you. Please don’t forget me.”

“Never. I could never forget you,” Vanessa sniffles. “I love you, and I always will, whatever happens. Just look at the sun and think of me, and I’m with you.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Brooke crosses over to her desk and pulls out a box. “I hope you like this. I know it can’t replace yours, but I thought you might like to have one again.”

Vanessa opens the box and gasps as her eyes well up with tears. A sun necklace smiles up at her, twinkling in the light. It’s not the exact one she had, but it’s even more special because this one is from Brooke, the only person who knows the truth, the only person who has seen all the parts she’s hidden and still loves her for them.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathes, unable to say anything else. How could she possibly have the words to say that it gives her hope and makes her think she and Brooke will get their happy ending?

“May I?” Brooke asks, gesturing to the necklace.

Vanessa nods, and Brooke’s hands are fastening the clasp, and Vanessa feels like part of her old self is back. Brooke is still behind her, breath tickling her skin, and then cool lips press against the back of her neck and a shiver travels through Vanessa’s body.

Vanessa spins around and looks up into Brooke’s eyes, the green reminding her of the fields back home. Maybe one day, Brooke can be her home, too.

“Would it be all right if I kissed you?” Brooke’s voice quirks up with hope.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

She leans up as Brooke leans down and an explosion hits her body when they meet in the middle. She presses against Brooke’s lips and grabs her waist, desperation pouring out of her as they continue to embrace, trying to get an entire lifetime of love and kisses into this one moment.

Pounding on the door tears them apart.

“Hurry up, V!” Silky hisses. “It’s been way more than five minutes.”

It feels like no time at all has passed, but even five hours wouldn’t have been enough for Vanessa.

“I guess I have to go.”

“Right,” Brooke agrees. “Oh, one more thing. I meant to ask you yesterday, but do you think you could take Henry and Apollo back with you? T-Thomas found out about them, and he doesn’t like cats, and my father says I have to learn to compromise. I know they’d be happy with you, and have a nice home with someone who loves them.”

There’s defeat and hurt in the slump of Brooke’s shoulders, her voice seconds away from tears that Vanessa might echo. Brooke has played with those cats every day since she found them, burying her fingers in their fur at breakfast. She told Vanessa they even slept curled against her legs at night, and Vanessa was comforted that Brooke would at least have the cats when she got lonely. She hates to be the one to take them from her, but she vows to give those cats every ounce of love Brooke did, and then some.

“Of course I will. I’ll take good care of them, I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Another knock rings out. “Vanessa, we need to go now.” A’keria’s urgency seeps into the room.

“I love you,” Vanessa says again, praying it won’t be the last time.

“I love you too,” Brooke says, and Vanessa can tell she’s offering up the same prayer.

—-

Vanessa’s next to her parents in an uncomfortable chapel pew in the second row, eyes darting around. There’s guards stationed at each corner and at the door, but what if they aren’t enough? Everything does seem calm, bright blue and white flowers arranged through the chapel, chatter ringing around her, but there’s a deep unease in her bones and she can’t relax.

The men she saw said something about an arrow. She has to believe what she heard is true because she knows no one else does. Where would someone planning to shoot an arrow hide? They’d have to be somewhere high, somewhere unseen, somewhere unguarded–the music loft.

No one will see us up here, I promise, Brooke’s words echo in her mind. The music loft Brooke had taken her to, a place she could tell was special to Brooke, a place she could tell Brooke felt safe in. Now that safety is going to be ripped away from her.

But when would they strike? Who hired them? And why at the wedding? Surely there were other times, other ways, the assassin could have killed Brooke. They could have slipped her poison, or chosen someplace more open than this, where it would be easy to vanish into a crowd. There has to be something important about doing it during the wedding, then. But what?

The music starts as Brooke walks down the aisle and Vanessa can’t bear to watch her princess face arranged blankly the way everyone wants it, eyes downcast as she approaches Thomas. Instead, she fills her head with how Brooke would shine and glow if she were walking down the aisle to marry Vanessa instead of that controlling, cat-hating, social-climbing, pretend king.

Pretend king…

Something snaps within her, and it all comes whirring into focus.

Who met with people in the pub? Thomas.

Who made sure no one believed her when she told them of the threat? Thomas.

Her heart pounds. Could she have it wrong? Could she still be seeing suspicions where there aren’t any, missing the real danger somewhere else?

But one last question passes through her mind, and the answer chills her like ice.

If Brooke dies, who is heir to the throne?

Thomas.

Everything falls into place, pieces she hadn’t even known were in play coming to complete the picture. That’s why they had to wait for the wedding. If Brooke dies after their marriage is sealed, all Thomas has to do is get the king and queen out of the way, and the throne is his. He had probably made the fake threat that day. He made sure Vanessa would hear, knowing she would tell the king, and then twisted it around to make it seem like she was going to attack Brooke.

Pushed hard for the alliance…wanted to have you and your family here…Thomas had wanted them here early all along, had wanted to make it plausible that Vanessa had enough time to plot against Brooke, so he could pin the blame on her.

He’s going to kill Brooke, and Vanessa is going to be the main suspect for Brooke’s murder. He had probably been so rude toward her family, arguing over the alliance, so it looked like she had a motive. Jealous of all the attention Brooke’s receiving… another false motive he planted. And no one will ever believe her. Not against him. She had played right into his hands. Someone’s toy, once again.

Vanessa is steaming with anger, smoke threatening to rise out of her head, but there’s no time for rage now. She has to find a way to save Brooke.

But what is she going to do?

The helplessness rises above her and she’s drowning. Her parents don’t have any authority here. If she interrupts the wedding, no one will listen, and things will only get worse for her and Brooke. The only person that would support her is saying her vows to the very man plotting to kill her.

Another trap with no escape.

Everyone applauds around her as the marriage is official, but Vanessa is numb. The organ is a faint buzzing in her ear, colors dull around her, and it’s only when things go silent that she notices the music has stopped.

Because the assassin killed the organist…

There’s no time. If he’s up there, the arrow is going to fly soon, and Vanessa can see Brooke’s life and everything she’s dreamed of ending in the time it takes the arrow to complete its path. Vanessa runs, everything disappearing as she rushes toward Brooke in the center of the altar, probably placed there by Thomas.

Time slows down, and it feels like she’s moving through quicksand. Shouts erupt as she runs, but she can’t take her eyes off Brooke, whose eyes widen in fear as Vanessa gets closer.

Pain shoots through her arm and her dress rips as something whizzes by her, but the pain can’t slow her as she tackles Brooke, landing on top of her white dress as they slam against the floor.

Vanessa’s arm is burning, blood running down her sleeve and dripping onto Brooke’s dress like a field of tiny roses, but Vanessa doesn’t care. She needs to see if Brooke is all right, if she made it in time.

“Brooke?”

The floor is shifting beneath Vanessa, her vision blurring and making her dizzy, the burning in her arm sharper. Something is very wrong, but Brooke…Brooke looks up at her, and her smile turns to a cough, face twisting with pain.

And then she sees the arrow sticking out of Brooke’s chest, a thin line of blood trickling from it as Brooke mouths I love you.

Except this time isn’t a dream.

[tsgaspencolorado]

Snowmass Wine and Dine

After a long day of skiing, hiking, or biking, it’s more than nice to be able to grab a quick bite with friends or stay local to the village for the night. From pizza with the kids to a date night out, we’ve rounded up four of our favorite restaurants to dine at in Snowmass. 

Base Camp Bar and Grill | This modern mountain gastro-pub overlooks Snowmass Mountain and the patio beckons skiers and hikers alike to take a break and have a cold one. With a full menu of salads, sandwiches, and burgers, there is something for everyone in your group. And you can even partake in their Tuesday samplings of local brews, whiskeys, and rum.

Slice | Pizzas and classic Italian fare fill the menu at this second-floor spot. With incredible daytime views that are patio-worthy, the entire family can fuel up here. Plus, you can always call in a pizza order to go.

Saké | This Pan Asian and sushi restaurant has one of the most extensive saké lists we’ve ever seen. Pleasing even the pickiest of eaters, they offer everything from rolls to traditional rice, noodles, and pan-cooked dishes. Open daily during the season for aprés and dinner, reservations are encouraged. 

State 38 | Named after the 38th state added to the Union, this restaurant serves up fine American cuisine with a focus on Colorado-sourced ingredients. With a lounge, patio, and dining room, there are options from an impromptu happy hour to a mountain atmosphere dinner with friends. And if you are looking for a private dining room, theirs features a cozy fireplace and can hold up to 24 guests. 

All of these locally-owned restaurants can be found at the base of Snowmass Village. Live, love, eat, and enjoy local! And have a bite for us. Delish.

Photography by Brooke Casillas Photography

[butwhyduh]

I want to escape thru another door. An old thick wooden door hewn from a single ancient felled tree. The knob smooth and warm as if a door often opened like a pub. But instead I step through and my fears and anxiety lift off my shoulders. I don’t worry about my past because I know my future is mine. The grass is plush, the air temperate. I hear a nearby brook gently bubbling. It’s late summer and the tree are heavy with fruit. The late season flowers are blooming. It would be nice.

I’m not alone in this world. There are others who have escaped. Some are hear permanent and others temporary as I am. The permanent ones obvious because the longer you stay the less human you are. Perhaps it’s in our very nature to have struggles. Perhaps that’s what makes us human. But I’ll enjoy this for a little longer. The food is plentiful and smells delicious. Perhaps I’ll try it. The people no matter how unusual or ethereal they look are so happy. They seem to genuinely care about me.

Perhaps I will stay. Maybe I’ll grow a set of horns or scales. No one here will mind. I lay in the grass. There isn’t a bug one to bite me. I can hear laughter of others and I can smell bread and sausage and apples cooked. How long have I been here?

The day is getting dark but I’m not scared. Lamps on every tree light the place in soft glow. The others get louder. It’s probably the honey wine and whatever they are smoking. It’s jovial. They mean no harm. They have a bigger feast. A large roast surrounded by seasoned vegetables walks by me as I sit up. It smells divine. A lovely satyr dances by and I watch and laugh. My attention is turned to a shapely woman.

She would pass for a human but something tells me she’s been here a long time. I can’t stop looking at the curve of her neck as it leads down to the swell of her full breasts. Her hips sway to the sounds of wind and string instruments being played. She noticed me and came near. Her full lips curled into a sweet smirk. She smelled of a spicy almost bitter sweetness. Her hand brushes mine. She sings softly and sweetly.

Do I follow her into the woods? Do I dare see what wonders she has promised to show me? Her hand pulls mine insistent. My bracelet, the one my grandmother had given me years before, bit into the palm of my hand drawing a single drop of blood. I suddenly see the darkness of the place.

The others smile garishly. Their singing and dancing and fucking a way to hide their pain. They haven’t escaped their fears and regrets. They are numbing them but they are still there. I can still see mine as easily as I see the drop of blood. I can’t escape. I can only change. But first I must leave.

It’s at this moment I realize ignoring her for a second was a bad idea. I look at her now and her beauty is horrifying. Her smile predatory and I would later swear I saw a glint of sharp teeth. Her fingers clawing at the flesh of my hand.

I gasp and pull myself free. My feet stinging as the soft grass turned to vines and rocks. Was anything in this paradise real? She chases me and I run for the door. The only thing shining and real. My reality with all of its horrors still held the joy only humanity can only have. Her voice now a harsh screech that could never be called human. The darkness closed in as the lamps dimmed. I feel for the handle in total darkness and I can feel her breath on my back.

I find the handle and fling it open in terror. The light garish and harsh compared to the dark. I climb out. I look back so see paradise again, waiting. It was never really paradise with beautiful gardens and sweet people. But there is was, waiting on the next desperate human to climb in. To go willingly to the dark. I walked out of those woods, deeply shaken.

Perhaps I had found a fairy portal. Maybe an ancient demon. Or perhaps it’s a hallucination from fear and I was all alone, as the doctor who later stitched my hand would say. I don’t think I’ll ever know. I’m certainly not trying to find out by going back.

I visited a psychic a few years later. I was going through some relationship problems and wanted her advice. It was clearly a failed marriage and there was no love to be saved and I knew it. But desperation can make anyone a fool. One thing she told me resonated with me after all those years.

“Your bracelet” she said holding my hand similarly to the way the woman in the woods had. She noted the scar on my wrist. “It’s a protection. How did you get it?”

“My grandmother- a protection? What does that mean?” I asked deeply confused.

“Yes. It’s saved your life once before,” she said looking at the scar. The placement made it almost look like a failed suicide and it often caused me embarrassment. The bracelet covered it nicely and I had always felt safer wearing it. “I would suggest you wear it always. She is protecting you,” she said before looking up. I looked on a little shocked. I hadn’t mentioned my grandmother had passed. She shrugged when I asked.

I don’t think the necklace ever had to save me again after that but I never took it off. It just felt right. You don’t have to believe my tale but I know what I saw. I’ve also never wished to escape again. I know what’s on the other side.

[tabloidtoc]

Star, June 3

Cover: Kate Middleton and kids are living with her mom after scandal bombshell 

Page 4: Demi Lovato healthier and happier than ever 

Page 6: Contents, Keanu Reeves and Halle Berry 

Page 8: Secrets from The Bachelorette 

Page 9: Inside Bethenny Frankel’s custody battle, Jennifer Aniston had a nose job revision

Page 10: It’s Shannen Doherty vs. Tori Spelling and Jennie Garth on the set of the 90210 reboot, Mr. Olympia weekend will welcome Mark Wahlberg, Spot the Stars -- Lance Bass, Neil Diamond, Robin Thicke, Golden Brooks, G-Eazy, Cardi B and Offset 

Page 11: Fame by A.J. Benza -- Johnny Depp has cleaned up his life and is looking forward to settling the score and moving on, doormen needed to show Nikolaj Coster-Waldau the door after a night of drinking in an Irish pub 

Page 14: Star Shots -- Jonah Hill and younger sister Beanie Feldstein, Sophie Turner, Carrie Underwood, Chadwick Boseman and Sienna Miller on the set of 21 Bridges 

Page 16: Neil Patrick Harris, Mandy Moore and Milo Ventimiglia, Jamie Foxx 

Page 18: Jodie Comer and Benedict Cumberbatch, Missy Elliot and Justin Timberlake

Page 19: Gabrielle Union and Jessica Alba, Elle Fanning 

Page 20: The cast of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt Tituss Burgess and Jon Hamm and Jane Krakowski, Dennis Quaid and his dog Peaches, Anne Hathaway 

Page 22: The best of the Bentonville Film Festival -- Geena Davis, John Cena, Brittney Duke, Gabrielle Carteris, Jamie Brewer 

Page 24: Fashion -- Best of the Week -- Met Gala -- Elle Fanning, Kacey Musgraves, Lupita Nyong’o 

Page 25: Lady Gaga, Emma Roberts 

Page 28: Kylie Jenner and Travis Scott are ready for a second child 

Page 29: Justin Bieber believes a change in scenery will save his rocky marriage if only he could convince his wife Hailey Bieber, Kendall Jenner scared off boyfriend Ben Simmons when she became busy making plans for the future, Love Bites -- Torrey DeVitto and Jesse Lee Soffer split, Lauren Alaina is dating John Crist, Zach Roloff and wife Tori are expecting a daughter, Kathie Lee Gifford’s son Cody is engaged to Erika Brown 

Page 30: Cover Story -- Kate Middleton moves out 

Page 36: Reese Witherspoon and Nicole Kidman’s feud -- they are competing for the spotlight and this year’s awards when it comes to Big Little Lies 

Page 40: Finding Strength -- These brave celebrities open up about dealing with and overcoming mental illness -- Sophie Turner, Miley Cyrus, Jim Carrey 

Page 41: Justin Bieber, Pink, Lady Gaga, Selena Gomez, Demi Lovato 

Page 42: Entertainment -- Taron Egerton and Elton John on Rocketman 

Page 46: Beauty -- Thandie Newton 

Page 48: Penelope Cruz 

Page 49: Lady Gaga 

Page 50: Leslie Mann 

Page 51: Scarlett Johansson 

Page 60: Parting Shot -- Dolly Parton 

[letterfromtrenwith]

Prescription Passion - Ch. 5

Carolight Hospital AU

Ch 5: Dwight gets an invitation...or two.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

~

“She’s this way.” Dwight didn’t bother with any preamble as Elizabeth strode into the A & E. She wasn’t making a social call. A First Kernow bus had been forced to swerve across a road to avoid a collision between two cars at a junction. The driver had done very well to control it, but several passengers had been thrown to the floor or into other seats. Most had sustained little more than cuts and bruises, but one passenger was a pregnant young woman who had fallen hard into the aisle of the bus. She possibly had whiplash, but it was the baby Dwight was most concerned about.

“What’s her name?”

“Chloe.” Elizabeth pulled back the curtain, Dwight following close behind. Chloe lay on the bed, strapped into a neck brace. One sleeve of her blouse had been cut away to treat her sprained wrist.

“Hello, Chloe. I’m Elizabeth, I’m here to see about your baby, okay?”

“I can’t feel her move, she’s not moving…” Chloe gasped.

“Shhh, shhh, just lie still for me.” Elizabeth glanced back at Dwight. “Have you got the ultrasound?”

“It’s on its way.” He glanced back around the curtain, in time to see Rosina leading a young woman wheeling a machine down the ward towards them. He stepped back to let the technician in, and Elizabeth immediately set to work. Dwight watched as they spread the conducting gel on Chloe’s stomach, and Elizabeth placed the transducer, both she and the technician concentrating intently on the monitor. The fetus’ heartbeat began to come through, loud and clear. Dwight was no obstetrician – although he’d dealt with deliveries during his time with MSF – but even he knew that it was fast, and arrhythmic.

“That’s fast, that’s too fast!” Chloe cried, and her own monitors began to bleep, her heartrate and BP increasing.

“Shhh, Chloe, shhh.” Elizabeth soothed. “You need to stay calm for her, all right? Can you do that, Chloe? It’s fast, but it’s not too fast. We’re going to take you upstairs to keep an eye on you both. Have you got her chart?”

“Here.” Dwight handed it off to her, and he was about to help Elizabeth get the bed moving when there was a shout from further along the ward, machines beeping. He turned away to deal with it, glancing back to see Elizabeth and Rosina wheeling the bed towards the lifts, another nurse and a porter joining them to take care of the equipment.

It was almost four hours later when Dwight finally got around to remembering Chloe, feeling a touch guilty. He’d been busy, dealing with the rest of the injured from the bus crash – the victims of the primary collision had been taken to the Royal Cornwall – as well as numerous other cases. A heart attack, a football injury, severe food poisoning, and everything else that was a bit more commonplace than a bus crash.

Over a cup of watery vending machine tea he rang up to the maternity ward.

“Maternity Unit, Verity Poldark speaking.”

“Oh, hi, Verity, it’s Dwight.”

“Dwight! Hello! What can I do for you?”

“Are you busy?”

“Not really, relatively speaking.”

“I just wanted to check on a patient who came through A & E earlier. A pregnant woman who’d been in a bus crash. Elizabeth brought her up – her name was Chloe…Brooks, I think?”

“Oh, yes. I haven’t been treating her, but…” He heard the click of a keyboard in the background. “Oh hang on, here’s Elizabeth now….Elizabeth!”

“No, don’t bother her – “ Verity’s voice was muffled as if she’d held the receiver away from her, but Dwight heard something about “bus” and “Chloe” and an indistinct reply from Elizabeth.

“Hi, Dwight.”

“Hi, Elizabeth. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“No! It’s okay. You were asking about Chloe? She’s fine, the baby’s fine, it was mostly just reacting to her shock. We’re keeping her overnight for observation, but the baby’s heartrate is back to normal, and she doesn’t seem to be in any kind of distress. All the tests are coming back fine. Chloe’s resting now, her mum and her fiancé are here.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that.”

“It’s good of you to ask after her.”

“Well, thanks for speaking to me, I’ll let you get on…”

“Oh, wait! Now that I’ve got you, are you free on Saturday?” Dwight blinked, thrown by the question. He had to think for a minute.

“Er, yes, I think so. I’m on call overnight on Friday, but I’m off Saturday.”

“Oh, great! George and I are having a little sort of party at home on Saturday afternoon, since most of us are off or on-call that day. Would you like to come?” Dwight felt genuinely touched by the invitation. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to a party, or any real social gathering aside from a couple of trips to the pub.

“Yes, that would be nice, thank you. Can I bring anything?”

“Well, I’ve convinced George to brave the barbeque if it’s fine, so you can bring something for that if you’d like, or something to drink, but it’s not really necessary.”

“Ok, then. Well, I really should get back now, thank you again for asking me.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I? I’ll text you the address, see you. Bye!” With her cheerful goodbye, Elizabeth hung up and Dwight smiled. He wondered if “most of us” included Caroline…

~

Dwight hadn’t managed to get around to sorting himself out with a car, having sold his old one before he went off abroad. George and Elizabeth lived in a suburb he wasn’t familiar with, and which didn’t seem to be on any obvious bus routes, so he was obliged to beg a lift from Verity.

“Wow.” Verity pulled up outside a very beautiful white-painted detached house on a quiet, leafy road. The wide drive way was filled with cars – a silver Audi he recognised as belonging to George, one or two others, and a dark blue soft top Jaguar which set off a little flutter in the pit of Dwight’s stomach. Not because he was a car enthusiast – although it was a beautiful machine – but because he knew it belonged to Caroline.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Verity locked her little Mini, which she’d parked neatly beside the hedge.

“Er, yes.” The door was opened before he could ring the bell, and Dwight almost greeted Elizabeth before the words died on his lips when he realised that he wasn’t looking at Elizabeth at all, but at someone uncannily like her. The impression was made even more slightly disconcerting by the fact that she was holding the same baby girl Dwight had seen a picture of, although rather bigger now.

“Hi, Verity! And you must be Dwight? I’m Morwenna, Elizabeth’s cousin.”

“Oh, right! Yes.” Elizabeth had mentioned her, laughing about St Neot’s being a ‘family affair’. He hadn’t been expecting such a strong family resemblance, however.

“Come in, come in.” They followed her into an airy entranceway and along a hall-way into an impressively large kitchen.

“Hi!” Elizabeth was standing by the back door, holding two bowls in her hands. Slightly awkwardly, he proffered the bottle of rosé he’d brought. “Oh, thank you! That’s lovely! You can put it in the fridge, unless you want to open it?”

“Er, no, I’m okay with a beer, if that’s all right?”

“Of course! Help yourself. Come out when you’re ready.”

They were clearly fairly late to the party; quite a few people were milling about in the garden; a long sweeping lawn, surrounded by neatly kept flowerbeds. He’d stepped out onto a patio, where George was poking unenthusiastically at a gently smoking barbecue.

“I don’t know why you insist on this bloody thing.” He muttered. “We’ve got a perfectly good stove.”

“It’s summer! Honestly, so grumpy.” Belying her words, Elizabeth, having rid herself of the dishes, placed an affectionate kiss on George’s cheek, hugging him. “Now say hello to Dwight and Verity.”

Despite George’s complaining, he was obviously a dab hand at the barbecue as the food was absolutely delicious, not to mention plentiful, considering it came on top of a buffet of salads, breads and half a dozen other things. Clearly, the Warleggans liked to spoil their guests. Dwight kept insisting he didn’t want any more, but his protests were ignored by the hosts, as his insistence he didn’t want another drink was ignored by Morwenna, who seemed to be on bartending duties.  He did manage to eventually persuade her to pour him a large lime and soda, there being a plentiful supply of non-alcoholic drinks for those who were on-call or driving.

Feeling extremely well fed, he sat sipping his drink in a comfortable chair on the extensive decking at the end of the garden, watching a few children run around on the grass. One of them was George and Elizabeth’s little boy, Valentine, who was even cuter in reality than in his picture. Two of the others belonged to a woman he’d been introduced to as Margaret Vosper, a consultant radiologist, and another was the nephew of Emma Tregirls, a nurse he’d met once or twice.

“Well, Dr Enys, are you as well fed as I am?” He started as Caroline sat down next to him, a smile playing about her soft lips. When he arrived, she’d been talking to Demelza and Francis, who seemed oddly inseparable. It was probably just his imagination, but she’d seemed almost keen to avoid him, drifting away from the food table when Elizabeth had dragged him over for yet another helping, and slipping out of the kitchen when he’d taken back an empty beer bottle. He’d barely listened to Malcolm MacNeill as the surgeon had been telling him something about an experimental procedure he was helping to research, distracted by Caroline sitting with Elizabeth on a swing bench by the fence, her bare legs kicking as the bench rocked gently.

“Yes, I couldn’t eat another bite.” He answered, as casually as he could, ignoring the way she was gently trailing her fingers around the rim of her glass.

“Elizabeth is determined to have us all stuffed to the gills. It’s the mother in her.” She tutted. “So domestic.”

Dwight followed her gaze to where Elizabeth and George were standing, George holding their baby daughter while Elizabeth petted her little cheek. He glanced back at Caroline and saw that, despite her words, she was watching them with a small smile, a slightly faraway look in her pretty blue eyes. He was about to speak – although to say what he didn’t exactly know – when Elizabeth called Caroline over. With a quick glance at him, she was gone.

The group dwindled as time wore on – those with children going first, Emma Tregirls picking up her sleeping nephew from where he was curled up on a garden chair and carrying him gently away, managing to lean over and give Elizabeth a quick kiss on the cheek as she left. Shortly after, the phone of the young-ish surgeon Dwight had seen watching the OOKP, and who had introduced himself as Hugh Armitage, trilled, calling him to the hospital. One or two others who had to work tomorrow excused themselves as well, leaving only Francis, Demelza, Verity, Caroline and Morwenna – who Dwight eventually realised actually lived at the house – aside from himself and their hosts.

He began to feel as if he should perhaps leave himself. He’d had a few drinks and he was back to work at 9 on Monday morning, but with Verity as his designated driver, he couldn’t go until she did. It wasn’t that he especially wanted to go, but he was still very aware of being the newcomer to this group, despite his long-standing friendship with Verity.

With the daylight gradually beginning to dwindle, they gathered under a couple of garden umbrellas on the decking, George disappearing behind the shed for a moment before several strings of lanterns lit up along the fence.

“I was so proud of the little group of plant pots in my back yard until I came here for the first time,” Demelza laughed.

“I keep telling them if they didn’t have such a nice house, I would leave, so it’s their own fault I’m still here.” Morwenna smiled, pouring herself a glass of the homemade lemonade Elizabeth had carried out of the house a while earlier before disappearing again.

“Oh, so it’s got nothing to do with the fact we don’t charge you rent?” George raised his eyebrows as he sat down, taking the jug from her to pour some for himself.

“Maybe a tiny bit.”

“All right, who wants ice cream?” Elizabeth returned, balancing two tubs, as well as dishes and spoons.

“Elizabeth, you seem to fully intend that we should all put on at least two stone before the night is over.” Caroline cried, although she took a dish as eagerly as everyone else.

“Yes.” Elizabeth replied flatly, before laughing.

“I’m not sure I can eat another bite.” Demelza patted her stomach.

“Oh, but that’s the beauty of ice cream, it melts and fills the gaps.” Francis stuck his spoon into the rocky road Elizabeth had scooped out for him.

“Is that a medical fact, doctor?”

“Yes, and frankly, as a pharmacist, you should be ashamed of not knowing that.” Demelza laughed, tongue between her teeth and, as Dwight took in the way she was looking at Francis, he suddenly felt monumentally dense.

He’d accepted a dish of cookies & cream flavour, and it was absolutely delicious. It gave him something to focus on other than the way Caroline was sucking on her spoon. He had definitely had too much to drink.

“Are you ready to go, Dwight?” He realised he’d drifted off, staring into his scraped-clean bowl, when Verity spoke to him.

“Only if you are.”

“Well, I was going to have another drink – non-alcoholic! – but if you want to leave…”

“No, it’s ok – “

“I can drive you.” He looked up at Caroline in surprise, feeling his mouth open and close like a fish. Or an idiot. “I’d like to drop in on Uncle Ray before I go home, and the hospital is on the way there – you live nearby, don’t you?”

“Uh, er, yes.”

“Well, then, whenever you’re ready.” Elizabeth pressed him leftover food on both of them – Dwight tried and failed to argue out of the sake of politeness, but he couldn’t really deny that he had absolutely nothing in his fridge.

He felt spectacularly awkward balancing the foil covered dishes on his knee in the slightly cramped front of Caroline’s Jag, really wishing he’d thought to adjust the seat when he got in.

“So, where’s Horace today?” Why was it whenever he was in proximity to Caroline, the ability to conduct an intelligent sounding conversation seemed to desert him?

“My neighbour took him for his walk and fed him this afternoon.” Caroline answered distractedly as they pulled up to a blind corner, easing the car out slowly. He found himself watching her as she drove, her elegant, long-fingered hands on the wheel, her brow furrowed gently as she watched the road. It gave him a slight start when they pulled up outside his flat, the plain brown terraced house looking a bit sad compared to Elizabeth and George’s beautiful home. He’d felt mildly embarrassed when he’d given Caroline the address – he could probably afford something a bit nicer, but it was convenient and it had been available right away.

“Right, well, er, thanks for the lift.” He shuffled the food, about to get out, when Caroline turned to him, her blue eyes sparkling in the low light.

“You intrigue me, Dr Enys.” She tilted her head. “I don’t know why, because I hardly know anything about you.”

“Well.” Dwight swallowed, hoping to God this wasn’t the alcohol making him imagine the enticing look in her eye, and decided to take a chance. “What would you like to know?”