#for example: scrambled eggs

[a-dream-deferred]

thanks for the tag @ibyul !! <3

barbie or oppenheimer // ketchup or mustard // crinkled fries or curly fries // robots or dinosaurs // silly hats or silly socks // spring or autumn // harry potter or lord of the rings // vacation or staycation // day or night // board games or video games // books or movies // money or love // milkshake or iced coffee // waffles or pancakes // chocolate or candy // beach or pool // laundry or dishes // take-out or dine-out // fantasy or sci-fi // lays or pringles

tagging @winryrockbellwannabe @iwillsurvivecollege @alleani @nuuralshams @homelyhoney @cassiopedias @gatheryepens no pressure of course

[evilkaeya]

being depressed sucks ass because there's so many things I wanna do but I just can't

[the-autism-album]

i dunno I think its odd to try applying bare bones "basic feminism" to deeply nuanced conversations about trans oppression . its not really compatible no matter which way you spin it . either you're throwing transmasculine people under the bus because theyre men and therefore Bad by default, or you're throwing transfeminine people under the bus by assuming that being seen as a man is a privilege altogether that cant harm . you have to grow a little beyond "man bad woman good" because, in no unclear terms, no smoke and mirrors, being blatantly honest, that is just gender essentialism .

[sebastian-ciel-mutual-bullying]

Vol 1 Ch 1

"Wow, the servants really are terrified of him! I wonder what he did to make them so scared! "

Vol 32 Ch 176

[swankpalanquin]

in other news, i do feel inspired to start cooking again

[seiwas]

papa bakugo and the thought that he intently raises his kids in ways to be unlike him.

and when they're older, asking serious questions about parenting like: why did you make sure we were friends with everyone on the playground? why did you always have to step away when you were mad? how come you don't like us seeing videos of you when you were younger?

he tells them it's because he never wanted them to turn out like him—that leading by example has always been more effective, and he wasn't exactly the best example back then. still doesn't feel like he is now but he's trying (at least, that's what you say, and it must count for something).

and his kids are confused because what does he mean he isn't the best example? all they want is to be like him.

they want the same fire, the dedication he puts in day in and day out; how he only ever gives his best and never backs down. one of the greatest lessons they've learnt from their papa is that a promise is a promise and you deliver on it. no matter what.

they want the same balance he's achieved, making time for both work and his family but especially his family—how they've never once felt second in his life; how he's managed to show up to every game, every performance like the superdad he is. and even when he doesn't make it for the entire thing, you can bet he's rushing in, all soot-covered and polo unbuttoned with the base of his suit underneath.

(you never told your kids, but on katsuki's 14th father's day, you held him while he cried, tears of relief from his eyes. he was watching their surprise, a day-in-the-life reenactment video of pro-dad bakugo katsuki, starring the kids and you).

they want to love the way he loves them, the way he loves you—attentive and all-in because bakugo katsuki never half-asses anything. he adds personal touches to each plate of breakfast he cooks: bear pancakes for his little girl, egg done scrambled and another sunny-side up for his two boys. and you always insist on having what he's having because you don't want to add to the hassle, but he knows your signature morning drink and serves it right by the plate beside his, always yours.

you always tell him that having your kids turn out like him now is all you could ever want, and he always scoffs, tuts and laughs like it can't possibly be true. but maybe if your kids tell him now, that they want to be just like their papa, he'll believe it—all the good in him that everyone sees but he can't seem to.

you hope he doesn't see it as a bad thing—that his kids have grown and chosen to in the shape of him.

[grunckle]

Qualia and Ascension in Rain World

(To clarify I'm mostly talking about base-game lore and not including Downpour, but honestly most of these things can transfer over)

Qualia

One thing that’s relatively hidden in Rain World’s text and subtext is the concept of qualia. Qualia is described as being, “sensory experiences that have distinctive subjective qualities but lack any meaning or external reference to the objects or events that cause them.” It’s a personal sensory experience that cannot be comprehended by another person other than the individual themself, and are often hard to convey via language.

Qualia is a reoccurring motif in Rain World, but what’s more important is the way in which it’s conveyed to the player. The picture that’s painted is that of a world or civilization that placed a great importance on the individuals’ experience, and it’s shown through pearls or environmental details.

Here are some examples of qualia appearing in the text through pearls.

“It's qualia, or a moment - a very short one. Someone is holding a black stone, and twisting it slightly as they drag their finger across the rough surface. The entire sequence is shorter than a heartbeat, but the resolution is extraordinary.”

“A memory... but not really visual, or even concrete, in its character. It reminds of the feeling of a warm wind, but not the physical feeling but the... inner feeling. I don't think it has much utility unless you are doing some very fringe Regeneraist research.”

“This one... is authored by Five Pebbles, when he was young. There has been an attempt to scramble the data, but it's sloppily done, and most is still somewhat legible. It's written in internal language, or thoughts, so it is hard for me to translate so you would understand.”

But the most prominent examples of qualia and it’s importance in this world are the Memory Crypts and possibly ancient naming conventions. The deep purple pearl (shortened) found in Shaded Citadel states,

“In this vessel is the living memories of Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel, of the House of Braids (…) Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel nobly decided to ascend in the beginning of 1514.008, after graciously donating all (ALL!) earthly possessions to the local Iterator project (Unparalleled Innocence), and left these memories to be cherished by the carnal plane. The assorted memories and qualia include:”

Ancients likely mutated their own neural tissue into the cabinet beasts we see in Shaded, which were used to store their memories and qualia before ascension. Even james said once "how 5 pebs got the rot is a good hint here" in response to someone asking how cabinet beasts work, and how they're made.

Adding on to this, ancient (and iterator) naming conventions seem to be built off of the concept of qualia, with them focusing on individual images or experiences.

Nineteen Spades, Endless Reflections

Droplets upon Five Large Droplets

Two Sprouts, Twelve Brackets

Looks to the Moon

Generally, this all points to a world focused on the expression and preservation of the individual experience. You could even consider some of the echo dialogue as more evidence for this running motif, but I already have too many quotes lol.

Ascension

So now time to talk about my interpretation of ascension. In short, you turn into a worm, but I should probably explain more than that.

So its been surfacing on rw-tumblr that the light in the end of the game is called the egg in files. Although file names shouldn't be taken as fact or canon, it is pretty obvious given the birth imagery.

But something a little lesser known is what happens to the worm that takes us down to the void-sea depths. Void worms normally have a bright glowing effect, on their body, which is present for ours as well. But after it unhooks us, it swims down, and when it passes us on it's way back that glowing effect is gone.

To be honest, I don't really think this can be interpreted in many ways, but the most obvious one and the one I personally subscribe to is that the worm laid the egg. Biology and spirituality really aren't that different in Rain World, it's implied that karma is stored in the brain through Five Pebbles's slideshow. Adding on to that, we see voidspawn after eating an iterator neuron. One's spiritual state is innately tied to their mental state, and that dictates what and what they can't perceive.

And for that reason I decide to take a more biology leaning approach to what happens in the ending. At face value, we are fertilizing the egg of a void worm to be reborn into a voidspawn.

Not only do void spawn and void worms have multiple characteristics in common, (worm like bodies, tendrils/tentacles, glowing heads, void spawn look microbial and void worms are likely some of the oldest "life" in game)

but voidspawn are seen inside egg-like coverings and share the same egg light seen in the end of the game, confirmed to be the same thing by Videocult in a livestream they did.

I believe that all this points to ascension being re-birth into a voidspawn, which eventually undergoes metamorphose into a worm. Higher-dimensional beings, who manifest and give birth to a new world.

So how does this tie in with qualia? Another thing you might know is that the area in which void spawn are most plentiful is Shaded Citadel and areas in Shoreline near Shaded. And shaded is absolutely packed with Cabinet Beasts, even outside Memory Crypts. I believe these qualia-storing creatures are what manifest voidspawn.

From what we see in ascension, it still looks physical and largely based around the real world. Hunter still has his scars and see's an iterator, survivor sees the slug tree in a more mystical and formless state, and monk sees survivor frankly just looking like a normal slugcat. I think that ascension is a product of qualia. We transcend our earthly knowledge via the egg, and our own qualia is used to give birth to a new world. This is why voidspawn appear most in Shaded Citadel.

Now I won't be getting into Void-Worm theories too much here, I'm mostly focused on ascension but I can't ignore the Gnosticism parallels. For those who don't know, Void Worms heavily resemble the Yaldaboath from Gnosticism, along with sharing some similar celestial motifs.

and running with that some people theorize that, like the Yaldabaoth, void worms are responsible for manifesting the material world. Ascension seems to be a mix of the concepts of Gnosis and Nirvana, but I believe it might lean more on Gnosis.

From my limited knowledge, Gnosis is a few things, some of which being a state achieved from experiences or intuitions, and an essential part to salvation is personal knowledge. While researching a bit, I came across this text by Peter Wilberg called "From NEW AGE to NEW GNOSIS" which brings up some comparisons between Gnosticism and qualia as well.

"Gnosis is subjective knowledge of an inner universe made up not of matter, energy, space or time but of countless qualitative spheres or ‘planes’ of awareness – a knowledge obtained directly through inter- subjective resonance. It is the subjective science of this inner universe."

One thing though that has been brought up when discussing this is how this can be consolidated with the tone of the ending. It is pretty un-ambiguously happy, but if we're going with the Void worm Yaldaboath theory then that would put a bit of a sour twist on it right?

I agreed with these for some time, but now I actually think it ties in perfectly with Rain World's core themes as stated by the devs, "overcoming differences and finding empathy." I don't think the void worms are "evil" or malevolent, but I think they (and subsequently us after ascending) play a key role in demonstrating this theme.

By manifesting the physical world, we allow these souls to experience life and develop their own qualia so one day they can ascend themselves. We are shown compassion, and pass it forward.

[kahvilahuhut]

food themed oc asks 🍅

food preferences tell a lot about us and the same can be said about our ocs. And so, here's a funny ask game.

GENERAL/MISC

🍎 What's your oc's favorite food(s)?

🍊 Your oc is brought to the fruits and veggies aisle of the grocery store. What do they pick?

🍌 If your oc would pick a yoghurt or something like it, would they rather 1) eat plain yoghurt 2) eat flavored yoghurt or 3) eat yoghurt with the fruit bits in it.

🥭 Does your oc drink juice? What's their favorite kind of juice? Do they mind the fruit pulp that can sometimes be found in these?

🥝 Does your oc have food restrictions? Is the reason related to health, culture, ethics, preferences or something else?

🫐 Would your oc eat something they found outside? (for example: berries, mushrooms, not eaten chocolate bar, stuff like that)

🍇 Does your oc prefer coffee, tea, or hot chocolate? Do they prefer them hot or cold? What would their usual order in a cafe be?

🧄 How much spices does your oc use when cooking? Do they prefer bland taste or spicy/rich in flavor meals?

🍤 What's their opinion on seafood?

🧇 Do they enjoy baking? What's their favorite thing to bake? What's their favorite pastry to eat?

🍳 Do they enjoy cooking? What's their favorite thing to cook? Do they cook alone or with someone else?

🥖 What's their favorite kind of bread?

🫕 Do they like cheese?

🍾 Does your oc drink alcohol? What's their favorite drink(s) (can be alcoholic or non-alcoholic)? Would they know how to mix a cocktail?

🍟 What is your oc's opinion on fast food? How often do they buy it?

BREAKFAST

🥐 Your oc is given a chance to order a breakfast from cafe - what do they order? Would they actually do that?

🥯 What's their usual breakfast like? Do they eat breakfast, and if so, how regularly? Do they eat alone or with someone else? What would an ideal breakfast for them be?

🥚 What is your oc's preferred way to eat eggs? If your oc doesn't eat eggs, what do they think about scrambled tofu or the equivalent in their world?

🥓 At what time does your oc eat breakfast?

🥨 Brunch picnic time with friends/partner(s)/companions/[insert your ocs' close people here]! What is your oc bringing?

LUNCH

🥗 Your oc is now at a salad bar (a buffet-like place where you can do your own salad). What do they put in there? Do they add some kind of protein? Some sweet fruits? Some seeds or bread?

🥪 What kind of sandwiches does your oc like/would like to eat? If they could eat it for lunch, would they only eat it or something else, too?

🍣 What's your oc's typical lunch like? Do they usually eat lunch, and if so, how regularly? Do they eat alone or with someone else? What would their ideal lunch be like?

🥟 What's something your oc would love to eat for lunch almost every time?

🥙 They are having a lunch date. Which place do they pick and what are they ordering? Do they hurry or would they rather be late from whatever happens after lunch?

DINNER

🧆 Would they rather eat a stuffing lunch and light dinner or vice versa? Why?

🍚 They have been invited for a dinner by someone close to them! Where are they going, what are they ordering, what are they drinking and what do they talk about?

🍛 What's your oc's typical dinner like? Do they usually eat dinner, and if so, how regularly? Do they eat alone or with someone else? What would their ideal dinner be?

🍜 Do they love cooking dinner or would they rather eat somewhere else or order takeout?

🥘 Does your oc prefer a quick, calm dinner or would they rather have a very long one?

SNACKS & CO.

🍩 What is their favorite dessert? Do they get it often? What is their go-to dessert?

🥕 They are packing some snacks because they're going to be away from home for a while. What do they take with them? What's their opinion on trail mix?

🍒 How often do they eat berries and other kinds of veggies?

🥞 Your oc is ordering food from a fast food chain. They can also pick something else than the main meals. What do they buy?

🍦 Your oc wakes up at night, feeling hungry. Do they go eat? If yes, what will they eat?

🫖 Does your oc eat anything between dinner and going to sleep? How often?

☕️ Does your oc eat anything between lunch and dinner? How often?

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 2

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: I was overwhelmed by the response on Part 1 (in the BEST way). 🥹 Thank you so much for everyone who read and sent me your lovely amazing comments! Here's Part 2 a bit early for ya. 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: Idiots flirting, with a side of sexual harassment. 😪

Part 2: "Lieutenant Winchester"

Firehouse 25 was just as much a house as it was a home.

Especially for Dean Winchester.

In the common room, he sat down at his preferred corner of the sofa with a cup of coffee. By now, the guys knew this was his spot, perfectly angled toward the new flatscreen TV someone donated last month.

Up until then, they’d had to hotwire the same tank from 1995, which had only got basic cable. Now at least the newer smart TV came with a subscription to Netflix, courtesy of the donor. 

Dean raised his favorite Batman mug to his face, expecting to imbibe some rich dark roast. What he got was a travesty.

Spitting out the brown soil water back into the mug, he coughed and grimaced.

“Jack!” he called out.

Jack Kline, the newest addition to the house, raised his head from where he was trying to scramble eggs in the open kitchen directly behind the couch.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he replied.

“Why does this coffee taste like ass?” Dean asked. His voice was still gruff with sleep, as he depended on his morning coffee to wake him up, not assault his tongue.

Behind him, Jack blinked in confusion. “Uh…”

Dean finally turned around and gave the younger man a raised brow.

“What brand did you buy, Candidate?” he asked.

A candidate was a freshly graduated firefighter on probation. They were the rookie, the bottom rung of the totem pole, and Jack was that proverbial whipping post.

“Um…” Jack went to find the coffee canister he’d put away in the cupboards. He showed Dean the red plastic jug. “Folgers. It was on sale.”

“Fuck me,” Dean muttered. “Never Folgers, Candidate. Anything but fucking Folgers. The one thing we don’t skimp out on is quality joe.”

“That ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son,” Benny remarked, as he and Gordon entered the common room. Benny held a to-go mug he’d brought from home. After he’d seen what Jack brought for groceries yesterday, he’d taken no chances.

“What you wanna get is Gevalia,” Benny added.

“That European crap?” said Gordon. He took his usual spot at the dining table, leaning back in his chair. It left Benny to sit at the other end of the couch with Dean.

“Better than that piss water you drink,” Benny said with a smirk. Gordon raised a brow at him.

“Tea is medicinal, jackass.” The Black man raised a finger to punctuate his point. “It’s good for you. Unlike that carburetor fluid y’all drink.”

“Whatever, man,” Dean said, even though a grin edged at his lips. “All I know is, we need premium coffee, stat. Or it’s gonna be a cranky shift.”

“I can go to the store real quick,” Jack offered.

Say what you want about the kid’s poor taste in grocery buying, he was always willing to jump in when you needed him.

“Nah, stay on breakfast,” said Dean. “I’ll go afterwards. But remember, today you’re practicing rappelling drills.”

Jack nodded. “And lunch duty. And helping clean the truck, and all the bathrooms…did I miss anything?”

Dean shared a look with Gordon. Not only did he drive the truck, but he was one of the men Dean relied on most, as he had the next highest seniority on the job out of the whole firehouse.

Well, except for Benny Lafitte, Captain of the Rescue Squad. Squad members were considered specialists in complex rescue situations. They were highly trained on more sophisticated technical rescue equipment and rappelling, even scuba diving.

It took long years for a firefighter to make it onto Squad; something that Dean used to have ambitions for. But ever since he got promoted to Lieutenant on Truck 79, he realized that his role in this house was best served on the Truck, not on Squad.

“If he gets through all that, Meg might have something for him too,” Gordon said.

“Oh, don’t bring me into this,” remarked a droll voice. “I’ve already got one pound puppy to look after.”

Their Paramedic in Charge strode in with Chuck on her heels. They’d just pulled into the firehouse driveway on Ambulance 7.

“Nice. That’s how you talk about your partner of three years?” Chuck said with a frown. Meg turned to him with a wry grin.

“Only the ones who can hack it on my Ambo,” she replied. “What can I say. You’re special, Shurley. Either that, or a glutton for punishment.”

Gordon shook his head and looked over at Jack.

“Careful with that one. She chewed and hacked out her last partner in under a month.”

“Poor guy didn’t even transfer,” Dean added, making a “flatlining” motion with his hand. “He just quit. Dropped out of the Fire Academy that same day.”

Not all firefighters were made through Meg’s department, but it was a common route, working as a paramedic while getting put through your paces in the Fire Academy. Dean himself had gone straight to the Academy after getting his EMT certification.

But at Dean’s words, Jack’s eyes widened a fraction. Meg turned to him with an almost feline smile. 

“How was the call?” Benny asked her, speaking of the job they’d just returned from. Meg’s expression dimmed a little, as did Chuck’s as they both sat down at the table.

“Ah, just Henry again,” she said. “Overdosed on his insulin.”

Benny frowned, while Dean shook his head. Jack’s brows furrowed.

“Who’s Henry?” he asked.

Meg sat back in her chair with a subtle sigh. Knowing his work partner’s mood, Chuck answered the young man’s question.

“He’s homeless, lives by the river,” he said. “He’s one of our ‘regulars,’ you could say. When we get the call, usually he’s passed out. Dehydration. But sometimes it’s more serious.”

“You can’t take him to the hospital?” Jack asked in concern.

“Today we did,” Meg said. Her brown eyes met Jack’s, her mouth in a thin line. “But without health insurance, there’s only so much they can do after they get him stable.”

That fell a bit heavily into the room. It wasn’t a pleasant fact, but it was the reality. Jack was learning more and more about that aspect of this job, and learning if he could handle the darker shades of what it could bring.

“Well, breakfast is ready,” he said, bringing a large plate of eggs and toast onto the counter. Dean tossed him an appreciative half-smile and got up from the couch.

“Thanks, kid,” he said, walking over along with everyone else. He took a moment to pat Jack on the shoulder.

“What do you want to do first: run drills, or help me and Gordon wash the truck?” Dean asked.

Jack looked up with a smile. “Can we run drills first?”

Dean nodded, grinning back at him. “Good answer.”

The rest of the Truck and Squad crews ambled in at both the announcement and the smell of food. And before long, the common room was filled with conversation, good-natured teasing, and shitty coffee all around.   

From his vantage point facing the open door to the driveway, Benny caught sight of a young woman heading towards the double doors with a large tupperware bin in hand. Bonnie the receptionist happened to be coming in at the same time. You asked her a question Benny couldn’t quite hear.

“Dean… Oh, you’re looking for Lieutenant Winchester?” Bonnie asked. Her voice tended to carry. “Right in there, hun.”

“Well, that sure is interesting,” Benny murmured with a smile. He glanced over slyly at his friend. “Heads up, brother.”

Dean looked up from his plate of eggs expectantly. Benny gestured over with his eyes, just as you walked into the firehouse, both cautious and unsure of where you were going.

Dean’s brows raised. He found himself setting down his plate and getting up from the couch before he really knew what he was doing.

You looked exactly how he remembered. Though this time, you weren’t coffee stained in your professional blouse and black pencil skirt. His attention drew briefly downwards to your heels, this time solid black (and even taller than the last pair, damn).

He noticed all the same things he had last time: the shade of your hair, pinned up again with a clip as stray pieces framed your face. The way you carried yourself when you finally saw him, straightening with a subtle confidence in your shoulders, even though you looked a bit nervous. And the pretty curve of your lips when your eyes found his.

“Hey, there,” Dean said. He gave you one of his trademark smiles. “Good to see you again.”

“Uh, hi,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you remember me.”

Dean nodded. “‘Course I do. What can I do for you?”

Your face seemed to freeze up a bit as you looked up at him.

“Oh, um, nothing really. I just wanted to say thank you, again,” you said. And you glanced past him, where the rest of the firehouse members were discreetly watching. “All of you, actually. And my friend told me that firefighters really like food…but, I mean, doesn’t everyone?”

You laughed a little, in a nervous way that made Dean struggle not to smile too much.

“Anyway, I like to bake,” you twittered on, “and I had some time this week after…well, you know what happened. So…I brought this!”

You raised up your tupperware with a smile.

And you were damn adorable, Dean thought. His own smile deepened as he glanced down at the offering, then at you. He took the container and opened the lid, and was honestly surprised at what he saw.

He could’ve sworn these were Bonafede, just-poured-out-of-the-box Girl Scout cookies. Dozens of them. He saw shortbreads (complete with the little wavy lines), Samoa cookies with the coconut flakes, and even what looked like chocolate covered Thin Mints. They also smelled delicious.

“Wow. Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, with genuine warmth. “I’m pretty sure the guys are gonna tear these apart the second I put ‘em down.”

Your face brightened, and Dean noticed how it reached your eyes with a bit of a blush.

“Well, I hope you guys enjoy,” you said. Your hands fiddled with your purse next.

“Heading off to work now?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, with a certain glint in your eye. “I plan on taking the stairs this time.”

Dean raised a brow. “All 22 floors?”

“Gotta get my steps in somehow,” you joked. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to become a repeat offender, make you guys come all the way back across town again.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t mind,” he said, meeting your eyes. And he found that he meant it. In fact, he didn’t think he’d mind if your building’s elevator broke down every damn week.

Your expression shifted towards amusement. “Well, you must be very dedicated to your job.”

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you. He had half a mind to heed his instincts, to take advantage of the signals he thought you were sending him, and ask if he could take you out sometime.

But it was unprofessional here at the firehouse (not that that had stopped him before). He’d been making efforts to curb that kind of behavior for the past few months.

He also remembered the 30 floors of your massive, fancy office building. He considered the price tags that probably came with the admittedly sexy, high-powered corporate look you had going on. Those were probably a lot more zeros than he was used to seeing on his paycheck.

So for once, he didn’t pull the trigger.

“Well, thanks. I really do appreciate that,” Dean replied. His smile then was more sincere, if also more professional. He gestured at the container in his hand. “And on behalf of all the guys, thanks for this too.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “I have to go, but…thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester.”

“Ah,” he shook his head, “just call me Dean.”

You agreed by smiling, just a little bit more.

“Dean.”

He nodded back, sending you off with a smile of his own. He forced himself to taper it down after you left, and he had to turn around to meet his friends. Their grins reminded him of piranhas.

“All right. Out with it, you freakin’ jackals.” He waved his free hand in a “bring it on” gesture.

Meg was the first one to burst out laughing. It spearheaded the rest of them, whooping and catcalling and generally being menaces. Even Jack was grinning at his lieutenant’s expense.

Meg got up from her seat and bumped Dean’s shoulder on her way to the kitchen, where she dumped her dishes.

“Thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester,” she mocked in a saccharine sweet voice. Then she lowered it into an exaggerated mimic of his deeper one, “Call me Dean, baby girl. Fucking priceless. You should get your own Hallmark movie.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He’d been prepared for this, but his face was still getting warm.

“Shut up, Meg,” he tossed back. They all had an ongoing Family Guy joke that never failed to make their PIC narrow her eyes. And she did so now, giving him a fake grimace as she left the kitchen.

“All right, kiddos. If you need me, don’t,” she said. “Chuck! Let’s sort the ambo’s inventory.”

“Got it,” her partner nodded. He too got up and placed his dishes in the sink before he took off after Meg.

This left Dean with the rest of the guys, who still gave him knowing smiles as he set your bin of cookies down on the table. He blew out a breath before he returned to the couch and sat down heavily across from Benny and Gordon.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Dean Winchester bitched out,” Gordon remarked.

Once again, Dean rolled his eyes.

“Truly incredible,” Benny added. He shook his head when Dean just crossed his arms. “She was eying you like a pork cutlet, and you just let her walk outta here.”

“We’re in the house, guys. What was I supposed to do?” Dean groused.

Benny and Gordon looked at him like he’d just denounced Led Zeppelin (his favorite band of all time). 

“Get her goddamn number, Winchester,” said Gordon. The man’s lips curved. “Or at least, introduce her to a brother.”

Dean shot him a glance. Gordon Walker was damn good at driving the truck, but he was also known for being a hunter of the ladies himself.   

“She seemed nice,” Jack put his two cents in with a smile. He was standing behind the couch, leaning his elbows on it. Gordon scoffed, nodding his agreement.

“Yeah, with a fat ass too,” he said, sipping his tea. 

Benny reached over and hit his shoulder to shut him up. 

“That’s a lady, Gordon,” he said. Though a suspect smile graced his lips as he glanced at Dean. “A lady with a nice ass.” 

Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t disagree. The first time he met you, he’d been impressed by the way you stood your ground with your asshole boss. Dean thought you were going to chuck that lethal looking heel at the guy. But behind that steely exterior was a kind little softie.

Today, he got your sweet side. It was equal parts sexy and adorable. 

And damn if you didn’t have a nice ass, nice curves, and a nice mouth. 

But your eyes, he thought. Those were nothing short of beautiful. 

About twenty minutes across town, an apartment building was swarmed by police cars. One unit in particular was sealed off with yellow caution tape as a team of officers drifted in and out. 

What a fucked way to die.

Detective John Winchester observed the unnatural angle that the victim—Jerry Stillwell, a certified public accountant—had his throat cut with a jagged weapon.

It hadn’t been clean in the least. And he’d bled out across his work desk and a stack of papers, as well as his desktop computer. He was 45, unmarried, and murdered in his own home in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

The computer wouldn’t turn on, and not because of the blood. It had been wiped with magnetized technology, most likely by the intruder. Though there was no sign of forced entry, according to John’s partner. The murder weapon was missing as well, though it looked like a knife wound.

John leaned over the on-site medical examiner’s shoulder to peer closer at the man’s wounds. Stillwell had most likely been grabbed from behind. So far, the signs pointed to the culprit being someone the victim knew.

They probably took Stillwell by surprise, but he was a large man. If John had to guess, over 250 pounds, unathletic, but still, not easy to overpower. Likely the suspect was a man over 6 feet; strong, and efficient. Though the messiness of the kill made John think this guy took "pride" his work, so to speak.

“Signs of struggle,” said the M.E. “Skin under the fingernails. He fought back, and…huh.”

John’s interest piqued at the man’s shift in tone. “What?”

“Take a look at this.” The M.E. was holding Stillwell’s right hand, palm-up, revealing a small burn on the inside of the wrist. John’s gaze sharpened on the mark.

“Cas, come here,” he said. Across the room, Detective Cas Novak paused in his task of examining the entry points of the apartment to join John at his side. His blue eyes widened a fraction at seeing the burn. It was a symbol of a snake eating its own tail.

“That makes four,” Cas said.

“Yep. We’ve got ourselves a murder cluster,” John said. Cas nodded. He beckoned John to the side, making sure the M.E. was out of earshot before he spoke. “Isn’t it time we brought Sam up to speed on this, at least?”

John’s brows furrowed.

“No,” he said. “Sam’s an ADA. We don’t go to him until we have someone to indict.”

He walked away from Cas, who frowned. John knew damn well that wasn’t what he meant. This was the fourth murder within six months of this nature. The fourth to be branded with the mark of Azazel…a criminal who supposedly disappeared decades ago.

Shortly after November 2, 1983, the day of Mary Winchester’s death.

Seeing Dean again had gone better than you thought it would. It left you feeling light and downright cheerful when you left the firehouse this morning. Unfortunately, the great start to your morning only crumbled when you reached your office.

Now, even at the end of your day, finally back at home and in the familiarity of your kitchen, the tension headache was back.

“Dre, I’m tired. Can’t we do this another night?” you asked.

Your cell phone was balanced between your ear and your shoulder as you counted out your grandfather’s pills, and placed them in each “Monday through Sunday” box in the blue container.

“No, we absolutely cannot. Because today was horrific,” Andréa said. “For me, because my coworker decided to play hookie on the day our top account needed the mockups of their new website. Never mind that she hadn’t even started.”

Pause for an aggravated breath, through which you frowned in sympathy. She’d told you the entire story over lunch today.

“And for you, because Nick once again displayed why he’s a subhuman neanderthal, in spectacular fashion,” she added.

Your grimace deepened at the reminder.

Earlier today, just before a sales meeting you were set to lead, you’d turned away from the conference table to set up the projector. Nick was early for once, making it just him and you in the room.

He’d sat back in his chair and uttered a remark that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“I’ll tell you what, babe. You sure know how to wear a skirt.”

Your back straightened, and slowly you turned. Your face was set in stone, save for a solitary raise of your brow.

“Excuse me?”

Nick’s smirk was lazy as he kicked his feet up on the table. His hand held a tumbler of whiskey. You noted the half empty carafe, which just yesterday had been full and untouched.

“Fucking fantastic legs,” he said, vaguely outlining your shape with his hand. “I applaud you. It’s all very…sexy secretary. Oooh! Sexcretary. Fucking brilliant.”

You gaped, trying to put a clamp on the furious spike in your blood.

“Are you drunk?” you asked incredulously.

He raised his fingers an inch or so apart, scrunching up his face and trying not to laugh.

“Actually nah, not at all,” he bluffed. 

He let his hand fall back into his lap. You shook your head and set down your papers in order to cross your arms.

“Good. Then you’ll hear me clearly when I say, I’m filing a formal complaint with Billie in HR,” you said.

“Whaaat? Why?” he complained. You huffed incredulously.

“For your little comments, which are getting more and more heinous. Not to mention your excessive drinking during company hours.”

Nick pursed his lips. “Christ on a stick. Can’t you take a fucking compliment?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “What I refuse to take is any further sexual harassment. This isn’t the first incident I could disclose, but I’m damn sure you’ll want it to be the last.”

He kicked his feet off the table and slowly stood. You didn’t want to be afraid of this sloppy, frat boy drunken attitude, but a tendril of trepidation still laced down your spine as you took a step back.

“You could do that,” he nodded, tilting his head. “Or, I’ll give your Zimmerman account to Josh, along with your commission.”

You frowned, and shock made your entire body tense. 

“You…you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. Your insides fairly shook with frustration tinged with anger. “I’ll sue you.”

“With what money?” Nick scoffed.

Your brows knitted together then. How the hell would he know anything about your finances?

The man noted your reaction with a nod.

“Yeah, I know all about grammy and gramps. Surgeries, funerals, treatments…” he said. He leaned against the table with one hand, and still he fairly loomed over you.

He wasn't as broad as someone like Dean, but he was tall and lean. His dirty blonde hair was swept to the side, his blue eyes bearing down on you.

“I am this company. If you don’t like it, you can get the fuck out, sweetheart,” he said.

His gaze lowered, roaming your glowering face.

“And good luck getting anywhere else without a reference from one of the biggest corporations in Lawrence, Kansas.”

You sighed. Yeah, you might’ve shed some frankly embarrassing tears in the women’s bathroom after that. You hadn’t even told Andréa the full story, which included the details of his comments, along with his threats.

You didn’t want her to worry. And maybe, more selfishly, you were embarrassed at having to deal with it at all.

Truth be told, you still didn’t know what the hell you were going to do. About Nick, or your job…but somehow, getting drunk at a bar seemed about the last thing you should be doing.

“I need a drink,” Andréa insisted. “Which means you definitely need a drink. And I know exactly where we’re going.”

After a long moment, you leaned your elbows on the kitchen counter and rubbed through the persistent ache in your forehead. Maybe, just this once, you deserved to forget about reality. Just for a little while.

“Fine. Where?” you asked.

“It’s this great bar Meg told me about. The Roadhouse.”

“Ah, the usual suspects,” Ellen drawled at the men who managed to find seats at her bar, next to the rest of their party. The Roadhouse was packed on a Friday night, but she always had room for these two.

Benny and Dean wore similar tired, but pleasant smiles as they greeted their esteemed barkeep.

“What’s it been, Ellen, a whole shift since I’ve seen your delightful face?” Dean said.

Ellen gave him a mocking smile as she poured him his favorite beer on tap. Dean grinned and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder as he sat down. He and Cas had been waiting for a little while.

…Well, maybe longer than a little.

“Hey, dude,” Dean said. Sam perked up from his second beer with pursed lips.

“You know we’ve been waiting on you for like an hour, right?” he said.

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy,” Dean teased. He nodded his thanks at Ellen when she set his beer in front of him, and a glass of whiskey for Benny. “We had a last-minute call. Some guy just couldn’t wait to start his Happy Hour. Drove his car into the company fountain.”

Sam’s brows raised incredulously. He looked over at Benny for confirmation, and the other man gave a resigned nod.

“Apparently it set the ducks into a tizzy,” he said. “The guy’s fine. Probably gonna get slapped with a DUI.”

Dean smirked and raised a finger at both Sam and Cas. “Duck Guy’s your problem now.”

Cas shook his head and raised his beer to his lips.

“Not my department.”

“Mine either,” Sam scoffed. Both of them worked in homicide cases, just from the differing sides of law and order. In fact, they worked together more often than Dean and Cas did.

Dean looked over at his friend Cas for a moment. He looked like more of a hot mess than usual, with his tie half undone, and a scruffy half-beard covering his face.

“Geez, man. You look like shit,” Dean remarked. “You and Meg fighting again?”

“No,” Cas replied, his brows furrowing. “…Well, yes. But nothing more than her usual insanity. Something about the cat preferring to sleep next to me than to her.”

“Well, that’s not so bad,” Benny said. “My dog don’t like her either.”

“Maybe they can smell that she’s feral,” Dean quipped. Cas sent him a dry look at that.

“She threatened to move out,” he revealed. “Even packed a bag at 3:00 in the morning. I spent two hours unpacking what she was re-packing, all while we argued in our underwear, not sleeping.”

Sam and Dean shared bemused looks, while Benny shook his head into his whiskey.

“So how’d it end up?” Sam asked. Cas sighed and took another long sip of his beer.

“Like it always ends, Sam,” he said, his lips quirking. “With our neighbors calling the precinct to complain, and me, somehow ending up sleeping on the couch for a crime I didn’t commit. If she wants to blame someone, blame the goddamn cat.”

Dean chortled. He brought his beer to his lips, but couldn’t resist a light jab at his best friend first.

“Dude, I love her like a sister, but your girlfriend’s unhinged,” he said.

Cas could only nod. “Most are, I’ve come to find.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head. “Not mine.”

“Yeah, that’s because Eileen doesn’t have to see you more than two minutes at a time,” Dean teased. He and his brother still shared an apartment, and Sam’s job as an Assistant District Attorney wrought demanding hours.

Sam shot his brother a flat look.

“Oh, I’m not taking that from the serial playboy,” he said.

Dean’s brows knitted together.

“All right, calm down,” he said. “I’m not Hugh Hefner.”

“Mr. Hit and Run,” Cas added, a smirk gracing his features.

“Chief ‘No Daddy Issues,’” Benny tipped in, giving his annoyed, green-eyed friend a sly glance. “With a side helping of the Clap.”

Dean’s lips pressed into a line. He leveled a finger at Benny.

“That girl was clean, okay? False alarm,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward as he sipped his beer. Thank Christ for that one. “The rash was just carpet burn.”

Sam shook his head and turned to his brother more seriously.

“Bottom line: until you date a woman for more than two weeks—hell, two days at a time—you don’t get to comment on the happily committed,” he said. 

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew his track record with relationships. As in, he didn’t really have a record…but it wasn’t for lack of trying. At least, not for the past few months.

Sam managed to break Dean out of his thoughts by clearing his throat, pushing his empty bottle across the counter.

“All right, speaking of. I gotta go,” he said.

“Aw, why? We just got here. Let me buy you another,” Dean offered.

Sam shot his brother another knowing look. Dean knew it well; it said, if he’d been here on time, they would’ve shared the first two drinks.

“I’m picking up Eileen,” Sam said, grabbing his blazer and fixing the collar when he put it on. “There’s this Latin club she wants to go to.”

Dean raised incredulous brows.

“My brother’s going salsa dancing?”

Sam sighed in exasperation, despite his smile. “Bye, Dean.”

He shot his other two friends a nod.

“See you guys.”

Cas and Benny both saw him off with a subtle raise of their drinks, while Dean just shook his head.

“All right, Samantha,” he called out. Sam didn’t bother to turn around as he raised up a choice finger behind him.

Dean snorted into his drink. “Very mature.”

Benny and Cas shared a wry look. They were relieved when Ellen’s daughter Jo came by, picking up the slack for her mom, who was serving a rowdy group of college kids at a nearby table.

“Hey, guys. Need another round?” Jo asked. She gave them all a familiar smile, but her eyes lingered on Dean. He gave her a more reserved smile back.

“Hey, Jo,” he nodded. “I uh…actually think I’m good right now.”

“Me too,” Cas said. He even stood up and grabbed his trenchcoat in similar fashion as Sam had. The two had paid for their beers before Benny and Dean even got there.

“Aw, not you too,” Dean groused.

“If I don’t make dinner, we run the risk of the apartment going up in flames,” Cas informed him. Dean could only assume he was talking about Meg. “Despite working with the Fire Department for ten years, the woman can’t manage to boil an egg without supervision.”

Jo raised a brow, but her smile was bemused as she turned to Benny. “Anything for you?”

“Nah, darlin’. I’m good,” he said. But sensing the unspoken request in her eyes when she glanced at Dean, Benny straightened and raised from his seat. “But I’ll be back. Need’a hit the head.”

Dean internally sighed as Benny left him alone at the bar. Or, well, relatively alone. Jo lingered in front of him to wash and dry out a few glasses. The air between them was stiff, and a little awkward.

Dean’s thoughts shifted back to his brother then; while he still couldn’t believe Eileen had wrangled his gangly Sasquatch of a brother into going dancing, Dean was happy for him. Truly and sincerely. Sam deserved having someone who softened him, made him break away from his endless cases and have some fun.

Dean could also admit, if only to himself, that he was maybe a little jealous. Sam had something good with his girl. Something real.

Dean had carpet burn.

“So, how’s studying going?” he asked Jo. He couldn’t stand awkward silences. “Still planning on giving your mom a heart attack when you get into the Police Academy?”

Jo’s blue eyes flicked up to his. She brushed a coil of blond hair behind her ear after she finished drying a glass, and a smile raised the corner of her lips.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I gave her something to yell about,” she quipped. “But since you asked…my exam is in three months.”

“Good,” Dean nodded. “You’ve got time. Study your ass off. Keep up the conditioning routine I gave you, and you’ll be set. Just don’t forget the strength training. Very important.”

“I got it,” she said, this time with a brighter smile. “Some old firefighter gave me some pointers.”

Dean tilted his beer at her accusingly.

“Hey, don’t pin that old shit on me yet. Benny’s got more mileage than I do…”

He considered her then, after briefly looking down at the counter.

“What?” she said.

He kept his lips tight. “Nothin’.”

“No, Dean. What?” Jo pressed. “You want to say something. Say it.”

He blew out a breath and shook his head.  

“Ellen’s not the only one who’s gonna worry about you on the job, that’s all,” he said. Jo flickered at a rueful frown.

“That’s ironic,” she said. “I can handle myself, Dean. Something you so often seem to forget.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he shot back. His hand tightened around his beer.

Jo’s face fell into irritation, mostly to cover up the hurt he saw buried deep behind her eyes. She gave him some relief by glancing away from him.

“And this is why we didn’t work out,” she muttered. Sighing through her nose, her eyes met his again. “You know what I hate, more than anything? People worrying.”

Dean carded his fingers through his hair, his brows knitting together in aggravation.

“Yeah, well, maybe they have good reason to,” he said. He could’ve predicted the way she tightened up. “And if I remember right, you did your fair share of hand-wringing the next time I responded to a fire on the job.”

He knew it was a low blow. But his point was made, and he fully expected the anger in Jo’s tight frown. They’d dated for a few weeks, mostly in secret.

That had been enough for Ellen to blow her top. Not because she had anything against Dean…just his job: at the very same firehouse her late husband had once served.

So Dean had backed off. He’d ultimately felt he had to end it. And clearly, Jo still resented him for it.

Slowly, however, the fire in her eyes dimmed. Her finger tapped on her side of the bar counter.

“You think I don’t worry anymore just because we’re not together?” she asked him. 

Dean didn’t have a good answer for her. So his gaze fell to his nearly empty beer.

But he was even more relieved when Benny finally got back from the bathroom, or wherever he’d fucked off to for the past few minutes.

He did seem to know that he was interrupting a rather tense moment. Seeing as neither Dean nor Jo wanted to break the silence, Benny supposed it fell on him.

He reclaimed his seat and raised a smile up at Jo.

“I think I’m ready for the next round,” he said, glancing at Dean’s soured mood. “Two whiskeys, please, Joanna.”

Jo treated Benny with a half-smile. He was the only one besides her mother who called her Joanna (and got away with it). After one last look at Dean, she reached over for the Jim Beam.

You met Andréa at the bar in your own car, just in case you needed to dip out early to check on Grandpa George. He was happy to see you going out.

“You’re pretty as a doll, sweetheart,” he’d said, patting your cheek after you kissed his goodbye.

The thought made you smile, even though you thought you were dressed casually in your dark wash jeans and blouse. When Andréa met you outside the bar, she nodded in approval.

“Good. I like the hint of sexy,” she said, plucking at the sweetheart neckline of your top. You rolled your eyes and tried to cover up the cleavage a little, but she batted at your hand.

“No, no. Leave your professionalism at work,” she said. “Tonight, you’re going to relax and have some fun.”

It was hard to think about loosening up when you were literally getting belittled and threatened at work…but you supposed she had a point. You always had to be put together. You had to be sharp, because this world wouldn’t hand you anything on a silver platter.

And not to mention, you couldn’t just think about yourself. You also had to provide and take care of your grandfather too. He was the only family you had left, and you were it for him too…

But you took in a slow, deep breath. Tonight, you could have a couple of drinks with your friend. You could just be yourself, with no responsibilities other than not getting too drunk to drive yourself home later.

So with a sigh, you smiled and linked your arm with Andréa as you headed inside the Roadhouse.

It looked kind of divey from the outside, a worn-looking brown building with a faded red sign. But inside it was all dark wood and leather barstools and rows of soft lighting overhead.

There were records displayed on the wall; Prince’s Purple Rain, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, and David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, among others. Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” played on the wall speakers.

There were several tables, both high top and regular four-seaters, as well as a long bar that spanned the far wall, where rows and rows of liquor were showcased. You followed Andréa’s lead to the bar, where you took a seat at the far end and tried to feel like you belonged here. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to a place like this.

“This is nice,” she leaned over into your ear to say. “Next time my cousin should meet us here. She’s a handful, but I think you’d like her.”

You agreed with a smile. “If she’s anything like you, I think I’m well trained to handle your brand of insanity.”

Andréa leveled you with a playfully mocking look.

“Ah, you’ve got jokes tonight. Okay.” She waved over the blonde bartender.

“Hi, ladies,” she greeted. “I’m Jo. What’re we starting off with tonight?”

Before you could order for yourself, Andréa grabbed your arm and spoke over you.

“Do you have absinthe?” she asked.

Your eyes widened. “What?! I’m not drinking that—”

“Sure do,” Jo replied in amusement.

“Great,” said Andréa. You didn’t like her sly grin. “She’ll have an Aunt Roberta. I’ll have a vodka cranberry.”

“What the hell is an Aunt Roberta?” you asked.

Jo listed the ingredients on her fingers. “A nice molotov of brandy, vodka, gin, blackberry liqueur, and of course, absinthe.”

Jesus Christ. You shot Andréa a glare, even though you were trying to dim your smile.

“Are you trying to chill me out or fucking end me?” you asked.

Andréa smirked. “Whatever it takes.”

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded your agreement. Jo’s smile remained as she went to prepare your drinks. Meanwhile, your eyes wandered as you once again took in your surroundings.

Really is a cool place, you thought. And it was busy without being overbearingly crowded. There were even a few seats between you and the rest of the patrons at the bar. Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

AN: *rubs hands together* It begins. 😏

Lol how'd you like Dean's little moment with the reader at the firehouse? Plus the introduction of the rest of our cast!

(And a possible serial killer on the loose?) Though sorry about Nick. He's a douchecanoe.

Next Time:

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said.

Keep Reading: PART 3

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

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[multifandomsimagine]

Author's Note: It's still the 10th where I am but I know it's already the 11th where you are so, happy birthday to the best mutual ever ❤️

Imagine the guys making you breakfast for your birthday

— Birthday Present #1 for @cantstoptheimagines —

Of the three, Luke was definitely the worst cook in the group. For one, he had never really had to cook before when he was still living with his parents; they were the ones who made sure that he had a hearty breakfast and a filling dinner each day. If Luke had his way, he would live off of Hot Pockets and Tostino's, something quick and easy to make so he could spend more time on music.

Alex was a decent cook. While he wouldn't burn down the kitchen when making himself a bowl of cereal, all he could really do was make simple meals: a grilled cheese, an omelet, mac and cheese. Much like Luke, Alex's parents would cook his meals for him but he did have to rely on himself more after things got tense when he came out to them.

Compared to the other two, Reggie was basically Emeril Lagasse. With money being tight at home, he was left by himself as soon as he was able to operate the stove. His parents spent so much time working - and arguing - and Reggie was left to fend for himself when he got home from school. With spatula in hand and having watched every episode of How to Boil Water and Essence of Emeril, Reggie was a master in the kitchen.

It was why the trio had decided that Reggie would take the lead in your birthday breakfast with Alex as his sous chef and Luke as the kitchen porter though the best-laid plans often went astray with the group.

Though the guys know you're a heavy sleeper and never get out of bed before ten in the morning, they don't want to risk raising their voices on the off chance your birthday is the day you decided to be a light sleeper. However, it was really hard to remember to not yell when Alex or Reggie caught sight of Luke's "improvements."

"Why are the flames so high?" Alex whisper-shouted, barely remembering to lower his voice as he dropped the knife he was using to cut up some fruit to rush over to the stove, turning the dial from high to low.

Luke lets out an offended "Hey!" but the blond ignores him as he's quick to snatch the spatula from Luke and scoops up the pancake from the pan. He moves to drop it onto the stack of pancakes, dropping it into the stack of pancakes Luke had already made.

"Hey! I was doing a good job!" Luke huffs out, gesturing to the four pancakes on the plates.

This is when Reggie walks over, having finished plating the breakfast scramble he had been in charge of.

"I did everything that you guys told me." Luke begins to list off the steps on his fingers. "I put butter on the pan, ladled a spoonful of batter onto the pan, checked to see that the side was brown before flipping it over, and made sure the other side was brown too before plating them."

"Not everything," Alex countered. "The flames were too high. Why'd you raise the heat?"

"I wanted to help out with the other stuff so I raised it so the pancakes would cook faster."

Reggie grabs a fork from the utensil drawer and moves to the plate of pancakes, cutting a piece off from the top pancake. Instead of being met with the sight of a light fluffy interior, the trio watches as batter oozes out of the pancake.

Luke snatches the fork from the bassist's hand and begins cutting into the other pancakes. Except for the first pancake that Alex had made as an example for Luke, they all ooze out batter and the three are left to stare at half-cooked pancakes.

"The pan was too hot. The outside of the pancake cooked before the inside could." Reggie sighs. "And now we have gooey pancakes."

Alex picks up the bowl of batter and takes a look before letting out a groan. "And only enough batter for like one pancake." He shows the bowl to the others.

"We could make more, right?" Luke runs a hand through his hair.

Reggie shakes his head. "I used the last of the eggs for the scramble."

"So all we have right now is the breakfast scramble, a bowl of fruit, and a cup of juice."

Luke's eyes dart around the kitchen, trying to find a solution. His eyes light up when he spots the house keys and his wallet before maneuvering his way to them. "I can buy more. Daniella’s sells eggs, right?" He raises his wallet up. "We have like two hours before [Name] wakes up. I'll be back in like fifteen minutes. I won't be the reason she starts off her birthday without her favorite breakfast."

[letsgetrowdy43]

Domestic bliss—

Quinn Hughes x reader

Request: Quinn asking his girlfriend to move in with him

Quinn had been on a two-week roadie, and by the end of the second week, he wanted nothing more than to fly back to his apartment, to her, so he could be held in the comfort of his bed.

When the time came and he was home, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door, he was met with the reality of his dark and cold apartment. His house looked the same and when he had left, it was untouched and unloved in his absence and he hated it.

Quinn sent her a text asking her to come over for the night as he entered his bathroom to shower, the stress of the away games rolling off of his back with every step into his apartment, making it a ritual to leave the stress of work at the door, not bringing it into his safe space.

A soft smile took over his face as he opened his cabinet mirror to see her toothbrush in the cup, and many other little self-care items she had left in their designated spot in his bathroom. He loved that she took up room in his life, loved that he could go into every room in his apartment and see reminders of her, she was a constant presence and he loved it. Almost as much as he loved her.

She got in the door just as he got out of the shower, a shy smile on her lips as he walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. "Hey dove," his cheeks grew flushed as he walked into the kitchen where she was leaning up against the counter, a growing grin on his face as she pulled him in for a hug, "missed you so much, you have no idea." "I think I have some idea," she whispered back, taking a deep breath and inhaling the smell of soft eucalyptus radiating off of him as she pulled away, she took his face into her hands and planted a kiss right on his lips, "now get dressed, I wanna make dinner and watch a movie."

He made a bee-line to his room to grab some clothes, a warm smile on his face as she trailed right behind him. Quinn dug up some pyjamas for himself and her, handing her an old shirt to change into as well, his eyes wandering as she stripped herself of her work shirt, a smirk on his lips as she caught his stare. "Creep," she mumbled as he shook his head. "Just admiring how perfect you are," he shrugged as she pulled the shirt over her head. The look of his old Michigan shirt on her made him weak in the knees, adoring how heavenly she looked, the fabric showing just the right amount of thigh, she was honestly an angel Her laugh was like music to his ears as she kissed both of his cheeks, her heart pounding as his hands gently squeezed her torso, never getting used to how electrifying his touch was on her skin.

She then stripped herself of her jeans, "can you grab me the shorts I left here last month," another example of her life overlapping with his, the thought of her clothes mixed in with his made him feel a little dizzy, the domesticity of it all was perfect. "And what if I don't want to?" he asked, a hint of suggestion in his voice as she rolled her eyes at him. "You want me to make dinner in my underwear?" He looked at her with a knowing look, "I wouldn't object." She let out a huff of fake annoyance, "fine," she grinned before making her way to the kitchen.

She stood over the stove, a grin on her face as she began making breakfast for dinner, his favourite comfort food. He loved how she just knew things about him like that, it made him feel all bubbly inside, heart-melting even.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her torso, head dipping in the crook of her neck as she started the scrambled eggs, "Dove, I think I'm obsessed with you," he mumbled into her skin, hands gripping her his shirt. Her face grew hot at the confession, but she played it off as if it had no effect whatsoever, "sounds a bit like a 'you' problem Q." "It is a problem, and a growing one, I can't get enough of you," he placed a wet kiss on the exposed skin of her neck, a chill running up her spine at the purest form of love he was displaying.

"I'm gonna burn the eggs if you keep it up." "Burn them for all I care, just need you," he grinned at the vibrations her laugh sent through him. "You can have me all you want the moment you're fed and we are in bed watching a movie" she reasoned as he let out a pretend groan and returned to unpacking his away bag.

Once dinner was done and eaten Quinn had taken it upon himself to load up the dishwasher, not wanting to put in the energy of hand washing, as she readied herself for bed and picked out the movie for the night.

She laid basically on top of Quinn as he ran his fingers through her hair, limbs a tangled mess as they watched whatever comedy she had decided to play. "You played really well this trip, you're getting really close to beating that record," she grinned into his skin. "You've been keeping up with my stats?" he asked, voice hoarse from the tired state he was in. "Of course, I watch every game," She moved up on the bed to be face-to-face with him, "I think I'm obsessed with you," she quoted him with a grin as he leaned forward to peck her on the lips.

He stared at her for a second, eyes tracing over her features, words on the tip of his tongue as her fingers ran up and down the length of his arm. "Y'know I was gone for two weeks and you were all I could think about," he whispered, his thumb gently running over the apples of her cheek, "and how I couldn’t wait to get home to you, I've never felt that way about anyone before."

She blinked, her eyes full of adoration as she smiled at his confession, "I missed you an unhealthy amount, always forget how much the distance sucks," her hand held the wrist of his that was cradling her face. "I'm sorry" "Don't apologize for living out your dreams," she shook her head slightly, "besides if you weren't you we never would've met, and I would never have the bragging rights that I have a hot superstar defenseman boyfriend, what's the fun in that?" He laughed as she leaned forward and kissed just below his eye, "I never really believed in soulmates, but if life had been different, I still think we would've made our way to each other," he mumbled, arm looping around her waist to pull her into his chest, chin resting on top of her head, "I would've made sure to find you, in this life, and every other one after it." "You're such a sap," he laughed again, her lips placed gentle open-mouthed kisses to his arm.

"All week I was itching to get home, and when I got here everything felt so wrong." "Why?" "You weren't here, my house was lacking my real home, you," he said truthfully, Her eyes began to water at his words, head dizzy from the amount of love she was holding for him. "And it made me realize that I don't think I ever want to come home to a house if you're not living with me in it," she pulled away to look at him again, his crooked smile found its way onto his expression, and his eyes were filled with some sort of relief from the revelation.

She returned his smile with a dopey grin, "are you asking me to move in?" "Only if you want to Dove, if you're not ready, that's okay, but I'd love to know that when I get home you'll be here waiting for me." The girl placed a kiss on the hand intertwined with her, "I'll always be here for you, for however long you'll have me," she admitted, a bit embarrassed by how her eyes had begun to water again and face filled with bush at her confession. "So forever sounds good to you?" she nodded as he dipped his head down to capture her lips in a slow kiss, not one filled with hunger, or desperation, no, one that showed his love for her. It was tender and caring, and so full of emotion that even his eyes began to fill with tears.

And in that moment he knew that this wasn't just about having some sort of domestic bliss with her, this was a future in the making, a whole life flashing before his eyes as her hands gently tugged at his damp curls. Melodic laughter left her lips as he broke away for a second to whisper a short ‘I love you’ before pulling her as close as humanly possible in to his chest.

-

-

-

[fantasyescapes17]

Manners (Part 2, Final)

Viscount Joshua Hong is by far the most eligible bachelor in London. Rich, handsome, and renowned for his excellent manners and refined tastes. Young woman would kill for the chance to be the Viscount's chosen bride. But nobody can quite determine which of the young ladies he prefers, and you are beginning to have your doubts. Is the Viscount really as gentlemanly as the ton seems to think?

Genre: Joshua Hong x Female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are a sibling to all the Lees (Woozi, DK, Dino) so your last name is Lee but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 5.2k+

Part 1

Series Masterlist [I would highly recommend reading the earlier stories in this series, Patience, and Candle, before this one but it's not strictly necessary.]

You had never been formally courted before, and therefore had no inkling of what to expect from your new courtship with Viscount Hong. Indeed, you had scarcely even processed the events of the night before. The entire evening- right from Viscount Hongs' unannounced arrival up until his proposal of marriage- felt rather like an intense fever dream.

You were awoken from a fitful sleep early that morning by your maid. 

“Miss- oh miss, you must  awaken, there has been a delivery for you!” she cried frantically. 

You sat up in bed and rubbed your tired eyes. Lily and Nessie ran into your room in their nightgowns, giggling as they climbed up onto the bedcovers. They were followed by two maids struggling to carry an enormous basket of arranged pink and red roses between them. They placed the assortment precariously on your bedside table. 

“What is this?” you asked, confused. 

“A delivery for you miss- there is a card as well.” 

The maid handed you the card and your sisters climbed up behind you eagerly to peek at it. 

“Read it aloud!” Lily ordered, and you had no choice but to take the card into your hands and read out the message written in Viscount Hong’s neat and careful handwriting. 

Miss Lee,

I thought perhaps some flowers would brighten your morning- I hope the events of last night have not caused you too much distress. I did fear that writing to you would be too forward but then again, I believe we can agree that the mistake I have made so far is failing to be forward enough. 

May I persuade you to join me for a ride in the park this evening? If you are concerned about the lack of a chaperone, you may bring Chan- I will ensure an extra horse is available for him. 

Yours, 

Joshua

Lily and Nessie squealed in delight and even the maids were biting back their smiles. Sending flowers and a personalised invitation was a bold and romantic gesture indeed; you could not help the fluttering that arose in your heart. 

It appeared that Viscount Hong meant business. 

—-----------------------------------------

“I did suspect that Joshua might harbour some affection for you,” Jihoon admitted over breakfast. Your father was eating in his study, leaving you and your siblings to speak freely about the previous night's events in the dining room. “He always asks after you whenever he sees me or Seokmin.” 

Seokmin agreed, mouth full of scrambled eggs. “He does ask about you often, now that I think of it, but I thought he was only being polite. The Viscount is always so well-mannered.” 

You frowned at your brother. “Unlike you, Seokmin. Please swallow your food before you speak.” 

“It’s only us siblings here,” Seokmin protested.  

“You should be setting a better example as a gentleman for Chan.” 

Chan scoffed before sipping at his tea. “Please don’t insult me, sister. I know better than to emulate anything Seokmin does.” 

They began to argue and you did not have the energy or inclination to interrupt them. The gravity of your situation was slowly beginning to set in. You still harboured a certain girlish pleasure at the thought of Viscount Hong being in love with you- but you were also forced to begin thinking about what this proposal from a nobleman so superior in station to you would mean for you and your family. 

Jihoon noticed your expression. 

“Are you all right, sister?” he asked gently as Seokmin and Chan continued to argue. 

You turned to your elder brother with a hesitant smile. Jihoon was certainly the most mature of your siblings, and you trusted him implicitly.

"Do you think it will be alright? The entire ton has been watching to see whom the Viscount will marry. I cannot even begin to think of  how many young ladies must have their sights set on him. The thought of the gossip alone…"

Jihoon smiled kindly. "I did not think you were the sort of woman to be easily disturbed by gossip, sister."

"I-I am not, but you must admit that people will talk about it and you know that everyone holds him in exceedingly high regard while I am…" you bit your lip and looked at your brother, hoping he would understand your fears. 

Jihoon sighed and nodded. "I won't lie. It is an unexpected proposal and will certainly generate some surprise among the ton."

"What should I do?"

"I am sure word has not spread just yet. You should speak to Joshua about your fears."

You sighed and nodded. Perhaps you should. 

—--------------------------------------------------

It was a warm and pleasant afternoon; perfect for a ride in the park. Unfortunately, this meant that many other members of the ton had made similar plans. You were uncomfortably aware of the curious stares of some young ladies who passed by you on the walking trail. 

The Viscount was already waiting for you and Chan with the horses, but you had to stand aside and wait for a few moments as Chan monopolised the Viscount's attention. Once your younger brother's questions had been answered and he had taken his pick of the horses, the Viscount carefully took the reins of the horse you would ride and turned to you with a smile. 

"May I help you up, Miss Lee?"

Joshua stepped closer to you when you nodded. You tried not to show how flustered you felt when he gently took your hand and placed it on his shoulder, giving you the boost you needed to push yourself up onto the horse and seat yourself side-saddle. 

"Are you comfortable?" he asked with a caring smile. 

"Uh-yes, yes thank you very much," you replied. 

The Viscount and Chan each mounted their own horses. The three of you began a slow-paced ride around the park, but Chan could not resist pushing the purebred horse for a little more speed. 

"Chan! Don't go far, stay within sight!" you called after your brother as he went further ahead. Your brother merely lifted a hand to signal that he'd heard you. 

The Viscount brought his horse up to trot gently alongside yours. He was a skilled rider. 

"I… I received the flowers you sent me this morning," you began awkwardly in an attempt to make some conversation with Joshua. "Thank you. They were beautiful."

He nodded. "I am glad you liked them."

"I did. Very much."

"Have I made you uncomfortable, Miss Lee?" Joshua asked suddenly. He had a worried smile on his face. 

"N-no, why would you think so?"

"You seem to be avoiding my eyes."

You cleared your throat. Why did Joshua have to notice? It was true. You couldn't look at him, and not only because he was extremely handsome and his kind eyes caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You were simply too aware of the people watching you- there was a group of young ladies near the trees that gaped at you openly, and another pair of gentlemen who had been casting glances at you since Viscount Hong had helped you up onto your horse. 

"It… it is nothing," you said quickly. 

Joshua sighed. "Miss Lee. Please. The intention behind this courtship is to make you more comfortable with me and to trust me. If there is anything that troubles you-"

"There are too many eyes on us," you blurted out. 

Joshua was silent for a long moment. 

"I see. I've made another mistake," he said quietly. 

You turned to him with wide eyes. "No, not at all-"

"I have. It was quite foolish of me to ask you to come here with just your brother and no proper chaperone- and our courtship is not yet common knowledge to the ton. I failed to take your feelings into consideration, and-"

You felt miserable and rushed to correct him. "Viscount Hong, please, I never meant to suggest that you were responsible for this-"

"But I am responsible."

You shook your head and began to explain that it wasn't his fault, that it was your own insecurities and fears that were making you uncomfortable. But Joshua had already set his lips in a straight line and spurred his horse forward to catch up with Chan, leaving you behind. 

This was not a good start. 

Not at all. 

—-------------------------------------------

The ride at the park ended earlier than it should have; Chan was vocally disappointed but you were too mortified by the entire incident to object and Joshua was firm in sending you home safely escorted by his servants. 

Still; the damage was done. 

Word of your potential courtship with Joshua Hong had spread among the ton and you were faced with the full extent of the situation not three days later, at the ball hosted by the Hessingtons. 

Joshua had sent you flowers every single morning leading up to the ball, and had even written to apologise for his thoughtless invitation to ride in the park. He requested you to reserve him a dance at the Hessingtons' ball. 

You had, of course, accepted. 

The reality that this would be the first, formal social event where almost every single person in the room would have their eyes on you was clear from the moment you made your entrance with Jihoon and Seokmin. 

You had become accustomed to blending into the background at balls- Seokmin was lively and charming, hence rarely had trouble obtaining his desired female dance partners. Jihoon was more reserved when it came to women and dancing. But he had many friends among the ton and was often in the company of other gentlemen engaging in conversations about business. You had always been content to sit at the sidelines, accepting the offer of a dance when you received one and mingling with other ladies when they approached you.

But a lady being courted by Viscount Joshua Hong did not have the luxury of being ignored by the ton. 

“Miss Lee!” cried one of the more obnoxious gossip-mongers, Mrs. Patty, as soon as she found you alone at a bench. “You must come and dispel these strange rumours about you. Is it true that you are being courted by our lovely Viscount Hong?” 

You hesitated. “Erm…”

“Ha!” Mrs. Patty cried triumphantly, turning to her companions. She understood your hesitation to be a confirmation of her beliefs. “I knew there was no chance that little Miss Lee could capture our Viscount. I have been quite observant of his attention to the Duchess of Graham of late and I believe it is only a matter of time until they announce their engagement.” 

One of the other ladies tutted with disapproval. “But then Miss Lee must explain how she came to be riding in the park with Viscount Hong!” 

Your response was interrupted by the sound of a strong female voice behind you. 

“Miss Lee is not required to explain anything,” a young lady said sharply as she took your arm. You recognised her immediately, despite never having conversed with her before. 

This was Miss Hong. Viscount Hong’s infamous younger sister. 

"Miss Hong-" you began to greet her. 

"Come, Miss Lee. I have saved a seat for you near the refreshment tables, and you must sit with me until the dancing begins," Miss Hong said simply. 

You allowed her to lead you away from the gossip-mongers. 

You knew what everyone in London society said about Miss Hong. She was praised for being the most skilled pianoforte player among the ton, and it was well established that there was no young lady who could rival the musical talents of the Viscount's sister. 

But Miss Hong also had a reputation for being excessively fashionable, vain, and quick-tempered. While her status and wealth prevented anyone from saying so to her face, Miss Hong did not enjoy the same universal approval of society that her older brother did. 

"Miss Hong," you said gently. "Thank you for interrupting on my behalf. I really did not know how to answer their questions."

She brushed off your gratitude. "You need not bother about Mrs. Patty. That odious woman has been trying to make my life miserable since I was a child. I am not surprised she attempted to sink her claws into you."

You smiled awkwardly. "I see."

"I have been looking forward to meeting this elusive Miss Lee that seems to have the power to make my brother miserable," she said. You were shocked by her words, but when you turned to look at her, she was giggling. 

"I-I am so sorry, I really have no intention of upsetting the Viscount," you tried to explain. 

"Oh Miss Lee, you are such a sweetheart!" Miss Hong said with a carefree laugh. "I meant that my normally suave brother makes the most foolish mistakes around you and then renders himself miserable afterwards. You needn't apologise to me, I find the whole affair quite entertaining."

You relaxed a little. You had been anxious about how Viscount Hong's family would react to your courtship but, judging from Miss Hong's behaviour, she at least did not openly disapprove of you. 

"I warned Joshua he was being hasty about the proposal and that he should have someone speak to you first to assess your reaction," Miss Hong continued as she gestured for you to join her on the bench. "But he said it was not appropriate and that naturally he had to seek your father's permission before speaking to you."

You nodded. "I see…"

Miss Hong gave you a sympathetic smile. "My brother is kind but he is still a man. Society is more forgiving towards his type. He does not understand the fears and pressures that we face as young ladies."

You felt the need to defend your Viscount. 

"He has certainly been very thoughtful and considerate towards me-"

Miss Hong laughed. "Has he? Or perhaps you are blinded by your love for him."

"But the entire ton agrees that the Viscount has the most excellent manners, and-"

"Oh," Miss Hong said scornfully. "The ton. Miss Lee, I am sorry to say that if you intend to marry my brother, you must learn to take the opinions of the ton with a pinch of salt. Being a Viscountess is not an easy job. And it is certainly not one for a weak or feeble-minded woman."

Her words struck you like a blow to the face. 

A Viscountess. You would be a Viscountess if you were to marry Joshua. It suddenly occurred to you how much power and authority came from a title like that, and the strength and poise with which women carrying such coveted titles conducted themselves. 

You had certainly never seen a Viscountess who stumbled over her words in front of gossiping old women. 

Miss Hong noticed your sudden silence. 

"I apologise if I have offended you, Miss Lee," she said quickly. "It was not my intention to call you weak or feeble-minded. I am sure you are neither. But if I may be so bold as to make a suggestion, purely coming from my goodwill as your potential future sister-in-law…"

You nodded at her. You did not know if Miss Hong was as vain or quick-tempered as the ton claimed. But in this confusing reality, she was the only person willing to tell you the truth. 

 "Please do," you said. 

"You should use this courtship wisely. Not only to consider whether you wish to marry my brother… but also whether you wish to become a Viscountess. If you choose to marry Joshua, you should carry his title as a matter of pride, not as a burden. That is the only way you can be happy together."

Oh. 

You took a deep breath as you considered her words and then turned to Miss Hong, clasping her hand in yours.

"Thank you," you told her quietly. "For your honesty."

She smiled- a sudden, genuine smile that was rare for the fashionable young debutante. 

"Thank you for not being offended by it," Miss Hong replied. "Now, I regret to inform you that the dancing has begun and my brother approaches to claim your company for the first dance."

You nodded before turning to see that Joshua had indeed appeared from the crowd with his usual handsome smile. 

"Miss Lee," the Viscount greeted you warmly, offering you his hand. He raised an eyebrow at his sister. "I hope my sister has not been troubling you."

"Not at all!" you said quickly. "She has been very kind."

Miss Hong stood and smiled as she smoothed down the front of her fashionably decorated ball-gown. "Excuse me- I have promised this dance to Mr. Hessington," she said lightly before disappearing into the crowd. 

The Viscount turned to you. 

"And I believe you have promised this dance to me," he reminded you with a smile. 

"So I have."

You allowed Joshua to lead you out onto the floor for a pleasant waltz. The dance was not very demanding- and it allowed you both the chance to have a much-needed conversation. 

"I do hope my sister did not trouble you," Joshua said slowly. "She is known to be rather…"

"Honest?" you asked. 

"I was going to say impudent," he replied with a chuckle. "Although I dare say she usually means well."

"No, not at all. She helped me put things in perspective. I will admit that everything about our courtship is… new to me. I cannot help but have some fears and concerns about it all, and… I… I do not want you to think that I am ungrateful for the flowers and letters because I really am not, you have been very thoughtful and kind, I-I only…"

You were beginning to stumble over your words and your cheeks turned hot. Joshua's hand squeezed your gloved one reassuringly. 

"Tell me," he pressed you softly. "I would like nothing more than to hear your feelings."

"I wish we could have a conversation," you admitted slowly. "Only the two of us. Without- without any interruptions or eavesdropping chaperones so that-that we could have an honest discussion about the future and what this really means for each of us."

Joshua's expression was gentle. 

"Of course, Miss Lee. I agree entirely. I think we have stumbled blindly through this courtship without understanding each other. An open discussion would certainly help."

You nodded. "Well, yes. Open but…" you cleared your throat and glanced around you anxiously. "Well. Discreet, if you understand my meaning. Since we are not officially engaged."

He chuckled. 

"Of course. I understand perfectly. Would you do me the honour of coming to the assembly rooms on Thursday evening? I believe I can arrange for our… discreet discussion there."

You smiled and nodded. 

"Yes. Yes, that sounds wonderful."

"Excellent."

—---------------------------------------------------

Viscount Hong was a man of his word. 

You arrived at the assembly rooms on Thursday; Seokmin had been glad to accompany you as he had a bet to settle at the card tables with Mr. Yoon Jeonghan. 

Upon your arrival, the Viscount offered you his arm and requested your company for a walk around the gardens. You accepted- after all, you were now openly courting him, what harm could a walk about the gardens do? To your surprise, Joshua led you towards a thick copse of trees at the end of the path that provided complete cover and privacy from the rest of the gardens and the assembly rooms. 

"Shall we speak here?" Viscount Hong asked you. 

You nodded hesitantly. "Yes- I am shocked that you discovered this, it is such a private little corner."

Joshua looked slightly embarrassed. "The spot was recommended to me by Mr. Kim Mingyu. He is rather more… experienced than I am when it comes to finding ways to do things that society may not approve of."

You giggled. "You mean he is a rake."

"He admits it quite openly," Joshua agreed. 

"And we will not be interrupted- nobody will accidentally stumble upon us here?" you asked nervously.

"It is unlikely. In any case, I have asked Mr. Kim to watch over the garden path from the balcony. If anyone begins to walk in this direction, he will send us a warning," Joshua replied. 

You were flattered that Joshua would go to so much effort to indulge your simple request for a private conversation. 

"Thank you," you told him honestly. 

"It is the least I could do, Miss Lee. I understand that I have thrown quite a wrench in your life this past week. You have me quite flustered- I seem to repeatedly make poor judgements in your regard, and I will strive to remedy that."

You looked up to see the genuine regret in his eyes. It was still so strange to you that the Viscount should care so much about you and you could not help but feel a warmth towards him. 

"Viscount Hong, please do not say so. You have not made any mistakes, really."

Joshua reached his hands out hesitantly towards yours. You realised that he was seeking permission to hold your hands- and you offered them to him freely. 

His warm hands clasped yours. 

"May I go first?" he asked. 

You nodded.

"You asked me the other night why I wanted to marry you," Joshua began. He spoke slowly- as though every word was being carefully considered. "I will admit I was not prepared for that question, and I did a poor job of answering it. Will you allow me to answer it again?"

"Of course."

"Over the last year, ever since it became clear that the time had come for me to marry- I have met and considered many young women of my acquaintance. They all have their charms, of course, but I found that only your charms made a consistent and lasting impact on me."

You looked at him with surprise. 

"My charms? I must insist you tell me what these are, Viscount Hong, since I am entirely unaware of them," you laughed as your cheeks slowly turned hot.

Joshua chuckled. "I would be glad to elaborate. I know your brothers well, Miss Lee, and I am familiar with the difficulties that your family has faced. I have watched you bear them with quiet dignity. You have a strength and maturity that is rare among young women of your age- indeed, rare for any person at all. Even in the face of my hasty proposal, you had the presence of mind to stop me and question me. You are kind and generous; but not a woman who is easily swayed. That is what makes me confident that you would be a perfect choice for a life partner, and makes me want more than anything in the world to be your husband."

Your heart swelled. It was strange; you had expected some vague words from him about love and admiration- something along the lines of what you read in novels. 

But Joshua's answer gave you more confidence than any declaration of love could have. 

You now understood that his proposal, as sudden as it may have seemed to you, was not a rash or hasty decision on his part. Joshua had watched you, considered you, understood you… and still chosen you. 

"I… don't know if I deserve such praise," you told him softly. "I have not behaved very maturely this past week."

"What makes you say that?" he asked gently. 

"I have been selfish. My fears and insecurities got the better of me, and I worried about the gossip that our courtship would create and what people would think. How they would react to you proposing to someone like me."

Joshua shook his head. "Those are reasonable fears. And I have not done a very good job of protecting you from the ton's speculations."

You took a deep breath and looked up at him. 

"You do not need to protect me."

Joshua looked startled. "Miss Lee…"

"I have had time to think about what I want from our courtship, and what I can offer.  Entering into this with the expectation that I should be protected from the hardships involved is foolish. If we are to be married, then I will be a Viscountess. I cannot live my life fearing the opinions of the ton."

Joshua smiled. Your face had taken on a determined expression. It was the first time since the night of his proposal that you looked like yourself again- without that fear and anxiety looming behind your eyes. 

"You have nothing to fear from the ton," he assured you. "I will always be with you."

"Your sister said something to me that struck me deeply," you told him. "She said that if I was to become a Viscountess, then I should carry the title as a matter of pride and not as a burden."

Joshua sighed. "My sister has a strange relationship with pride."

"Perhaps so, but I think there is some truth in what she said," you replied. "It boils down to this… I would be proud to call myself your wife. And as long as you would be proud to call yourself my husband, then I do not think that there is anything society can do to ruin our happiness."

Joshua's eyes twinkled. His grip on your hands pulled you closer to him- you were mere inches away from him now and you could not tear your eyes away from his. 

"Dangerous words, Miss Lee," he warned. 

"Oh?"

"You are only making me fall more in love with you."

Your cheeks turned hot but you smiled up at him. "And you are treading dangerous waters, Viscount Hong. We are alone here, without a chaperone. I thought you were a gentleman?"

Joshua nodded. His eyes briefly flickered down to your lips. "I am. Will you allow me to kiss you?"

You flushed. "We are not even engaged…"

"I will stop if you ask me to."

"... Do not stop."

Joshua's right arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your hands naturally placed themselves on his shoulders as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. 

It was a delicate kiss; one filled with passion and longing. Joshua was careful with you. One of his hands cupped your cheek as he pulled away slightly. He pressed his forehead to yours and gave you a small smile. 

"Have I made another mistake?" he asked breathlessly. 

You felt light-headed from the kiss but you managed to look up at him with a small pout. 

"You know perfectly well that you have not," you scolded him. 

"I had to check- my judgement always fails me around you. You cloud my senses," Joshua whispered. "You are the only woman that can make me doubt my own actions."

You looked up at the handsome man in front of you with adoration.

"I would never want you to doubt yourself," you told him firmly. 

"Then shall I kiss you again?"

"Please."

Joshua kissed you again- and again, and again, until you were both entangled in a mess of lips and tongues and limbs, allowing your bodies to express the adoration that words could not satisfy. In your heated whispers between soft, sensuous kisses, Viscount Hong became Joshua, and Joshua became my love. 

—---------------------------------------------------------

The passionate courtship that ensued had the ton in an uproar. 

It was all over the gossip sheets, and on the lips of every member of the ton: Miss Lee had cast a spell on Viscount Joshua Hong and he was absolutely smitten with her. 

Joshua made no effort to abate the gossip. Instead, flowers and letters arrived at your doorstep every single morning. Some days he would send you presents; pretty little hand mirrors, ribbons, satin gloves…. always accompanied by love notes stating how they made him think of you. (He even once sent you a set of silk garters that was almost opened by Nessie. You scolded him thoroughly and his gifts remained family-appropriate thereafter). 

Joshua danced with you-and only you- at every ball. It caused an immense displeasure among the ladies of the ton and Mrs. Patty even saw fit to complain to you on one occasion. 

"How unfortunate that Viscount Hong will not look at the Duchess anymore," Mrs. Patty bemoaned openly to you. "She would have suited him so well- so rich and with her own title."

"Yes," you said to the older woman calmly. "It is unfortunate indeed that Viscount Hong has no need to marry for riches or titles. He shall have to settle with marrying for love, instead."

Mrs. Patty gave you a sharp look but you heard no more from her on the subject. 

The whispers were not all pleasant, naturally. Many gossiped about how Viscount Hong was clearly marrying down, how your dowry and station and beauty were so far beneath his. It was painful when these whispers reached your ears- but it was a pain that you would gladly bear for the privilege of being with Joshua. To his credit, Joshua swiftly and politely silenced anything that reached his ears. 

The weeks flew by; and on the 30th day from his initial hasty proposal, Viscount Joshua Hong appeared once more on your doorstep just before suppertime. (This time with notice- Dotty had been able to prepare her venison pie.)

"My father is away on business," you informed Joshua as you led him to the dining room where your siblings were all waiting for supper to be served. "So I am afraid that you will not be able to ask for his permission to  propose to me again."

"How unfortunate," Joshua said with a chuckle as Lily ran up to him and greeted him with a hug. He lifted her into his arms easily and set her down in her seat at the table. "It would be very inappropriate to propose to you without permission- but whose permission shall I seek?"

Chan piped up. "You could ask Jihoon."

Jihoon looked up from his plate with a raised eyebrow. "I would not dare to assume such a monumental responsibility. You will have to seek permission elsewhere."

"Seokmin?" Joshua asked. 

Seokmin shrugged. "Ask me again after supper. I am too hungry to grant any permissions at the moment."

Joshua chuckled. "Chan?"

Chan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I could be persuaded… for the price of an Arabian horse, perhaps?"

"Absolutely not," you said firmly. 

Joshua settled down into his seat and turned to your little sister Lily, who was looking up at him with a big smile and a gap in her teeth. 

"What shall I do, Lily?" Joshua asked her with a mock sigh. "I had hoped to propose to your elder sister tonight, but your father is not in town and none of your brothers will grant me permission."

Lily frowned. "Why do you need permission?"

"It is good manners to seek the permission of a woman's loved ones before making an offer to her."

"Then I shall grant you permission, Viscount Hong! You may marry my sister."

You couldn't hold back your laugh; Nessie giggled and the corner of even Jihoon's lips curved upwards. Joshua gracefully accepted her permission and then turned to you with his usual handsome, charming smile. 

"Well, Miss Lee; what say you? Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" Joshua asked you with a chuckle. Lily looked up at you expectantly with big eyes. 

You smiled back at Joshua. 

"Well, since Lily has granted her permission…"

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, Viscount Hong. I would be honoured to become your wife."

—--------------------------------------------------------

[the-seelie-court-official]

sorry if this is too personal to ask and please feel free to ignore it but i was wondering why is it that you don’t trigger tag? (not trying to do that shitty-not-actually-asking-a-question thing i’m genuinely curious)

there's a couple reasons and some of them are a little tricky to explain, so i ask you (and y'all) to give me the same grace and understanding and benefit of the doubt i try to extend to y'all

gonna break this loosely into bullet points and do some bolding so it's easier for me and my ADHD warriors to parse

i cannot possibly trigger tag Everything that could feasibly be a trigger

which feels unfair to people with 'weird'/uncommon/generally less understood triggers (for example, there was a widespread post a few years back about how someone is triggered by eggs, like scrambled eggs, the breakfast food)

i dont want people to come into my inbox and try to explain their triggers to me-- it can be incredibly stressful for me to hear such personal accounts of trauma

it takes time, energy, and spoons to tag triggers, which i can't consistently maintain, and imo it's better for me to never trigger tag than to be inconsistent about it

this blog is an art piece that plays with the concepts of selfhood, reality, magic, social media, politics, and faerie stories. trigger tagging is simply not part of this art piece

i hope i'm better understood and not pelted with half rotten fruit about this

i love you, i appreciate being asked so kindly

[iskratempestmadness]

Babysitting there kid while mommy’s gone headcanons?

Okay, I'm tired of this, but I think I did it pretty well.

(what I mean by " Mature enough children" are children who have not yet grown up to be called a teenager, children who are under ten years old)

Baki:

- it is not difficult for him to handle a child, but he is still a child himself

- God, he calls his mother every 15 minutes.

"What does he like to eat? ", " Does he need a lunch nap? " , " He wants candy, can he? "and much, much more...

- but he plays with him, walks with him, in general, they have a great time

- even if Hanma leaves the child alone for a short time, he does not take his eyes off him

- however, Baki didn't keep track of him a couple of times, so the kid will tell his mom that Baki cooked for him, they played together, and then Bucky took him down from the tree

- If the child is already more or less an adult, then he goes with him to the amusement park

- in general, it seems to me that the older the child is, the more often Hanma will break the rules with him

- like, "Can't you have ice cream? Forget it, I allow it, the most important thing is not to tell your mom," "What does your mom forbid you to ride this attraction? Let's go for a ride while she's not looking." and all that sort of stuff

- he will probably fight with the kid on the console in the evening

- the older the child, the more Baki behaves like a friend with whom mom asks you not to communicate

- he just wants the child to feel that he is no longer under control and he can do whatever he wants (of course without going beyond the limits)

- but he will also teach the child something necessary

- for example, Baki can teach him how to cook some simple dishes like scrambled eggs. ( Baki is 100% good at cooking, but some of his dishes may be slightly overcooked)

- or Baki will train with the child. Of course, he will give the child less workload than himself, but such a time will be clearly more useful

Hanayama:

- he's doing surprisingly well with the kid

- he has probably already consulted with his mother about what he can and cannot do, when he goes to bed, and so on

- probably Hana doesn't have too much time to play with the child, (and he understands that his appearance to the child may seem a little frightening) so he can gut the Kizaki. - However, this does not mean that Hana shifts all her responsibilities to her assistant.

- he certainly spends time with the child and... he likes it

- constantly monitors the child or Kozaki does it, so Rhea doty can't talk about any emergency situations

- if the child is old enough, he will spend more time with him and he will... more relaxed

- break the rules? He'll just say he didn't know or forgot about it.

- probably goes to the cinema with the child. Imagine Hana lounging in an armchair eating popcorn with a child.

- Later, Kaoru will discuss with him whether he liked what he remembered, whether he liked the characters

- maybe the child will be in Hana's office a couple of times

Katsumi:

- he is one of those who is on the same wavelength as the child

- however, he will be in a difficult position if the child is small. He will probably constantly call to find out what the child likes, whether he needs a quiet hour and the like. ( he is also likely to ask Natsueh for help )

- however, he will try to play and keep an eye on the child properly. (imagine Katsumi riding a child on his back like a horse. He would have been a wonderful young father)

- but if the child is old enough... Ho, ho, they're going to have a great time.

- Break the rules? Pfffff, of course

- probably teach the child to play slot machines... It's going to be a COMPETITION.

- she'll make a bunch of stupid photos with the kid where they spend time together. (send them to the baby's mom later as a photo report of how they spent the day)

- he can (and will) obey the child in some cases. Like, "What? Do you want to go there? Come on," It's just that in some cases he doesn't know how to tell him no... Besides, he thinks it's going to be fun anyway.

Jack:

- Ohh, he's going to have a hard time

- he will postpone training and try to become a good nanny

- if the child is small, then Jack will find out from his mother what he likes, what he should be fed, and so on

- He will find out in advance so that during the departure he will not bother the child's mother.

- he will play with the child and keep a close eye on him, but still it seems to me that Jack's appearance will scare the child a little

- It will be easier for Hanma if the child is old enough

"she'll probably go on a little camping trip with him." (I think Jack has experience in this) He will teach the child everything. How to set up a tent, how to light a fire and many other things. So the child will definitely not be bored. (imagine Hanma sleeping in a sleeping bag with a child, (although with his height it will be difficult to find a suitable sleeping bag) I think it's cute)

- if it's not going to be a hike, then it will be walking in parks or riding bicycles.

- in any case, he would prefer to spend time with the kid on the street

- violation of the rules? Mmmm... Maybe... Partly... Like, " Don't you want to go to bed? okay, you have 15 more minutes"

- maybe teach the child self-defense

Retsu:

- "no problem. I'll do it"

- it's equally easy for him to treat both small children and fairly grown-up ones

- he will also discuss all the nuances with his mother before leaving

- so there's nothing to worry about, he's a great babysitter.

- the child will always be full, there will be no problems with games and the child will sleep at the appointed time ( imagine a sleeping Retsu with a book in one hand that he read to the child , and with the other he holds the child who sleeps on his chest ... Well, isn't it charming)

- if the child is old enough, it will also not be difficult for Retsu to sit with him

- he will probably walk with him in the park or train with him. He is for outdoor recreation

- however, at home he will find something to occupy the child and at home. Perhaps she will draw with him or play board games

- break the rules? Seriously?! No, he won't let the child do that.

- also sends the child's mother photos of how he spent his time and what he ate.

Shibukawa:

- Well, okay

- it's not difficult for him to sit with the kid... He thought so...

- it's really hard for him to sit with a small child

- he is nervous, but he does not show

it - however, he calls the child's mother literally every 5 minutes

- however, Shibukawa learns quickly, so he can be found playing with a child at ease or walking with him (this is a pretty peaceful picture)

- If the child is quite an adult, then it really becomes easier for him

- he will tell the child the stories of his youth and observe his reaction

- he is also very malleable to the child... Not because she can't say no to him... Because he is really interested in what a child can come up with for entertainment

- Violation of the rules? Ha, of course he wouldn't be him if he didn't do it.

- he also often makes fun of the kid

[redrum-alice]

A.B.A x Human Paracelsus fanfic ideaaaaaaaaa...

Summary: Human Paracelsus may be in a human body, but he can't help his thirst for blood. Just so happens that his wife accidentally cut her finger-- the smell of mercury doesn't stop him though :)

Warning: a bit NSFW-ish? Blood kink too-- Idk :P [Post Strive]

_____________

After a long search, A.B.A was finally able to find a body suited for Paracelsus. Just seeing him in his new form had her madly in love again now that he has arms to wrap around her...or so she thought.

While Paracelsus "appreciated" her gesture (albeit loosely), he can't help but to feel strange about this human form- so many sensations that are too overwhelming to comprehend. Flesh that he sought after in violence now plastered on this feeble yet lean body, something A.B.A wished for. After agreeing to make things better with his partner, he took his share of work and helped A.B.A live out her domestic fantasies, starting off with cooking meals after they found an abandoned cabin.

A.B.A isn't much of a cook in terms of what she serves. She understands and quickly learns about how it works, but using ingredients that are not suited for one another is what hinders her, often cleaned up by Paracelsus so she wouldn't get upset about her mishap.

One morning, he woke up to a delicious smell. Perhaps his wife finally grasped the fundamentals of basic cooking, but he wagered it'd be a risk if he went to try her concoction blindly. Having acquired a human sense of smell and taste, he needed to exercise them with better options rather than risking it with something foul.

Heading towards the kitchen, he saw the homunculous trying her best to whip up a a meal along with piles of dirty dishes on the sink that is wordlessly assigned to him. On the table were what humans call "scrambled eggs", but it seems that it had bits of shells left on them.

But besides the whole mess, he noticed that there's something in the young woman that he didn't quite notice before he acquired a human body.

Never had he viewed her as someone who has a venusian charm; her figure could be compared to those statues of women whose arms are cut off to expose their ample bosoms. He supposed that this is a human experience, one that is alien to him, for he had never got the concept of "attraction". His so-called wife, however, had showed him examples of what it is to be attracted to someone, which what got themselves into this situation.

"Dear, you're awake!" A.B.A turned around to her husband, snaping him from his daze. "I do hope your new form is not so much of a burden..."

"I'm fine, A.B.A." he lied, not wanting to upset her.

The homunculous only responded with gleeful demeanor and returned to her task. "I'm sure you're experiencing hunger for the first time...after days of walking to find shelter." She hummed sweetly. "I-I'm trying to make something to replenish you..."

Paracelsus stayed quiet and proceeded to sit on the chair. When they entered the cabin, all the furnitures were blanketed with dust, including the table they occupied. To his surprise, it was clean and it even had a vase of fresh flowers that she must've picked outside- it was a small silent countryside after all. He assumed that A.B.A did all this while he was sleeping. He'd be lying if he didn't admit he was impressed. She did always go above and beyond to provide for them.

All of a sudden, he heard a squeal.

"Eek!" She screamed, followed by a sound of metal clanking on a wooden board.

"A.B.A! Are you alright?" Paracelsus stood up and rushed to his partner. "What happened?"

"I-it's nothing, dear..." she reluctantly responded. "Y-you should prepare the plates..."

Not buying a word, he beckoned her to show what she was hiding in her arms. A.B.A eventually complied, not wishing to disappoint her husband in fear that he would get frustrated and walk out of the door, seeing that he can now freely go anywhere he wish with those limbs. She hesitantly gave her hand to him, hoping he wouldn't think of her any less for a simple mistake of cutting her finger by accident.

"I-I should have been more careful, dear. I'm not fit to be a good wife if I keep being reckless." She shuddered, an instinct that Paracelsus know all too well when she's stressed. The crimson red substance pooled from the slit on her pale finger down to her palm.

He shouldn't have looked directly at it.

Paracelsus knew that his cravings for blood won't be diluted even if he was in a human body. He is a demon after all. But it was a strange feeling that wasn't akin to hunger, but something else. Yes, it is true that A.B.A had a mixture of mercury in her blood, but its color was as fascinating as that of a human blood.

He excused himself and wasted no time in finding a first aid kit, but the girl halted him by grabbing his arm. Paranoia was something she could not get rid of, even if it jeopardizes her in dire situations.

"No wait! I can fix it!" She insisted as she tugged on his arm, carelessly rubbing her wounded hand and letting her blood smudge on his skin. He gulped, feeling how wet and warm it seemed.

"Please dear, I can handle it! Let me wrap it myself. I'm sorry to have made you worried." A.B.A tugged on her bandanges on her leg, neverminding if it exposes her further.

All of these happening in front of him was driving him insane: his wife's intoxicating blood, her sweet panicked face, and her leg that teased him as soon as those bandages were repurposed to aid her wound.

Before she could wrap it on her hand, Paracelsus grabbed her injured hand and inspected it. What comes next was something A.B.A herself found shocking.

He licked her wound and begun sucking on it.

The sensation was so overwhelming that she was certain she nearly forgot the ability to speak. A.B.A watched in astonishment until she felt her legs wobble; only then she regained her voice.

"D-dear...?" She found herself having difficulty expressing her thoughts. Paracelsus kept sucking on her blood, not minding how it burns his tongue. What a pathetic flesh, he thought.

As if his fighting spirit also got converted into a human equivalent, he soon finds himself grabbing A.B.A closer to him and eventually trailing his free hand dangerously close to her plump ass. The young female homunculous couldn't help but to admire what her generous and loving husband is doing to her, evident by how her breathing quickened.

Soon, he carried her and pinned her down on the table. Screw the eggs, he was hungry for something this new body was craving for- her flesh. His ravenous side earning the upper hand as he starts to kiss his bride harshly on her lips, making A.B.A fluster more than she usually does. Those kisses turned into full on lip-locking, pooling their mouths with each other's saliva. His kisses soon attacked her neck, ripping off the bandanges that was blocking him from giving his sweet wife the pleasure she deserves.

It was no doubt that even in human form, he was still susceptive to primal urges such as blood, but this time, it was mixed with carnal desire.

And it seems he wasn't the only one enjoying it. A.B.A was more than eager to reciprocate this affection. She was more than ready to finally do it with her husband after years of solitude.

Oh how sweet it was to finally consumate their marriage.

Er...to be continued on ao3? This is just a stupid fanfic idea 💀🔫

Tagging @l00nwizard and @weeko bc of your replies. Sorry if this one is not too wholesome, but its a ficlet ig 💀😭🔫

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Mira Lazine at LGBTQ Nation:

At a campaign rally in Philadelphia, vice presidential candidate and Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz spoke to a roaring crowd about his personal experiences with in-vitro fertilization (IVF), a fertility treatment that many Republicans are scrambling to support in fear of losing voters.

“This is very personal for my wife and I,” Walz said, describing his family’s experience with IVF. “When Gwen and I decided to have children, we went through years of fertility treatments. I remember each night praying that the call was going to come and it was going to be good news. The phone would ring, tenseness in my stomach, and then the agony when you heard the treatments hadn’t worked.” “It wasn’t by chance that when we welcomed our daughter into the world, we named her Hope.” At rallies held across the country, Walz also emphasized that even if people wouldn’t make the choice for their families, it’s crucial that they mind their own business. “Even if we wouldn’t make the same choice for ourselves, there’s a golden rule: mind your own damn business. Look, that includes IVF.” The procedure is often used by same-sex couples who want to build their families, and it is the most common method of assisted reproduction. Because the procedure requires fertilized eggs to be created that likely won’t lead to pregnancies, many on the right oppose the procedure.

Walz is a fierce advocate for reproductive freedom. After Roe v. Wade was overturned in 2022, he pushed through legislation that mandated Minnesota be a safe state for anyone trying to receive the reproductive health procedure. His position isn’t unpopular, either. Most Americans, including most Republicans, support access to IVF, according to recent polls. After the Alabama Supreme Court ruled that frozen embryos are legally children in February – a ruling that caused several clinics to stop providing IVF treatments – Republicans in the state rushed to pass legislation that protected the right to IVF without addressing the fundamental question of whether frozen embryos are legally children. But Republican support for IVF is often shakier. GOP vice presidential candidate and Sen. J.D. Vance (R-OH) is one such example. He’s previously voted against a Democrat-backed bill in the Senate that would have protected the right to IVF at the federal level. But he still says that he’s in favor of IVF.

At last Tuesday’s Harris/Walz 2024 kickoff rally in Philly, Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz told a touching story of his experience with IVF with his wife Gwen.

See Also:

Jezebel: Tim Walz’s Personal IVF Story Intensely Foils J.D. Vance’s ‘Childless Cat Lady’ Tirades