#then why did they order no toppings of onion and made the rest of it onion

[starofmhera]

gift horse kicked me in the mouth

[whim-prone-pirate]

The Moment Each Disruptor Realized Benoit Blanc Was Gay As Hell: A Masterpost

I wasn't kidding when I said I'd do it.

In chronological order...

HELEN

Though Helen isn't technically considered a Disruptor by the rest of the group, I personally believe she's the only real Disruptor among them. That's a different post. Obviously, Helen realized first, as she met Phillip before she met Benoit. I think she assumed at first she had been greeted by some sort of housemaid because Phillip was wearing an apron—Then she saw the sourdough starter. That sold it. She saw Benoit in his stupid little robe and was like Oh fucking of course.

LIONEL

Lionel was obviously studying Benoit on the dock before the Disruptors and Benoit boarded the boat. While Lionel doesn't have the greatest gaydar in the world, as in, he's not looking for it upon meeting most people, he was looking to pick up on anything upon meeting Benoit. Here's this strange dude that none of us know and didn't expect to be here, what's his deal? As Lionel is trying to pick up something from Benoit, Claire starts fangirling over Benoit's previous case about the ballet dancer and Benoit says, "I'm obviously familiar with you all as well—Governor, Dr. Toussaint... Miss Birdie Jay." The way he talks to Birdie and says her name... Lionel understood. Unfortunately, Birdie did not. At all.

PEG

Also not a Disruptor but she's so important to me. Peg is a lesbian. She clocked Benoit as soon as she saw his outfit and heard his accent, but she was absolutely sure of it when she saw how he reacted to the anti-covid throat spray.

MILES

Miles' moment was difficult for me to pin down, mostly because he's fucking stupid and there is certainly a chance that he never realized at all. But, for the sake of the post, let's say that Miles noticed something was different about Benoit when he pulled him aside into the Glass Onion to ask why Benoit was there. When Miles said, "Someone reset the box. They sent it to you as a gag," and Benoit was so shocked that he raised his hand to his chest like a southern woman clutching her pearls... Miles still didn't get it, he was so caught up in his upset. But, after the ordeal in the Glass Onion, off-screen and on his own time, Miles thought about the interaction again, specifically that exact moment that I mentioned, and had the realization. Miles is so full of himself that he thought he was a genius for realizing.

WHISKEY

Whiskey saw him wearing a matching top-and-bottom bathing suit and a little scarf thing in a pool and absolutely understood. She didn't care at all, but she understood. Benoit was also the only one to have an open glass while walking (WALKING) through the pool. While I can't say for certain, it looks like the drink itself is just iced water with a lime. I think Benoit is one of the only people there who isn't drinking alcohol at the pool. That's not very important but I think it just adds to his whole ensemble.

BIRDIE

Of course, Birdie was one of the last to realize, or at least get a little hint of it. She had been hitting on Benoit since the first time she spoke to him at the dock. But, the moment that he said, "I'm going to embarrass myself here; I adore Sweetie Pants. I live in mine," she never made a move on him again. I think, based on the name, Sweetie Pants is a feminine clothing line and Birdie likely intended for women to wear the pants. After Benoit admits to not only wearing them, but loving them, she finally backs off. Immediately after Benoit says that, Miles begins talking about Birdie's career, and Birdie kinda smirks and bumps her eyebrows while gesturing towards Benoit. This could be taken to be her reaction to Miles' praise of her, but given Birdie's character and the context in which Miles is talking about this, I think it makes more sense for this to be Birdie's reaction to Benoit being very obviously gay. She gestures to him, like, "Oh my God, he wears Sweetie Pants, that's so gay. Benoit is gay, guys, do you see what I'm seeing?" Yes, Birdie. They do see it. You were the last one to see it.

CLAIRE

Claire was hard for me to define as well. She was so caught up in Klear and the aftermath of Andi's trial leading up to Duke's murder that I really don't think she was paying enough attention to Benoit to actually get it. I honestly believe that the first time she ever thought about Benoit as a person instead of as a detective that she thinks is really cool is when she was drunk in the minutes leading up to Duke's death. She didn't talk much because Miles was making his speech and dancing with Birdie, so I think she was looking around the room, landed on Benoit, and was too buzzed to really think about it too hard, so she had the very fleeting, yet eloquent thought of, "He's... gay. Yeah." She always kinda knew in the back of her mind, ever since the dock, but never got the chance to think about it.

DUKE

Duke never realized. I think he was on the cusp of getting it every time he was in an area with Benoit since the pool scene, but he's so alt-right that he thought in his head, "Haha! Benoit's kinda weird. That's so gay," because we all know he uses gay as a playful insult, but he never actually considered it a possibility. Then he died. Womp womp.

This is the most important post I've ever made. I appreciate the three people who asked me to make it.

(inspired by @mylasttwobraincellsandi and their post about the sweetie pants scene)

[sirfrogsworth]

The number of items you qualify for determines which circle of Hell you will end up in.

Here is a handy guide to see who you will be partying with in The Inferno.

First Circle: Limbo or "Heaven Lite."

Were you a decent person but forgot to get baptized? Welcome to Meh-ven. Not quite as good as Heaven, but you still get to live in a neat castle.

Second Circle: Lust or "Too horny for Heaven."

This circle is for those who banged their way through life. You are punished by being blown violently back and forth by strong winds, preventing you from finding peace and rest.

So, basically Chicago.

Third Circle: Gluttony or "You should have ordered a salad instead of that Bloomin' Onion."

I'm pretty sure this is the fat shaming Hell. You are overseen by a giant worm monster named Cerberus and placed into a large slushie machine. You must lie in frozen slush for eternity thinking about all of those hot dog eating contests you won.

Fourth Circle: Greed or "What? I gave $20 to the Red Cross every year!"

You are overseen by Pluto, the dog of Mickey Mouse. Or maybe the demoted dwarf planet. I honestly did not do enough research to be sure. Circle 4 is divided into people who spent too much and people who hoarded too much. They must push giant boulders at each other in a game of eternal rock jousting.

Fifth Circle: Anger or...

The angry must join a fight club and brawl each other atop the River Styx.

The grumpy must gurgle beneath the pugilists--submerged forever in that same river.

Sixth Circle: Heresy or "Ya know, I'm pretty sure the Earth revolves around the Sun. Hey, why is this priest placing me in shackles? It's just science, bro!"

Did you go against the Church? Well, for that they just straight up set you on fire. Not the most creative damnation, but I'm sure all of the flaming souls look neat from a spectator's point of view.

Seventh Circle: Violence or "Apparently, these things are all the same amount of bad... murder, suicide, and booty sex."

This circle is divided into three other circles. Which means there are 12 total circles. Which is confusing, but whatever.

In sub-circle 7a, you have the murderers. They are submerged in a river of blood that is also on fire.

Is blood flammable? Did Dante even try to set blood on fire before writing this? I'm thinking, no. YOU ARE TESTING MY SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF, DANTE.

In sub-circle 7b, you have people who have taken their own life. These folks are turned into shrubbery. Once in your final shrub form, this handsome harpy gal slowly eats you for eternity.

In sub-circle 7c, you have all of the anal fornicators. If you ever stuck it in a butt or had it stuck in your butt, you get to spend your afterlife in a desert of burning sand. And it is raining. So it is one of those rare rainy deserts I guess. Oh, but the rain is on fire.

WHY ARE SO MANY NON-FLAMMABLE THINGS ON FIRE, DANTE?

Eighth Circle: Fraud or "Is fraud really worse than murder?"

I'm going to be straight with you.

The eighth circle is a hot mess.

I'm pretty sure Dante was getting tired of creating new circles for every bad person, so he made a catchall for the villains that didn't quite fit into the previous circles and sub-circles. Instead of creating 10 sub-circles for the 8th circle, he decided to just throw everyone into their own hell ditch. These ditches are called Bolgias.

And now a Top Ten List from the home office in Wahoo, Nebraska.

Top ten types of people stuck in an eternal Bolgia ditch in the 8th circle of hell.

10. Falsifiers such as counterfeiters and wellness gurus. 9. Divisive individuals such as Fox News pundits and Chris Pratt. 8. Advisors such as self help authors and life coaches. 7. Thieves such as whoever created overdraft fees. 6. Hypocrites such as rich Pro-Lifers who have paid for several abortions for their mistresses. 5. Corrupt politicians such as (the list exceeded this post's maximum word count). 4. Wizards!

3. People who purchase pardons like pretty much anyone associated with Donald Trump. 2. Flatterers such as pick up artists and old ladies who tell me I am handsome in the grocery store. 1. Seducers such as people who have cake and want sex and are like, "Would you like some tasty cake in exchange for sex?"

Look, seduction is in the eye of the beholder and all I'm saying is cake would probably work on me.

Circle Nine: Treachery or "You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!"

Okay, so the 9th circle has 4 rounds.

Which sound an awful lot like circles.

Which brings us to 16 circles in the 9 circles of Hell.

I'm wondering if Dante named the book before he wrote it and everything was done with permanent ink so he couldn't change it.

The 9th circle has 4 frozen circles rounds, each dedicated to notorious traitors. Like a tribute to their epic level of sinfulness.

First up you have the Cain round. He was the first person to ever have a little brother and no one told him you can't just kill the little shit. People in the Cain round are encased up to the base of the neck, so they can still look around and stuff.

The second round is dedicated to Antenor. He was a Trojan. In reality, he negotiated peace with the Greeks. In myth, he opened the city gates and let the Greeks in so they could murder everyone. He was spared because he painted his house with panther blood.

"Panther Blood... 60% of the time it works *every* time." --Antenor

People here are encased to the top of the neck, so they are looking one direction forever.

Coming in round three we have Ptolemy. He didn't care much for his father-in-law, Simon Maccabaeus. So he invited Simon and his sons to a fancy banquet and Red Wedding'd the shit out of them. Ptolemy rounders are encased face-up in the ice just below eye level. That way, whenever they cry for being damned, their tears will freeze over. Over time those frozen tears create an ice visor that takes away the ability to weep ever again. And I'm guessing everything is real blurry too.

Round four is dedicated to the most infamous betrayer of all time. That's right, my favorite character in JC Superstar... Judas Iscariot.

Judas rounders are completely encased in ice. Permanently frozen and immobile with their bodies in every conceivable distorted and twisted position. Chances are, they have too much Heaven on their minds.

And in the very center of the nine-ish 16 circles of Hell, you have Satan himself. The fallen angel, Lucifer.

The story, as I like to imagine it, goes like this...

Lucifer was shooting the shit with the other angels and was all, "I could probably take God, right? He's not so tough."

And since a utopian existence is actually pretty boring and without drama, the other angels responded, "Absolutely! You've been working out and look totally jacked. You got this, dude." All while trying to hold in their laughter.

ANGEL PRANKS!

Lucifer then challenges God and gets instantly Thanos snap'd into a frozen lake. Lucifer sulks for all eternity wondering why those other angels told him he could whip God's metaphorical noncorporeal ass.

Satan is depicted as a hideous three-headed beast frozen up to his waist. He has six bat-like wings that flap and create a chilling breeze that keeps the ice frozen. Literally a hell of his own making. In each of Lucifer's mouths is a famous traitor being forever gnawed. History's most famous collective stabbers, Brutus and Cassius are being chewed in the left and right heads. And Judas is stuck in the viscous center maw while getting the world's worst backscratch from Satan's claws.

But wait, it gets racist!

Each devil head is a different color... Red for Europeans. Yellow for Asians. And black for Africans.

Dante, you little shit.

Alright folks, it is time to add up your totals. Which circle or sub-circle of Hell are you going to party in for eternity?

I'll do mine.

I am slightly homo for Chris Evans when he uses his biceps to curl a helicopter. I want him to hug me because I think he probably smells nice.

I do consider myself a feminist because I watched too many woke Disney films and I was indoctrinated by public schools.

I once ran out of RAM because I had too many tabs open in Chrome. I'm not sure if that qualifies me as a "porn freak" but I'm going to count it.

I smoked pot twice. The first time it made me feel like my head was full of bees and then I passed out for 12 hours. The second time I only inhaled once... and my head filled with bees and I passed out for 12 hours. Counting it.

When I was 18 my church's youth counselor matter-of-factly stated that my best friend was going to Hell. I thought, "That's silly, he's just a theater nerd who wore a floofy shirt and a Phantom of the Opera cape to school on multiple occasions. He's harmless and religion is dumb." So a big check for atheist.

I idolize my bestie Katrina because she is very good a puns. Is that worthy of idolization? Probably not. But I stand by it regardless.

And as far as masturbation goes... again, I ran out of RAM for having too many tabs open in Chrome.

I think I qualify for the seventh circle of Hell. I think I am going to engage in some mild thuggery so I can hang out in 7b as a nice shrub getting eaten by a harpy.

I realize there are only 12 options and 16 possible circles. So I have decided you may use a yoga pants multiplier.

1x if they are too tight but you went through tremendous effort to put them on so you are just going with it. 1x if they were acquired from an MLM mom on Facebook. 1x if they make that booty pop. 1x if they contain a pattern with as many non-complimentary colors as possible.

Welp. I put way too much effort into this.

I guess I'll see you all in Hell!

[xveilofnightx]

“Hospitality”

Genre: comfortfic, narrative, oneshot

Fandom: Pikmin

Characters: Olimar, Pikmin

Audience: All ages

Words: 930

Date Published: August 18, 2023

Summary: Captain Olimar is on a limited expedition when he falls ill. Never-before-seen Pikmin behaviors help him rest up.

AO3 Link

For Captain Olimar, it was Day 2 on PNF-404 during a short work-related expedition. He awoke as usual in the quarters of the present day S.S. Dolphin. He took a breath, and it hurt.

This was not a life support issue. Olimar had a sore throat that morning. He lifted his head and it felt unusually heavy to him. His nose was full and caused him more difficulty breathing than his chest and throat already had. He forced his arms down into his pod and sat upright with a hearty cough. He exited his ship as he normally would and felt his body suddenly stiffen when the oxygen-filled air made contact with his suit. Chilled to the bone, he felt dreadful joint aches with every step toward the first Onion. He worried for a moment, and then stubbornly continued, not letting his illness prohibit productivity. He retrieved many Pikmin, red, yellow, and blue, and marched forth upon the newly surveyed terrain.

There was nothing abnormal until the captain began to shiver. It stopped him in his tracks. To be out here on a planet that had caused him such great turmoil by once separating him from his family, Olimar started to feel as lonely as he did during his very first time researching PNF-404. Being sick here was new to him. This time, he was not alone, for his second family was right here. The Pikmin looked toward him for direction only to see their leader in discomfort. Olimar released a deep cough and the Pikmin started to worry. No Pikmin had ever known their leader to behave so odd. Olimar suddenly looked in their direction, wondering what they might think. Are Pikmin familiar with illness?

The Red Pikmin tilted their heads, the Yellow Pikmins’ leaves began to droop, and the Blue Pikmin gave an expression resembling a frown. They knew something was wrong, and Olimar could tell.

Do I have time to rest on a timed expedition? If I rest, will it be a waste of resources?

Olimar’s sickness was clearly debilitating and would affect his planned operations, but he could not stand the thought of losing time. The Pikmin had different concerns and felt a strong urge to protect their leader at all costs. They quickly surrounded Olimar from the opposing side and seemed to almost push him back in the direction of the base. His body was hoisted by little Pikmin hands pushing and pulling at his suit. The captain gazed around him at all of his soldiers swaying him back to safety. He almost did not believe what he was witnessing in front of his own eyes. He knew that Pikmin would work together in order to fulfill his interests, but the Pikmin now acted without orders to directly protect their leader.

After reaching the base, the crowd huddled close to Olimar. “Ah…” sighed the captain. He was engulfed in warmth. The Pikmin piled on top of themselves to form a fort to both warm the leader and shield him from harm. “A-choo!” Suddenly, Captain Olimar had sneezed. A few Pikmin flew off of his body, and waddled back over. The captain sniffled loudly. “Thank you, Pikmin.” He said in a low scratchy tone.

Maybe it’s good for me to rest. I can make note of this new behavior I’ve noticed in the Pikmin.

Olimar relaxed his shoulders and lowered his guard, just until he noticed a few missing Pikmin. His heart crumbled with worry. He quickly tensed and almost began to walk away to find them. The Pikmin reinforced their hold on him, and shoved his body towards the ship once more. This time, their mass movement seemed more assertive and intentional, nearly knocking the troubled traveler off his feet.

Why would the Pikmin stop me from moving away? Why are they now controlling me? Is this a protocol for population control?

In the instant that Olimar collected his thoughts, some assorted Pikmin ran from out of sight into the crowd carrying leaves toward the S.S. Dolphin. The ship received the leaves, and more Pikmin kept coming. Held almost completely off the ground by his arms, Captain Olimar had his boots dragged into the dirt beneath him as he was swayed, gently again this time, towards his spaceship. He entered to rest, while his beloved Pikmin returned to their respective Onions. In the grand space of land Olimar was set to explore, the confined warm S.S. Dolphin was an escape. Here in his ship, the captain could hear his ears ringing. His entire skull throbbed. His tingling hands felt the cool leaves surrounding him. The Pikmin assembled a nest for him. It was cold now, but would soon warm him as he rested between them in his pod. Here, too, were rations from Hocotate. Using the ship’s electronic food preparation system, Olimar heated a canned ration in a bowl, a steaming hot serving of PikPik Carrot soup. It was not as good as his wife’s, but it cleared his sinuses enough for him to breathe. The glass bowl made the slightest clang when softly placed beside the control panel. Occasionally sipping at the soup, Captain Olimar wrapped himself up in the makeshift nest of leaves inside his pod. His mind was fogged and his eyes felt heavy. His shivers faded as he fell asleep.

Once fearing the idea of falling ill so far from home, Captain Olimar’s fever-ridden brain was soothed by the warmth and care the Pikmin provided. PNF-404 never ceased to fascinate the galaxy’s greatest freight worker.

Thank you, Pikmin.

[keicordelle]

The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Hamburger

Keshet eyed the juicy burger in Thancred's hands with longing. Stacked high with crisp lettuce and onions, succulent tomato, and sour pickles, the bun squished beneath his fingers, juices and condiments dripping from it to plop onto the plate below. The scent of the meat and the seasonings used on it made him salivate, ambrosia for his nose.

"If you want one so badly, why didn't you order one?" Thancred asked, licking mustard and drippings from his finger.

The look Keshet shot him was downright plaintive; Thancred had seen the man with broken bones and stitching up his own gaping wounds, but never had he seen him look so pained before. "I can't. Well, I could order one, but I can't eat it."

Thancred stared at him, uncomprehending. He sounded perfectly sincere, saying something so irrational. "What do you mean you can't eat it? Are you allergic?"

Keshet blinked at him. "What? No. I can't fit it between my horns."

Thancred started. That was not an issue he'd ever considered before. "Couldn't you, like, slide it under?" The look that earned him bordered on scathing. "Or cut it into bite-sized portions and eat it that way?"

Keshet shook his head, looking vaguely insulted by the suggestion. "It's not the same."

He was familiar with this quandary already, of course. He'd been dealing with it ever since puberty, when his horns grew into their final shape and curled inwards to block much of his jaw. Even on the Steppe, his plight was not ubiquitous; there were plenty of Au Ra whose horns did not impede on their faces quite so much. So he'd had a good many years to grow accustomed to watching as his comrades ate things he could only long to taste. Slices of melon, sweet breads, and dzo meat pies were all just out of reach unless he bastardized their proper forms. And it only got worse when he landed in Eorzea, home of sandwiches and pizza and, of course, hamburgers.

Thancred was watching him sympathetically when Keshet forced his attention away from his forbidden longings and back to his lunch companion. With a concerning suddenness, that gaze sharpened. "Hmm. I have an idea that just may help you."

And so it was that Keshet found himself blindfolded at a table in the Rising Stones, uncertainty etched into the lines of his face as Thancred finished whatever he was doing in the kitchen. The amount of banging and clattering going on did not instill confidence. Finally, he heard the distinctive sound of a plate laid on the table before him, followed by Thancred's chipper, "Alright, you can look."

Keshet tugged off the blindfold to see what appeared, at first glance, to be a sausage laid before him. He reached for it, eyes widening to discover that it was in fact a specially formed hamburger, the meat shaped to fit the narrow bun. The toppings had all been lovingly sliced so they conformed to their new confines, the red edge of tomato and crisp leaves of lettuce peeking out from under the bun. "You did all this for me?"

Thancred nodded, chest puffed out with pride. "Go on, try it."

Keshet took up the burger, and for the very first time in his life, was able to actually take a bite. The explosion of flavor was every bit as good as he'd dreamed, and all the more so for being able to eat it with his hands, as intended. His eyes felt positively misty when he swallowed and looked up to where his friend watched him excitedly. "This is amazing. Thank you."

Thancred affected an air of nonchalance, one shoulder lifting in a shrug, but he was grinning as he said, "Hey, what are friends for, if not to help you overcome your hardships and enjoy life to the fullest?"

Read the rest of the series on Ao3!

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[ongreenergrasses]

🎟 please.

absolutely! i hope you enjoy 💜

There’s an enormous crash from the kitchen, and Nicky looks up from his laptop.

“Joe?”

“Holy shit,” Joe yells in response.

Nicky assumes that this is because he knocked over one of the many boxes stacked up in the corners. After they won the lottery, the first order of business was to find a new, better, more convenient apartment, and now they’re packing.

(Buying a house together seemed a little over the top. Nicky is not opposed to doing so, or generally just being with Joe and following him around for the rest of his life, but this is not something he would tell a roommate.)

“Is everything okay?” Nicky calls back.

Joe skids around the corner. “We have to go. Grab your stuff.”

“Okay,” Nicky says, and begins packing away his laptop.

“Not that. Well, maybe that. Whatever you can’t leave behind or be without. We have to go.”

“What?”

“Please, Nicky. We don’t have time.”

Nicky stares at him, and sees that Joe is shaking.

“Okay,” Nicky says, getting up and steering Joe to the bed, sitting down next to him. “Can you please tell me what is going on?”

Joe buries his face in his hands. Nicky hasn’t felt this helpless since he set fire to several pieces of onion that were caked to the stovetop and made the sprinklers go off.

“You’re going to hate me,” Joe says, muffled by his fingers.

“Joe! I could never hate you.” I love you, hangs on the tip of Nicky’s tongue. He swallows it back down.

“Okay. Okay.” Joe straightens up. “I have a brother.”

“Okay,” Nicky says slowly. He wasn’t aware of this before, but he knows Joe has a big family. “So do I.”

“My brother is crazy,” Joe says bluntly. “Not, you know. Clinically. But he’s completely insane.” It all comes out in a rush. “And we’re estranged, I love him but it’s for the best, but Samara told him about the money, and now he wants the money that we won. And he doesn’t have limits. So I’m worried he’ll do something to one or both of us to get the money, and we really have to go, now, Nicky.”

Nicky stares. “Your brother wants our money?”

“I don’t think he’s homicidal. But we need to go.”

“Homicidal?”

“Please, Nicky.” Joe turns the full force of his gaze on him, and Nicky never stood a chance, not against Joe’s enormous pleading (beautiful) eyes. “Let’s just go.”

Nicky stares around his room. He’s writing his dissertation. Will he need to leave school? Will he ever come back here? What if he stayed, and Joe left? Would he be safe?

He looks back at Joe. His mind has already been made up, long before this. He could never leave Joe. Not ever.

“Okay,” he says.

One of the perks of having an enormous amount of lottery money is that they’re able to get to the airport and be on the next flight out of the country without even making a dent in their finances. Nicky stares at the cover of his passport. He didn’t expect to ever leave the country again, let alone so soon.

Joe coughs next to him. Then coughs again.

“Are you all right?” Nicky asks, turning to face him.

“Why did you come with me?” Joe scuffs the toe of his shoe on the hideous airport carpet. “You could’ve stayed. This is ridiculous, I’m sure you would’ve been fine.”

“I…”

It’s the worst possible time for this. Nicky knows that. But Joe asked him a question, and this situation is entirely terrifying and entirely out of their control. The least that Nicky could do is answer honestly.

“I love you,” he says frankly. “And you said that we needed to go. So we’ll go.”

“You love me?”

“Yes,” Nicky says. His voice doesn’t waver. He’s never been so sure about anything. “And I trust you. So if you think that we needed to leave together, I know that it is for the best. For both of us.”

“I didn’t know that,” Joe says. His voice sounds very small. “I wish I had.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicky says, because the look on Joe’s face is spreading an icy, horrible feeling throughout his chest. “I should not have said anything.”

“No, I’m glad you did.” Joe looks at Nicky, then leans over, and tentatively takes his hand. “I - love you. Too. I love you too, Nicky.”

“Huh,” Nicky says intelligently. He looks around. There’s at least thirty people surrounding them at their gate, and they’re both wearing masks. It’s probably the worst possible time for this.

He feels Joe’s hand on his chin, tentatively guiding Nicky’s face back to his. “Can I kiss you, Nicky?”

Nicky whips off his mask so fast that he nearly tears it. He doesn’t care. “Yes, Joe, please - ”

Joe pulls his own mask down, and then kisses him, in the airport, in front of all those people. It makes Nicky feel as if he should be embarrassed, but all he feels is joy.

“I’m glad we have each other,” Joe whispers against his lips. “And that we’re doing this together.”

“Me too,” Nicky says, and kisses him again. He really did win the lottery, in more ways than one.

emoji prompts

[rabbitcruiser]

National Hot Dog Day 

Savor sizzling sausages in a bun with friends and family, experiment with various toppings and see how many you can wolf down on Hot Dog Day.

The sun is out, you’re at the amusement park, and the rollercoaster is filling the air with the clack-clack-clack of wheels on rails. The scent of a thousand different fair foods fill the air, but one stands out above all the rest. It’s rich, it’s savory, it’s the smell of a thousand mysterious meat products put into one delicious sausage casing, broiled up on a flame grill, and sent out on a bun with all the fixings. National Hot Dog Day celebrates this most delicious and tantalizing of treats, and its extensive history!

Learn about National Hot Dog Day

A lot of people are going to have fond memories of eating hot dogs. For some people, this reminds them of some of the fairs and fetes that they used to go to when they were younger. For others, it may remind them of the barbecues that they used to have with their families.

Or, maybe a hot dog is always your go-to snack when you go to a football or basketball game? There is no denying that hot dogs are tasty, yet we can’t eat them every day, as they’re not exactly bursting with nutrients. That’s why National Hot Dog Day is the perfect excuse for you to indulge in this treat.

A hot dog is simply a steamed or grilled sausage sandwich whereby the sausage is typically served within a finger bun, which is partially sliced to fit the sausage inside. The sausage used is a frankfurter or a wiener, which is a Vienna sausage.

Hot dog condiments and preparation vary regionally. For example, some of the typical garnishes include olives, bacon, coleslaw, grated cheese, chili, jalapenos, sauerkraut, onions. Typical condiments include cheese sauce, relish, mayonnaise, ketchup, and mustard.

History of National Hot Dog Day

Given the National Hot Dog Day is an international event, where it begins and who sponsors it tends to vary by region. In the USA it’s primarily the industry partners that participate in promoting it, whereas in other countries around the world it may be historical organizations celebrating the role it played in their history.

Did you know that the Frankfurter was named for the Germany city of Frankfurt, where it was said to originate? Well now you do! There’s even multiple varieties of Hot Dogs! The original hot dogs came in a natural casing, which in case you didn’t know were made from the small intestines of sheep. Intestines were regularly used for making all kinds of sausages, hotdogs included!

Then you have skinless hotdogs, in order to hold them together they’re cooked in a cellulose casing that gets taken off when they get packaged. Since cellulose is kosher and cheaper than kosher intestine, this is often how the frankly (heh heh) delicious Kosher Hot Dogs are often made.

National Hot Dog Day is celebrated all over, and if you’ve ever enjoyed a warm hot frank at a summer BBQ, then you’re no doubt celebrating too!

How to Celebrate National Hot Dog Day

The best way is to serve yourself up a great meal with hot dogs! Our personal favorite is the old classic, home-made mac and cheese served with slices of hot dog in it. We also really enjoy hot dogs in our chili, that’s if we don’t have a bun to make a classic chili dog.

Get all your friends together in your backyard and encourage them to bring their favorite frankfurters and condiments. Share stories of your first hot-dog, and all the memories you have around this classic summertime treat. There’s something about a hot dog with the slight char that comes from being grilled that always has us waiting for National Hot Dog Day.

If you really do want to do something a bit different on National Hot Dog Day, why not join a hot dog eating contest? If you think that you are going to be able to eat a lot of hot dogs within a specified period of time, you never know; you could end up being the champion!

However, we better warn you that there are people who enter eating contests for a living, and they train their bodies specifically for the task, so you’re going to be up against some stiff competition. Nevertheless, this can certainly be a fun and unusual thing to do, and you’re going to get to eat some hot dogs in the process, so everyone’s a winner, right?

If you take a look online, you will be able to see any food-eating contests that are going in your area. Of course, you could decide to host your own hot dog eating contest, between friends and family. This will certainly be a fun way to spend the day, and you will have more chance of winning. You could get everyone to pay an ‘entry-fee’ and this could be the prize fund for the winner.

Another way to celebrate National Hot Dog Day is by making your own hot dog creation. Hot dogs are typically served with ketchup, mustard, and onions, depending on your taste.

However, why not have fun experimenting with different toppings, to see what sort of creations you can come up with? There are so many different options, including crumbled gorgonzola, baked beans, grilled pineapple, pickled green beans, caramelized onions, and much more. You don’t know until you try it!

Crispy bacon is another popular one. Or, why not go for something completely unusual and out-of-the-box? You never know, you may be able to come up with the next big thing in hot dogs! If you do, be sure to share a photo on Instagram to get everyone’s mouth drooling!

Source

[shemarmooresfedora]

Home

Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.

Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader

Content/Warnings: mentions of abandonment, unwanted sexual advances (outside character to spencer), swearing, mentions of cheating (doesn’t actually happen), happy ending

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Chapter 10

You woke up with Spencer’s arm lazily draped over your waist. Rain was pitter-pattering against the window.

You rolled over and cuddled yourself into Spencer’s chest.

“Good morning,” he hummed contently.

“G’morning,” you sleepily mumbled.

“Is my little angel tired from last night?” he asked.

“Very,” you nodded, “Do we have to pick Callie up from her sleepover?”

“She’s staying there until after her soccer practice. I have to go back to my house and get some more clothes to bring over here but other than that, my day is wide open,” he gently stroked your hair.

“I just have two appointments later in the day so I’ll have to go into the office this afternoon,” you yawned.

“I’ll make us breakfast,” Spencer tried to shift out from underneath the covers.

“Or…” you wrapped your arms around him once again, “We can get breakfast on the way to your house and then I get some extra cuddle time.”

“Sounds good to me,” Spencer pressed a kiss to your forehead.

-

“Um hello?” Spencer asked as you both approached the woman standing at his front door.

She turned around and Spencer’s eyes practically bulged out of his head.

“Spencer!” she ran to hug him.

Spencer refused to unclasp his hand from yours, making it very clear he had no intention to return the hug.

“What are you doing here, Austin?”

Austin. This was Callie’s mother. The woman who abandoned them both.

“I’m in between jobs right now, figuring out my purpose in life, you know? I just took a bus and ended up back here again. Got me thinking I should stop by and check in,” she smiled like this was just a casual visit from a friend.

“You wanted to stop by after 11 years and no goodbye?” Spencer asked incredulously.

“I could also use a place to crash for a few days. How’s Camellia doing? Does she still do that thing where she twitches her little nose? I always loved that.”

“Don’t act like you know my daughter at all,” Spencer seethed.

“Spencer,” you got in between them, putting your hands on his chest to calm him down.

You turned to Austin, “One second.”

You led Spencer back down the steps, “Look, I know what she did was very wrong but she did give you the greatest gift of all, Callie, so maybe you could invite her over for dinner and she could just sleep on the couch for the night?”

“Just one night?” Spencer confirmed.

“If you don’t do this now, Callie will probably just track her birth mother down later in life without you there to supervise. Lots of my past foster kids have and it doesn’t always end well.”

“Fine,” Spencer relented, heading back up the front steps.

“You can stay with us for one night,” Spencer emphasized, “I will be watching you the whole time you’re with Callie.”

“Deal!” She clapped her hands excitedly.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself, opting to not give a label.

“Nice to meet you,” she replied with a sickeningly sweet smile.

She loaded her few bags of belongings into the back of the car as you and Spencer grabbed some more of his clothes from inside.

Spencer opted to drive so you headed to the passenger side. Austin grabbed the car door handle at the same time as you.

“Oh I’m sorry, were you going to sit here?” she feigned politeness.

“Yeah, I was,” you narrowed your eyes.

Spencer rolled the window down, “Austin, there’s plenty of room in the back.”

“Oh, of course!” she nodded enthusiastically.

You buckled as Spencer placed his hand on your thigh, in view of Austin. You settled in for the most awkward car ride of your life.

-

“Can’t you cancel? Please don’t leave me here with her,” Spencer begged as you got ready to go in for work.

“I would if they were just check-ups but Timmy has a rash I need to check out and I need to write a script so Jessica can get a refill on her medication. If you really don’t want to be alone with her, come with me,” you replied.

“I would but I also don’t trust her enough to leave her alone in your house,” Spencer sighed.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” you kissed him, “An hour and a half tops.”

“What do I even say to her?”

“You don’t have to say much. You’re already being generous enough to let her see Callie for the night. Just make dinner while I’m gone. You could offer her a bath or something if you want her to get out of your hair,” you suggested.

-

Spencer had offered Austin a bath so he didn’t have to deal with the awkward silence while you were gone.

He got to work cooking Rossi’s famous pasta for dinner, dicing onions and boiling the water. He would check the clock every minute and started a countdown in his head of when you would return home.

He heard the water drain from the tub upstairs.

Fuck, he thought, at least 10 more minutes until you’re home.

Austin sauntered down the stairs after her bath in just her bra and underwear, wearing one of Spencer’s unbuttoned dress shirts over top.

Spencer’s hands flew to cover his eyes, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hopefully you,” she smirked.

“I have a girlfriend, well it’s not official yet but I am very much committed to her,” Spencer stated.

“If it’s not official,” she drew closer, “Then, this wouldn’t be cheating.”

“I don’t care if it’s technically not cheating. I only have interest in Y/N,” Spencer spoke firmly, his hands still over his eyes.

“Just once, Spence…for old time’s sake,” she whispered in his ear.

“No,” Spencer backed up further into the pot of sauce he was cooking for dinner, spilling a bit of the hot liquid on himself.

Spencer opened his eyes at the burning sensation, “Now look what you did,” he sighed frustratedly, starting to undo the buttons of his shirt, “I have to soak this before it stains. I can’t believe you. Why would you think this is okay?”

“Just go wash your shirt, Spencer,” Austin rolled her eyes.

Spencer, being so angry, didn’t hear the door open.

“I’m not finished with you, Austin,” he stared her down.

He heard a squeak from the other side of the room. You were standing there, fresh tears running down your face.

Spencer looked down at his unbuttoned shirt, Austin’s lack of clothes, and recalled the last thing he said.

“Y/N, it’s not what it looks like-” he tried to run after you but you were already out the door, slamming it behind you.

Spencer scrambled outside to where you were starting your car back up again.

“Y/N,” he frantically tapped against the car window, “Please let me explain.”

You didn’t even turn to face him, shifting the car into reverse and peeling out of the driveway.

Spencer stormed back inside, grabbing Austin’s bags, “Get the fuck out of Y/N’s house and get the fuck out of my family’s life.”

“But Callie isn’t even home yet,” she argued.

“Good,” Spencer yelled, “Because it took you less than 3 hours for your true colors to show again. You care about nothing! You didn’t want anything to do with us then so you don’t get to have anything to do with us now,” Spencer escorted her towards the door, “I will not hesitate to file for a restraining order if I see you near me, Y/N, or my daughter ever again.”

“Can I at least change?” she asked as Spencer threw her bags on the front step.

“You were plenty comfortable showing me who repeatedly told you no so might as well show the whole neighborhood,” he slammed the door in her face.

-

How dare he? In your house. Probably in your bed.

You went back to your office because Spencer couldn’t even leave you the dignity to retreat back to your own safe space that was now tainted with bad memories.

Luckily, you had a few pairs of spare clothes that you always kept in the office and a fully made cot in case a patient needed to rest. You settled yourself on the bed, letting the tears begin to fall again, drenching your pillow as you let sleep take over.

-

“Please pick up please please please,” Spencer begged.

“Hi, you’ve reached Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I can’t come to the phone right now-”

Spencer hung up and hit his head against the steering wheel. He had already said what he needed to say in the previous 20 voicemails, followed by the additional 30 calls he made every 15 minutes, hoping you would pick up.

“At least you’re not blocked?” Callie tried her hardest to put a positive spin on it.

She didn’t know the full story, coming home after soccer practice to see her dad crying on the couch. Spencer told her that her mother had come back and hurt Y/N’s feelings badly because that was essentially what happened, right?

Spencer had been replaying the situation over and over in his head. Yes, it looked bad from the outside perspective but he didn’t think he actually did anything wrong. If only he could find Y/N, explain it to her and have her believe him.

“Have fun at school,” he hugged her goodbye before she hopped out of the car.

“Remember to tell Mrs. Roberts to drop you off at our place, not Y/N’s,” he reminded her.

“Our house is going to feel so dull though. It’s always cold, did you notice that? We don’t even have a cat,” she whined.

“The least we can do is give Y/N her space to process,” Spencer told her, “If she’s ready for us to come back into her life eventually, we’ll gladly take it.”

“If?” Callie grimaced, “How bad did my mother mess this up?”

“I’d rather not say,” Spencer simply stated.

“That sounds promising,” Callie sighed, “Bye, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

-

“Could you give this note to Doctor Y/L/N?” Spencer asked the receptionist.

Y/N,

Your house is cleared out. Despite your previous statement, it is obvious we have overstayed our welcome at the moment. I hope if you give me a chance to explain, it will ease your pain and in turn, mine. I swear to you, angel, nothing happened. I can tell the full story whenever you are ready and I hope you can hear the truth in my voice.

Yours,

Spencer

“Jake Gomez?” he heard you call out.

He turned around to see a little kid hopping out of his seat in the waiting room and following you into the clinic area. You made brief eye contact with him and you looked so broken. It took everything in him not to run up and beg on his knees for your forgiveness.

-

Callie had a big soccer game coming up and you really wanted to go but you also really didn’t want to see Spencer.

Sure, you got his note but he could easily have lied. It was hard to argue with what you saw right in front of your eyes.

You pulled your hair back into a low bun and wore a hood pulled over a hat as well as sunglasses. You made sure to blend in with the crowd of moms.

You saw Spencer about 2 rows of bleachers down, leaning against the fence. God, why did he have to look so good in jeans?

Despite your sunglasses, one of the moms caught the subject of your stares.

“I’m pretty sure he’s single too,” she nudged you, “If I didn’t have a husband, I would be all over that fine piece of ass.”

You just nervously nodded in response.

-

The game had gone into overtime. The teams had to take turns shooting on the opposing goalie’s net. Each team must take 5 shots with 5 different players and whoever makes the most wins.

Callie was put in the stressful position of needing to make the shot to win the game for her team. She took her time, lining up the shot and stretching out her legs.

Callie ran in for the kick, faking left and when the goalie dived, she kicked right.

“Score!” the ref announced.

“Yes, Callie!” you stood and screamed in excitement, “That’s what I’m talking about!”

After the initial shock wore off, you realized Spencer was staring directly at you.

You grimaced, “Um excuse me, sorry, excuse me,” you repeated as you tried to quickly get out of the aisle.

“Y/N, please wait!” Spencer ran after you.

“I came for Callie, Spencer, not you,” you huffed, slowing to a walk because the parking lot was up a hill and you weren’t about to sprint the whole way.

“Please, Y/N, let me explain. I miss you so much, it hurts,” he pleaded.

“Oh you’re hurt?” you asked incredulously, “I’m sorry that me leaving after I found you cheating on me hurt you.”

“I didn’t cheat!” Spencer insisted, “She was coming on to me but I rejected her every single time. I was yelling at her for how inappropriate her behavior was, that's what you walked in on.”

“You were yelling at her with your shirt off?”

“I had my eyes covered at first so I wouldn’t see her indecent but I accidentally backed into the sauce and I didn’t want to stain my shirt.”

You sat there in silence, processing his story.

“Please say something. I’ll do anything to make it right, I need you back.”

A tear fell from Spencer’s eye which was followed by many more.

“I think your story is just crazy enough that I believe you,” you spoke.

“Really?” Spencer asked.

“Really,” you outreached your arms for a hug.

Spencer dove into your embrace like it was his air. He cried into your chest for 10 minutes until he finally met your eyes again.

“I’m sorry, I just thought I was never going to get to do this again,” he squeezed you tighter, “I love you, Y/N, and I want you to be my girlfriend. I actually want you to be more than my girlfriend someday but this is a good start for now.”

“I love you too,” you kissed him, “And just curious, what did you have in mind for the future?”

“I’m going to make you my wife someday,” he grinned.

A/N: one chapter left of this series! 🥺❤️

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Special Order

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, fingering, breeding and mentions of forced pregnancy.

This is dark!Lee Bodecker and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Based on this drabble request: Lee Bodecker + “Why are you crying?” + breeding/forced pregnancy + y/n is a waitress and the sheriff is obsessed with her, and what better way to make her his 4ever than put some babies on her.

“He’s here again,” Mandy said as you loaded up your tray.

You didn’t need to ask who, you heard his gruff response as he came in and was seated in his usual booth. He was always alone but insisted on a whole family-sized table to himself. You sighed and gave Mandy a look.

“I’ll just get this taken care of then see to him,” you promised as you turned carefully.

“Good, ‘cause I ain’t dealin’ with him no more and he won’t deal with no one but you,” she whined and put a ticket in the window.

“Yeah, I know,” you made yourself smile, “stubborn man that one.”

“I ain’t know why he prefers you,” Selma said as she loaded the coffee machine, “probably ‘cause none of us got the patience for that.”

“Patience,” you scoffed, “not what I would call it.”

You swept over to the family of five and set out the plates one at a time. You finished up at the table and replaced your tray on the stack. You looked at the sheriff and he stared back expectantly. He did that, just watched until you came over.

You went over with a sickly sweet smile and took out your notepad. You tapped your stubby pencil on the paper.

“And what are we gettin’ today, sheriff?” you asked in your sugary tone.

“Ah, now don’t be usin’ that voice with me, honey,” Sheriff Bodecker said as he fiddled with the menu.

“You need to start treatin’ the other girls nice,” you retorted.

“I don’t like the other girls,” he read his menu and frowned, “I never tried the… onion dip.”

“Uh huh,” you said unimpressed, “well, I’ll just warn you, sheriff, I can’t and I won’t stop Mandy from spitting in between the bread.”

He frowned at you and put the menu down. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I’m tryna be rude, honey--”

“What did I tell you about callin’ me that? I’ll overlook it once or twice but I’m not one to put up with your gull, you know that,” you lowered your brows at him.

“I’m not tryna be rude, miss,” he corrected himself, “I’m only… I only prefer you is all.”

“Sure, sure, is it my sunny smile or my breezy demeanour,” you teased, “the onion dip then?”

“Club sandwich, extra bacon… miss,” he folded up the menu, “please and thank you.”

“I’ll have Mandy bring it right over,” you said, “now you don’t make me come back, I got other customers.”

👮

When the diner closed, you took your usual route home. Your tips were tucked deep in your old purse and your scuffed soles padded on the pavement, then the dirt path that trailed off to the old country house. You lived with your ma on her father’s ancient farm, your pops long dead.

As you turned up the hill that led to the long drive, a flash of lights stopped you in your tracks. You looked up at the distant house, a single window lit by the old oil lamp your ma still used. You sighed and turned to face the cruiser parked in the shadows of the beech tree.

You recognized the silhouette as he stood straight behind the driver’s door. The sheriff fixed his hat as he came around and looked you over in the early twilight. He didn’t spend much time in town, often riding around the county and only stopping by to sit down at Sal’s and terrorise the waitresses.

“Sheriff,” you greeted, “whatcha doin’ around here?”

“Whatcha think?” Bodecker asked as he leaned against the hood, his large stomach sticking out from his open leather jacket.

“My ma’s waiting on me, I brought her leftovers from the diner,” you waved the paper bag.

“They already cold,” he lit a smoke and flicked it, “I wanna see ya.”

“Now, sheriff, we had our time--”

“I always thought I tip you well considerin’ the mouth on ya,” he took a long draw on the cigarette, “ain’t you?”

“Of course, sheriff, but I’m not on the clock right now and ma be expectin’ me,” you said.

He took another drag and threw the half-smoked stick away. He stood straight and reached to his holster. He unsnapped the small strap but made no move to free the pistol. You took a step back, terrified, and swallowed.

“Sheriff,” you said cautiously.

“Honey, please, you know I don’t be wantin’ to hurt you now,” he ran his thumb along the butt of the gun, “so you come put down those scraps and let me get a good look.”

You stared at his hand on his pistol. You took a deep breath and stepped closer. You set paper bag on the hood of his car and he slid your purse from your other arm. He tossed it beside the leftovers and trailed his fingers down your arm.

“I always thought that was a nice colour on ya,” he grabbed your wrist and pulled you against him, your ankles twisted and you collided with his round stomach.

“Thank you,” you looked past him as you smelled the bacon still on his breath.

“Look real nice, honey,” he undid the top button of your dress and you flinched, biting down as you stared at the beech bark. He groped your chest and you closed your eyes. When you opened them, they were wet. “Why are you crying?”

“Can I go now?” your voice wobbled despite your effort to hide your distress.

“We ain’t even started, honey,” he undid another button, and another, and exposed your cleavage above your brassiere “Look at you.”

“Please, sheriff, I want to go home,” you caught his hand and he grabbed your jaw. You choked on your fear as he turned you and pushed you against the bumper.

“You’ll be home soon enough,” he snarled, “you put your hand down my pants and make me let you go.”

You shook your head in disgust. You looked him in the face, all the light drained from his eyes as his jowls lined with malice. He squeezed your jaw and you cried out in pain. You reached to his belt blindly and fumbled to undo the buckle. You felt how hard he was through his pants as you pushed down his fly.

“You’re hurtin’ me,” you whispered as you pushed beneath his briefs.

“I could do a lot worse,” he threatened, “ah that’s it, honey.”

You wrapped your fingers around his dick. He was thick and hard against your palm. You stroked him and he shuddered as he leaned against you. His hand slipped down to play with your chest again. He had you pinned to the car as you kept your wrist moving in the confines of his pants.

He groaned and trembled as he urged you faster and you obeyed, turning your head to look at the farmhouse just up the rise. He grabbed your face again and leaned in. His hot breath grazed your lips and he pressed his mouth to your cheek.

He edged you back onto the car and stepped between your knees. Your skirt rode up as he forced your legs wide around him. You pushed on his chest with your free hand and he flung you onto your back with a vicious shove.

You sprawled across the hood, your bags falling to the ground as he grabbed your hips. He ripped your hand from inside his pants and rolled his briefs under his dick. You kicked out as he reached under your skirt and wrestled off your underwear. You cried out as he ripped them free of one ankle.

“No, please, don’t do this. Sheriff, please--”

“You can keep callin’ me sheriff,” he purred as he bent over you again and searched for your entrance with his fingers.

“How long’s it been?” he asked as he caught his tip and poked it along your hole, “Two years, you think I’ll wait forever.”

“I don’t-- Get off of me,” you sank your nails into his leather jacket desperately, “get--”

You gulped as he sank into you all at once. It hurt and sent a pang up your spine. Your wet eyes began to leak as you realised you couldn’t stop him. He thrust and sent another agonizing bolt through you.

“Two years, honey, you think we got time left?” he rutted between ragged pants, “‘bout time you get a baby on ya.”

“Wha-- oh, please--” you gasped as he kept you pinned to the cold hood of the car.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya,” he rasped, “you ain’t gotta keep pourin’ coffee.”

“Stop,” you whispered and closed your eyes, “please..”

Your pleas fizzled and you let him get on, praying it would end. He fucked you harder with each thrust, fueled by your pathetic cries and the sound of him inside of you. He cradled your head as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His breath singed your skin as he spasmed and spilled inside of you.

When he stopped, you couldn’t move. He pulled out of you with a grunt and his cum dripped from your cunt. You nearly slipped down the hood and barely got your feet under you before you could crumple. You rubbed your fingers through the sticky cum on your thigh and refused to look at him.

“Look at the mess you made of me, honey,” he purred, “the mess I made of you.”

You wiped his cum on your skirt, revolted by the cooling slickness. You pulled your dress straight and left your underwear in the dirt. You glanced at him but he didn’t make a move, only watched you with delight as his hands rested on his open belt.

Numb and unsure, you turned and grabbed up your purse and grease-stained paper bag from the ground. He chuckled and you heard his belt clink. You stumbled through the dirt as he let you go.

“I be seein’ you tomorrow,” he called after you, “I’ll make sure to take a long lunch.”

👮👮👮

Please reblog and like! Let me know what you think.

[deans-haunted-baby]

Okay I see there are those who are confused as to why most of us are pissed about 15x19 I will gladly explain in depth:

Let’s start off with our boys Adam Milligan & Michael. These characters have not been seen for 10 fucking years. During that time there were Adam stans like myself campaigning like mad to have him and the infamous archangel return for some much needed closure. We had to content ourselves with headcanons, fanfictions and metas based on what we briefly knew of Adam and Michael as people while they unfairly sat in Hell. You might have seen the “Adam’s Still in Hell” memes that circulated. WE WAITED OVER A DECADE FOR THIS. And finally SPN answers our prayers and returns these boys back into the story for the final season. None of us anticipated what their arc and dynamic would look like. Before we could only imagine who these two characters were/are after having been trapped in a cage so long; what their personalities would be like and if they’d be antagonistic to TFW. 15x08 was a surprise because not only were Adam and Michael likable right out of the gate but the writing for them and their dynamic was damn near flawless! And Jake fucking stole the show he killed it as these two. It’s a crime they were not featured in more episodes because the chemistry between these characters is amazing and they’re played by the same dude.

We were given so much background into both Adam and Michael’s psyches in just a short period of time. Their motivations, interests and how they viewed those that wronged them (like the Winchesters); how Hell affected/changed them both and how they viewed their families. We got to see them banter, cooperate with one another and most importantly their different personalities. With Jake Abel appearing in only a handful of SPN episodes, he still fleshed out Michael and Adam beautifully; giving them layers and complexities that most side-characters (who’ve appeared more times than they have) didn’t. The way Jake played Adam’s anger and resentment towards his brothers was brilliant because it’s more under the surface compared to his angsty teenage self in 5x18. He’d become somewhat restrained, laid-back, gentler and wiser which works because Adam displays traits similar to Sam and Dean. He’s kinder and has a sense of humor but none of that distracts from rational thought as he’s quick to analyze and dissect situations. Man, he would’ve made a great hunter/Men of Letters recruit. We know right off the bat Adam’s pissed at his brothers for abandoning him in a thousand-year-prison-sentence and didn’t lift a finger BUT that ironically doesn’t compromise his willingness to help them unlike his past self in 5x18. Jake gets the point across with this character without saying much and that’s what made him so compelling to watch in this episode.

Now Michael was even more of a mystery onion since he wasn’t onscreen as much as Adam had been in past episodes so Jake got to really build on top of this character. Going from the uptight, cold-blooded merciless celestial warrior/dutiful son of God we saw in 5x22 to someone whom despite his arrogance and regal princely demeanor was very human, intelligent, fair, mindful and compassionate. He trusted Adam and respected his opinions even if he didn’t agree 100%. Whereas most angels take over the vessel completely from their original occupant; Michael chooses to share his vessel with Adam as a mutual agreement which says a lot about who he is. He’s fascinated with humanity and wanted to explore it instead of returning to his throne in the clouds. We know that Michael was created specifically to be Humanity’s protector and guardian of Heaven and Earth so these quirks he’d demonstrated in 15x08 aren’t too far off. He holds a lot of pain inside from his abandonment issues with his father whom he loves to a fault and grief over the death of his brothers. On the surface there’s very much an abused child syndrome thing going on with him though he masks it with a domineering presence. And above all this we saw that he was capable of forgiveness. Whether or not Michael always had these traits inside to begin with, its very evident that his friendship with Adam influenced the person he became post-Hell. And that was someone who, like Castiel, chose to rebel for the sake of free will by aligning himself with the Winchesters after witnessing the evil his father had committed. He actually cared about saving the world. This is what we call character development.

What does 15x19 do? It shits all over that. We don’t get to see Adam and Michael’s dynamic at all; and this was perhaps one of (if not the first) most healthy portrayal of a relationship between an angel and its original vessel occupant in the history of Supernatural. Adam is just killed off-screen Thanos style without so much as one last word and Michael barely reacts like he gives a crap. It was just established to us in 15x08 that he’d developed an emotional bond with Adam through years of inhabiting the same body. He protected Adam while they were trapped together in Hell. They were each other’s only friend and source of comfort. They’d developed a certain co-dependency on each other while respecting one another’s space. They’d both made peace with their joint situation. All they had was each other and the writing in 15x19 basically tells us their relationship meant absolutely NOTHING to Michael based on his OOC actions in this episode. He shows up much darker and shadier now that Adam is gone and its like all those years of friendship, things like that independence, newfound strength and humility he’d gained from living with a human for so long are erased. Michael just reverts back to Chuck’s 5x22 bitchboy persona in the most ridiculous 180 shift I’ve ever seen in my whole damn life. And all because his little brother called him mean names. Pitiful. Just when he lectures Lucifer about standing up for what’s right; he betrays his own words, his allies and the rest of humanity in T-minus 2 minutes. That is total character assassination. Nothing about this motivation makes any sense.

There’s no build up to it, no foreshadowing in 15x08 or throughout 15x19 until they get to the lake. He’s completely deconstructed as a character in this episode and rendered weak. It’s like 15x08 never happened. Stripped of all his development for lousy shock value. Instead utilizing all of what he’d learned through Adam and sticking it to Lucifer by proving he could be more than what Chuck tried to mold him into; Michael becomes just another NPC in the story forfeiting the hero he was. And his reasons for siding with Chuck are never specified. Was it about about saving Adam? Was it about proving something to Lucifer (whom he’d already killed in anti-climatic fashion)? Was it all an act that he was in on with the Winchesters; cause there’s absolutely NO FUCKING WAY they could’ve predicted he’d flip on them like that for their magical plan to work. Not after everything Chuck’s done, killing Adam and Jack and leaving Michael to rot in Hell for eternity. And why would he suddenly go along with destroying the Earth when defeating Chuck would probably get Adam back (if that was his goal) which IT DID not to mention its his sworn duty to freaking protect humanity, hello? So his betrayal meant jack shit in the end as it got him killed by his fucking dad!! He’s brought back into the show only to be ruined forever and killed off in the stupidest fashion.

Moving on.

Jack Kline & Castiel. This iron-clad relationship has been in development for 4 in 1/2 years since before Jack was even born. And next to Adam & Michael its the other most healthy relationship on the show. Castiel, a million year old celestial being, spent the first 9 years of his arc on Supernatural following around the Winchesters, being torn between his loyalty to them and to Heaven. He rebelled when he was supposed to be a straight-by-the-book warrior of God. And he defied every rule in the process even when the odds were stacked against him. There was an endless rinse and repeat cycle of love, loss, betrayal and redemption when it came to his relationship with Sam and Dean. It made his character complex, interesting and layered but it still didn’t give him an arc that was his own. Castiel started out moreso being written as just the Winchester’s angel BFF/side-kick. Until Lucifer got Kelly Kline pregnant in 12x08 then things really took off. Before this, Castiel was a lost soul. His faith was broken, he was depressed, lonely, battered and rundown from years of being conflicted over the other angels and Sam & Dean. He felt he’d lost a sense of self and meaning in his life. And didn’t have a mission. Once he turned on Heaven’s orders, Castiel was a rebel angel without a cause so to speak. But like I said this changes the moment he meets Kelly.

Originally Castiel was suppose to kill Kelly in 12x19 because she was carrying the child of the devil and Nephilim are considered forbidden abominations. Told that if Lucifer’s kid was born he could unleash even more evil into the world. But instead of doing what he thought he should, Castiel decides to runaway with her. Choosing to protect her from all threats (Lucifer, demons, other angels, princes of Hell); this especially included the Winchesters. During this short time-frame the angel develops a strong, emotional bond with Kelly and her unborn son that stretches all the way to the S12 finale; to the point where it actually gave him a power-boost. From the womb, Jack appoints Castiel to be his father and protector and he’s given a glimpse into the child’s destiny that he’ll bring paradise to the world. A prophecy that the writers establish head on. This is an unusual circumstance because right here is where Castiel’s solo arc apart from the Sam & Dean takes shape. The journey of becoming a first time parent and guardian. Its a new kind of independence that for the first time has nothing to do with his friends or his family members/colleagues in the sky. Its his own personal mission that he willingly accepts, the second he connects with Jack from inside Kelly. Castiel immediately falls in love with him, before they even see each other; and adopts the boy devoting himself to keeping him safe. Making a promise to Kelly that would later become a vital plot-point in the seasons to come.  

Castiel literally risks everything (Heaven and Earth) to ensure Jack’s birth and ends up dead by 12x23′s startling conclusion. Leaving the newborn infant Nephilim alone in the care of the Winchesters going into season 13; scared, confused and aged into a seemingly 18 year old boy for his own protection. And Alexander Calvert who is a fantastic addition to the cast really brings something wonderful to this role; he’s like a breath of fresh air and a bright light in the middle of a dark room. Jack’s naïve, innocent and curious about his surroundings but also as Castiel once put it “remarkably intuitive”. Right when he’s introduced his arc is intentionally paralleled with Castiel’s. Their alien-fish-out-of-water beginning is practically identical as is their adorable stoic facial expressions. Like father like son. And this helps because while the angel is currently dead in the beginning of season 13, there’s an empty void he’s left behind. So Jack is kind of his temporary stand-in. Odd enough this type of switcharoo would’ve been considered very controversial but it’s handled quite well. Alex is so likable and charming I almost wish Supernatural had introduced him sooner. I mean I really thought I was looking at Castiel’s actual mini-me and not the son of Satan. But I digress Jack’s story in the first half of this season is pretty much about discovery and reuniting with Castiel. He’s a baby so everything is new to him but he’s also one of the most powerful beings in the universe destined for greatness which makes the Winchesters very nervous.

Jack remembers choosing Castiel as his dad which is why he already feels strongly connected to him. Its a bond so powerful that it actually resurrects Castiel out of the Empty the first time. Something Chuck himself was unable to do (that was until the mess that is 15x19). When they’re finally reunited the payoff comes so naturally. Misha and Alex have such a phenomenal onscreen chemistry starting with that first hug; they really play off one another so well that it doesn’t feel like two angels interacting but a genuine father and son duo. So much of what makes Jack and Castiel’s relationship so relatable, deep and endearing is because of what the actors bring to it. But they’re not just a fascinating relationship, they’re compelling on their own too. Both trying to find their way in the world and within the Winchesters’ lives. Death is no stranger to either of them (tragic being that Jack is only a toddler). They’ve each experienced their own personal pain, traumas, life lessons, mistakes and decisions. The biggest for Castiel would be his deal with the Empty to save Jack in 14x08. While for Jack it was the consequences of said deal that would lose his soul causing him to accidently kill Sam and Dean’s mom in 14x18 as a result (something that Jack struggles with immensely to the brink of depression from so much guilt and regret that he’d rather die). Repercussions that would follow into the shows final season. What’s interesting about this deal though is that Castiel made it on parental instinct alone not as a promise to Kelly. He chose to sacrifice himself for the sake of his son as a selfless act of love and kept it a secret from Sam & Dean until his death in 15x18. That’s the extent how much this child meant to him. The other great thing about their family dynamic is that it parallels nicely with the Winchesters. Castiel and Jack share this unconditional love that can never be broken. its even greater than their ties to the Winchesters themselves just as Sam & Dean’s love for each other is greater than any of their other relationships. They would do anything for each other. Castiel would go to the ends of the earth for the little nougat baby because that’s his son.  

Each time these characters were faced with danger or died, Castiel and Jack were overcome with extreme devastation and distress. That said its not just pain that binds these two its happiness. Jack is the best thing that ever happened to Castiel. Literally becoming a father to that child saved him. It brought him back to life, restored his faith and gave him a sense of self-worth and hope he’d long since abandoned. And for Jack, Castiel is the best dad he’ll ever have! He gave this baby comfort, wisdom, nurturing, strength. Was always there when he needed him whether it was to talk or to have his back. No other person in Jack’s life has ever made such an important impact nor made him feel more safe and loved than Castiel. Even when Jack had done such a horrible thing to Mary alienating himself from his family; it was Castiel’s unyielding devotion to Jack that ended up being his salvation. This was huge because once again he’d chosen over the Winchesters proving that no matter what (whether it be the world ending) his son comes first. So when Castiel’s pact with the Empty finally comes due in 15x18 you’d think it’d have an earth-shattering affect on Jack in 15x19. I mean for the first bit it does...until he becomes God. Then its like to hell with that relationship. Castiel is a complete afterthought to Jack and the rest of TFW in this episode. JACK DOESN’T EVEN GET TO GRIEVE HIM PROPERLY. And he just lost his dad because of a deal he’d made a year ago for him. A DEAL JACK HAS BEEN FUCKING DREADING WHILE HE WAS SOULLESS MIND YOU. And when he finally has the power to bring him back, he doesn’t? Jack just walks around with a conceited smirk on his face, bids Sam and Dean adieu and fucks off. I mean who gives a shit right, its only your dad that you love more than anything. This was extremely OOC given that time in 14x14 Jack nearly lost his shit when Castiel got infected with gorgon poison; the anti-venom wasn’t working so Jack resorts to using his powers putting his soul at risk.

I mean if he was so limited to helping Castiel in the Empty AT LEAST FREAKING CLARIFIY THIS TO THE AUDIENCE. This is not about shipping a certain pairing btw. Jack becoming God is not the issue its his characterization after the fact. His first instinct would’ve been to save his dad above getting in touch with the Earth. Yes we knew this transformation was coming it was foreshowed way back in Season 12. Does that justify bad writing or character assassination?? HELL NO.

This is what I’m talking about, episode 15x19 deliberately butchers these characters and their relationships. It shat all over them. No one is behaving like themselves. The pacing is wonky and inconstant. The script feels like it underwent several rewrites and I swear there were scenes cut out. The acting is off too and maybe the pandemic could be blamed for these things but it ultimately falls on the writer. Buckleming screwed up by showing us they don’t know who the hell these characters are, their motivations nor do they give a rat’s ass. And its noticeable on screen. I’ve known better fanfiction writers for SPN than these guys. It’s like they all came back to work but just didn’t care to put the effort into it. That’s why people like me are upset and we have every freaking right to be. Some of us have been with this series for the entire 15 year run. I at least expect these characters to be handled better and for things to make sense. 15x19 doesn’t and its not satisfying its just a cruel joke. The writers and Dabb should be embarrassed to have put this out there thinking we’d just swallow it and shut up. But far as I’m concerned the only thing this episode serves is to disrespect and ruin everybody while angering long-time fans.

MICHAEL. ADAM MILLIGAN. JACK KLINE AND CASTIEL DESERVED BETTER. And that’s the tea.

[thatsbucknasty]

she used to be mine (xi) waitress au

summary: Inspired by the broadway musical. Y/N Beck is a pie baking force to be reckoned with. She’s pregnant with her lazy ass husband, Quentin Beck’s baby. As everything around her turns upside down, Doctor James Buchanan Barnes charms his way into her life.

pairing: Y/N x Bucky

tags are closed

author’s note: Alrighty guys, we’ve almost reached the end of this story. I hope you’re still reading, please tell me if you are!

chapter 11: she used to be mine

I wake up startled by a searing throb down the side of my belly. I quickly remove the sheets and there’s no blood so I try to lift myself up from the bed and start walking to the kitchen to get my decaf ready. I remember Bucky talking about the Braxton-Hicks contractions in one of our appointments a couple weeks ago and he told me I should walk so I walk. I have one of Wanda’s pregnancy books that she keeps sending me and walk, walk, walk for what feels like hours, although it’s only been 15 minutes.

I see myself in the mirror and I can’t recognize myself. My body’s changed so much, I’m pretty sure I have a few more wrinkles around my eyes and a few more freckles from all the damn walking under the sun. But that’s not what bothers me the most about all these changes. I just don’t feel like the person I used to be. She was good, a bit messy but always kind, she had a lot more hope in life for herself and those around her. I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy, or the divorce, or everything combined that’s made this version of me so bitter. And this isn’t something I can fix with a little more butter and sugar, in fact I don’t think it can be fixed.

-

It’s been the longest week of my entire life. Old Nick and Sam collectively decided to gang up on me, and I feel Bucky had to do with it a little bit too. They forced me to go on a “stay-at-home-vacation” until the baby is born, which should be any day now, so I’m just here, alone on a Saturday morning, while everybody is working, Quentin is sleeping with that woman and hasn’t even bothered to call me or show any interest in either his unborn child or our imminent divorce.

This is boring, I feel useless and I need to get out of here. This house, this awful, lopsided couch, that crooked picture frame of me and Quentin at prom so many years ago. I want to throw all of it away and start fresh in a nice, picket white fence house, just me and my baby. Wanda and Nat would come visit and I would bake some of my “La vie on rose petals and vanilla ice cream pie”, we would have a no boys allowed day when it’s just us, and sitcoms, and I could have wine or coffee again, little peanut could have a puppy or a kitty to play with and I would give her all my love and we could be a real, whole family. If I wasn’t tied to this place, these curtains that never let any light on, that man who was always so violent and disgusting but only just showed his true self, maybe I could have that pastel colored life that I should deserve. But what if this is what I deserve?

-

I called Quentin six times this week. Matt finally was able to send me the divorce papers that I already signed, but that lying, cheating, bastard hasn’t sent them back to me and won’t even dare to answer my calls or texts. I cleaned every surface of this dingy house and put every item that reminded me of my screwed up marriage in a box outside for the garbage collector to take away. Quentin can buy new shirts and underpants, if he can’t answer the stupid phone I can throw away his stuff. I don’t even care anymore.

I find myself walking again but not around my kitchen. I’m waking to the diner cause I felt trapped in the house and I need to cook, something with lots of garlic or onions, I will call it “Wrecked home scrambled eggs pie” served with sauteed bell peppers on the side and a spicy sauce dripped on top of the crust. 

-

I go through the back door and into the kitchen before the girls see me, Sam reacts by giving me a side eye and continuing flipping the burgers he’s working on right now.

“Table 9 order’s ready!” Sam calls out and Wanda takes it.

“We have a pregnant lady in the back, stress baking”.

“I can hear you!”

“Alright good, well you shouldn’t be here. You’re lucky it’s a busy day so we can’t just drop everything and drive your ass back home where you should be!” Nat’s in the kitchen window scolding me now too, perfect. I knew this was coming and to be honest I prefer their banter than the deafening silence I felt at home.

“Just so you know, I’m texting Bucky and he’s coming over” Sam interjects.

“Wha- guys, I’m just baking one pie and then I’ll go, tell him he doesn’t have to come”.

“Why couldn’t you bake this one pie at home then?” Wanda asks with genuine curiosity in her voice.

I decide to be truthful.

“I felt trapped and lonely, I missed the diner. Plus I didn’t have any bell peppers at home and I was craving them”.

They all look at me weirdly, there’s no pity in their eyes, there’s just… tenderness.

-

Bucky arrives an hour after I got here, with a stern face and his lab coat still clinging to his frame.

“Hey, what’s up, sweetheart? You’re supposed to be resting”. He rubs my shoulders and all I can think is how grateful I am for this little family and this man life blessed me with.

I explain how awfully sad and stressed I was feeling at home and he takes a seat between me and Steve, who’s eating a slice of pie while Wanda’s showing him what she calls “satisfying cleaning Tik Toks”, and Sam’s chatting with Nat about a concert he’d like to take her to next week. Everything about this feels so calm and I’m even starting to feel sleepy with Bucky’s skilled hands rubbing my knotted neck and shoulders.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s decided to finally stop being a fucking hypocrite! It’s Y/N and the stupid fucking Doctor. Tell me, Doc, did you enjoy gazing at her lady parts when she’d go for a “check up” and fell in love because you too are lame and boring?”

I grab Bucky’s hand and stand between him and Quentin, using my other hand to protect my belly.

“What the hell are you doing here, Quentin? You’re not welcome here anymore”. I say, head up high but voice trembling.

“Came home to drop your divorce papers- that I’m not signing by the way- and to tell you to fuck off because whether you like it or not, I’m gonna be a father and you can’t do anything about it baby girl. It’s you and me! It’s always gonna be you and me, so tell you precious Doctor and your friends goodbye. We’re coming home!”

Quentin grabs my hand and tries to yank me away from Bucky but before I can do anything else Steve and Sam are already punching the shit out of Quentin, sitting him down on the floor and pushing his arms around his back. Bucky is taking me away from the fight, shielding my eyes from the view, he knows I don’t need this kind of stress. Nat called the cops when Quentin arrived, knowing the asshole would pull out a stunt like this. Minutes pass and I can’t step away from Bucky’s embrace to see his ass handcuffed and thrown into the police’s back seat.

Bucky takes a step back to look at my face as he feels me trembling and his shirt soaked with my tears.

“Y/N, sweetheart, it’s over. He’s gone”.

I try to form words but then it hits me.

The pain.

This is not what I asked for.

The excruciating cramp-like aches in my lower stomach.

If I’m honest, I’d give this life back for a chance to start over.

The water running down my legs.

I would rewrite the story, from beginning to end.

I can’t feel my legs. All I feel is fear, pain and anger.

This is the life that I’m bringing you into, little girl. I’m so sorry. To you, but also to the little girl I once was. Because she also deserved a good life and she’s gone, but she used to be mine.

chapter 12: contraction ballet

[geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde]

Fanning The Flames

Hello, hello! 

I am back with another fill for the @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo

This is a continuation of @jaskierswolf’s fic Burning Connections (it can be read as standalone but why would you want to when Wolfie’s fic is right there?!?!)

Prompt: Soulmates Title: Fanning The Flames Relationships: Geraskier Rating: M Content Warnings: Groping/under the table touching via foot in a public restaurant Summary: It’s been a week since Geralt and Jaskier stumbled across each other in a supermarket and realized they were soulmates, and now it’s time for their first date.

-

Geralt couldn’t remember a time he had ever been so nervous. His hands were shaky where they rested on his lap, his mind was racing as he yet again looked at the clock. He had arrived to the date half an hour early and here he was, fifteen minutes later, trying to calm his nerves.

Of course Jaskier wasn’t here yet, it made perfect sense. Geralt couldn’t expect anyone to be as early as he was normally and he certainly couldn’t expect anyone to be as early as he had been today.

Glancing around the restaurant again, as if he hadn’t already committed it to memory, a movement near the entrance caught his eye.

Jaskier.

The man looked stunning, his brown hair artfully disheveled. He dressed up beautifully, the well-tailored suit framing his body exquisitely. It was the most clothes Geralt had ever seen the man in. Geralt tried to will away the blush he could feel rising on his face as he got to his feet to greet him.

“Geralt, darling! I hope you weren’t waiting for me long.”

“No, not long at all,” Geralt lied.

Jaskier smiled, his eyes crinkling around the corners in a way that captivated Geralt.

“Shall we sit?” Geralt finally asked, gesturing behind him at his chair.

After taking a moment to get seated and flag down the waiter and order, the two lapsed into an awkward silence.

It wasn’t long before Jaskier broke the quiet, “How was your week? You sounded rather stressed the last time we spoke.”

Geralt nodded slightly, taking a sip of his water to delay having to answer, “It was just busy. I had a couple of doubles at the fire station and had some trouble getting a sitter, but we managed.”

Jaskier leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. His eyes sparkled mischievously, “I still can’t believe you’re a firefighter. The fantasies I’ve had…”

Geralt cleared his throat, “Believe me… I’m well aware of them.”

Jaskier laughed suddenly, head thrown back exposing the long delicate lines of his throat. Geralt couldn’t believe just how enamored he was with everything about the man in front of him.

His soulmate.

The very thought still sent Geralt’s head spinning.  The entire concept of soulmates had never made any sense to Geralt and he certainly had never believed in such things before but now, experiencing this… whatever it was, with Jaskier, Geralt felt significantly less doubt about the whole subject.

He had always thought soulmates were utter bullshit, and maybe he was still right, but he couldn’t help but be grateful for the excited fluttering he felt in his stomach every time his eyes were inexplicably drawn back to Jaskier’s, bright blue and easy to drown in.

The waiter arrived then with their meals and the two fell into a comfortable quiet and they dug in.

It wasn’t long before the conversation began again, spurred on by Jaskier’s chatty nature. The man was quick witted and funny and always had something to say. Geralt found himself laughing along easily, responding and sharing his own anecdotes, asking questions out of curiosity and a desire to know more about the man in front of him.

Geralt had never been a great conversationalist, preferring to be direct and to the point, avoiding anything more flowery, but now, listing to Jaskier’s wild explanations and tales, he couldn’t quite remember what he had found so wrong with flowery.

It sounded rather nice; truth be told.

Once dessert had been served, an indulgent chocolate cake topped with a decadent chocolate ganache, Jaskier leaned forward, his expression suddenly coquettish.

“So,” he began, picking up a fork and cutting into the cake, “tell me, have you had anymore fantasies lately?”

Geralt felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment even as his eyes followed the path of the fork until it was delicately placed in Jaskier’s mouth, lush lips wrapping around it. He had hoped that the man wouldn’t get any of his recent fantasies through their bond, but it seemed he hadn’t been so lucky.

Geralt jumped when he felt something brush his leg under the table. Jaskier smirked.

Oh.

Geralt felt something move up the inside of his leg slowly as Jaskier reclined in his seat. Jaskier’s foot.

The past couple of days, as Geralt had gotten more and more excited for his upcoming date he had also gotten more and more… excited. And using his hand perfunctorily in the shower hadn’t taken the edge off nearly as much as he would have liked. His growing frustration had certainly led to some more interesting ideas about what activities they could partake in on their date. One of which, it seemed, Jaskier was going to tease him with now.

Jaskier had kicked off a shoe and was now pressing his sock covered foot to the front of Geralt’s slacks where he could feel himself hardening under the contact.

Fuck.

Geralt looked around, dessert forgotten, suddenly feeling a desperate need to be somewhere not quite so public where he could shove Jaskier up against the nearest surface. He did his best to ignore the delicious friction pressed against his erection and flagged down the waiter quickly. Not willing to wait the time to get his card back, Geralt handed the waiter cash, declining change and giving the waiter at least a fifty percent tip.

As the waiter retreated from their table, Geralt’s eyes met Jaskier’s as he gripped the man’s ankle, rolling his hips into the pressure.

“I think it’s time we head out.”

Jaskier licked his lip seductively and pulled his leg back, “I think you’re right. Lead the way.”

-

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[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

Can I request something where sans keeps making excuses to keep Grillby talking? And when confronted, he admits that he just likes hearing Grillby’s voice? 👉👈

Haha, so this was going to just be silly fluff, I swear, but...  Look I swear it all works out and it’s really cute in the end. I hope you enjoy!

Talk to Me

Word count: 3323 Summary: Sans wants to hear from his boyfriend more, but he goes about it the wrong way.

“Hello Sans, this is Grillby. I just wanted to call and make sure you’re alright. It’s been two days since I’ve seen you at the bar… I asked Dogamy and Dogeressa if they’d seen you and they both said they haven’t. Are you ill? If you are, I could bring something for you and Papyrus, or- ah, well, I’ve been talking long enough. Forgive my rambling. Just send me a message to let me know you’re alright? I hope to see you soon.”

Sans let the voicemail play as he laid in bed, relaxing a bit. It had been months since Grillby left that message. Sans had some kind of flu and was bedridden for a week. As soon as Grillby heard, he came over with canned soup, cold packs, and audiobooks, giving Papyrus a break to rest and ensuring that both of the skeletons were well cared for. The audiobooks had been nice, but they’d been nothing compared to Grillby’s voicemail. When Sans heard it, it occurred to him that he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Grillby talk for that long in one go. The even rhythm of his voice was remarkably soothing. Sans had fallen asleep to that insignificant message more than once.

The skeleton felt a bit silly. He and Grillby were dating now. He had more than enough opportunity to talk to him. Something still felt off though. Even when they were outside the bar, Grillby was always a one-or-two sentences kind of guy. He never told any stories, he didn’t ramble on about his favorite subjects, and he never vented in length about his day. And then there was that phrase. “Forgive my rambling,” Sans muttered to himself, frowning. He’d heard that twice since he’d started dating Grillby, and something about it didn’t sit right with him. Speaking about dates with Grillby…

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Sans’s watch went off and he shot up. Shoot, he was late! Grillby had the evening off and they had agreed to meet up at the bar before going to MTT Resort for dinner. Grillbz made a reservation and everything! Sans hurriedly put on a black tuxedo-print shirt and then threw his freshly-washed jacket on top. That was about as close to fancy as Sans got.

Grabbing his phone, the skeleton took a shortcut to Grillby’s, where the bartender himself was waiting outside. Damn, he made Sans feel underdressed. Grillby had a black suit jacket on over his navy blue dress shirt, and it looked like he might have even ironed his usual bowtie for this. He was looking at his watch, making Sans feel a pang of guilt. This was what, the fourth time in a row he’d been late for a date?

Grillby didn’t seem to mind it. He glanced up and caught sight of Sans, smiling a bit. “I see you’re all dressed up,” he chuckled. “You look nice.”

“Not as nice as you, hot stuff.” Sans grinned, holding out a hand for Grillby. “Ready to go?”

Grillby nodded and took his hand. “Ready.”

Dating Start!

One moment, they were in Snowdin. The next, they were at MTT Resort, barely in time for their reservation. Sans had done a few comedy gigs at MTT before, so it wasn’t like it was a new place to him, but somehow going there with Grillby made it feel different. The lighting felt softer, the music seemed gentler, and when the two of them sat at their table, the smile Grillby gave Sans made the skeleton feel like he was dreaming. For the first time, MTT Resort Restaurant felt romantic.

“What are you thinking about?” Grillby asked, breaking Sans’s train of thought.

Sans chuckled. “You,” he responded honestly. “You make the whole room light up wherever you go.”

Grillby arched an eyebrow. “Well, I am made of fire.”

“Oh my god, you know what I meant,” Sans managed through his laughter. As he calmed, he gave the bartender a soft smile. “This is nice. I’ve been here a thousand times, but it’s different when it’s with you. A good different. You make everything better.”

Grillby blushed, smiling. “Sans… that was the sappiest thing I have ever heard.”

Sans grinned at his teasing. “Aww, you know you love me.”

“I do.” Grillby rested his arm on the table, opening his hand to Sans. The skeleton took him up on his offer and mimicked the gesture, holding Grillby’s hand on top of the table. Grillby ran his thumb over Sans’s knuckles, thoughtful as he looked at their joined hands.

Usually, from there, Sans would start the conversation back up with an onslaught of puns or start talking about his day. The skeleton’s thoughts drifted back to that voicemail. ‘Forgive me for rambling.’ Their talks were always pretty one-sided, huh? It didn’t seem to bother Grillby at all, but it bothered Sans. He wanted to hear his boyfriend ramble. He wanted to know what was going on inside the fire monster’s head. And, if he was being honest with himself, he just wanted to take a moment to bask in Grillby’s even baritone voice.

“What are you thinking about?” Sans asked.

Grillby hadn’t expected that question, looking up. “Us,” he answered simply, smiling a bit.

That wasn’t a satisfying answer! Sans pressed a little more. “What about us?”

“About the time we spend together.” Grillby met Sans’s gaze, eyes full of tenderness and beautiful firelight. “I have never felt greater happiness than I do by your side.”

Man, how did he manage to sound so romantic in so few words? Sans flustered, dramatically fanning his face. “I’m swooning. And you said I’m a sap? If I’m a sap,” he joked, “Then you’re the whole maple.”

Grillby chuckled. “So tonight’s joke theme is going to be trees, I take it?”

“You better be-leaf it.” Sans winked at him. “Hey, why do trees make the worst frienemies?” He waited for a beat, then said, “Because they’re the best at throwing shade!”

Sans sometimes wondered if Grillby would have laughed at that joke if it came from someone other than him. Whether or not he would, he was laughing now, and Sans wanted it to go on forever. Unfortunately, it didn’t. Grillby regained his composure and let go of Sans’s hand, picking up a menu. “While I hate to interrupt the pleasant-trees, we should figure out what we want to eat.”

“Heh, good one,” Sans mumbled with a smile as he picked up his menu. Aha! This could be the perfect opportunity! “You know,” he began, “I’ve been here for gigs, but I’ve never actually eaten here. All these fancy dishes sound super complicated. Can you explain some of this stuff to me?” Grillby was passionate about cooking, so surely he would have a few words on the matter. More than a few, hopefully.

Grillby glanced up over the top of his menu. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Uhh…” Good question! Sans hadn’t really thought about it. “I dunno. I’ll figure it out as we go?”

Grillby nodded and looked back down at the menu. “Alright.” He considered the dishes on the menu for a long moment. “What about the swiss steak? It’s a tenderized steak cooked in a pan with onions and tomato sauce. It appears in the recipe they use here they also add mushrooms. I can’t be sure, but as far as spices go I would guess- well. I’ve already explained the basics. Forgive me for rambling.”

“No no, you’re good! I…” Sans wanted to groan. Oh, come on! For a moment there, the skeleton had been able to get completely lost in Grillby’s voice, taking in every word. “I, um, I think that sounds good, but I want to hear about some other stuff first.” He scanned the menu, picking a random dish. “What’s, uh… beef stroganoff?”

Grillby tilted his head, locating the name on the menu with interest. “Oh, that’s another good dish. Stroganoff is made with small pieces of a marbled cut of steak, ideally sirloin or ribeye. The sauce is made with…” Grillby trailed off and adjusted his glasses. “Well, it’s a white sauce. It’s usually served over noodles.”

So. Freaking. Close! “Yeah, great,” Sans mumbled, looking for another food that might get the bartender talking. He’d seemed excited to share for a minute there, so why did he stop? It was so frustrating! “What about… how do you say this one? Cock-ow-vien?”

“Coq au Vin,” Grillby corrected gently. “It’s a chicken dish. The chicken is slow-baked with vegetables in a wine sauce.” He stopped there instead of going on as he had before. Darn. Operation Have-Grillby-Explain-The-Entire-Menu was a bust.

Sans ended up going with the ‘Coq au Vin’, mispronouncing it on purpose when he ordered so Grillby would give him that fond look of exasperation he loved so much. The skeleton chuckled and played innocent, shrugging. “What’s with that expression? I said it eggs-actly how you did!”

Grillby just rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder why I ever chose to date a comedi-hen,” the bartender sighed, smiling a bit at Sans’s resulting snicker. “So how was your day?”

Sans shrugged. “Eh, pretty much the usual. Papyrus tried out that waffle recipe you gave him today. It was… interesting.” Usually, he would elaborate, but he had something else on his mind. Time for Plan B: Make Grillby the center of attention! “Hey, you used to live around here, didn’t you?” Sans asked, abruptly changing the topic. “What was that like? As a kid?” If there was one thing any monster could go on about, it was childhood memories. Right?

Apparently not. “It wasn’t significantly different from living in Snowdin,” Grillby answered simply, eyeing the water the waiter had brought him as if it were going to jump out of the glass. “Just warmer.”

And… that was it. That was all Grillby had to say about it. If anything, the bartender seemed to be talking even less than usual. Sans was starting to get a little frustrated. “I’m sure it was different. More monsters, the construction of the Core… C’mon, Grillbz, don’t be shy about it. What was it like?”

“Noisy.” Grillby pushed the glass of water a bit further from himself. “That’s part of why I moved to Snowdin.”

Sans picked up the distracting glass and threw it over his shoulder. “Well then tell me why else you moved to Snowdin. Lava to snow seems like a pretty big shift just to get away from the noise.”

Grillby was caught a little bit off-guard, glancing over Sans’s shoulder before meeting his eyes again. “W-well, I’m an adult. It’s natural that I would leave home at some point, haha…”

“Yeah, but don’t fire monster families usually stick close together?” Sans asked.

“That’s correct.” Grillby adjusted his glasses, gaze falling to the table. “But I chose to open a business in Snowdin.”

Well, now they were just going around in circles. It seemed no matter what Sans asked or what buttons he pushed, Grillby was going to give him short, distant answers. The skeleton was beyond frustrated. Was it so much for him to ask to hear his boyfriend talk for more than a few seconds at a time?! He sighed inwardly as an oblivious waiter came by with their food, setting it on the table and cheerily asking if they needed anything else before walking off. The food looked nice, but the conversation tonight was… well, kind of nonexistent.

An awkward silence settled over the table as the two monsters looked at their plates. Unsurprisingly, Sans ended up being the one who had to break the silence. “So… Looks good. Why don’t you eat some and tell me what you think?”

Grillby wordlessly picked up his fork, taking a bite of the steak he’d opted for. He noticed he was still being watched and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I-it’s good,” he mumbled. Did Sans realize his eyes had darkened? Was everything okay? The fire monster was starting to feel like he was being interrogated.

“Yeah? Care to elaborate on that?” Sans knew he was being pushy, but he didn’t know what else to do. He wanted to hear Grillby talk. He wanted to see him let down his guard and ramble for once. Just once, he wanted to be the one listening instead of the one doing all the talking. Was that too much to ask?

Yes. Yes, it was.

Grillby suddenly stood up, keeping his gaze on the wall, the floor, anywhere but Sans. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, “I need to step outside for a moment.” 

Sans sat up straight, finally snapping out of his thoughts long enough to pay attention to his boyfriend’s body language. Grillby was on the defensive, tension evident in each flame of his body. Before Sans could say anything to stop him, the fire monster had rushed off, walking past him and exiting the building. Well, shit.

“What the hell just happened?” Sans mumbled to himself, going over the events of the evening in his head. Yeah, maybe he’d been a bit pushy with Grillby, but it wasn’t worth getting that upset over, right?

“What was it like?”

“Noisy.”

“Don’t fire monster families usually stick close together?”

“That’s correct.”

“Ah, well, I’ve been talking long enough. Forgive my rambling.”

“Forgive me for rambling.”

...Grillby’s been talking plenty, Sans realized, eye sockets widening. He’s been telling me he’s uncomfortable all evening. I just wasn’t listening.

Grillby sat against the wall outside of MTT Resort, sighing as he took off his glasses and hung his head. He felt so embarrassed. He just couldn’t figure out what he had been doing wrong, and if Sans had kept questioning him he was sure he was going to cry or yell or- or something unpleasant. It had been weird when Sans started asking about the menu as if he couldn’t read, but Sans was weird like that sometimes. It went from weird to uncomfortable when the skeleton started asking personal questions, practically demanding answers. The bartender wanted to answer them. It wasn’t fair that Grillby knew so much about Sans’s personal life and Sans knew so little of Grillby’s, but…

...well. The fire monster had his reasons for not talking about it on what was supposed to be a romantic date.

People talked to people. Grillby knew this. His patrons at the bar were always making small talk and rambling and telling their stories, and that was a good thing. That was how people got to know others and become friends. On more than one occasion, he’d find himself listening to a conversation and thinking of just the story to tell or just the comment to add.

On more than one occasion, he felt a hand on the back of his neck, shoving him down and reminding him that children were seen and not heard. Even as an adult, that inclination to only say what needed to be said and to say it as concisely as possible stayed stubbornly in the back of his throat, choking any stray chatter that might make trouble for him.

People talked to people. Grillby knew this.

It was just… hard, sometimes.

“Takeout for Gr- Grail-bee? Is there a Grail-bee here?”

Grillby put his glasses back on, looking up. Sans stood over him with a plastic takeout bag, the skeleton looking sheepish as he offered a smile. “Hey there, firefly. You okay?”

“I’m alright,” Grillby mumbled, moving to get up. Sans stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, sitting next to the fire monster instead. Grillby relaxed back against the wall, looking at the bag and immediately feeling guilty. “I’m sorry. I-” Grillby’s voice cracked and he took a deep breath, choking back the tears he’d been trying to avoid in the restaurant. “I ruined dinner, didn’t I?”

“No, no, Grillbz,” Sans quickly reassured, turning towards Grillby and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t ruin anything. C’mon, don’t cry- come here, it’s okay, I’m sorry.” He pulled Grillby into a hug, rubbing his back. “Shh, I’m sorry. I made you real uncomfy back there, and that’s on me. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

Grillby wrapped his arms around Sans, taking deep breaths. “Sans,” he finally mumbled, “I understand that you are curious about me and my background, but why were you so… insistent, tonight?”

“Weeellll…” Sans rubbed the back of his neck. “I honestly didn’t care about the question itself so much as I… wanted to get you to… ramble? You know, it sounds really dumb out loud, heheh…”

Grillby took a moment to process that, pulling away after a moment. “You wanted me to ramble?”

Sans chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I mean, I… I-i like the sound of your voice? It’s, um, calming.”

“It’s calming,” Grillby echoed, dumbfounded. All of that stress, just so Sans could listen to him talk for a few minutes.

Sans braced himself for the worst as Grillby lapsed into silence once again. He was going to be pissed, wasn’t he? “Look, I really am sorry, Grillbz. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just-”

Sans was cut off by a quiet snort of laughter. Grillby was… chuckling? Not just chuckling, he was laughing. He started to laugh and then couldn’t stop, resting his head on Sans’s shoulder as the fire of his hair danced with mirth. Needless to say, the skeleton was very confused. “So… Am I missing the punchline here or something?”

Grillby sat up, smiling at Sans with that fond, exasperated look again. “Sans, you numbskull… Why didn’t you just ask me to read you a book?”

Oh. Oh yeah. That probably would’ve been the easiest way to do it. 

Sans groaned and put a hand to his skull, sending Grillby into another fit of laughter at the skeleton’s expense. Sans figured he deserved it, after all the pressure he’d put on Grillby that evening. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I’m guessing this means you forgive me?”

Grillby calmed down, smiling at Sans before planting a kiss on the top of his skull. “Yes,” he said softly, “I forgive you, bonehead.”

“Cool,” Sans chuckled. “Sooooo… If I were to ask you to take me home with you and read to me…”

“The answer would be yes,” Grillby said with a small smile, standing up and offering Sans a hand. “I’ll even let you pick the book. But first, you have to go for a walk with me. We can take a shortcut once we reach Waterfall, not a moment sooner.”

Sans took Grillby’s hand and stood, opting to hold his hand as they walked instead of letting go. “Wow, that’s sweet, Grillbz. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a crush on me.”

Grillby rolled his eyes fondly. “Good thing we both know better.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence, walking side-by-side through Hotland. Grillby looked around himself as they did, smiling softly. Usually, Sans would be the one to break the silence, if it needed to be broken. Well, it had already been a fairly unusual evening, hadn’t it?

“I used to walk to school down this road,” Grillby suddenly commented, smiling fondly at the memory. “My brother Cole always walked with me, just in case something happened. Of course, the only time something did happen, he was at home sick and I was walking to school alone.”

“Oh?” Sans looked up at him, smiling brightly. Was he dreaming? Or was this really happening? “What happened?”

“Well,” Grillby began, “They had just started construction on a new steam puzzle nearby…”

Another day, Sans would sit down with Grillby and ask him why he moved to Snowdin. Another day, Grillby would be ready to tell him everything. For that evening, though, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was which book Sans would choose and how many pages Grillby could get through before they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Thanks for reading! If you like this, consider reblogging/leaving a comment telling me your favorite part! If you want to send me a prompt, my ask box is open! I hope you liked this!

[rabbitcruiser]

National Hot Dog Day 

Savor sizzling sausages in a bun with friends and family, experiment with various toppings and see how many you can wolf down on Hot Dog Day.

The sun is out, you’re at the amusement park, and the rollercoaster is filling the air with the clack-clack-clack of wheels on rails. The scent of a thousand different fair foods fill the air, but one stands out above all the rest. It’s rich, it’s savory, it’s the smell of a thousand mysterious meat products put into one delicious sausage casing, broiled up on a flame grill, and sent out on a bun with all the fixings. National Hot Dog Day celebrates this most delicious and tantalizing of treats, and its extensive history!

Learn about National Hot Dog Day

A lot of people are going to have fond memories of eating hot dogs. For some people, this reminds them of some of the fairs and fetes that they used to go to when they were younger. For others, it may remind them of the barbecues that they used to have with their families.

Or, maybe a hot dog is always your go-to snack when you go to a football or basketball game? There is no denying that hot dogs are tasty, yet we can’t eat them every day, as they’re not exactly bursting with nutrients. That’s why National Hot Dog Day is the perfect excuse for you to indulge in this treat.

A hot dog is simply a steamed or grilled sausage sandwich whereby the sausage is typically served within a finger bun, which is partially sliced to fit the sausage inside. The sausage used is a frankfurter or a wiener, which is a Vienna sausage.

Hot dog condiments and preparation vary regionally. For example, some of the typical garnishes include olives, bacon, coleslaw, grated cheese, chili, jalapenos, sauerkraut, onions. Typical condiments include cheese sauce, relish, mayonnaise, ketchup, and mustard.

History of National Hot Dog Day

Given the National Hot Dog Day is an international event, where it begins and who sponsors it tends to vary by region. In the USA it’s primarily the industry partners that participate in promoting it, whereas in other countries around the world it may be historical organizations celebrating the role it played in their history.

Did you know that the Frankfurter was named for the Germany city of Frankfurt, where it was said to originate? Well now you do! There’s even multiple varieties of Hot Dogs! The original hot dogs came in a natural casing, which in case you didn’t know were made from the small intestines of sheep. Intestines were regularly used for making all kinds of sausages, hotdogs included!

Then you have skinless hotdogs, in order to hold them together they’re cooked in a cellulose casing that gets taken off when they get packaged. Since cellulose is kosher and cheaper than kosher intestine, this is often how the frankly (heh heh) delicious Kosher Hot Dogs are often made.

National Hot Dog Day is celebrated all over, and if you’ve ever enjoyed a warm hot frank at a summer BBQ, then you’re no doubt celebrating too!

How to Celebrate National Hot Dog Day

The best way is to serve yourself up a great meal with hot dogs! Our personal favorite is the old classic, home-made mac and cheese served with slices of hot dog in it. We also really enjoy hot dogs in our chili, that’s if we don’t have a bun to make a classic chili dog.

Get all your friends together in your backyard and encourage them to bring their favorite frankfurters and condiments. Share stories of your first hot-dog, and all the memories you have around this classic summertime treat. There’s something about a hot dog with the slight char that comes from being grilled that always has us waiting for National Hot Dog Day.

If you really do want to do something a bit different on National Hot Dog Day, why not join a hot dog eating contest? If you think that you are going to be able to eat a lot of hot dogs within a specified period of time, you never know; you could end up being the champion!

However, we better warn you that there are people who enter eating contests for a living, and they train their bodies specifically for the task, so you’re going to be up against some stiff competition. Nevertheless, this can certainly be a fun and unusual thing to do, and you’re going to get to eat some hot dogs in the process, so everyone’s a winner, right?

If you take a look online, you will be able to see any food-eating contests that are going in your area. Of course, you could decide to host your own hot dog eating contest, between friends and family. This will certainly be a fun way to spend the day, and you will have more chance of winning. You could get everyone to pay an ‘entry-fee’ and this could be the prize fund for the winner.

Another way to celebrate National Hot Dog Day is by making your own hot dog creation. Hot dogs are typically served with ketchup, mustard, and onions, depending on your taste.

However, why not have fun experimenting with different toppings, to see what sort of creations you can come up with? There are so many different options, including crumbled gorgonzola, baked beans, grilled pineapple, pickled green beans, caramelized onions, and much more. You don’t know until you try it!

Crispy bacon is another popular one. Or, why not go for something completely unusual and out-of-the-box? You never know, you may be able to come up with the next big thing in hot dogs! If you do, be sure to share a photo on Instagram to get everyone’s mouth drooling!

Source

[aminiatureworld]

In My Dreams IV

Characters: Xiao, fm!reader

Word Count: 3,167

Warnings: Brief depiction of violence, nightmares

Premise: The past is many things. Something to admire, something to learn from, something to hold dear. And yet how unreliable it can be, especially in the hands of ghosts.

In which the reader dreams of the past.

Author’s Note: Translation notes and historical references will come after the fic. This one was a little sketchy/ooc, prolly because I’m tired.

Xiao

If there was one thing that you appreciated most about your relationship with Xiao it was the fact that he never attempted to cage your independence.

Though the adeptus had a penchant for clinginess – something he’d never actually admit to – the circumstances of both his and your past had set a standard for a level of separation that you greatly appreciated. You were never pressured to tell Xiao about things you weren’t comfortable sharing and in return you never pressed your partner in regards to topics or events that made him somewhat uncomfortable.

And yet there was something very isolating about such a freedom.

It was an ordinary enough commission, laughably so in fact, the kind that you could knock back in ten minutes flat if you put a little effort into it. Treasure Hoarders were once more encroaching on Liyue, this time gathering at the vicinity of Dunyu Ruins, something that would surely be a hazard to the archaeologists who gathered to study the lost jade monument. The act of chasing out the Treasure Hoarders was indeed easy enough, and it was only until you started rifling through their loot that you found yourself uneasy.

The lid was an innocuous enough item. Though the box that it once covered was nowhere to be found it must’ve been a work of art, as the smooth tortoiseshell lid was clearly the result of patience and love. Painted a deep blue it depicted a snowy scene, with a castle or cathedral at the front and center. The building itself was of a unique design; a tall turret stuck out at the top while small onion domes sat a little lower, each painted a more outlandish color than the last. The architecture was completely unlike what one might see in either Liyue or Mondstadt, and really there should’ve been nothing to it except the odd design of the building. Yet the moment you set your eyes upon the building you felt something harden in the pit of your stomach.

You never thought about what you couldn’t remember; after all, what was the point of it? Why mourn something you weren’t even sure was good or bad? Yet in that moment you felt that you would give very little to not remember just a little bit. At least enough to know why the image of a cathedral in the snow made you wish deeply for something you couldn’t remember, and frightened you just as much.

“Something’s wrong with you face.”

“Xiao!” You sputtered, surprised by the sudden bluntness of your partner. “My face is just fine, a little dirt won’t kill me.”

“That’s not it.” Xiao scowled. “Your face is harder than usual. Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened! Sometimes I just don’t smile, okay?” You instinctively moved the corners of your mouth upwards, trying to ignore the sudden jump in your heart rate. “I’m fine.”

Xiao looked supremely unimpressed at your efforts, sighing and flying up to the balcony of the Inn. You sighed, letting your expression once more droop. It was easy sometimes to forget how in tune Xiao was. You wouldn’t expect it from an adeptus who had spent thousands of years mostly secluded from humans, but your partner was impressively good at reading your mood. Usually you didn’t mind the ability of his, even welcoming the fact that he so bluntly brought up the question of your feelings. But today you wished despite yourself that he was a little less aware. After all, how could you explain to your partner what you didn’t even understand yourself?

The rest of the night was oddly tense. Though Xiao said nothing you could tell from the way he stared intently at your face that he hadn’t given up his suspicions. For your part you tried to ignore his gaze, talking about trivial matters such as the question of replacing the Guild roof and the fact that you had managed to gather a few Qingxin during your commissions. All the while you felt the roiling of your heart; and all the while you kept rubbing your fingers along the smooth finish of the lid in your pocket as if in doing so you might suddenly be struck with what you currently missed and currently, desperately, needed.

The next day you walked up to Katherine utterly exhausted. Though you’d made a concerted effort to sleep, knowing that if not you’d just arouse more worry in Xiao, most of the night had been spent tossing and turning, your eyelids feeling paper thin as you attempted to drag yourself down into the depths of sleep. Of course now that the sun was shining you felt like even a stone bench would be a soft enough mattress. Blinking heavily you smiled awkwardly at Katheryne.

“Any commissions today?”

“Two ordinary sweeps and one request.” Katheryne tilted her head slightly. “Are you sure you don’t need rest?”

“I’m perfectly fine Katheryne, thank you for worrying. You said there was a request?”

“Yes. It seems that the citizen who noticed the Treasure Hoarders for us claims to have been robbed by them. He says to meet you at Dunyu Ruins so you can hand over the item.”

“And what item is that?”

“He said it was some sort of box lid. He didn’t give many details I’m sorry. If you’re uncomfortable though of course we could send someone with you.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks for worrying.”

“Of course! Good luck!”

“Thanks.”

You turned around, trying to stem the ice that flooded your veins. Who was this man to whom the cathedral belonged? How did he come across such an odd item, was he from one of the other nations of Teyvat you hadn’t visited? Most of all you wondered if he held some connection to your past. The idea thrilled you in some way, though dread also lingered. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to meet this mysterious person. Commissions were commissions however; you wouldn’t betray the Guild. No matter how much you wanted to; you couldn’t.

The Dunyu Ruins were still, no monsters seemed to linger at the gates and no other adventurers peeked out from behind old walls. The air was utterly still, something which worried you greatly. Walking at an increased rate you sought out your mysterious commissioner. The more you thought about it the more you wished the whole thing to be over as soon as possible. Turning the corner you stopped in your tracks, gazing in awe at the person a few meters in front of you.

The first thing you thought was how oddly he was dressed. The second thing was that he was much younger than you had expected. The third thing was that you felt an odd sense of familiarity from him.

“Ah yes, the adventurer who accepted my commission. Have you brought what I asked of you?”

Though a response was certainly in order you found the words stuck in your mouth. Staring at him you felt the ground shift between your feet slightly. He was familiar, this young man in front of you, and yet he was also a perfect stranger. He seemed more like an apparition than anything, a spirit who had yet to cross to the far side. You stepped closer, reaching out your arm slightly. If you went to touch his shoulder, would your fingers go right through him?

“You really must think it’s odd that I’ve returned.” The man chuckled. “I assure you I’m completely real. You weren’t the only one to survive sister, though I know that information might be too little too late?”

“Sister?” You snapped out of your trance. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Surely you aren’t pretending not to recognize me? I think that’s beneath even you. Come now, was I such a brat as that?” Reaching out the young man went to grab your hand. Instinctively you pulled away, feeling discomfort shoot through you.

“I don’t know what you mean? And you certainly aren’t my brother! I’ve never had a brother!”

“Then who was the kid you lived with your whole life before the incident?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know about any incident or any brother. You asked me here to return something so I’m returning it.” Reaching for the lid you thrust the little work of art in front of you. “Here. Take it.”

“So you really don’t know who I am?” The young man reached out to take the lid. “How is that possible? Have they gone so far as to erase me from your memories? Have I been taken out of your family?”

“They?”

“The gods.” The young man’s eyes seemed incredibly harsh all of a sudden. “Their presumptiveness holds no bounds.”

“Don’t speak of the archons that way.”

“Answer me this,” the young man ignored your protest, “where are you from.”

“Why should I tell you that?”

“Humor me.”

“I…” You stood there for a moment, wondering whether or not you should tell this strange figure the truth. Morbid curiosity floated in your mind, and you took a sharp breath. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“So I really have been erased from your mind.”

“Nothing’s been erased! I just don’t remember, should that surprise you so much?”

“Yes, it does. I see my plans will have to be changed.” The young man took a deep breath. “Very well then, we shall see what we shall see. I have an offer for you.”

“And what is that?” You felt suspicion wash over you.

“Join the Abyss.”

“Over my dead body!” Instinctively stepping away you drew your polearm. So that’s what this was about.

“I figured you might say that. However, let me tell you this. Our family was torn apart by the cruel whims of faraway gods. Teyvat suffered the same fate, still suffers it. You may not remember what happened to us, but I know it is buried in you somewhere. If you wish to avenge our family, then you’ll join us.”

“I have no petty thoughts of revenge against the gods.”

“That may very well change.” The young man smirked. “I’ll be back in a week. I expect your answers then.”

He was gone before you could say anything, carried away by a blanket of purple stars. You stared at the empty ruins, confused and empty, feeling far worse than you had felt when you arrived here.

“You look worse.”

“Thanks Xiao.” You let out a sigh, unsure how to respond.

You’d spent the rest of the walk back to the Wangshu Inn in agony, thoughts darting back and forth as you tried to reason with yourself about the veracity of the young man’s claims. There was no proof he was who he said he was after all, no proof that he wasn’t simply insane, or trying to convince you to join him by lying. Yet there was something about him, his demeanor, his anger, something that spoke to a truth about him. Not that the idea made you any happier. After all truth or not, he was still an Abyss member, or at least an advocate. You could never side with him, even if he was your long lost family. And yet what if he was your family? What then? Would it truly be a betrayal then to simply send him packing?

Xiao’s hand enveloped your own, the soft warmth drawing you out of your confused thoughts. Looking up you found him leaning into you, the tips of his hair lightly brushing your cheeks. His eyes bored into you ask he scanned your face. You stood perfectly still. You knew what Xiao was doing, knew that he was trying to figure out the depths of your discomfort. It was valiant of him, even if you hoped that he turned up empty handed. How could you tell Xiao, an adeptus who served directly under Rex Lapis, about the man who blasphemed the gods.

“You should sleep.” Xiao finally pulled away.

“It’s still early evening.”

“You didn’t sleep well last night, I could tell. You should sleep now; maybe you’ll feel better.”

“Maybe.” You replied, knowing that even if you slept better than you had ever before nothing would change when you woke up.

Still your eyelids were heavy and your feet aching. Sleep beckoned you with open arms, and you were quick to fall into its depths. Pressing a soft kiss on Xiao’s cheek you made your way up the stairs. Collapsing onto your bed you let out a sigh of relief. Sleep was coming on fast, and you quickly found the outside world swirling away. The last thing you were aware of was a dent in your mattress, and a set of familiar eyes staring down at you, filled with affection and worry.

It was dreadfully hot. That was the first thing you were aware of. The second was how loud everything was. There was a terrible sound swirling around you, inhuman shrieks seemed to rise up from the ground beneath you, accompanied with a banging that cracked through the air, echoing oddly in a night that was all too quiet. The third thing was that you had no idea where you were. Looking around you found yourself reeling at the scene that met your eyes. The house in front of you must’ve been nice at some point, but now had fallen into ruin and disrepair. Smoke was drifting up from a door that led into the ground, and bottles lay in pieces on the ground. A wall seemed to separate the house from the outside world, so tall that you had no idea what lay beyond it. Trembling slightly you felt yourself move towards the source of the noise, feet moving despite the rising dread that you felt. Making your way down a set of stairs a few lines came to you all of a sudden.

A ceiling of amber, a pavement of pearl

The smoke was thicker now, filling your lungs, leaving you short of breath. Little bits of orange blurred your vision, wielded by strange men in strange uniforms. They seemed distorted in the smoke, made into ghosts that might haunt a child’s nightmares.

Through the narrow paved streets, where all was still

You didn’t move your head towards the back of the room, somehow you couldn’t. Your very soul fought against it. Instead you closed your eyes, overwhelmed with how hot it was.

“You’ve come so far and you can’t even look?”

The voice was mocking, familiar, full of scorn. Opening your eyes you stared at the men in front of you, the men with fire at the tips of their hands. Why did he want you to look? You knew what you’d see. Somehow you knew.

We climb’d on the graves, on the stone worn with rains

You couldn’t make it out among the smoke. All you knew was that it was red.

You screwed your eyes shut, even as sudden clarity danced before you. Someone was calling your name.

There was a hand on your shoulder.

And alone dwell forever

The smoke cleared, and with it the dream.

The scream ripped through your throat before you could even process it. You knew that you should stop, knew that you were no longer dreaming, knew that the hand on your shoulder belonged to your terrified partner. Still you screamed. You screamed and screamed and screamed.

“Hey. Hey!” Xiao’s voice was frantic. Shifting your gaze towards him you felt yourself begin to tremble.

“It, it was true. It was true, I saw him. I saw him. I saw me. It was true. I, I, they’re dead. They’re dead.”

“It was a dream. No one’s dead.”

“But Xiao, they’re dead. He was right, they’re gone and dead and somehow I forget them.”

The loneliness slammed into you, mixing with the horror that sent your stomach churning. You dug you nails into your palm, desperately trying to stop shaking. Everything seemed distorted, the light emerging through the window just as menacing as the dark.

“Take my hand.”

Xiao pulled one of your hands on his lap, gently opening it and running his fingers over the marks that now rested in your palms. Unfurling your hand you it was flat against his he covered it with his own. Letting his palm rest gently against yours he looked up at you.

“No one is dead. You were having a nightmare.”

“I was remembering, Xiao. I finally remembered something. And now I wish I never had.” You unfurled your other hand, wiping furiously at the tears that pooled in your eyes. “I’m so alone Xiao, I’m so alone.”

“You aren’t alone.”

“My family, my family is gone. The only one left is an Abyss member. I, I’m so utterly alone.”

You felt Xiao drop your hand slightly. The sudden lost connection made your founder for a moment, but soon the feeling was lost as Xiao wrapped his arms around you. Pressing kisses to your forehead his grip was tight and strong, encasing you utterly in soft comfort. Letting yourself collapse slightly you leaned into his embrace.

“You’ll never be alone. I’ll always be here.”

If promises were conveyed in actions then you had no reason to doubt Xiao’s. Though the air around you was sticky with heat you found yourself pressing into your partner’s chest eyes more, soaking up every bit of connection that you could get. Xiao said nothing more, simply keeping you in his embrace, lips brushing against your cheeks as he kissed away your tears.

You knew that he wouldn’t ask about your brother that night, perhaps not even the morning afterwards, or even tomorrow evening. After all your partner wasn’t one for words, and your relationship wasn’t built upon the expectation of painful transparency. If you weren’t ready to talk he wouldn’t push you.

Eventually your tears slowed, though the pain in your chest still burned like a brand. Bringing your hands to your chest you gazed up at the adeptus who was still wrapped around you.

“Can we stay this way a little longer?”

Xiao’s eyes gleamed catlike in the moonlight. Leaning down he brushed his lips against yours, sighing slightly as you met him with exhausted ardor. Pulling back you rested your head on your partner’s chest. The dulled beat seemed almost musical, a reminder that Xiao was alive, a reminder that he was right next to you.

You had assumed in some way that it meant he didn’t care, or didn’t want to know. Though you would’ve never thought that before, the feeling of loneliness that had threatened to swallow you up had made that perfectly clear. Yet Xiao did care, cared enough not to prod and poke at wounds that were surely bleeding even now. Cared enough to kiss your worries away, cared enough to let you embrace him as long as you needed. Cared enough to show that you weren’t truly alone. 

In a week you’d give the young man who had once been your brother an answer. In a week you’d face the fact of your loneliness, of a family that you’d once been a part of. In a week you would let yourself be truly lonely. But until then you would listen to the familiar beat of Xiao’s heart as you remembered that you weren’t truly alone. That you never would be.

-------

The box lid itself was based off nothing in particular. The building painted on it is a reference to Saint Basil’s Cathedral. 

The poem I used was “The Forsaken Merman” by Matthew Arnold

The scene in the reader’s dream is a reference to the execution of the last Imperial family of Russia. It took place in the basement of the Ipatiev House in Ekaterinburg on July 17th/18th 1918. 

[manonblaqkbeak]

Group Hang

..........me again. i haven’t written in so long and it feels good to start it up again. this time it’s a human au. just fluff and aelin’s bad cooking and rowan defending her bad cooking because he actually likes it

3083 words

When Aelin had suggested a dinner at their house for the next group hangout, Rowan was more than happy to accommodate that suggestion.

The last hangout was bowling, and while Rowan excelled at many sports, bowling was strangely not one of them. He almost got banned from the local one when he started swearing his head off when his last bowl was close to becoming a strike when it veered to the side and didn't knock down a single pin.

All their friends behind him starting laughing, Aelin too, when he started going on about how the floor was uneven, the game was rigged and just had a general hissy fit that he never had in his entire adult life.

To be fair, he had one too many beers and it was hot as hell in the bowling alley, the air conditioner barely working that night. So he blamed those conditions on his attitude.

To make it worse, Aelin had managed to snap a picture of him sulking in his seat, posted it on her Instagram with the caption 'when your old man sucks at bowling and comes last'. Rowan hadn't realised it until the morning when he woke up to dozen of notifications from people tagging him and laughing.

Apparently, according to his comment, Fenrys saved the picture and made it Rowan's contact photo. With others saying that they were going to do the same.

Even Lorcan, the stoic bastard, had found it funny.

Aelin laughed at his expression as they laid in bed together, and laughed harder when he sputtered, “I'm only five years older than you!” and fucked her with the vigorous strength of a thirty year old healthy man (Aelin had never climaxed so hard, which made Rowan puff up with pride afterwards, with Aelin rolling her eyes, even though her blood was singing in her veins and a dopey grin was on her face—it was her her secret joy to ruffle Rowan's feathers whenever she could).

So yes, while the aftermath of the bowling night was much better than his losing, he was more than glad to have a quiet night at home; although his friends weren't really the quiet bunch, especially when Aelin, Lysandra and Fenrys had one too many.

However, what he wasn't expecting when he and Aelin went grocery shopping that Saturday morning was when Aelin claimed that she was going to be cooking.

Now, Rowan loved Aelin, loved her so much that he had started planning the night he would propose to her, but the thing about Aelin was that she couldn't cook—at all.

But he grew to love her cooking; came to love the burned crunch that always accompanied it, came to love the under-cooked and overcooked food, loved the dryness of what she piled on his plate when it was her night to cook, the lumpy and misshapen cakes that she made whenever the desire to bake came to her.

Aelin was skilled in many things and cooking was just something she completely sucked at—like Rowan and his bowling. Truly, he didn't mind, although it did stump him how she managed to ruin a sandwich when she sometimes made his lunch for him for work.

Unfortunately, their friends were not him. Dorian, Gods bless him, still went on about the time Aelin accidentally gave him food poisoning on his twenty-first birthday with the homemade cake she gifted him.

Which was why Rowan was the cook in the relationship. His father was a chef and while Rowan wasn't as good as him, he knew enough to cook well and how to present food on a plate.

While they started their weekly shop, Aelin claimed that she was making lasagna, and Rowan was all ready prepared for the under-cooked pasta sheets, salty marinara sauce and overly milky Béchamel sauce and dry mince meat.

He offered to help but she said she would be fine. They continued their shop, with Rowan always appreciating the sight when she had to bend over to pick up something, with Aelin in turn appreciating the sight of Rowan's muscles moving smoothly when he reached for something on the high top shelves.

So here they were, hours later, Rowan watching Aelin as she moved around their kitchen, adding things in from time to time (he was fairly certain he saw her dump some cinnamon in the mince meat, but didn't say anything). She did ask for his help to stir the Béchamel sauce as she made her homemade salad dressing (which would more than have too much olive oil in it, but again, Rowan didn't mind).

He noticed that the sauce was lumpy and on closer inspection, realised that it was large chunks of onion (and why were there large onion chunks? Because she was wanted an obscene amount of onion, she said when he asked about it).

It smelled good though when it was all done and his stomach grumbled as it rested on the kitchen counter, with Aelin rushing to have a quick shower.

Her quick shower always meant twenty minutes, but Rowan tidied the kitchen as she showered and placed the store-bought garlic bread in the oven when the doorbell rang.

Sighing at the incoming whining that would occur when everyone realised that Aelin had cooked, Rowan trudged over to the front door, painted a beautiful shade of Terrasen green.

Rowan barely opened his mouth to greet everyone before they made themselves at home—Fenrys holding a large pink box from Nesryn's bakery, but the woman wasn't in the group, she had a dinner with her fiance's family tonight.

What did surprise him was Yrene's curly head as she walked in with Chaol, the man's hand wrapped tightly on his walking stick as the couple made their way inside. Yrene was a nurse at Terrasen hospital and worked insane hours, so it was a nice surprise to see her.

Dorian and Manon walked in, the latter holding three bottles of Dorian's fathers expensive wine (which either one of them probably took without asking), her black diamond engagement ring sparkling even at night. Dorian claimed that he stole it from his father when he was a teenager and he never even noticed, apparently his father didn't bat an eye when he saw the ring on his future daughter-in-law's ring finger.

Elide and Lorcan followed Lysandra and Aedion, the dark haired man having to duck slightly to walk inside.

The only people missing, other than Nesryn and Sartaq, were Vaughn and Connall—but he knew that the last two were now working night shifts and that it would be hard to catch up with them from now on. Nehemia too, as she was currently on vacation visiting her parents.

Aedion sniffed at the air as they all made themselves comfortable in the lounge room. “Where did you guys order from? It doesn't smell too bad.” And truthfully, the food did smell good—that was something that surprised Rowan about Aelin's cooking, that while somehow everything tasted bad, it always smelled like it came from a five star restaurant.

“Aelin cooked lasagna,” he said and all eyes turned to him, “and there's plenty for everyone,” he added, before any of them could make some flimsy, bullshit excuse about how one of them should maybe order a pizza.

“What do you mean, she cooked?” Dorian asked, eyes wider than everyone else's. His tone implying that she somehow managed to create a radioactive bomb.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “I mean, she's been in the kitchen all evening preparing a dinner for all of us, so you better shut up and eat it, is what I mean when I say she's cooked.”

The timer went off for the garlic bread so Rowan went into the kitchen, but before he did, he deliberately locked the front door, making sure everyone watch him do it.

He wasn't about to let them upset Aelin just because she was a bad cook.

“Yrene, do you have, like, a food poisoning kit on you, by any chance?” Dorian asked.

Yrene snorted. “No, Dorian, you'd have to go to the hospital for that.”

“Oh, Gods,” he cried.

“Dorian,” Chaol sighed, having witnessed many moments of Dorian acting like he was minutes away from dying. “You're twenty-five now, and you're not dead. I'm certainly not, and I dated Aelin for a year.”

“Yeah, when you were eighteen and she was seventeen, I don't think she even went near an oven at that age.” Dorian and Chaol were Aelin's oldest friends, as well as Elide, so they would know.

“I can hear you, you know,” Rowan said from the open kitchen, cutting the garlic bread in equal slices.

“It's okay,” Fenrys said, smiling. “I've got cake from Nesryn's and Manon has good wine, so tonight will be salvageable.”

Rowan pointed the knife at his friend, silently telling him to shut up.

Aelin chose that moment to exit the bathroom, her towel wrapped tightly around herself. Her smile was warm as she smiled at everyone and greeted them. “I'll be done in a couple of minutes, so everyone sit at the dining table. Rowan, could you see to the serving?”

“Of course.” She quickly came over to place a kiss on his cheek and rushed for the bedroom. Everyone went to the table, Dorian acting like he was walking to the electric chair, Manon rolling her eyes at his theatrics.

The glass dish was still hot as hell, so Rowan walked over carefully, hands wrapped in giraffe oven mitts, Lorcan snorting at the sight.

“Shut up,” Rowan muttered as he placed the dish down, took the mitts off and started cutting up the lasagna. He plonked down the slices, pointedly looking at everyone as he did so (except Yrene and Chaol—the young nurse saying that she's had worse cafeteria food, quickly throwing a no offence when she realised what she said, and Chaol, like he had stated, he had Aelin's food before and was fine—joking that his spinal injury was from a freak accident rather then from Aelin's cooking).

Dorian still didn't look happy, and Fenrys was frowning at his plate. Elide poked at it with her fork, Manon inspecting it with narrowed eyes. Lorcan was stoic as always.

“I swear to the Gods I can smell cinnamon,” Lysandra said. “Rowan, did Aelin put cinnamon in this?”

Rowan shrugged and acted like he didn't know.

Sitting down, Rowan looked at his friends and said, “I know Aelin's cooking isn't the greatest—”

“She's definitely not winning any prizes in the future,” Aedion muttered but promptly shut up at the scathing glare that Rowan sent his way.

“But she's been in the kitchen all evening, as I said before, and she's really excited for you guys to try it. It may be under-cooked and dry, but you if you cannot even afford the common decency to offer her respect after making everything from scratch and act like adults instead of sulking children, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave. And Dorian, do not bring up food poisoning for the rest of the night."

Rowan got mumbled apologies, with the man feeling like a scolding father, but they all sat up straight as Aelin entered, dressed and her hair thrown into a messy bun.

They all dug in, and as expected, the lasagna sheets were under-cooked, the Béchamel sauce a little too milky and far too onion-y, the marinara sauce too salty and there was definitely a hint of cinnamon in the meat, but everyone ate it, with Lorcan claiming that it wasn't too bad—which was high praise coming from him, but then again, it could be a lie, he was fairly good at that, something Rowan knew from experience. The salad did have too much olive oil, but the dressing was nice.

Dorian, though, still looked like he was being sent to his death, but ate his food, only lightly gagging once. Aelin didn't notice, thankfully, too caught up in her conversation with her cousin about the upcoming Whitethorn family reunion that she and Rowan were expected to attend. They both had mixed feelings about it since Rowan had a large family and he couldn't stand a number of his cousins and everyone would bring up his dead parents, whose death still hurt even after ten years, as they passed away suddenly. Aelin wasn't looking forward to it, since one of his cousin's was dating his ex-girlfriend Remelle and Aelin could not stand the woman for multiple reasons.

Everyone ate everything on their plates and once the wine was emptied and the cake reduced to crumbs, everyone left, thanking Aelin and Rowan for their hospitality and everyone starting to suggest what the next night out would be as they left.

Aelin and Rowan cleaned in tandem, Aelin changing into her stag pyjamas as Rowan had a quick shower himself (which was actually a quick one) and soon joined her in bed, kissing her cheek as she settled in for the night, picking up his current read.

After long minutes, Aelin said, “I heard what you said to everyone.” Rowan's eyes snapped over to hers, finding Aelin lying on her side, a soft smile on her face. “Is my cooking really that bad?”

“Not to me,” he said truthfully. “I like your brand of cooking.”

“Even the burnt toast?”

“Especially the burnt toast.”

Aelin leaned over and kissed him on the lips, once, twice, three times. “I can't believe that Dorian still goes on about the food poisoning. I think he'll still be going on about it when he's on his death bed.”

Rowan snorted at the imagery that popped up. “He probably would.”

“I have to admit that I liked how authoritative you sounded,” Aelin said, “it turned me on more than it should have.”

Rowan ran a hand up and down her arm. “I'll have to use it more often then.”

“You will,” Aelin agreed, leaning in to kiss him again. Aelin snuggled into him, tucking her head under his jaw with Rowan wrapping his arms around her.

Rowan was on the verge of drifting off when he felt Aelin placed her chin on his chest. “Rowan?”

“Hmm?”

“Rowan, will you marry me?”

He woke up at that and found Aelin's blue and gold eyes shining brightly in the lamp light. “Pardon?” was all he could manage.

Sitting up, Aelin placed a hand over his heart, Rowan's hand covering hers instinctively. Giving him a beautiful smile, the one he fell in love with, she said clearly, “Rowan, I love you so much that I can't even put it into words how much I love you—but I do know this; you're my soulmate and I don't ever want to be away from you. I love you with everything I am. So, Rowan, will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?”

Tears filled Rowan eyes as he looked at the woman he loved with everything he had. “Of course, I will.”

Crying happily, Aelin launched herself at him, kissing him wildly, wrapping her arms around him. Until she suddenly pulled away and almost fell off the bed in her haste to reach for the velvet box she had hidden in the bottom draw of her nightstand.

Inside it was a gold ring, inlaid with a brilliant ruby and engraved in the band were the words 'to whatever end', their promise to each other.

The ring fitted him perfectly and Rowan sat up, capturing her face in his warm hands as he kissed her, their tears falling.

Pulling back, Rowan gave her a smile and went to his own nightstand and showed Aelin the velvet box he had hidden away. Aelin gasped in delight at the sight of it, a wide blooming on her face as he opened it and saw his mother's gold and emerald ring.

Also engraved in it were the words 'to whatever end'.

Aelin was sure she was going to die from pure happiness.

“Aelin, I love you more than anything. I'm so glad I met you in that dingy gym all those years ago. And I don't ever want to be away from you, too. Will you do me the honour of being my wife?”

“Yes, of course, yes,” she said, crashing into him again. Rowan's fingers shook as he placed the ring on her finger. “Thank you for loving me and all my bad cooking.”

Rowan laughed heartily and kissed her soundly. “Thank you for loving me and all my sucking at bowling.”

“You really are bad at it,” she said, laughing.

“I know,” he agreed, kissing her.

This was better than any idea he originally thought of when he started thinking of ways to propose. And it was perfectly Aelin that she proposed first, considering that she was the one that asked him out first all those years ago, to say 'I love you' and to ask to find a house and be Adults together with a mortgage and everything it entailed.

And in the morning, after a rare sleep in, she called her parents and told them the news, Evalin barely able to get any words out as Aelin told them how it happened, even Rhoe, who was a bit of a stoic man, teared up at the story.

They went to their favourite cafe afterwards, getting a slice of chocolate cake on the house as Aelin told their regular waitress their news.

They went to the local garden, after visiting his parents grave, with Aelin snapping a picture of their jewelled hands, the sun making their rings sparkle in a brilliant glow and posted it on her Instagram with a simple caption stating, 'We both said yes'.

Rowan posted the same photo, the first he had in months, since he didn't post often, and he much preferred the streams of congratulations that came their way, their phones soon blowing up with calls after calls.

And as the the sun shone brighter on the beautiful day, Aelin let loose a snorting laugh that had her choking when Dorian pleaded, “Please don't bake your wedding cake. I really don't want to be sick on your special day, I'll feel like an arsehole.”

Rowan promised that she wouldn't and laced his fingers in his fiance's hands as they went to his car towards their home, deciding that last night was the best group hang that they ever had.