#vintage crocks

[misforgotten2]

To save some money I bought a Crack-Pot slow cooker. I’ve must have been crazy.

Reader’s Digest - December 1973

[brocantevintage]

[1950s-housewife]

Hey everyone!

It’s finally October. You know what that means?? It’s Crock-tober!

Reblog or comment with your favorite crockpot recipes!

[nashvillehotchicken]

effortless one-pot meal! it only takes two hours to make and you reuse the same pot three times!

[a1307s]

Take Me From You #1

(Jason Todd Smut)

[Art is not mine! Credit to xxxviciousxxx (found on Reddit)]

Keys:

Y/N - Your Name

N/N - Nick Name

Word Count: 3,252

Warnings and/or pre-notes:

Fingering

Name Calling: Good Girl, Princess, Daddy, Baby, Babes, Slut, and Bitch

Cursing

Biting

Domination/Submission

Spanking

Mentions of blood/bleeding

Mentions of safe words

Orgasam Control

Titty Sucking

Degrading

Back scratching

Thigh Cum Shot

———————————————————————

The first sound I hear walking into the Wayne Manor is the sound of Bruce's study door slamming shut. The vintage wood crocks from the powerful slam before the manor is once again silent. I stand frozen in the foyer as I wait to see what or who disturbed the peace in the usually silent mansion.

Heavy footsteps cause the floorboards to creak. Instantly I rule out Richard for the fact that he walks with the grace of a bird which leaves the ancient floor silent under his feet. Alfred is quickly erased from the list as well under the ruling that he knows every creak and crook the manor makes, leaving the manor silent as he walks through it. That leaves Jason or the head of the house himself; Mr. Wayne.

I take in a soft breath and hold it as I wait to see if my spunky hot head of a boyfriend rounds the corner or if his makeshift narcissist father rounds it instead. Slowly a pair of smokey green eyes appear from the shadows of the hallway. Small dust particles softly float in front of Jason's eyes showing off how bright the green shines from the shadows.

"You should probably exhale," He says, making quick and rigid movements toward me. I slowly let out a breath as Jason's heavy arms slide on to my waist. "You weren't supposed to be here until six," He whispers as if he's worried about scaring the light layer of dust that always seems to cover the manor no matter how much Alfred cleans.

"It's six thirty, Jay. I'm actually late," I whisper back, focusing on his bright emerald eyes sparkling in the dark entryway. Darkness coats the both of us leaving it impossible to make out any of Jason's other features. He's so close that I can feel his heavy breath coating my face.

"Oh," is all Jay squeaks out as his arms tighten around my waist. We stand in silence letting the darkness comfortably envelope us for a couple more minutes before another set of heavy footsteps are heard coming from the study. "I'm sorry," Jason murmurs before he gently starts tugging me toward the wall. His arms are light but firm as my feet gently slide against the wood floors. Once Jay's back hits the wall he leans his head down to my ear. "Close your eyes," he whispers before gently wrapping his hand over my mouth.

My heart rate raises as Bruce's footsteps get close. I have no clue what has happened today but from Jason's short responses I can safely assume it's nothing good.

Footsteps soon enter the foyer followed by two voices. "You shouldn't be so hard on him, Burce," a soft and gentle voice says. I instantly recognize it as Richard's.

"If he doesn't want me to be hard on him, maybe he should act less like a Gotham hood rat and more like the Robin you used to be," comes Bruce's response with no mercy for anyones' feelings or opinions but his own.

"He's not going to be exactly like me, Bruce. We're two - " Richard's response is cut off as they round the corner and head toward the kitchen.

Once they're a safe distance away from us Jason unwraps his hand from my mouth and leans down to my ear again. "You can open your eyes, N/N." Jason's voice is uneven but I can't tell if it's from anger or sadness.

Slowly I obey, opening my eyes to be met with darkness again. Jay roughly lays his hands back on my waist and gently pushes me forward so he's not pinned to the wall anymore. "We're going upstairs," He says, continuing to gently push me towards the obnoxiously giant stairway.

The darkness is filled with the soft pitter patter of Jason's patrol boots and my sneakers hitting the marble stoning used on the stairs. Once we get to the top the sound is cut off by the worn cream carpet of the hallway. I count the doors as we pass them. One... two... three... four... The familiar caution tape and vintage rock band posters on Jason's door stand out from the plain walnut wood doors.

Jay's arm stretches around me to reach for the door handle. His hand lands on it but before he turns it he leans down to my ear again. "I really think you should get yourself comfy on my bed as I change or else there's going to be more aches in you than usual," Jason whispers before turning the handle.

The door creaks open as butterflies start filling my stomach. Whatever happened between Jason and the two older crime fighters was nothing close to good and I get to pay for their mistakes.

Gently Jay pushes me inside the door before letting it swing shut. I keep my eyes locked on the outline of Jason's bed and take slow steady steps towards it. The sound of the door locking sends shivers up my spine and heat down to my core. By the time my thighs make contact with the bed Jay is already in the bathroom. My hands gently clench my boyfriend's red bed sheets as I climb up into the massive king size bed.

When Jason and I first started dating he only had a small air mattress to sleep on so the upgrade was uneasy for the both of us.

I crawl toward the middle of the bed, gently placing myself with my head on top of his fluffy pillows and letting my legs stretch out in front of me. The soft thud of Jay's Robin custom hitting the floor causes my nerves to jump up in anticipation. To try and ease my nervousness I focus on untying my shoe laces and kicking my sneakers off my feet.

When I look up from my socks my eyes lock with Jason who is standing at the edge of the bed with nothing on but his boxers. The color of his eyes have turned from a bright emerald color to a dark forest green and his pupils are dilated. Slowly, Jason places a knee on the bed and reaches out for my ankle. As soon as his hand is around it, he tugs me forward.

My head slides off the pillows as the rest of me is pulled towards him. Jason rests his other knee on the bed before wrapping my legs around his waist. "Are you going to be a good girl?" He questions me as his eyes wander down my body. I nod my head knowing it'll tick him off even more. "Use your words," Jay hisses from behind clenched teeth.

"Yes, I'll be a good girl," I murmur back, waiting for his next move.

Jason slides his hands down my legs with slow and careful fingertips making sure to feel every inch of fabric covering my skin. When he gets to my waist band he hooks his fingers underneath. "I can't wait to make you tremble under me," He says before shimming my pants down my legs and tossing them somewhere into the darkness of his room. "Is that what you want? Do you want me to make you tremble?" He asks me, sliding his hand over my clothed core.

I nod my head again as my teeth sink into my lip. A soft tch tch tch comes from Jason. "I already told you once to use your words. Since you can't listen I recommend you flip yourself over because if I have to do it myself I won't be happy," He says with a hatch undertone.

"No," I squeak out as a response.

Before I know what's happening Jason wraps his arm around my back and flips me over onto my hands and knees. "You really want to back talk me right now? Do you really think that's a good idea? Huh? I guess I'm going to have to remind you what entitled princesses get when they disobey, won't I?" Jason's words come out sharp as he gently rubs my behind.

"Lose the panties and keep your eyes forward," He says after a few more soft circles on my ass. I obey, keeping my eyes locked on his oak headboard as I slide my panties off my legs.

The cold air hits my pussy like a shock wave. Before long the cold air is replaced by Jason's warm hand. Jay's rough palm cups my heat as he places soft kisses along my back. "Be a good girl for daddy, okay?"

"And if I don't?" The question gets me a hard smack of a belt on my ass. "H-hey!" I yelp out, followed by a soft whimper.

"Since someone can't remember basic rules and manners I guess we'll have to go over them until you get them right," Jason says, slowly sliding a single digit into my pussy. "Who's in charge?" He asks, slowly curling his finger inside me.

"Me," I answer back, getting another quick smack to the ass. "Y-you," I whimper out, biting my lip to help hold the forming sobs back.

"One more time, Princess. Who's in charge?" Jay asks again, slowly running his leather belt over the previous spanked cheek.

"You," I repeat, getting rewarded with a soft kiss to my back and a faster pace of his finger.

"Good job baby!" Jason says with a slightly cheerful tone. "Now, what's my name princess?"

"Jackass," I answer back before I can stop myself.

Jay delivers five fast and painful swats to my ass with his belt before pulling his finger out of my and wrapping his hand around my throat. His fingers press down on my veins, slowing the blood flow to my head. Using the hand around my throat Jason lifts me up against his bare chest. "You want to fucking repeat that?" He hissed into my ear. "Go ahead, I dare you."

After the words spill out of Jason's mouth he sinks his teeth into my shoulder. My skin burns under the feeling of him biting me. His teeth sink deeper and deeper into me. By the time I manage to peep out an "I'm sorry" I'm sure he's already drawn blood.

Jason let's go of me completely, causing me to fall back onto my hands and knees like before. "You better be," He warns as he runs his fingertips over the bite mark. "This is your last chance Y/N. Pop an attitude and I'll beat your ass until it bleeds, am I understood?" Jay asks me, sliding his fingers down my spine and causing goosebumps to follow.

"Yes," I whisper.

"What... is... my... name?" Jason takes his time getting the question out, making sure to pronounce every word like it's a threat.

"Daddy," I answer back softly.

In return Jay slides two fingers back into me. "Good girl," He hums, slowly curling his fingers in me. "Are you going to be a good girl for daddy?"

"Yes Daddy," I answer, rolling my hips back to try and get a little more friction.

Jason gives me what I want by adding another finger and picking up the pace. "Before you get what you want you have to tell Daddy the rules, alright? What's rule number one?"

I scramble through my brain trying to find the right answer so I don't lose the attention I desperately need in my pussy. "Um... Um... U-use the safe word whenever I need it," I manage to stumble out between my pants.

"What's our safe word again?"

"Peaches," I answer back as my legs start to shake from the want to cum.

"Good job baby," Jason says, speeding up the pace of his fingers again. "What's rule number two?"

"D-daddy tells me w-when I can cum."

"You're doing so good, princess. Just one more rule and then I'll let you cum all over my fingers."

Jay litters soft kisses on my back as I try to piece together my words. "All.. always... um... always listen... listen to Daddy," I finally manage to get out.

"Good job baby!" Jay says, managing to move his digits even faster in me. "You can cum for daddy now," He tells me. After a few more curls of his fingers the band in my stomach finally breaks.

My head hangs as I pant to catch my breath. Before I manage to steady my breathing Jason flips me over onto my back. "It's my turn to have fun now babes," Jay tells me, pushing my shirt up my stomach until I pull it over my head. "I can't wait to suck on your tits," He says, reaching his hands behind my back to unclasp my bra.

Once it's undone Jason strips it off of me and adds it to the growing pile of clothes on the ground. Jay positions himself between my legs so his clothes crotch is rubbing up against my bare pussy. One of his hands firmly handles my boob as his mouth wraps around the nipple of the other one.

A moan slips from my mouth as Jason slithers his tongue over my nipple. He circles his hips to match the pace of his tongue. The spring in my stomach starts to tighten again as Jay keeps playing my nerves like a fiddle. When I get close to my climax, Jason switches his movements up. His hands and mouth switch my boobs around and his hips start circling in the opposite direction.

"Baby, I want you," Jason mumbles into my chest, moving his hips up in a swift and harsh thrust. "Are you ready for me baby?" He asks, moving his head from my chest up to my face.

Jay's nose rests gently against mine as he peers into my eyes. His eyes have gone back to their sparkly emerald color instead of the harsh green from before. "Yes," I whisper out, reaching down for the waistband of his boxers. I slowly pull them off of Jay, getting the reaction of his dick bouncing out and softly slapping his stomach.

Jason leans down, brushing his chapped lips against my own. "You always taste so sweet," He says, softly sliding his penis against my folds. "Are you going to take all of me, Princess?" Jay asks, poking the tip of his dick into my entrance.

"Yes Daddy." Before the words are fully out Jason slams himself into me, causing me to yelp out in surprise. "H-hey! G-gentle," I whimper out, shifting myself around to get more comfortable with Jason filling me out.

"You're gonna take it how I give it to you, my little slut," Jay says, leaning down and whispering the last three words into my ear. All I do in response is whimper and wrap my arms around his shoulders.

Jay's hips start roughly bucking in between my legs, letting me know my hips are definitely gonna ache later. "Look at you, taking all of me like the good little bitch you are," Jason says, sliding his hand up and letting the heavy weight of it rest on my neck. "Such a pretty little slut," He says, starting to squeeze the sides of my neck again.

Jason picks up his pace, squeezing harder the faster he goes. Pants spill out of me as Jason brutally bruises my insides. "Mmm.. J-Jay..." I mumble, digging my nails into his shoulders.

"Try again," He says, loosening his grip on my neck so I can catch my breath. "What's my name, Baby?" He asks, going back to his deadly grip on my neck once I catch my breath.

"D-daddy," I say, tears starting to spill down my cheeks. "Y-your name i-is Daddy," I squeak out.

Jay softly chuckles, bending his head down and sinking his teeth into the side of my neck. The familiar burning sensation reappears but this time it's on my neck instead of my shoulder. "Are you ready to cum for Daddy?" He asks, lifting away from my neck just to turn it to the other side and leave another bite print.

"Y-yes," I manage to get out between gasps of air.

Once Jason is satisfied with the mark he lifts his head up and lets go of my neck. "Then cum on my cock like the pretty little slut you are," Jay says, keeping his eyes locked on me without his thrusts ever wavering.

A few more thrusts later and the tight spring inside me finally lets loose. "Jay!" I moan, shooting up and wrapping myself even closer to him as I finish.

"Good job, Baby. Good job," Jay mumbles, brushing his hand through my hair. "You did so good for Daddy," Jason continues, softly thrusting into me.

"Jay," I mumble tears stricking down my face as I bury my head into my neck.

"I know baby but I'm so close, just a few more," Jason says, laying me back down on the bed. His head is buried in my neck, softly brushing kisses against my skin as he thrusts into me. "Shit," He mumbles, pulling out of me.

I keep my eyes locked on him as he coats my thighs with his warm seed. When he's done, Jay lays his head in the creak of my neck and pins me to the bed with his body weight. His breath is heavy and hot against my skin as he catches his breath. I slide my hands through his hair for a few minutes before piping up from under him. "Baby, I got to pee and clean myself off."

"Okay," Jason mumbles, rolling off of me. I lay on the bed for a minute admiring him. His chest sharply jumps up and down. His arm that's laid over his eyes twitches as he breathes in and out. There's a deep gash on his thigh, probably from a mission earlier this week. "Do you want to take a shower?"

"No, I'll shower in the morning," I say back, sitting up and scooting out of the bed.

"There's a washcloth under the sink," Jason says, rolling over on his side.

I look at him for a few more seconds before turning around and walking towards the bathroom. The heavy door doesn't make a peep as I open it up. The bathroom light is still on when I walk in. The walls are a soft cream color counter-acting all the bright white marble around the room. I swing open the sink cabinet door and just as Jay said, there sits a bright red washcloth. I take it out and soak it in warm water before wiping off Jason's mess from my thighs. I quickly finish up my business in the bathroom before walking back out into the bedroom.

Since I've been gone, Jay's thrown his boxers back on and pulled out a file. "Whatcha reading?" I ask, walking around the room and putting back on my underwear and Jay's t-shirt.

"It's the case we've been working on. Apparently Dick found an 'obvious' clue that I 'should have seen' according to Bruce anyway," Jason says, rolling his eyes and clenching the file tighter.

I look at Jason, thinking of the right thing to say to him. "Baby, if you keep running yourself like this - if you keep letting Bruce run you like this and comparing you to Richard you're going to end up dead."

Jason looks at me, his eyes dark and his face frowning more than usual. "I would never let Bruce take me from you."

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

[dreadfutures]

i made kimchi jjigae with my vintage crock pot and it is. so fucking tasty. several days later it's SO TASTY

[octochan]

Came across a yard sale a couple of blocks away from home - they were cleaning out a huge amount of stuff, mostly tools and hardware. I got this antique fan, Pyrex bowl, miniature crock, jewelers vise, slotted spoon, awl and crowbar for the princely sum of $7! The awl even looks exactly like a prop from one of the Room puzzle games!

I was so excited to disassembe and reassemble, clean the dust, rust and grime off these things I forgot to take 'before' photos.

There were also four boxes of vintage blue tiles with flowers that they were just going to throw away that I almost took with me but I had to talk myself out of it.

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 16: Dinner and a Show

What had possessed him to invite Kal’istae over? His apartment was thrashed. He’d been gone all week. There was a light layer of dust over everything, he had a ton of laundry to do, his bathroom had to be scrubbed, his floor swept, and everything aired out. Plus he had to replace half his groceries and buy what he needed for dinner tonight. But every time he even considered calling and postponing, his stomach immediately twisted.

Fine. He could do this.

Thancred dumped his suitcase out on his bed, then gathered everything together, including the sheets he hadn’t changed before leaving on his trip. Hauling the lot into the laundry room, he sorted them into the baskets for each lights, darks, and delicates, then began the first load. Leaving that to rumble away, he stepped out and into the kitchen next.

Pulling open his fridge, he wrinkled his nose. While some of it could be salvaged, a good chunk of the dairy and all of the leftovers definitely needed to go. His fault for not cleaning it out before he’d left, but it had been an emergency call, and he’d hardly had time to pack.

He grabbed his trash can and began to toss the spoiled - or almost spoiled - food into it, sending the tupperware sailing across the counter into his sink for cleaning. Once he’d managed to clear out the fridge, he set the bag to the side and started in on his dishes. 

As his dishwasher hummed merrily, he dug up the enchanted broom his friend Y’shtola had made for him and keyed it up to sweep and dust the apartment. He rarely bemoaned his lack of aether control, but this was one of those situations where the ability to do a bit of magic - in the form of a few cleaning spells - would have come in quite handy.

Still, the broom would chase away the dust while he tackled the bathroom.

A few hours later, the laundry was done and folded, the bed covered in freshly washed sheets, the kitchen and bathroom spotless and the living room free of dust. He took a quick shower to sluice the worst of the grime from his body and dressed in a pair of ratty jeans and an old t-shirt. Grabbing his shopping bags, he headed out and down the street to the market.

He took his time selecting his supplies for the evening, as well as a few staples. A carton of eggs, a jug of milk, a crock of butter - these were necessities. A bag of thin pasta for dinner along with some rosemary-infused oil he thought might serve as an excellent base for the cream sauce went in the basket. A bottle of heavy cream, a block of cheese, a salmon filet, and some fat, juicy shrimp fresh from Limsa rounded out the ingredients for the entree.

For greens he selected some thick stalks of asparagus and a bagful of fresh spinach leaves. Either could be added to the pasta itself, or served as a side, and he would make that determination later.

Dinner planned, he paid for those purchases and a few other essentials, then wandered down the street to his favorite liquor store. Though not a particularly heavy drinker, he had an appreciation for fine alcohol, and knew that the gentlemen who ran this particular store often had a few fine vintages squirreled away.

“Ah, Mr. Waters,” he was greeted as he entered. “Doing some shopping?”

Thancred smiled, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Picking up a few things I needed, and some supplies for dinner tonight. I… ah. I have a date.” Unaccountably, he blushed, and felt the tips of his ears redden further as the man stared at him for a full minute. “I was looking for nice wine to go with salmon and seafood pasta.”

The merchant blinked a few more times. “... a date?” he asked faintly, and watched as the hyur turned even redder. “Of course. Ah - you’ll want a fine white to pair with your salmon - especially as I assume you are doing a light cream sauce?” When Thancred nodded, he smiled. “A chardonnay, I think - we have a fine one from Ishgard, from House Borel, in fact. Oak-aged and medium bodied - not strong enough to overpower the cream sauce, but not too light to get overwhelmed by the herbs you’ll add.”

Thancred started to run some calculations in his head - then deliberately booted them aside. Cost didn’t matter. “Sounds delightful. I’ll take it.”

“Ah - do you not want to know the cost?” the man asked delicately.

Pale gold eyes were steady as Thancred shrugged. “If you think it will suit, then I’ll take it. I’m not worried about the cost - not for this.”

The miqo’te stared at him a moment longer, then grinned broadly. “Wait right here.” Before Thancred could say anything, the man disappeared back into the racks. Left to his own devices, the hyur prowled through the shelves, studying the bottles of liquor without seeing them. Most of his focus was solely on trying to keep himself from worrying overmuch about his plans for the night.

Was he moving too fast? Was he not moving fast enough? He was trying so hard not to pressure her into bed, but his body ached for her every time he thought of her. His fascination with the Au Ra drove him just a little mad; he’d never wanted - no, needed - a woman so badly. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d faced his fair share of rejection. Not every woman favored hyurs, or men, and he’d learned to take such things with a grin and a shrug.

But with Kal’istae, he simply hadn’t been able to accept a no. And so he’d persisted. And persisted. And persisted.

And he’d persevered.

But it hadn’t been enough. He wondered if it would ever be enough. Even once he’d had her, he had a feeling he would never have enough of her. 

What the hells was he doing? He was too old for this shit. He had a demanding career, a family that needed him. He didn’t have time to go romancing a woman. To go falling in-

“Mr. Waters?”

With a gasp, Thancred whirled, breaking off his thoughts before he could think something inconceivable. “Sorry, L’hyrn, I was… distracted.”

The miqo’te smiled and offered out the bottle of wine, setting it against his arm so that the hyur could read the label. “Someday,” he said conversationally, “I would like it if you would bring this date of yours by. I would love to meet the woman who could distract the Thancred Waters so badly.”

Thancred ignored the bottle, frowning at the merchant. “What do you mean by that?” he asked testily.

Too comfortable with the hyur to take offense, L’hyrn smiled. “Isn’t it obvious, my friend?” he asked. “Dates. Expensive wines. Home cooked meals,” he added, glancing down at the shopping bag hanging from the man’s shoulder, “and mooning in the wine aisle? Sir, you have it bad.”

Thancred stared at the miqo’te. “How much is the wine?” he asked, trying his best to stave off any more speculation on his relationship with Kal’istae. When the merchant grinned and named the price, he felt himself go pale. “Ah - hells,” he exhaled. “What do I need money for anyway? Alright. Let’s go pay.”

L’hyrn’s eyes widened, but he turned and hurried back to the register as if afraid Thancred might change his mind. “You won’t regret it,” he promised the silver-haired hyur as he accepted the man’s card and ran it through the machine. 

Thancred managed not to wince as he scrawled his signature on the receipt and watched impatiently while the miqo’te carefully wrapped and boxed the wine. Once he’d slid it home into his shopping bag, he smiled wryly. “Have a good evening, L’hyrn.”

“And may you have the most pleasant of ones, Mr. Waters,” the other man replied with a beaming smile.

As the door shut behind him, Thancred heard the tell-tale sound of a tomephone being dialed. At least, he thought philosophically, he waited for me to leave.

Grill the salmon, boil the pasta, saute the shrimp. Thancred listed out the steps in his head as he set his groceries on the island and skirted around it towards the pantry. Opening it, he began to grab spices off his rack. Some of what he’d use he had bought fresh, or grew in the tiny pot-rack out on his balcony (and here’s hoping Raha had really come over to water them like he’d promised) - but not everything was available fresh, or kept long enough to be worth buying.

The hours he’d spent in the Leveilluers’ kitchen, learning to cook at the knee of their chef, had been well-spent, no matter how Forchenault had mocked him for doing ‘servant’s work’. His tune had changed at any rate when their mother had caught him and sent him to toil at Thancred’s side.

Forchenault may have come out of it with a new appreciation for the labors of the previously invisible servants, but Thancred had come out with a lifelong love of cooking and a skill which had all but guaranteed him the bedmates of his choice when he wielded it. It was amazing how many women found a man who could cook - and cook well - absolutely irresistible.

Not that that was the reason he was cooking for a woman… this time. The invitation had been pure impulse mixed with just a hint of bragging. He wanted to show her that he could make magic too - maybe not the flashy kind, but the mixing of food and ingredients to make a tasty, well-presented meal was it’s own form of alchemy.

He wanted to show her that he brought something more to the table than just a great body and sparkling personality.

Gods, was he preening for her?

He paused for a moment, looking around the spotless apartment. He preferred it to look nice, but he’d dragged out the colorful old throw his mother had woven for him, tossing it over the back of the couch. The glass sparkled in the full-sized windows that overlooked the balcony and the city beyond. The floor gleamed. And beyond the door to his bedroom…

He’d used his favorite sheets, the ones he reserved only for himself, and always changed before having company that might share his bed. The only people who had ever slept on them other than himself had been his siblings. And he had made his bed up in them, fully anticipating trying to talk her into them by the end of the evening.

What the hells was he thinking?

He started towards the bedroom, intending to strip down the bed and fix it up right, when there was a knock at the door. A glance at the clock had him cursing; it was nearly seven, and he hadn’t even started making dinner yet. He hesitated, torn between doing something - anything - to make the place less spotless, and answering the door.

A second knock made him wheel on his heels and stride to the door. Politeness was too ingrained; he didn’t dare leave a visitor, especially one he had invited, waiting on the doorstep. Then he opened the door, and all of his reservations fell away, and he wondered why he’d had them in the first place.

She stood there on his welcome mat, small and slim and just a bit nervous, gazing up at him with those wide, lavender-edged eyes. Her hands were held before her, clutching a paper bag he recognized as having come from a local bakery - one of his favorites, in fact. She was clad in casual dress, wearing a pair of dove-gray leggings and a soft, wide-necked sweater that clung to her arms, puddling down to frame her slim throat and shoulders and setting her silvery freckles to glittering.

In silence, he stretched out a hand. She stared at it, then back to him, and carefully laid her hand in his. He drew her in and gently booted the door closed. Then he took the bakery bag from her and set it carelessly off to the side, leaving it on the floor. She blinked at him, frowned at it, and opened her mouth - then shut it again when he abruptly scooped her up.

She gasped as he lifted her, grunted when her spine smacked lightly against the door. She flung her arms around his neck, hitching her legs up and around his waist as he pinned her with his body, his arms banding like iron around her hips. “Hold on to me,” he demanded, and she could do nothing else when his mouth covered hers in a hot, hungry kiss.

There was only the briefest hesitation before she abandoned herself to the embrace, giving back as good as she was getting. And by the gods, was she getting something good. The man had the hands and mouth of a god - by the time he eased back and let her slide bonelessly to the floor, clinging to him while she got her legs under control, she was hot and tight and shamelessly hungry for something very different than the seafood she could smell. Gripping his arm as she found her feet, she gazed blindly up into his face. “Thancred?”

“You absolutely destroy my self-control,” he said, just a bit tightly. “I’ve never met anyone before who could reduce me to such a primal state before just by existing.” Closing his eyes, he drew her close and sucked in a lungful of air, holding it for several long moments before exhaling slowly. “I’m not sorry for wanting you - but I’m sorry for being so… forward.”

Kal’istae turned her face into his breast, shifting her grip so that she could slide her arms about his waist. She felt him hesitate, then his arms slid around her shoulders and he slumped until he could press his cheek against the top of her head. “I want no apology,” she replied, her words muffled against his chest. “The storm you stir in me…” She trailed off, sucking in a breath.

He stroked his hand along her hair. “I won’t lie and say I didn’t ask you here hoping to seduce you,” he murmured against her hair. “I want you so badly, the ache is physical. But I won’t force you.”

She pulled back and he straightened as she lifted her gaze to his, her eyes clear and direct. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

He lowered his head to brush his lips over hers, then released her, stooping and scooping up the abandoned bakery bag before turning and leading her towards the kitchen. “I ran a little behind,” he stated as she followed on legs still a bit unsteady, “and haven’t started cooking yet. All good - I assure you,” and he grinned at her over his shoulder, “it’s a show worth watching. But first,” and he deposited the bag on his island while staring down at his ratty jeans and t-shirt with distaste, “I’m going to go change.”

“You look fine,” she began, then cut off when he sent her a patient look. “Okay, yes, you’re a mess, but that doesn’t make you any less hot.”

He snorted at her. “I’m going to go change,” he repeated. “Have a seat. Would you like some water? Soda?”

She waved him off. “I can get it. Go get pretty. Er. Prettier.”

He swung around and kissed her. “Doesn’t matter what I do, I’ll never hold a candle to you.” As she scoffed at him, he laughed and strode off into his bedroom, shutting the door behind himself.

Once he was out of sight, Kal’istae let out a breath and pressed her hand to her stomach. “Oh gods, oh gods, oh sweet gods,” she whispered. “That man is potent!” Skirting the edge of the island, she opened up his refrigerator and eyed the contents, mildly overwhelmed by the presence of so much fresh food. Hadn’t he ever heard of pre-packaged dinners?

Grabbing a soda, she booted the door closed and retreated to the other side of the island, sliding onto a stool just as he emerged again. Popping the top on the can, she turned to study him, sipping to hide her expression.

He was worthy of a long look and more. He’d exchanged his ratty jeans for a fitted pair in a dull black, his battered t-shirt for button-down in a rich indigo that was left unbuttoned to his breastbone. He’d brushed his silvery hair so that it framed his face and added a single hoop in dark gunmetal to one ear. His golden eyes were warm as he ghosted up to her, taking her soda and setting it aside before stealing a long kiss. “Mmm. Sweet.”

“You didn’t have any diet,” she began, then clamped her lips shut when he laughed at her. “You’re so smooth it’s a wonder you can keep your feet when you walk.”

He kissed her again, then set her drink on the counter and skirted around it, snagging an apron from the hook on the wall as he passed. “I’ve been accused of that before, but I assure you, you make me feel like a kid again, all angles and knobby knees and feet that don’t quite know where to go.”

Leaning against the island, she watched as he began to prepare the fish, laying it out on the cutting board and seasoning it by eye. “If this is you at your worst, it’s a wonder any woman’s ever been able to turn you down.”

“I don’t know,” he remarked as he rubbed a mixture of butter, lemon juice, and spices into the salmon, “you managed pretty well for a whole year.”

Admiring the way his hands slicked over the pale pink fish, she almost missed his comment. “Huh? Oh. By the skin of my teeth,” she admitted. “And deeply loathing myself the entire time for being such a coward.”

He tested the oil in the pan, then laid the salmon in it, setting it to sizzling lightly. “A coward? No, I won’t buy that. Prudent. Cautious. I have quite the reputation, even here. Add to it what I racked up back home, and I don’t blame you for thinking I was only looking for a good time.”

She rubbed at a swirl in the marble countertop. “Weren’t you?” she asked. “Aren’t you?”

With the salmon cooking, he turned to the washed and dried shrimp, dumping them from the colander into a bowl, then adding spices to mix them up. “Maybe at first,” he admitted. “Let’s face it, you’re fucking hot, Kali. Absolutely gorgeous. You have to know that - you’re not celibate.”

Her lips curved. “No. I’m not celibate. I’ve had my share of lovers,” she conceded, “friends with benefits. I like sex, Thancred. I like uncomplicated, no-strings-attached sex. I like men, and they seem to rather like me.”

Once the shrimp were seasoned, he covered the bowl and set it in the fridge, then started on the pasta. “So if you like no-strings sex, why turn me down?”

She was silent for a long moment, tracing the rim of her can with her fingertip. “Because I wasn’t certain I could keep it no-strings - not on my end, anyway. And I was afraid if I slept with you, I’d get attached, and you’d walk away. And that would damage my relationship with Ryne, even if neither of us wanted it to.”

Remaining quiet, Thancred focused on setting the water to boil, then checked and flipped the salmon. “Why,” he finally asked quietly, “would you think any of that?”

She gazed at his back, trying not to notice the way the shirt shifted over his back as his muscles flexed beneath the cloth. “Because I already half had a crush on you before I met you,” she admitted. When he remained silent, she exhaled loudly. “Minfilia used to talk about you. The man she spoke of sounded nothing like the man I remembered hearing of in Sharlayan. It made me curious. Then I met Ryne, and she would talk you up. Even if I chalked it all up to her affection for her father, I couldn’t help but fall just a little for the man she would describe to me so… enthusiastically.”

He finally turned to see her staring hard at the counter, her cheeks darkened to violet beneath the heat of her blush. “It was terribly unprofessional,” she admitted, “but… I guess it was just a continuation of my fascination from my youth.”

“Three weeks.”

Confused, she looked up into his patient gold eyes. “Huh?”

He nodded. “Three weeks,” he repeated. “That’s how long it took me to slide from just looking for sex to looking for something more. By the time I’d been pestering you for two months, I’d begun turning down offers and stopped seeking out partners of my own. I knew I was sunk,” he continued as she stared at him, open mouthed, “when a friend of mine from Radz-at-Han who visits twice a year for work came to town and I declined to meet up with her, although we’d been doing so for the past seven years.”

Kal’istae was reduced to just staring at him, speechless, and he grinned at her. “So yeah, it’s a fair concern - but I don’t think you have to worry about me walking away any time soon, Kali.” He checked the food, then crossed the kitchen to the island, wiping his hands off on a towel. Reaching out, he caught one of her hands and lifted it to his lips. “I’m afraid we’ve both moved beyond our comfort zone.”

Even as she scrambled to think of what to say, he turned back to continue cooking. Finally, she huffed out a breath. “Well, hells, Thancred,” she murmured as she planted her elbow on the counter and rested her chin in her palm, gazing at him. “If I must explore uncharted territory, at least I lucked out on my companion for the journey.”

His laughter was soft and affectionate. “I think I got the better end of the deal,” he replied easily as he slid the salmon out of the pan onto a pair of waiting plates. He put the pan back on the stove and added a little butter, searing it quickly while he got the chilled shrimp from the fridge. They sizzled as they hit the melted butter and the scents of garlic and lemon filled the air. “I won’t lie, Kali, I had some bad moments when I realized that every time you turned me down, it genuinely hurt. Not my ego - though that took more than a few pinpricks from your refusals, but my head. My self-esteem. I found myself wondering what was wrong with me, that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.”

Her heart twisted. “Thancred, why didn’t you say something?”

His back was to her, but she could hear the bittersweet smile in his voice. “I didn’t want a pity date. I wanted the real deal.”

Slipping from her stool, she padded into the kitchen and stole up behind him, wrapping her arms about his waist. Immediately he switched to stirring the shrimp with one hand while the other closed over her wrist, holding her tight. “So did I,” she admitted. “I wanted it so badly I would get nauseous every time I turned you down, certain that I was fucking everything up. I did everything I could to avoid scheduling any meetings on Thursdays, just so I’d be available if you came by. When you came by.”

“Gods, what a pair we are.” He gave the shrimp one last shake, then set it off to the side and turned off the burner. Before Kal’istae could slip away, he spun on her and caught her about the waist, hoisting her up until he could sit her upon the island behind her. When he moved in, she welcomed him, spreading her thighs and hooking her calves around his as she slid her arms around his neck. “Mistress Miurani.”

“Archon Waters,” she murmured, and her smile curved wide enough to flash that single dimple as her fingers tangled in his hair. He planted one hand on the counter, the other tucked against her back, holding he steady as he leaned in. Ever so briefly he paused, his breath warm and sweet against her lips as he met her gaze, citrine eyes and lavender-edged less than an ilm apart.

Startled by the unexpected pause, Kal’istae’s lips parted in question - but he leaned forward then and covered her mouth with his own.

She didn’t even consider resisting. With a soft sound of joy, she abandoned herself to his embrace, her body going languidly lax in his arms as he gathered her against him, his arms banding about her like iron. His tongue flicked out, brushing over her lips, then dipping between them as they parted willingly to his asking. 

She made a soft noise, a sound caught between longing and pleasure, and it took every onze of self-control that he had to keep himself from taking that which she offered so willingly. Instead, he contented himself with feasting at her mouth, tongues tangling, teeth scraping, lips all but bruising as languid kisses turned hungry in a heartbeat, fueled by a desire that neither of them was much able to keep in check.

With a gasp, he tore himself free, staggering backwards and lifting the back of his hand to his mouth. She reached up and touched her own lips, her eyes smiling with pleasure as she watched him. “Gods, Kal’istae, you undo me,” he murmured. “Never before have I met anyone who stripped away all of my ego, my self-assurance, my self-esteem, and sent me back to those striping days in Sharlayan, when I was still fighting to prove I belonged. To prove I was worthy. I don’t know how to prove to you I’m worthy of you.”

She gazed at him. “And here I thought it was the other way around,” she murmured, and he stared at her. “I’ve been certain I’m the one not worthy of you - the girl with no past, with an uncertain future. The orphan with no family, no friends. Nothing,” she sighed, lifting a hand, sapphire aether curling about her fingers, “but magic and a mystery that will never be solved.”

Reaching out, Thancred twined his fingers with hers, feeling the heat of her magic drift across his skin. “I like a good mystery,” he said lightly. “And I really like you. Kali, the truth is - I’m not looking for a romance with you.” When she stiffened and tugged on her hand, he tightened his grip. “I’m looking for a relationship.”

“Oh my gods.”

He had to smile at her reaction. “Gods, I feel like I’m back in high school. Kali, I really like you. A lot. I’ve never felt the same way about anyone the way I do about you. And I want to explore the potential I feel between us. I want to do so,” he added, stepping up to her and cupping her cheek, “as a couple. Exclusively.”

“I- I’ve never…” she stammered, lapsing into silence before she could finish her words. “I’ve never,” she finally repeated. “And neither have you.”

“And neither have I,” he agreed. “But I want to. Please, Kali.”

She met those earnest golden eyes. “Ah hells,” she murmured, and had to smile when he grinned like a little boy. “I want to, too. Alright then, Thancred. Exclusive.”

He dropped her hand, then swept her off the counter, spinning her in a circle while she laughed. “I’ve got a girlfriend,” he chanted in a sing-song voice, and she rolled her eyes. “Hey, I don’t care if I’m twelve, twenty-two, or thirty-two, this is a first for me. Let me live it up a little.”

She flung her arms around his neck and dragged him in for a short, hard kiss. “Fair’s fair,” she chuckled. “Now I get to gush about my boyfriend to my whole two friends.” Her smile curled at the edges, giving her face a mischievous cast. “One of whom is my boyfriend’s little sister.”

“Ugh. Just leave some things a mystery, if you please,” Thancred replied drolly. “Jess has no filter and happily parrots everything she hears to the rest of the family. They’re all already desperate to meet you as is.”

She winced. “Right. Family. About that…”

His smile gave no quarter. “You’ve already met Min and Ryne and Jess. Eventually I’ll introduce you to Arenvald and Raha. And I already know the Miuranis, so I have a leg-up there - but I still hope someday you’ll have the opportunity to introduce me as your… boyfriend.”

She couldn’t help but smirk over his slight hesitation. “Too high school for you?” she teased lightly.

“A little, but it suits,” he replied. “I like it better than any of the alternatives.” Carefully he set her down. “Alright. Pasta’s done,” he added, glancing over and noticing that it looked to be exactly the right softness. “Let me drain it and make up the butter sauce, then we’ll eat. Then, I thought, maybe we could sit on the couch and neck while we pretend to watch a movie?”

Kal’istae leaned back against the island, watching him while she struggled to control the rapid flutter of her overfull heart. “Why, Mr. Waters, you read my mind.”

“That’s because, Miss Miurani, our minds are often one and the same.”

The salmon had been flaky and moist, the shrimp tender and garlicky, and the pasta just a hint al dente - just the way she liked it. Added to it the unexpected addition of garlic bread - store-bought, but still delicious and the rich wine that even Thancred had to admit had been worth every gil he’d spent, and it was the best dinner that Kal’istae remembered ever having eaten. “You did not learn to cook like this in Sharlayan.”

“I did,” Thancred countered as they settled on the couch. He sank down on the cushions and held out his arms, grinning cheerfully as she slid into his embrace and curled against his side. “Gods, aren’t you the sweetest armful.” He indulged himself in a kiss before reaching for the remote. “Although I admit I didn’t learn the recipes themselves in Sharlayan - I’ve been collecting those since I got to the City - I learned the basics and more of how to cook from the Leveilleurs’ chef. I used to pester her day in and day out to teach me how to make food. I liked the kitchen,” he mused as he brought up one of the many services that streamed movies across the aethernet. “It was warm and the cooks were kind to the poor hyuran lad. It was a good place to hide from Forchenault when he was being particularly pugnacious about my existence.”

The wine had settled into her brain, and everything was enveloped in a soft golden haze, a pleasant buzz ringing gently in her ears. She was, she had to admit, more than a little tipsy - they’d indulged a little more in the wine than they should have, but neither she nor Thancred had been inclined to waste a drop. As a result, she was very, very happy to be exactly right where she was. “Well, Forchenault’s kind of a dick.”

“Kali!”

She sniffed. “He is,” she insisted. “Ameliance was one of the healers who treated me when I first got to Sharlayan, and Forchenault was just so cold and… a dick.”

Thancred struggled to find a counterargument to defend his brother - and realized he couldn’t. “Okay. Forchenault’s a dick. But he’s had my back more than once, and his kids are great, so he’s got that going for him.”

Kal’istae giggled, and while Thancred blinked muzzily at her in surprise, she stole the remote and began to surf. “I like the twins,” she admitted. “Alphinaud used to carry my bag for me home from high school, and Alisaie was forever pestering me to practice with her for the dance team.”

“He did, did he? Competing with my own nephew. How lowering.” Thancred rested his cheek atop her head and gazed at the TV, barely paying any mind to the shows as they flashed past. “They’re good kids. I miss them. Shame they’re so wrapped up in working on their Archons’ theses.”

Kal’istae didn’t really care about the twins. What she cared about was how damn good he smelled, felt, and, as she pressed her mouth to his throat, tasted. He sucked in a breath, then abruptly rolled her so that she was pressed against the couch cushions. “My turn,” he said thickly, and attacked her throat as his hands streaked up under her sweater to find her, then abruptly he gripped it and shoved upwards, tearing it from her body.

Her skin was on fire, every muscle simultaneously lax and taut as she arched upwards beneath his greedy, impatient hands and his hot, hungry mouth. Her bra soon joined her sweater, flung to only the gods knew where before he lowered himself to her and caught her mouth for an eager kiss. His hands slid over skin and scale, grasping possessively as he reached up to cup her breasts, rolling her nipples lightly between thumb and forefinger.

She gasped and arched into his hands, filling his palms with her breasts while she tugged at the buttons of his shirt, eager to delve beneath the soft fabric. Slowly the sensation of her hands against his skin percolated through his muzzy brain and he abruptly reared back, grabbing at her hands before she could slip them inside his half-open shirt. “Wait,” he said, even as she arched her hips and threw her legs over his, drawing him down until he could feel the heat of her even between the layers of their pants. “Wait!” he said again.

Her eyes opened, glassy and dazed. “But why?” she asked plaintively. “I’m ready.”

“I’m not,” he grunted as she writhed beneath him, and she stilled, blinking up at him in confusion. He wasn’t doing much better; he had no idea why he was resisting her when he’d been trying to get her into this position for a year.

Then she shifted again, tugging at his shirt, and he remembered what lay beneath the soft silken fabric. “Wait,” he said softly, and she stilled, frowning unhappily up at him. “We’re drunk, or the next best thing.”

Those lavender-edged eyes blinked slowly. “If you think this is the wine talking,” she said throatily, “think again.”

He eased her hands from his chest, holding her wrists firmly as he gazed down at her. “I think it is more than just the wine, but I think the wine plays a part. Lovely Kali, sweet Kali, when we finally come together, I want there to be no doubts, no regrets, no remorse.”

She sighed beneath him. “How in the hells are you so damn perfect and still single?”

He gave a choked laugh. “I am far from perfect, and I thought we established earlier that I am also far from single.”

Lips curving in a fond smile, she tugged on her wrists until he dropped down, covering her gently. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him long and slow, chastely keeping her hands to herself. “Very well, dearest Thancred,” she murmured, “as you abided by my wishes, so shall I abide by yours. When you are ready, and no sooner.”

Lowering his head to rest his forehead against hers, Thancred gave a faint smile. “I appreciate it, and I promise that unlike some people in this room, it will not take me a year to be ready.”

“Ha ha,” she murmured. “I suppose I should consider heading home.”

Thancred didn’t move. “Why?”

She blinked at him. “I mean, we could certainly make out more, but it’s growing late and I’d rather not get caught here…”

“I’d rather you stayed,” he interrupted her, and she stared at him. He pushed himself up so that he was kneeling on the couch, and she struggled up from the cushions, resting on her hands as she studied his face. “You’re drunk - or at least very tipsy - and I’d rather not send you home in that condition. And… I’d rather you stayed.”

She studied his face. “At least you have a comfy couch…”

“Don’t be silly,” he chided. “You’ll take the bed. I’ll stay out here. It’s the least I can do after turning you down.”

Shoving herself up into a sitting position, Kal’istae instead leaned forward, hands dangling between her knees as she caught her breath from the sudden rush of dizziness. “Thancred, I don’t want to put you out.” She reached up, shoving hair out of her face. “I will absolutely admit to being more than a bit tipsy, and I won’t argue about staying, since it’s a little later than I like walking home when I can’t be sure of my aetherical control, but I don’t want to throw you out of your bed.”

“To be fair, normally I’d be trying to share it with you, but I can’t be entirely certain of my own self-control,” Thancred admitted, “and if something were to happen and you woke up and regretted, I have every reason to believe it would break my heart. But I’ll be damned if I let a guest - my girl - sleep on the couch. My mother would kill me.”

Reaching out, Kal’istae stroked his cheek and he smiled, pressing into her hand. “When I think of how long I put this off, I could hate myself.”

Catching her hand, he drew it around until he could press a kiss to her wrist. “Don’t hate yourself, my dear. I was as much at fault. If I’d only made myself clear - if I’d only realized myself what it was I truly wanted with you, we could have avoided much of this. I don’t blame you for being so skittish.”

She tugged lightly, and he leaned in so that she could kiss him, softly and sweetly. “I won’t turn back now,” she murmured. 

“I’d just keep chasing you,” Thancred replied, nipping at her lower lip. “I’ll never let you go, Kali. Not unless it’s what you truly wanted.”

Charmed, knowing that the buzzing in her head was only partially the wine, Kal’istae draped her arms around his neck and laid back, drawing him with her. He stretched out, laying the long length of him along her body as he held her close. As a psychologist, he could cite all of the literature and research that told him that what he was feeling - the dizziness, the butterflies, the crawl of lighting up his spine and the fire along his nerves - it was all a chemical reaction, brought on by the play of neurotransmitters in his brain.

He didn’t fucking care. In his thirty-odd years upon this star, he had never once felt this low, languorous warmth that filled his breast from throat to belly. He’d never known anyone - man, woman, or besides - to ignite in him such a tender regard. Lust, that he knew intimately. And he knew that what he was feeling was not lust.

And he knew he wasn’t ready to try and put a name to it.

So he simply reveled in it, basked in it, allowed it to drive all worries and concerns from his mind, and indulged himself in the one sport he’d never particularly appreciated until now.

Cuddling.

Sometime around midnight, Thancred roused himself from somnolence. Beneath him, Kal’istae lay, lax muscled but still awake - barely. “Mmm. I could stay like this all night.”

“So do so,” came her sleepy reply, and her arms tightened about him as she nuzzled beneath his chin. “There’s no reason not to.”

He chuckled and tightened his hold, then reluctantly crawled off of her. “Come on, sleeping beauty. It’s time for bed. Comfy as this is, this couch is definitely not built to sleep two.”

She whined at him and he sighed, then stooped down and scooped her up into his arms. She gave a soft shriek of surprise and threw her arms around his neck, staring at him with wide eyes as he straightened and took a moment to secure his balance. “Thancred!”

“I promised you my bed, and I shall deliver.” Carefully, he skirted around the throw crumpled on the floor and carried her into his bedroom. When he went to lay her down in the bed, however, he overbalanced and ended up half on the mattress with her. “Whoops! Entirely unintentional.” It did not, however, stop him from stealing a kiss before he disentangled himself and pushed himself up.

“You don’t have to go,” Kal’istae reminded him as she pushed herself up, ignoring the fact that she remained completely topless.

His eyes drifted down of their own accord. “I really, really do,” he murmured, regret heavy in his voice. “Here. Hang on a moment.”

She shifted to lay down on the bed, rolling over on her stomach and staring at the wall as she rested her chin upon his pillow. She could smell him - sandalwood and peppermint and hints of chocolate - and the mingled scents made her head spin pleasantly. She was just drifting off when something soft landed on her back, and the scent of him intensified. Rolling over, she caught at the cloth and discovered it to be one of his button-down shirts.

Sitting up, she drew it on around her and fumbled with the buttons. He grinned down at her from where he stood, clad in a clean but ratty t-shirt and a pair of loose drawstring pants. Reaching down, he buttoned the shirt for her. “Gods. You look absolutely… delicious. Adorable. Alluring. I’m going to bed now, before I break my own rules.”

She sat on his bed, gazing up at him from beneath her lashes. “If you insist,” she murmured. “Good night, Thancred.”

He leaned down and kissed her, long and slow and sweet. “Good night, darling,” he murmured, and she smiled, pleased. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She kept her eyes on his until he’d backed his way out of the room and shut the door behind him. Then she wriggled out of her slacks and left them on the floor before crawling back into his bed and pulling the covers up. Wrapped in his scent, wrapped in his shirt, she had only a brief moment to regret not also being wrapped in him before she dropped into a deep, dreamless slumber.

“Kali, honey. Kali, wake up.” Someone was shaking her. Sandalwood and chocolate filled her nose and she inhaled deeply. “Kali, babe. Please. Something’s happened.”

The terse panic in Thancred’s voice dragged her out of her languid slumber and she blinked her eyes open, hissing at the light. “What happened?” she asked thickly.

He stroked her hair then pulled away. Moments later, he pressed her slacks into her hand. “It’s Jess. She messaged me - us. Someone broke into the bar. She lives there, Kali. In the basement. Someone broke in while she was sleeping. I have to go. I’d like you to come with me.”

Sleep fled and she blinked again, suddenly wide awake. “Of course I will,” she stated firmly, wriggling out of the bed and drawing on her slacks. She hesitated over his shirt, then just left it on. She didn’t have time to hunt up her bra and sweater; she’d get them later.

He waited, having swapped his sleep pants for jeans but otherwise he hadn’t made much effort to dress. Once she was ready, he grabbed her hand and she could feel his anxiety and tension in the careful way his fingers gripped hers, as though he were trying not to hurt her. She squeezed firmly and grabbed her shoes as they sped through the living room.

He paused briefly to lock up and gazed at his door for a long moment, clearly collecting himself. Kal’istae waited in silence beside him, her fingers twisted with his while she gently stroked his arm. He shook his head, recalling himself, and glanced down at her with a distracted but grateful smile. “Alright. Let’s go. My sister’s waiting.”

Kal’istae nodded, trotting by his side as they set out into the night, rushing for the nearest Underground that would take them to The Bar and to Jess, who no doubt needed her brother the same way he needed to see her safe and sound.

As soon as possible.

[wellpresseddaisy]

But with the Dawn, a New Day is Born pt 1

I have 0 self control when it comes to a new AU. The title comes from the 1931 song Goodnight Sweetheart. I recommend the Bing Crosby version (and also his version of P.S. I love you from a similar vintage).

I probably wouldn't have written this without some enabling from @sneverussape so thank you, friend. Now we all get Harry being Very Confused by a Tom Riddle who mostly isn't a homicidal dick and a Ron who is going to do his level best to make Dumbledore regret taking up teaching. Hermione is going to enjoy the hell out of the library and not having to only research things to save people's lives.

Harry startled as Ron and Hermione melted out of the trees to stand on either side of him. They weren’t shades of themselves, they were solid…and he’d dropped the stone already, anyway. They were real and breathing and they were with him.

“What are you doing?” His voice shook.

“Dumbledore may be convinced that you’re the one he needs to kill, but we aren’t letting you do it alone.” Ron set his jaw in a way Harry knew. Argument was pointless.

“We’ve done everything together.” Hermione continued, her own voice shaking. “And we aren’t…well, three is a magical number too, isn’t it?”

“But you have families.” Harry insisted. Hermione, in his other side, mumbled something he only caught snatches of.

Steadfast in this fateful hour

I place my magic with all its power,

And the sun with its brightness,

And the snow with its whiteness,

And fire with all the strength it hath,

“Think my mum knows.” Ron tried to smile, but it twisted. “She sent her love, you know, for all of us. Said she’d make them understand.”

“Your mum?” Harry couldn’t finish.

And lightning with its rapid wrath,

And the winds with their swiftness along their path,

And Black Lake with its deepness,

“Yeah. She doesn’t want to…after her brothers…I reckon she knows us all pretty well at this point. Anyway, she loves us.”

And the hills with their steepness,

And the moors with their starkness:

      All these I place,

      With my friends help and grace

Between this world and the bringer of darkness.

They’d reached the clearing.

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

After…after Voldemort accepted their triple sacrifice, after the green glow enveloped them, they tumbled together on the floor of Kings Cross, only it was much neater than Harry ever remembered it. So terribly white, really, from the lights to the tiles.

“I didn’t think there’d be an after.” Ron croaked.

“Neither did I.” Hermione’s voice quavered. “I hoped…”

Harry coughed, spat up something foul, and rolled to his feet. “What was that you were saying, Hermione?”

His voice sounded as raspy as his throat felt. Whatever he’d hacked up and spat on the floor pulsed there, thick and black and wet. Instinctively, he herded the other two away from it.

“A version of St. Patrick’s Rune.” Hermione admitted, flushing a bit. “I found it in the library at Grimmauld, tucked away in something ancient. Someone marked it as ‘for absolute life or death emergencies’ so I memorized it. I didn’t know if it would work for me. I’m not sure if it was meant to do…this.” She gestured at their surroundings.

He couldn’t say anything. There weren’t words enough in the world to say anything to Hermione and Ron, who loved him enough to walk with him into death. He launched himself at Ron with all the coordination of a drunk Niffler. Ron caught him, pulled him close, and Hermione crowded in from his other side. They stood for a moment, just breathing, just holding on.

“Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.” Harry tried to tamp down on the ridiculous urge to cry as he mumbled into Ron’s chest .

(Even in the after…after he couldn’t be as tall as he wanted, which was a crock in Harry’s opinion.)

“As if we would do anything else.” Hermione huffed. “We’ve walked with you every step of the way and we aren’t abandoning you now.”

‘You’d probably muck up your…after by feeling guilty without us.” Ron pointed out, patting his back. “D’you think we’re waiting for a train?”

“The three of you,” a voice that reminded him of an annoyed Dumbledore came from behind them. “Are not supposed to be anywhere together.”

They turned as one, Ron trying to shove Harry and Hermione behind him. Harry decided that actually, Ron could take this one.

“I am meant to be meeting Mr. Potter to discuss his options.” It was Dumbledore, if you’d known him in the 1930s. Harry remembered the pictures.

“Huh, no wonder old Grindy went for him.” Ron mused.

Harry tried to muffle the semi-hysterical giggles that threatened.

Hermione thumped her head against his back. “Do not tell him what you think of his plans. Do not tell him what you think of his plans.” She whispered.

“But, as we seem to have had a change of plans, Mr. Potter’s options are no longer what they once were. You will no doubt be happy to know that Mr. Longbottom ended Nagini right before the three of you created a magical backlash that took out the Death Eater encampment and the Acromantula colony.” He spoke as sternly as Dumbledore ever did.

“Good on Nev.” Ron cheered. “You said something about options?”

Death, Ron discovered, took away pretty much all the terror of Dumbledore being upset with him. What was he going to do, dock points? Could people in the waiting room, if that’s what this was, have high blood pressure? Had anyone ever tried?

“I am no longer allowed to discuss options. That has been decided by…others. While I am not pleased with this disruption in a delicate plan, I am proud of your loyalty to one another and to the world you lived in.”

“Well we weren’t daft enough to let Harry walk off to his death. Figured we had the best chance of joining him and it wouldn’t be the same if we weren’t together.” Ron shrugged. “So, we just hopped on that next big adventure.”

Dumbledore opened his mouth, shut it with a snap, and then turned on his heel and stalked off, muttering something under his breath about the sanctity of life after death being lost on Weasleys.

“I hope he has to spend all his time with Great Grand Aunt Wilhelmina and Great Grand Uncle Bilius. They were in his class at Hogwarts and it would serve him right.” Ron muttered, making both Harry and Hermione snicker.

“I suppose now we wait?” Harry asked. “I wonder if a train will come.”

No train came and no one was quite sure how long they waited after Dumbledore stomped off in a huff. Pocket watches didn’t work, wherever they were. It was sort of pleasant, though, not having anywhere to be. Hermione still had her beaded bag, and after a little while she produced a non-magical deck of cards.

“Anyone for rummy?”

They played fourteen hands of rummy and three of hearts before they were interrupted again, which was just as well because Hermione and Ron were bickering over Hermione counting cards. Harry worked on ‘improving’ his own hand from the deck while they were occupied. They never noticed, not when they really got going.

“Beg pardon?”

They whipped around, staring at the young woman just stepping out of a doorway that didn’t used to exist.

“Are you here to take us with you?” Harry asked unsteadily.

“That…it isn’t an option yet. What you three did…well, you upset any number of those much higher up than me.” The woman chuckled. “In any case, they’ve decided to send you…sideways a bit. Finish your unfinished business.”

“What does that mean?” Hermione asked.

“You’re going to be sent…elsewhere. It’ll be 1941, and…it gets a bit complicated here, I’m afraid.” She sighed. “There’s only so much we can do when we get an, er…special delivery like you three. How to explain this? Well, you’ll keep your current memories because there are limits and we aren’t interested in playing dolls with people. You’ll have an…overlay, I suppose, of your 1941-current memories. I’m afraid before Hogwarts won’t be much fun, but we have to explain the twitchiness since we aren’t in the business of wiping people’s personalities away. You’re going back as firsties. That was a non-negotiable. As I said, you made quite a few people upset.”

“Will we be ourselves?” Hermione seemed to be absorbing everything they were told.

“You and Mr. Potter will be Harry and Hermione Perhalion. Mr. Weasley will be Galahad Weasley.”

“Why don’t I get to keep my name?” Ron looked disgusted at the thought of being Galahad.

“Because we can only change the essential nature of a Weasley so much, we aren’t making any of you have new faces, and the Weasley family isn’t slated to have a Ronald for a few generations yet.” The woman answered sternly. “We do try not to meddle too much, unlike certain teenagers.”

“You said we had unfinished business?” Harry picked up where Hermione left off.

“None of you finished school or did any of the things you might have done. And you, Mr. Potter, are actually going to feel the feelings you bottled up on your last go-round.” She poked him in the chest. “No more hiding behind anger. No stuffing everything into the feelings barn.”

“I…what?” Harry stared.

“Do any of you read the…bugger but that one’s in the future. Never mind that. It was from the New Yorker.”

“Oh, my parents like the long-form journalism.” Hermione said brightly.

“Yes,” the woman replied slowly. “They would.”

“Is my unfinished business now a quest to change my name?” Ron asked acidly, clearly trying to change the subject.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The woman snapped.

“My name is now Galahad. I can’t help it.”

The woman raised her hand and snapped and all Harry knew was darkness.

[raisareigns]

TIMING: Shortly before Christmas SETTING: Out and about by The Party Thrifter. SUMMARY: Xóchitl (@vanishingreyes ) and Raisa are spending a little time together shopping for the holidays (and themselves). WARNINGS: None

Raisa didn’t particularly care about Christmas or any of the winter holidays. She’d never truly celebrated them herself from a belief standpoint. But it was helpful to blend in with humans if you acted like a yearly calendar had a larger impact. Plus, Christmas was fun. Trees, tinsel, presents… With her mother far enough away that they weren’t in contact much, Raisa didn’t really have much need for presents beyond some gifts for friends and coworkers. That didn’t mean Christmas shopping held no appeal.

“Come on!” Raisa called as she pulled Xóchitl across the street in a slight jog. “Presents won’t buy themselves, you know. What are you interested in first? Books? Clothes? Weird little bobbles no one knows what to call?”

“Clothes, I think.” Xóchitl let the other woman pull her along. “Or maybe trinkets? I, admittedly, am at a loss for what to buy some people on my list.” For some, it was all about toeing the line of where she fell as far as friends. Because she’d made it a point to not get friends, not have friendships develop, but against her better attempts, she’d wound up with some people she actually wanted to be around, which made her panic, but she wasn’t going to let that get in the way right now.

“How about yourself?” Xóchitl raised an eyebrow. “Got anything specific on your list, or will you just go with what feels right?”

“Ooo trinkets,” Raisa repeated with a smile. “Always a fun choice.” She glanced up at the stores around them, momentarily considering if Tinkerbells was a good idea. Taking humans into fae owned spaces always carried a risk, although when the store was designed to be shopped by humans every day, it was probably safer. Still, she hated looking at all the stupid little statues. How any fae could keep their head held high while passing off that kind of crock was beyond her.

Her eyes turned to The Party Thrifter. “I know secondhand is considered a bit gouache, but does vintage get a pass? It is a way to make clothes feel a little more personal.” Raisa shrugged. Maybe that was just her perspective because she’d managed to reclaim several pieces she’d given up and regretted over the years. “I have a coworker who exclusively wears clothing older than she is or at least things that look that way. “I figured a little jewelry would make for a safe gift.”

“I thought so,” Xóchitl’s smile nearly met her eyes, “I think it’s more intimate, and who among us doesn’t love having a few trinkets around their house?” She, for one, didn’t love it, though she did still have a few floating around her house. Not many, though, but she liked the idea of getting little things for other people that would make them happy, or make them think of her (mostly the former, though she wasn’t in the slightest bit ashamed to think about the latter).

Xóchitl gave Raisa an enthusiastic nod. “Vintage is totally in. It absolutely gets a pass!” The other woman was easy to talk to – and not just because she was totally easy to look at (though that didn’t hurt at all). “I think that sounds absolutely perfect. You can lead the way. Maybe you and I will find something for ourselves too.” 

“Thoughtful items from someone special,” Raisa agreed. Her house was getting a little cluttered in a few rooms from cast gifts and show specific things. Some of those people had moved on, some still lived in the community, and some were on stage with her still and occasionally commented on how much they reminded her of an actress they used to perform with. Funny, that.

Raisa smiled back at Xóchitl’s enthusiasm before taking the few steps necessary to push open the door. She held it open behind her for the other woman to walk in, and as she did so, she paused to take a deep breath. Perhaps old clothing could be musty, but she found it comforting. This too was something Raisa could appreciate. Every place had vintage clothing, but few places had it like Wicked’s Rest with its high population of fae and other near immortal beings. One never knew when they’d find a collection of 40s dresses some vampire had finally deemed fit to part with. It was always an adventure.

“Looking for anyone in particular or just if the vibe strikes?” Raisa asked as she ran her hand along a rack of furs near the door. Never a bad fashion statement, although she knew a few nature spirits with an ugly habit of making them rather hard to wear when they were genuine.

“My moms instilled that sort of idea in me,” Xóchitl continued, “I just think it’s a nice sort of thing to do, and as much as I love a good gift card, it feels more intimate?” She shrugged off any would-be awkwardness (not that she expected any of that, but it was best to get ahead of things and just not risk any would-bes that she didn’t want).

“Just if the vibe strikes, mostly, though I have a few people I’d like to show my appreciation to.” Xóchitl smiled. “How about yourself? Anyone in particular or just seeing how it goes?” The shop was nice. She hadn’t been in it, she didn’t think, and that was something she’d be changing. It was a beautiful store, and it was clear that a good amount of care had been put into it. “I’ll take any recommendations you have, FYI.”

“No, I completely agree,” Raisa said as she glanced toward the next rack. “A gift card says, ‘I didn’t want to disappoint you.’ A more personal gift says, ‘I specifically thought of you.’ If you don’t know someone well enough to try, the gift card can be all right, but it’s never going to be as thoughtful or as meaningful. It just can’t be.”

Raisa hummed to herself as she shifted aside a few velvet dresses to get at a particular shade of red toward the back. “I feel like there are a few people I should get gifts for at the theatre. Perhaps a few neighbors, although some of them are a bit prickly about gifts.” Fae always were. “I’m not entirely sure where my mother has moved to now, so I won’t worry about a gift unless I get a card or something from her first.” Raisa shrugged, then brightened to focus on recommendations.

“Okay,” Raisa said, narrowing in. “If you’re unsure about someone’s specific style or sizing, I feel like you can never go wrong with a warm scarf or hat this time of year. If you do know sizes, then you get to play a little more.”

“I knew you’d get me.” The two of them had fallen into exceptionally easy conversation which, while not surprising, was still very much welcome. Xóchitl grinned. “I feel like attempting a gift itself is still a nice option, even if you don’t know them too well.” Because she’d enjoyed gifts a great deal despite refusing to let any number of people close up until she’d moved back.

“That’s very nice to get gifts for your co-workers – right? I don’t think I can get gifts for everyone else at the hospital, but I think that I could easily manage a fair few for some of them, at least in my department.” She wasn’t sure who else, other than the obvious cases of Emilio, Jade, and Mateo – though she wasn’t certain if any of their gifts would be purchased here. Still, it never hurt to look. Maybe this town would grant her another good surprise. Xóchitl didn’t count on it, but there was always a possibility. Even just scientifically speaking.

Xóchitl nodded in agreement. “True, very true, scarves are good, and frankly necessary up here, but I like to think I’m pretty good at guessing sizes, so I suppose if I find something that looks right, it can’t hurt to buy it?”

“The hospital?” Raisa shook her head. “I can’t imagine trying to get that many, but the department could be nice. Do you have any work friends in particular? Might be good to focus in if it feels like an overwhelming number.” Even as she’d suggested scarfs, Raisa moved past a display of them. She wasn’t sure she trusted the scarves here not to strangle you when it got too cold outside. But then again, one always had to wonder about that risk, didn’t they?

She paused and picked up a dress whose fabric Raisa couldn’t even name, but it felt like heaven against her fingertips. “I know we’re supposed to be shopping for others, but…” The color would be good for the holidays. Surely Raisa could come up with a time to wear this deep blood-red richness. She considered that comparison to blood. Perhaps that was an issue at a place like this. But oh well. Fashion had sacrifices sometimes.

“I’ve got a few.” Though the term “work friends” was loose – it was helpful to be on good terms with people, and that was that. Xóchitl didn’t see the point of being friends with someone only based on the fact that you worked together or went to school together. But having people like her was important, if only so that she didn’t feel completely at a loss for things. At a loss that she didn’t even want to admit she felt, certainly not aloud, and not even to herself, most of the time. “I’ll get a few. Do you have work friends?”

Except that her focus was drawn away as the other woman commented something else. “I mean, I think you should treat yourself, if that makes you happy. Xóchitl did very much enjoy that – and Raisa seemed like the sort of person who would appreciate the extra flattery. Which was easy to work with. She even enjoyed working with it, and she wasn’t too ashamed to admit that. Not at all.

Raisa shrugged. “I’ve got a few people I work with regularly on stage. Jackie is in almost every production, as is Caroline. She and I have had a long history together at the theatre.” Being the only two immortals regularly on stage would do that, and even if Raisa had been initially inclined to dislike the vampire, their proximity had changed that quickly. “Are silk gloves considered an appropriate gift?” she asked, running her hands over a pair. “I do think she’ll like them.”

Glancing back at Xó, Raisa flashed her a smile. “Telling me I can have what I want? You always know exactly what I want to hear,” she teased. “Come on, I think we definitely have more damage we can do!”

[sodascherrycola]

#siblingsday pt.1

200,334 likes

sarahmae Back at home with my lil’ sis, just in time for #siblingsday

view all 1,503 comments

luxrose I MISSED YOU SO MUCH BITCH!!!!!

gunsfanxxo where was she?

fan220 she was in NY for fashion week and stayed there for a couple months so now she’s back home to visit ig

just_allie Okayyy, but those fucking bandanas are so cute!!!!

luxrose shout out shein bitches

730,452 likes

lizzie.ww What’s an older sister good for if she doesn’t take you drinking and laugh at you when you throw up? #siblingsday

view all 3,349 comments

ch4rlie damn you didn’t even show his spider man underwear... that’s unfortunate

ari.angel the crocks, the tiny ass bathroom, the underwear showing. how many shots did y’all take????!!!???

j0ey02 wayyyy to many 

juliamckinell Elizabeth this isn’t funny, don’t do your baby brother like that

lizzie.ww it’s funny mom

ch4rlie yeah mom, have a sense of humour

juliamckinell I know it’s funny I just thought I’d play a good mom for the cameras, this is fucking hilarious 😭😭😭

j0ey02 MOM!

vinceneil it’s funny joey, even you know that LMFAO

taytay92 did dad just lmfao??? LMFAO WHAT?!?

170,454 likes

laurabongiovi Model off duty kinda looks w/ @romeobongiovi #siblingsday

view all 8,348 comments

defnot.lj Man needs to be on the cover of @vouge in those jeans GODAMN!

hollycarpenter not only do i have 2 babies following in my footsteps now i have a baby in training 🥰

will.jovi I’m never deleting this picture off my phone EVER 😭😭😭

jonbonjovi Send that to me right now, I’m showing this at his wedding

1ndonlyrome0 I’m gonna kill all of you and then steal your phones and delete this shit. Don’t think I won’t do it, cause I will.

800,452 likes

theycallme_quinn happy siblings day to my only sista, literally the cutest person on this planet! i’m glad to have fashion shows in my room still like we did when you were five, but now that you’re older and can fit in my clothes, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP STEALING THEM!!!!!

view all 1,560 comments

evie.444 NEVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!

mary.sixx Not Quinn acting like she doesn’t steal my clothes 🥱

theycallme_quinn ummm it’s vintage designer...of course i’m snatch that shit up, and for FREE alright 😌

mary.sixx DID THIS BITCH JUST CALL ME VINTAGE??????

nikkisixxpixx LOL yes, yes she did.

theycallme_quinn and i’ll do it again 🙄

thena and that’s on PERIODT!!!!!!

5,879,438 likes

j4d3yn.d HAPPY SIBLINGS DAY TO THIS DUMB BITCH!!!! LOVE YA YA CLOWN 😘😘😘

view all 10,453 comments

luna4k stfu whore

sophiadeal oh, no we don’t say things like that...

jacobdeal yeah we do

https.noah shhh we have to look like a good christian household 🤫

jacobdeal oh right! yeah no we don’t say things like that...

van.hetfield Are we just gonna ignore Noah’s username orrrr

[fuzzy-robot]

found an amazing thrift shop and it's driving me to a madness I have not recently felt. I need to go back and buy the vintage 1970's crock pot they were selling for $3 or I'll go insane.

[kent-farm]

—Rival Crock-Pot Stoneware Round Slow Cooker (in Green Ivy and Grape Vine, Vintage) in the Cushing Kitchen, Superman and Lois, "Heritage"

[courtcomposer]

[Moxxie] "Um, Charles, I got you a Pal-entines thing. I figured Blitz and Verosika were going to be, uh," clears his throat. "So I got you something." He has to stand up on the heel of his hooves to offer the box to Forte. He has a bag too. But he simply sets that atop a chair nearby, figuring Forte would open the vintage bottle in his own time. It was the booklet of sheet music Moxxie had thought Charles might like to see. At first it probably wouldn't seem much, being an advanced learner's book but in the middle of the book one of Forte's more difficult pieces were listed. This was a hellion instruction book too. Not human. "Thought you'd like to see that even down here your music matters. I remembered practicing some parts of your piano work growing up, to be honest. And the stuff Verosika says is-- I know you already know it-- bull-crock. But it's good to have reminders sometimes..." ( have something nice for a change @moxxietude )

Cue one musician leafing through the book, spotting his piece and immediately breaking down crying at Mox's words as he hugs the tiny imp close. "Th-thank you..."

[morningsunstudio]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Two Vintage wooden Rolling Pins farmhouse collect decor staging.

[kellstreasures]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Hand Made Salt Glazed Incised Pottery Crocks - Set of 2.