#That and the little lady looks like she needs more meals on her bones

[janetbrown711]

Tonight at Eight

Both Pigsy and Tang have blind dates tonight at eight, and there surely isn't anything suspicious about that at all

Ao3 Link

Pigsy dried off a chili-sauce stained bowl with a well worn washcloth and an eye heavy on the clock. It was barely 3:00 pm, but all Pigsy could think about was how he was closing up shop around 6:30 for a very, very important… date.

Heavens, it felt so embarrassing to admit to himself. Here he was, ill-tempered Pigsy, owner of the well-loved business Pigsy’s Noodles, father of a five-year-old, someone fully convinced his life had ended ten years ago, going on a date.

It felt childish, and it didn’t help that he’d basically dropped the idea of romance and love since Sandy–

No, he wasn’t going to think about that. He had something good to look forward to for once, and he wasn’t going to let the past ruin it… yet. Maybe. Who knows?

Pigsy sighed, adding the bowl to the clean pile and scolding himself for acting like such a teenager. He had work to do.

“You alright, Pigsy?” Tang asked innocently from his place at the bar.

Pigsy went to answer, but instead his grandmother laughed from the booth where she and Xiaotian were sitting.

“Jiejie is planning on closing early today for a ‘special event’.” She grinned at her grandson, who felt like he could just die at this point, but decided scrubbing the grill would be more productive.

“What? Psh, that’s impossible! Everyone knows Pigsy would rather die than close before ten,” Tang teased with a cheeky grin that made the chef roll his eyes.

“Bullying is reserved for family or paying customers, Tang,” Pigsy retorted.

“I’ll pay his tab then, Jiejie. Goodness knows that boy needs some meat on his bones.” His grandmother snorted and Tang turned pink, all while Xiaotian giggled.

“So– um–” Tang cleared his throat to ease off the embarrassment, “What’s this ‘special event’?”

His grandmother scoffed again and joined Tang by the bar, which Xiaotian was quick to follow with his crayons and coloring book in tow. “Good luck getting an answer out of him. He won’t even tell me.”

Pigsy rolled his eyes. “Can’t a man have privacy anymore?”

“Ahhhh, but if you don’t tell me, what will I talk about with the ladies at mahjong?” His grandmother shook her head, which made Xiaotian giggle more.

“Oh, does that mean it's something embarrassing?” Tang fully hopped onto the teasing bandwagon.

“No, it just means it’s personal, is all,” Pigsy huffed, eyeing a customer as they walked in, and made his way to the register.

Tang laughed before his eyes went to his book. “Well, if it helps, I’m going to do something totally stupid and embarrassing tonight too.”

At that, Pigsy’s grandmother’s eyes lit up, and she took Tang’s hands into hers. “Like what? Dancing? One of those American rodeos? What?”

“Ah, well–”

“Sir? I’m ready to order,” said the woman across the cashier, and Pigsy shook his head to focus.

“Right, right– what can I get for you?” he forced a customer-friendly smile.

The woman ordered some beef chow fun, and by the time Pigsy started cooking again, Tang was on the brink of a confession.

“Come on, after all the meals I’ve bought for you? To support that big brain of yours? It’s bad enough little Jiejie is acting like his father right now.” She shot a dramatic glare at the chef, before turning back to Tang. “Must you add to my pile of old-womanly misery?”

“Alright, alright, fine. I’m… Heavens, this really is stupid, Miss Xiahui.” Tang covered his face with his hands before taking a breath. “I’m… going on a blind date with someone I’ve never met, and I don’t know what they look like, or what their name is, or literally anything else. I’m going to get murdered, aren’t I?” Tang blurted out, making the chef’s grandmother laugh.

“I’m very excited for you, dear! You know, I’ve been trying to get Jiejie to sign up for one of those ever since he dumped Wujing, but does he take my advice? No!” She gave an exasperated sigh.

“Not true. I opened up this place because of you,” Pigsy retorted from where he stood by the stove.

“Oh, sure, but when it comes to clothes or photos or vacations or even a park I think Xiaotian would like it’s all ‘oh that’s too far,’ or, ‘I’m dressed fine’ or even, ‘this makes me look ancient’,” she snipped right back.

“I know you never left the forties, Lǎolao, but the rest of the world has.” Pigsy rolled his eyes.

His grandmother sighed again. “You see what I put up with Tang? No respect! And I actually deserve it, unlike some people.”

“R-right! Well– at least no matter what, we know that my night’s plans are definitely more embarrassing than Pigsy’s, so…” Tang fiddled with his sleeves like he always did when he was nervous.

“A night of romance is nothing to be embarrassed about. Why, my late husband used to take me out dancing at this old French-style café– I think it was destroyed by the Red Guard though, which is a real shame, you know, it was the romantic spot in the city.” She sighed dreamily.

“That sounds wonderful, Miss Xiahui. My date and I are just meeting at this one restaurant by the park” Tang smiled and got back to his noodles.

“If I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you’re ruining your appetite,” Pigsy’s grandmother chuckled.

“Can’t let him know I’m a complete mess, right?” Tang laughed pathetically.

Pigsy rolled his eyes and teased, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I think it’s fascinating you can eat so much and manage to keep that whole ‘starving Victorian orphan’ look.”

Tang snorted. “Thanks.”

Pigsy winked and laughed before going back to check on how the noodles were doing.

“Oh, don’t mind Jiejie, he’s just jealous because he hasn’t had a date in six years.” The elderly woman patted Tang’s knee.

“For your information, I actually do have a date, and it's tonight, so you can cut out that whole teasing routine,” Pigsy quipped without thinking, and he could practically hear his Lǎolao’s jaw drop and eyes sparkle.

“You have a date tonight too?! Oh, this is just wonderful! Who’s the lucky person? Are they rich? Do they know you have your own business? Have you gone out with them before? Were they cute? Why wouldn’t you tell me about them! Jiejie, how could you not tell me you’ve been dating someone–! Are they actually ugly, and you were embarrassed to tell me? Look, it’s okay, Jiejie, sometimes it really is what’s on the inside that–”

“Lǎolǎo, please.” Pigsy turned and pleaded with her, pouring the customer’s noodles into a bowl and adding the vegetables.

“Oh, Jiejie, I’m just so happy for you, is all! My sweet little sunzi out in the world again! Maybe you can even find little Xiaotian a mother or another father! Oh, wouldn’t that just be lovely.” His grandmother hugged the coloring child, who looked around in confusion.

“Lǎolao, you’re going to crush the kid.” Pigsy’s face was dark red as he rang the counter’s bell and called out the order.

“Come on, I need some answers here. You know how boring my life has gotten since retirement,” his grandmother pleaded.

“Not much to say. It’s the first date, and I haven’t met them, either. Also, I thought you said you understood that I’m not Xiaotian’s–... you know,” Pigsy looked away as the customer took their food.

“Oh? A double blind date! Isn’t that lovely.” Lǎolao clapped her hands, completely ignoring his comment about Xiaotian. “Where to?”

“Some place they recommended.” Pigsy shrugged. “I don’t know much about it, but I don’t get out much.”

“Oh, this is so exciting! I almost wish I could tag along with both of you, but I have to take care of this little monkey man.” His grandmother smiled at Xiaotian and began to tickle him, filling the restaurant with loud squeals of delight.

Pigsy rolled his eyes with a chuckle, going to wash some dishes in the sink when he noticed Tang looking at him, tilting his head curiously. “What’s up?”

“Oh–! Nothing! I just– a date, huh? That’s huge, congrats.” The scholar smiled softly.

“Ah, it’s no big deal, really. I just… I don’t know. Heck, I don’t even know why I agreed to do this whole ‘blind date’ thing. It’s so strange not even knowing the person’s name,” Pigsy confessed.

“Hear you there. But in a way, I think that makes it easier to get to know them, you know? No images, fake names, it’s… comforting, in a way. Especially with the whole ‘background check’ feature so you know it’s less likely for anyone to be a serial killer, haha,” Tang rambled.

“Yeah, I guess that’s part of the reason I signed up too. I mean– that, and because I seriously never go out. Not that I necessarily want to go out more, but you know what I mean.” Pigsy snorted.

Tang laughed. “I do.”

Pigsy smiled before shaking his head and getting to those dishes.

“So… what’s your mystery person like?” Tang asked after a minute of dishwashing.

“Oh– well, you know… they seem real smart and stuff,” Pigsy hesitated to admit, glad to stay facing the sink, so Tang couldn’t see how red his face was becoming. “They’re kinda poetic too, but not in a traditional sense. I don’t even know if they know just how smart they are, it seems kinda natural to them. I dunno.”

“Oh, interesting.” He heard Tang laugh nervously. “I hope you have fun.”

After his face stopped feeling so hot, Pigsy finally asked, “What about you? What���s your mystery man like?”

“He’s really super sweet and considerate, you know? Not very technological, but– heavens, he always knows what to say. He’s also super funny and snarky, and he makes me feel all smart and important, which is crazy because like– it’s just me.” Tang blushed and looked down at his bowl. “He has no idea I’m practically broke. I’m kind of scared to bring it up, you know? Like– ‘hey, let’s go to dinner! Oh, and by the way I can’t afford anything so it’s all on you!’” Tang sighed. “I should probably just cancel…”

“What?! You can’t do that,” Pigsy immediately protested, getting his grandmother’s attention once more.

“What are you two talking about now?” She looked back and forth between the two of them.

“I was– ummm… considering canceling my… date?” Tang gave a sheepish smile, and Pigsy’s grandmother smacked him upside the head.

“Shǎchā! You are not doing that!” She scolded the scholar.

“Wha–?! Why not? I’m flat broke. I can’t even buy a garden salad,” Tang huffed, resting his elbows on the bar.

“So?” Pigsy snorted. “The payment is being lucky enough to enjoy your company, nothing more and nothing less. If he doesn’t accept, run out of the restaurant. Take his wallet if you can. Make him pay.”

Tang laughed. “That’s easy for you to say, anyone would be lucky to date a five-star chef.”

Pigsy rolled his eyes. “I am not a five-star chef–”

His grandmother interrupted him with a scoff. “My recipes are much better than anything that can be found in those froufrou places with the marble floors and glass ceilings– especially with your additions, Jiejie.”

“Gotta agree with your grandmother, Pigsy. Your recipes are one of a kind and anyone would be lucky to go out with a chef as amazing and talented as you.” Tang smiled with so much earnestness it made Pigsy’s cheeks flush again.

“Well, I think anyone’d be lucky to go out with anyone half as smart as you,” Pigsy countered, making Tang hide in his scarf a bit.

His grandmother had something of a smug look on her face when Pigsy glanced at her, but she quickly cleared her throat and started talking to Xiaotian about his drawing. The chef sighed, shaking his head and vowing to one day fully understand that woman.

“So… what time are you closing?” Tang ventured to ask.

“Around 6:30 to try and get some of that dinner rush money before kickin’ everyone out,” Pigsy glanced at the clock yet again.

“Smart. I’ll have to leave around 6 anyway to get ready and all too.” Tang fidgeted with his scarf.

“You going to want another bowl before then?” Pigsy couldn’t help but smirk a little.

“Har-har,” Tang rolled his eyes. “... but yeah, maybe.”

Pigsy laughed. “Don’t stress yourself, it’s a big day for us both.”

“Right, yeah.” The scholar smiled before going back to his current bowl.

Again, Pigsy’s grandmother looked amused at this, but when Pigsy looked, she acted like nothing was wrong and started complimenting Xiaotian’s drawing again.

Pigsy sighed, focusing back on his work as customers began to pour in once more. The chef managed to hold a steady pace that kept him fairly busy, though not busy enough to forget to make Tang another bowl of lo mein he teased him about. Tang ate, Xiaotian colored (even showed a handful to Pigsy when he could), his grandmother gossiped about some of the mahjong ladies, and overall it was a pretty solid work day. He wished Tang the best of luck on his way out, and wished some of that for himself when he closed the restaurant.

“So, you really are going on a date, aren’t you?” His grandmother teased as Pigsy locked the iron security shield.

Pigsy rolled his eyes. “I appreciate your trust in my honesty.”

“I’m just making sure before I get my hopes up. Heaven knows this only happens once in a blue moon,” she teased, making Xiaotian giggle.

“What’re you laughing at, mister?” Pigsy put his hands on his hips dramatically, making the kid laugh more.

“He’s laughing at the fact that you haven’t been on a date since before he was born, isn’t that right, my little dumpling?” Lǎolao pinched his cheeks, which made him whine and go behind Pigsy.

“Lǎolao–”

“I know, I know. It’s not my fault he’s as cute as a button, you know,” She defended herself before Pigsy rolled his eyes again and picked the kid up.

“Miss Xiahui is a lot like my mother, you know? No respect for boundaries. I’m so sorry you have to spend all night with her,” Pigsy apologized dramatically.

“S’okay! She lets me have cookies.” Xiaotian grinned wide, making the chef immediately give his grandmother a look.

“I’ve already told you it’s not my fault he’s so cute.” His grandmother raised her hands in defeat, making the chef roll his eyes yet again.

“If he gets cavities, you’re paying the dentist bill,” Pigsy huffed and started walking home.

“He’s not going to get cavities, Jiejie. Xiaotian knows how to brush his teeth very well, don’t you, dear?” Lǎolao patted the boy’s head as he nodded.

“Right,” Pigsy said. “Let’s just get home.”

“Yes, yes! We have to get you good and ready for your date! Oh, I’m so excited.” Lǎolao had dropped the teasing for genuine elation. “You know, I think if I looked I could find one of your grandfather’s old suits. Oh, you’d look just so handsome in it.”

“Oh, wow, Lǎolao, that’s really not–”

“Necessary? Of course it is! Tonight is a momentous occasion and I want my grandson to look his absolute best.” She ignored his protest and practically marched the rest of the way to their apartment.

Pigsy gave a nice, long sigh. “You’re gonna have a long night, kid.”

“No bedtime?” Xiaotian’s face lit up.

“Who knows.” Pigsy snorted and picked up the pace to follow his grandmother (who, for someone in their 80s, was rather spritely).

When they got home, his grandmother quickly pulled out old boxes and had him try on three suits before finally finding a Western Style from the 40s. His grandmother also gave him gold square cufflinks, as well as a blue and pink floral tie. He managed to at the very least convince her to let him wear his own socks and shoes, and after she spritzed him down with peach perfume, the look was finished.

“Lǎolao, you don’t have to do this, my suit is plenty good,” Pigsy pointed out as his grandmother straightened out his suit coat, looking like she was going to cry.

“No, no. You look absolutely perfect.” She smiled, finally stepping back to admire her work. “Your date will absolutely love you.”

“Lǎolao.” Pigsy’s face turned tomato red.

His grandmother chuckled. “I suppose we could use a third opinion.” She tapped her chin, before calling Xiaotian in from the living room, and in a moment, the five-year-old pattered over. “Xiaotian, do you think Pigsy looks nice?”

Xiaotian gave two thumbs up and a toothy grin. “Fancy!”

“See? You look perfect.” His grandmother smiled and patted Xiaotian’s head.

“I never said I looked bad, I’m just saying it’s– it’s a lot, and I really don’t know if I need Waigong’s suit–”

“Nonsense, Bajie. He’d want you to have it.” His grandmother cupped Pigsy’s cheek.

“It’s… a blind date from an anonymous chat site, Lǎolao. I really don’t think–”

“You never know, Jiejie. You could be meeting the love of your life,” She hummed.

“Right… sure,” Pigsy agreed to drop his protests for the sake of not dampening his grandmother’s spirits.

The elder pig demon smiled again, patting Pigsy’s cheek twice. “Now, let me find my camera; I want to capture how handsome you look.” She winked and left the room.

“Lǎolao, I really don’t have time for– never mind.” Pigsy shook his head when he realized she was just going to insist. He sighed, giving himself another once over in the mirror and adjusting his tie.

“You really think this isn’t too much, kid?” Pigsy asked Xiaotian.

The boy shook his head. “You look like a detective!”

Pigsy laughed, realizing Xiaotian was 100% correct. “All I’m missing is the hat, darn.” He snapped his fingers playfully.

“And a gun,” the boy giggled.

“Ahhhhh, that might be a bit much kiddo,” Pigsy chuckled, ruffling the kid’s hair. “You gonna be okay with just Lǎolao tonight?”

Xiaotian nodded. “We’re gonna watch Monkey Empire.”

“Again? Didn’t we just finish that?” Pigsy raised a playful eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I wannaaaaaa,” Xiaotian explained eloquently.

“Fair enough. Just don’t let Lǎolao spoil you too much, alright? And make sure you brush your teeth extra good, and put all your toys away for her. I’ll check on you as soon as I get back,” Pigsy said, fixing the kid’s hair since he just messed it up.

“Okie dokie, Piggy.” The boy grinned again.

“Found it!” Pigsy’s grandmother finally called from the other room, and she was back in a flash.

“Oh, you just look so handsome, I could eat you right up, you know that? Your date is a very, very lucky man,” the woman chuckled as she took a photo, not even waiting for him to pose or smile.

“‘Man’? I don’t know their gender,” Pigsy pointed out, but she just waved her hand and snapped another photo.

“Xiaotian, go join Bajie, I want to get my two favorite, most handsome boys together,” she instructed and Xiaotian ran to Pigsy. The chef scooped him up and they both smiled for the camera.

After a few photos were taken, Pigsy glanced at the clock and said, “Alright, are we done? I’m gonna be late soon.”

“Yes, yes, you can go,” His grandmother sighed dramatically– though snapped another photo anyway.

Pigsy rolled his eyes, setting Xiaotian back down before kneeling to his level.

“You promise to be good for Lǎolao?” He asked the five-year-old, who nodded seriously. “Good. I’ll see you later tonight, kiddo.” The chef smiled and stood before Xiaotian grabbed his pant leg.

“I’ll miss you,” Xiaotian whispered, and Pigsy… wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.

“I’ll… be back soon, kid. Don’t stress yourself,” he finally said, patting the kid on the head again.

“Besides,” Lǎolao said, getting the kid to look at her, “you have a very fun night planned with your Lǎolao, and we’re going to have lots of fun, aren’t we, Xiaotian?”

“Yeah! We’ll watch Monkey King!” The kid grinned once more, making the elder pig demon chuckle.

“We most certainly will. And we’ll eat lots of cookies and candy and break lots of Bajie’s silly rules,” his grandmother enabled the kid’s natural desire for rebellion.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” Pigsy half-joked, arms crossed.

“It’s what keeps me young,” Lǎolao teased right back.

“Right.” Pigsy rolled his eyes. “Well, I gotta get going so–”

“WAIT!” Xiaotian suddenly shouted, running out of the room, while Pigsy and his grandmother just looked at each other in confusion. They didn’t have to wait long, though, as Xiaotian was back in the matter of seconds with a drawing in his hand.

“For luck!” He explained, handing it over.

Pigsy accepted the offering, laughing when he saw it was a very crude drawing of Xiaotian, Pigsy’s grandmother, Tang, and himself all eating noodles at the restaurant with even cruder hearts everywhere.

“I love it, kid. I’ll put it right here for safe keeping,” Pigsy complimented, folding the drawing so it fit right by his pocket square, which made Xiaotian so happy that, before Pigsy could prepare himself, the kid hugged him.

“Have fun!” Xiaotian grinned nice and big before stepping back and waving.

“I will.” Pigsy waved a little and headed to the door.

“Yes, have lots of fun! I expect to hear about tonight in great detail tomorrow!” His grandmother waved as well, to which Pigsy laughed and shook his head before exiting the apartment door and heading out into the night.

.o0o.

Pigsy arrived at the restaurant at exactly 7:57, three minutes early and before his date. The place was classy, but clearly small and not quite known in the public sphere yet. There was no need for a wait or reservation, so Pigsy was taken to an outside table for two by the fountain.

He could see why this mystery person would pick a place like this. It was nice, but hidden away, and not too expensive. His person was sensible and romantic, and this choice was a reflection of that.

Pigsy opened up the website on his phone, telling his date he’d arrived and got a table, before he settled himself down to wait and think (his favorite activity!).

Pigsy was totally going to fuck this night up.

He hadn’t been on a date in years, and even then, the ones he’d had with Wujing were full of personal mistakes he wasn’t keen on repeating. He knew for a fact he was going to sound incredibly stupid, especially in comparison to his eloquent partner, but that was hardly the least of his worries. Maybe he’d get too angry at something, and it would totally freak them out, or he’d bring up Xiaotian, and they’d hate that he had a kid (even though he wasn’t his kid technically, he was just his guardian, but that would also probably scare them away, creating a perfect lose-lose situation). And heavens, that wasn’t even mentioning the fact that there was a good chance Pigsy forgot to even tell them he was a demon– he was so unbelievably stupid like that.

At exactly eight o'clock, the waiter stopped by and dropped off two glasses of water before disappearing. Pigsy tried his best not to chug it immediately, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get thirsty when he was nervous. To try and force himself not to, he kept tracing the rim of his glass again and again and again, while keeping an eye on the door.

A part of the chef wondered if his date stood him up. There were a handful of people already here; maybe his date had arrived, saw Pigsy, realized their date was a hideous pig demon, and simply slipped away. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time…

No, no. Pigsy had to wait and be rational. He needed to remember the little drawing in his suit pocket reminding him it was all going to be fine, even if it wasn’t fine, and he’d be okay. So instead of completely losing his mind and worrying to death, Pigsy placed a hand against the pocket that held the drawing and took nice, long breaths before taking a casual and normal drink of water.

However, just then, the restaurant’s door flung open, and Pigsy’s heart practically leapt into his throat as he saw–

Tang…???

No… no, yeah, that was Tang all right, panting with his back against a wall before he looked around the space. When he saw Pigsy, the scholar seemed to share the exact same confusion, head tilting, but he eventually approached the lone pig demon.

“Hey, Pigsy… What’re you doing here?” Tang asked, still catching his breath.

“Same as you, I guess,” Pigsy looked at the fountain, face turning red.

“Right, yeah! Man, that’s one hell of a coincidence, isn’t it?” Tang laughed.

Pigsy laughed as well. “Guess there aren’t many romantic spots left in the city.”

“Guess not.” Tang fidgeted with his scarf, looking around the restaurant.

“Your date not here yet?” Pigsy guessed.

Tang shrugged. “They said they were, but I don’t see them anywhere.”

“Maybe they just lied and said they were here when they’re really just on their way, I used to do that all the time.” Pigsy snorted.

“Yeah, maybe,” Tang laughed. “You– uh– don’t mind if I sit here for right now, do you?”

“Be my guest. You could use the water anyway,” Pigsy teased, and Tang graciously accepted the seat and water.

“I just– I don’t know, me and them agreed to meet here at eight, and I planned to be here at eight o’clock sharp, so I just– I don’t know. Maybe they stood me up– god, that would be so embarrassing,” Tang whispered that last bit to himself.

“Hey. Relax. You’re only five minutes late, and they aren’t even here yet. Besides, they’d have to be a complete moron to stand you up, of all people,” Pigsy pointed out.

Tang rolled his eyes with a little smile. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. Where’s your date?”

“Late, probably. Or maybe we’ve both been stood up, wouldn’t that be something?” Pigsy mused.

“Misery does love company,” Tang laughed sadly.

“He’ll show, I’m sure of it.” Pigsy tried his best to sound comforting.

“Thanks. I’m sure yours will too.” Tang did his best too.

Pigsy nodded, pulling out his phone again and checking to see if they’d messaged him yet, but he was greeted with the exact same screen as minutes before.

He sighed.

“So, you said your date picked this place?” Tang asked out of the blue.

“Uh– yeah. I’ve never been.” Pigsy shrugged.

“I’ve only been here once or twice, but their mango pudding is to die for; though, it’s not as good as yours or your grandmother’s,” Tang stated like it was obvious.

“Funny, my date recommended the mango pudding too. Must be really popular,” Pigsy recalled.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was, it’s amazing.” Tang fidgeted with his scarf again before pulling out his phone. “Though, I gotta ask– why would you agree to a restaurant? You always hate eating out?”

“It was a very persuasive review.” Pigsy snorted. “Besides, I didn’t wanna sound like a hard ass or anything, and it's not like I had any better ideas.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” the scholar assured, typing something.

Pigsy sighed, looking around the restaurant at other couples drinking wine and being all couple-y, when his phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Sorry I’m late! Where are you? Just got here.”

Pigsy looked around, and not seeing anyone by the door, he frowned, quickly replying:

FineCuisine81: “Check the outside section.”

“You messaging your date too?” Tang laughed.

“Yeah, they said they’re here, so…” Pigsy trailed off.

“Oh! So’s mine, so I should probably– like– go, haha,” Tang said, already standing.

Pigsy just smiled somewhat sadly as the scholar shuffled away, not giving the pig demon a glance.

Whatever, he was sure it wasn’t personal (or– he hoped, anyway) and so pulled out his phone to find another message.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Where are you sitting?”

Pigsy looked around only briefly before sending:

FineCuisine81: “By the fountain in the middle section.”

Pigsy tapped his fingers anxiously against the table, staring at his screen intently as three dots bounced around.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “There's a lot of people here. I guess I should also ask what you’re wearing too, haha”

“More like lots of humans,” Pigsy muttered to himself.

No– Pigsy couldn’t be bitter, he was supposed to have fun. It didn’t matter if his date was looking around and clearly expecting a human, it was–

Pigsy placed his hand on his breast pocket and took deep breaths, reminding himself he was fine and loved, and he’d be okay.

FineCuisine81: “Old blue western suit and a floral tie.”

He waited with bated breath, barely even daring to glance around to see if his date was actually looking for him or not. He did catch another glance at Tang, which the scholar returned with a funny shrug that Pigsy returned, before they both just went back to their phones.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “I still don’t see you. You aren’t lying about being there, are you?”

Pigsy knitted his eyebrows, almost offended if he didn’t understand how bad first date jitters could be.

FineCuisine81: “I promise I’m not.”

Pigsy wasn’t even sure he was breathing anymore with how nervous he was watching the screen. At one point, the waiter stopped by to try and ask him if he was ready to order, but he pushed them away immediately.

A minute passed, then two.

Then–

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Are you sure you’re at the right restaurant? The Huayuan Restaurant? The one on Lianren Road?” FineCuisine81: “I promise.”

Pigsy bit his cheek. He knew it wouldn’t be enough– maybe he needed to do something.

FineCuisine81: “What are you wearing? Maybe I can find you.”

Pigsy barely had to wait a second for a reply.

ShiningAnthropod_Admirer: “Red and gold tang suit with embroidery along the sleeves and sides. Also glasses lol.”

Pigsy paused, because that–... No… No, it– it couldn’t be, Pigsy would know if it was Tang. There– there would be signs. He’d know. Pigsy wasn’t that stupid.

He saw Tang circling around the fountain again, and this time when he locked eyes with Pigsy the scholar sighed and sat across from him once more.

Tang suit. Gold embroidery. Glasses.

“I’m pretty sure my date is just lying about being here at this point. I mean– I’ve circled the entire place like– ten times, but I just– I’m a little glad your table is still empty too.” Tang laughed like he was going to cry.

Holy fucking shit…

“I-I– Tang, I’m–” Pigsy was utterly dumbfounded because the man sitting in front of him was his mystery man– the fiercely intelligent and kind soul he had spent months chatting with, being too scared of what he’d think if he saw his appearance. Iit was him. It was Tang.

“A-are you okay? You look a little shaken,” Tang laughed again, this time picking up a napkin to wipe his eyes.

Pigsy didn’t think, just grabbed Tang’s hands and stroked them with his thumbs.

“Wha–? Pigsy? Are you alright?” The scholar was clearly startled, but didn’t break the grasp.

“Tang, I-I– It’s– I’m–” Pigsy growled in frustration, words alluding him.

“Yes…?” Tang asked softly, his eyes sparkling like diamonds against the night sky and glasses.

Pigsy took another breath, feeling warmth radiating from Xiaotian’s drawing as he did, and said, “1940’s western suit. Floral tie.”

Tang pulled back a little, opening his mouth to speak, before he looked Pigsy up and down. It only took seconds before his eyes widened with recognition.

“No… no, no– you–? Me? No, you– you wouldn’t, I–” Tang shook his head. “I appreciate you trying to save my night, but–”

“Tang. My username was ‘FineCuisine81’ because I’m a chef and was born in 1981. I didn’t bring up the restaurant or Xiaotian or my grandmother or– much of my past really because you know I’m pretty hesitant about most of it,” Pigsy pleaded for him to understand.

“I-I– you– you wouldn’t–”

“C’mon, Tang. You know me– you know my snark by now, don’t you?” Pigsy tried to joke, but Tang snagged his hands away to cover his face.

“Pigsy, I-I– did you look me up? Is this some kind of– sick joke? Getting payback for all those stupid bowls of noodles?” The scholar was crying by now.

“Tang! I would never– I didn’t know it was you, but now that I do, I– I couldn’t be happier, I swear.” Pigsy smiled despite his overwhelming worry.

Tang shook his head. “No– I’m– I’m not good enough for you– I’m such a mess a-and I’m broke a-and scrawny a-and anxious a-and–”

“Tang, you’re plenty good enough– you’re so much better than me, anyways,” Pigsy laughed and sniffled. “You’re so smart and kind and likable and–”

“B-but you’re really nice too! A-and you have a real job that pays well and a loving grandmother a-and you’re a guardian– and me? I’m just some loser with a nose in a book,” Tang interrupted.

“We– There’s a reason we wanted to meet our ‘mystery person’, Tang. We both saw… something in them– something that made us want more” Pigsy smiled as he wiped away one of the scholar’s tears. “I… I really don’t want to throw that away because I’m scared.”

Tang finally opened his eyes enough to get another good look at Pigsy. It was terrifying to be inspected by him, but Pigsy managed to hold strong and met his gaze with a soft, tearful smile that eventually got Tang to laugh and shake his head.

“We are so stupid, aren’t we?” He asked, and Pigsy removed his hands.

“Oh, absolutely,” Pigsy couldn’t help but agree. “But hey– I’m sure Lǎolao’ll love to hear it took us a whole fifteen minutes to realize we were here for each other.”

“Oh, heavens, she’s never going to let that go, is she?” Tang copied the pig, the redness in his face starting to leave.

“I’m pretty sure she’ll hold it above us until the day she dies,” Pigsy chuckled. “On the bright side, though, at least we’re both idiots.”

“Fair enough.” Tang smiled and looked at the fountain. “I just– I really picked out a restaurant– I am so sorry, this food is going to be trash compared to yours.”

“Bah, I’m sure that’s not true if you like it.” Pigsy winked.

Tang’s face went red again. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure; I like instant ramen.”

“Only because it’s so cheap.” The chef snorted.

“You don’t know the depths of my depravity,” Tang refuted.

“Well, I’d certainly like to. That’s why we’re still here, isn’t it?” Pigsy wiped his own face.

“Y-yeah! It– it is.” Tang smiled shyly. “I just– wow, I’m so embarrassed. I mean, the suit, the tie–”

“Hey, how’s about we just forget about fifteen minutes ago, and start over, okay? No guilt, no anxiety, nothing. Just us having a nice evening out,” Pigsy proposed.

Tang thought about it for a moment before nodding. “I’d like that a lot, Pigsy.”

“Then, it’s settled. We drove here together and the waiter sat us together, and we’re now deciding which wine to order together. That good?” Pigsy asked.

Tang nodded. “Sounds perfect, Pigsy.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

#lmk #lego monkie kid #freenoodles #pigsy lmk #tang lmk #my fics #mk lmk #pigsy's grandmother #idiots in love #miscommunication but not the annoying kind the cute kind #pre canon #blind date #stupid ass homosexuals #it's okay tho bc we love them #jfdsak;lfjdsa #everyone go listen to 'Tonight at Eight' as sung by Zachary Levi for peak vibes #it's only a 1:40 so it's not even long #also it slaps #so #fjdkaslf;jdsaj you don't gotta #...why am I even saying this no one reads the tags #anyways uh #this freenoodles drought is killing me so much I wrote fluff it's insane

[jamdoughnutmagician]

As It Should Be.

Cowboy!Eddie x Female Reader (Fluff)

Summary: Eddie wants to spend the rest of his life with you. Proposing to the girl of his dreams was just the next step.

Warnings: Just tooth-rotting probably badly written fluff

Word Count:1,147

Authour’s Note:I’m absolutely obsessed with cowboy!eddie and so I wanted to write a little something more with him.  If you’re wondering who Miss Evelyn is, she’s a little old lady who is a regular at the pie shop. You should probably check out this thread I wrote with @munsonology to help make sense of things.

also here’s a link to my previous Cowboy!Eddie fic

Masterlist

Wayne unfurled the small velvet box from the depths of his denim work jeans, before cracking it open to reveal the small oval diamond settled nicely onto a delicately weaved gold band.

Eddie eyed the ring in the box with awe, and a slight nervous excitement fizzing inside him.

“Thanks for this, Wayne. I know that this ring means a lot to you.” Eddie nods as he takes the ring and box from his uncle’s hands.

“Your momma would’a wanted you to have it, Ed. I was just holding on to it until you needed it.” Wayne smiles as he lays a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. 

"Think she'll like it, Pa?" Eddie asks, turning his head towards his uncle.

Wayne knew how Eddie could be sometimes. Getting in his own head and worrying too much. 

"Son, that sweet girl loves the bones of you. She looks 'atcha like the sun shines outta your ass. She'll love it, because she loves you." Wayne chuckles in his gruff voice. 

“I just want everything to be perfect for her, y’know?” his big brown eyes look out to the slowly setting sun from the porch overlooking the sprawling fields ahead of him.

“It will be Son. She’s gonna love it.” Wayne smiled as he ruffled the mess of Eddie’s dark curls. 

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

Eddie finished up putting the last few bits into the picnic basket. A few bits of fruit, some bread, as well as a container of Miss Evelyn’s famous fried chicken and mac and cheese, which she had kindly made and gave to Eddie when he told her that he was planning to propose to you. She insisted that if you were going to do this then you should do it right, and with a good meal to share between you. 

Finally finishing up with a bottle of champagne tucked into the basket, and with a little bit of hope, and if all went to plan, the evening would end in a celebration. He makes one final check that the ring is safely hidden away in his pocket before he heard your voice calling out to him.

“Eddie, Honey? Are you ready to go?” You call as you make your way down the stairs, and towards where you know he is in the kitchen.

“Yeah Sugar, we’re all packed up here” he shouts over his shoulder before turning around to look at you.

You’re wearing a cute blue and white chequered sun-dress, and a pair of flat sandals. Your hair is in a perfectly messy updo, with a few loose curls framing your face. 

Eddie can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when he sees you, everyday he counts his lucky stars that you’re with him. He doesn’t want anyone else. You’re it for him. He wants those cosy moments curled up in bed together, he wants those early mornings sharing breakfast together, and every little moment in between.

He takes you by the hand, leading you towards his pickup truck. Opening up the passenger side door, he helps you into your seat. He quickly rushed around to the driver's seat, before hopping behind the wheel next to you.

“Ready Darlin?” 

“Let’s go cowboy!” You laugh.

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

Eddie pulled up to your favourite spot. The sprawling and colourful flower fields with the grand oak tree. The very same tree that you and him had carved your initials into on your one year anniversary of being together.

Getting out of the truck, he once again rushes around to your side to take your hand and help you step down from the passenger side.

With the picnic basket in one hand and your hand in his other you two set off to find the perfect place to set down your blanket. 

Eddie spreads out the soft blanket on to the grass, and you both begin to pull out all the food and drinks from the basket.

The sun is setting, turning the sky a hazy shade of pink and you and Eddie spend it laughing and joking, talking about everything and anything. It was always so easy between you, the conversation never running dry. The food was amazing, you’d have to thank Evelyn for next time she was in the shop, and make sure to save a slice of maple pecan pie for her to take home.

You’d comfortably been laying your head across Eddie’s lap as he leant back against the tree, loosely twirling a strand of hair between his fingers. Just enjoying the comfort of being in each other’s company.

The evening drew in and the small velvet box was burning a hole in Eddie’s pocket. He had to ask you. It was now or never.

“Hey, Darlin’...Look at me a minute, I wanna talk to you..well, I wanna ask you something, really.” he starts.

“What is it Ed?” you say as you begin to sit up, your eyes looking at him so sweetly.

He steadies his breath for a moment. He’d thought for a long time about what he would say to you in this moment, how he’d ask you, but right now his words were failing him. His heart is hammering in his chest.

“I like to think that the stars aligned the day I met you. I knew I wanted to get to know you more. Then when I got to know you more, I knew that I never wanted you out of my life. I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you in it. Darlin’ you’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and I want to be with you forever and always. So what I guess I’m asking you, Sweetheart, is that…Will you marry me?” he finishes, pulling the ring box from out of his pocket and opening it up before you.

You’re overcome with emotions, crying tears of joy as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh my god! Yes!” you cry, wiping away the tears from your eyes.

“Darlin’ I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say that.” he says as he plucks the ring from its box and slips it over your ring finger and pulls you close to kiss you deeply.

“Oh Ed! It’s beautiful.” you marvel, looking at the delicate band that now adorned your finger. 

“It was my Mom’s, she would’ve wanted you to have it.” he smiles.

Your heart warms at his admission. He wanted you to have his mother’s ring. You didn’t think it was possible to love him anymore than you already did, but now your heart was overflowing with emotions for the sweet man in front of you.

He was the only one for you, and you couldn’t be happier to begin to plan the rest of your life with him. Just you and Eddie. Together. As it should be.

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

tagging: @munsonology @sunflowerdaydreamer @itsfreakingbats @seatnights @harringtons-cupid @penguinsandpotterheads

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #cowboy!eddie munson #Cowboy!eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Cowboy!Eddie (Claudia's Version)

[inkedstarlight]

Bittersweet: Chapter Sixteen

Summary: The Inner Circle visits Rita's Bar when Nesta is working. Worlds collide. Read it here on AO3!  Bittersweet Masterlist

March

Left, right, right, left.

Cool sweat perspired from every pore, her labored breathing drowning out every other noise in the gymnasium.

Jab. Feign. Jab. Lead kick.

She’d been here for almost two hours, but her motions were still sloppy, robotic. She was doing something wrong. Frustration powered her movements.

Lead kick. Jab. Jab. Uppercut.

The burning muscles in Nesta’s body screamed at her to stop. They had been for the past half-hour. It was the longest workout she’d done since she’d begun practicing on a regular basis last week, and her bones rattled with every exertion.  

Giving the punching bag one last resounding hit, Nesta stumbled back to rip off the grimy, moist gloves the gym lent out and grabbed her water bottle, all the while gasping for air. Taking inventory of the room, she noticed there were only six other people working out. It was nearing eleven at night; Illyria closed in an hour.

After a little research on Illyria’s website, Nesta gleaned that Cassian worked late hours only on Mondays and Wednesdays. During the rest of the week, his latest class ended at 7pm, making the evening hours perfect for Nesta to get a workout in without running into him. After the class she and Emerie had gone to, she’d decided that she wanted to continue kickboxing, but the last thing she wanted was to see Cassian upwards of three times a week. Illyria was the nearest gym to her apartment, and their prices weren’t completely outrageous like most in the area. Colorado was fucking expensive.

And so, she’d been going to Illyria four days a week to no one’s knowledge, not even Emerie. The few times her friend had asked her if she wanted to attend another self-defense class, Nesta was quick to come up with excuses. If Emerie knew Nesta was practicing on her own – was going out of her way to avoid Cassian – she would give her so much shit.

But for once in her life, it felt like Nesta finally had something that was hers. A couple hours a week where she enjoyed something other than reading a trashy romance novel in bed or making fun of customers with Emerie and Helion, the latter of whom had won that ridiculous tip competition. Nesta ended up in dead last, to no one’s surprise. Now, every night, an unhealthy mix of Lady Gaga, the Dixie Chicks, and Harry Styles played on the overhead speakers at Rita’s. Emerie was still sore about the loss.

Kickboxing brought her peace of mind. With all her thoughts focused solely on the heavy punching bag in front of her, there was no space for darkness or anger or loneliness. Just her body moving to a rhythm only her ears could hear.

Yanking out her earbuds, she began winding down when she spotted Gwyn stretching on the mats just several feet away.

After their one (and only) kickboxing class with Cassian, Emerie and Nesta had grabbed coffee with Gwyn the following Thursday. Once they got over the initial awkwardness of getting to know each other, the three ended up chatting until the worker had to kick them out at closing time. Their conversations were lighthearted and fun, but Nesta couldn’t help but notice the lurking darkness in Gwyn’s striking eyes when she thought no one was looking. It reminded Nesta of herself, of Emerie.

They’d only gotten together only once after the fact to grab lunch, though the group chat Gwyn had created was always dinging with new messages. Funnily enough, Gwyn shared Emerie and Nesta’s dry sarcasm and by the end of the meal, they all wore happy smiles.

“Gwyn!” Nesta uncharacteristically called out to her new friend.

The redheaded beauty looked over her shoulder to where Nesta was now approaching, pleasant surprise etched on her face. Guilt stabbed at Nesta’s chest. I need to make more of an effort.

“Nesta, hi!” Gwyn got to her feet with a smile. She noticed the punching bags Nesta had just come from. “Are you kickboxing?”

“I’ve been practicing a bit,” Nesta admitted.

Gwyn pursed her lips in thought. “I haven’t seen you at Cassian’s classes.”

Nesta, unable to come up with any sort of response, let out an awkward laugh. Gwyn raised a brow, but she didn’t prod further, thank the Gods.

“I’ve actually been meaning to text you guys,” Gwyn said hesitantly, worrying her bottom lip. “I was thinking one of these nights we could make drinks and watch a movie or something at my place? Only if you want to,” she added quickly.

Nesta’s body went rigid. She wasn’t the type of person to do “girls’ night,” and she would wager that Emerie felt the same. Neither of them was good at the whole let’s-drink-margaritas-and-gab-for-hours kind of situations. Nesta hadn’t ever experienced something like that, and it felt silly to do so at her age. Women like Gwyn weren’t friends with people like Nesta, the former far too sweet to be corrupted by Nesta’s ugly past. And sure, Emerie knew about Tomas, but Nesta kept the rest locked away. The thought of getting even closer with these women… it was terrifying.

At the same time, something inside her lit up at Gwyn’s words. A part of her wanted to get drunk off tequila and talk about stupid shit and ogle over hot actors in a movie. She’d never yearned for a friendship quite like that but after meeting both Gwyn and Emerie, it felt like a real possibility.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Nesta found herself saying.

*                      *                      *

“For the love of God, Helion, save all of our ears and turn this shit off,” Emerie groaned in exasperation, the Dixie Chick’s “Cowboy Take Me Away” playing for the fifth time that evening.

“Oh, come on, Em,” Helion stretched his arms out and gestured to the other side of the bar, “they love it!”

Indeed, the patrons more than happy for a reprise as they howled the chorus that’d been stuck in Nesta’s head since she clocked in. Gods-damn that stupid competition.

Emerie groaned, dropping her elbows to the bar top, and burying her head in her arms. “How much longer must we endure this torture?”

Helion checked his bare wrist. “Only two weeks until the competition starts back up.”

Emerie lifted her head if only to point a finger at Nesta. “You better step up your game when those two weeks roll around. Gods know Thesan is too shy and Viviane is too busy eye-fucking a certain firefighter to pay attention to her surroundings.”

“Hey!” Dishes clattered in the sink as Viviane’s voice called out from the kitchen where she was doing dishes. Emerie shot Nesta a toothy grin at the sound of short-strided footsteps that got louder and louder until Viviane was standing before them, arms crossed over her chest, her platinum hair tied in a messy knot.

“Kallias and I are just friends,” she huffed, her chin raising high. Emerie, Nesta, and Helion all gave her flat looks.

“Of course,” Emerie purred. “Thank you so much for coming all the way over here to let us know –”

Emerie’s words were cut off by a wet towel being thrown at her head. She ducked just in time, the towel landing on the floor behind her with a splat.  

Viviane crossed her arms, eyes triumphant. “And I pay attention to my surroundings just fine, thank you very much.”

With a swivel of her heel, she disappeared back into the kitchen.

“Can you believe her?” Helion whisper-shouted, ever the gossip. He playfully tugged on the bottom of Nesta’s ponytail. “She’s totally in love with him.”

Emerie nodded her agreement emphatically. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Helion opened his mouth to say more when a voice cut him off.

“Nesta!” Elain’s all-too-familiar voice called from behind. Nesta looked up from the negroni she was making only to wish she could disappear.

Oh, no.

No, no, no, no, no.

Standing near a vacant table stood an excited Elain, the rest of Feyre’s little circle surrounding her. Feyre gave a small wave, Rhysand lifting his violet eyes to look at her before pulling out a seat for the former to sit. Azriel was holding Elain’s hand, tugging her toward the booth seats. Amren wiggled her fingers playfully, her dark hair swishing lavishly on the top of her bare shoulders.

When Nesta’s eyes finally met Cassian’s, and he was staring intensely at her before sliding his gaze behind her shoulder where Helion stood closely behind her. When he returned his attention to her, she swore his eyes had darkened. She clenched her fist behind the bar.

“Who is that guy?” Helion asked, promptly Nesta to turn around. He subtly nodded his chin at Cassian.

“That would be my youngest sister’s friend.”

“Well, I think he wants to kill me.”

“It’s likely,” Emerie chimed in. “He has the hots for Nesta.”

“Emerie!” Nesta hissed. She spared a glance over her shoulder to make sure no one heard. Cassian was talking with Elain and Azriel. She blew out a sigh.

“Oh-ho, is that right?” Helion straightened with renewed interest, mischief coating his every word.

“No, it is not right. Emerie is delusional.” Nesta shot her friend a look that said, I’m going to cut you.

“Whatever you say, princess,” Helion cooed, brushing her hip with his fingertips, his hand lingering just a couple seconds too long as he walked past her.

Ever since Nesta thanked Helion for his help and discretion after Tomas paid her a visit at Rita’s, they’d fallen into a comfortable friendship. Strangely enough, Helion was one of the few people Nesta allowed to touch her. He was a physically affectionate person by nature, and Nesta had allowed him to hug her on more than one occasion. It helped that they mutually knew their friendship was strictly platonic.

Glancing at the table again, Nesta noticed that Cassian’s eyes burned a hole into the exact spot Helion touched her.

“Look how jealous he is,” Helion chuckled next to Nesta as she slid the negroni across the bar to a customer. He leaned closer to her ear as he whispered, “What do you say we have a little fun? I bet he looks hot when he rages.”

Both Nesta and Emerie spoke at the same time.

“Don’t you dare –”

“Oh my gods, do it –”

Helion doubled over in a fit of laughter, Emerie howling along with him.

“Would you two grow the fuck up?” she seethed, resulting in another round of laughter from her coworkers.

She turned away from their idiotic tactics to see Amren approach the bar, heels clicking loudly on the linoleum floor. A perpetual smirk played on her darkly lined lips.

“I was going to give you a heads up,” Amren gestured to the table behind her with a grimace, “but your endearing sister insisted it be a surprise.”

She was no doubt referring to Elain. Nesta heaved out a sigh. “It’s fine. I’m just surprised… everyone came.”

Amren shrugged. “We were all feeling restless and sober. Cassian mentioned we hadn’t been to Rita’s in a long time – we used to come here almost every weekend – and Elain was instantly sold on the idea.”

There was no way in hell that Cassian didn’t know Nesta worked there. Whenever they saw each other, he usually asked how work was going. She contemplated that for a moment, cold annoyance warring against warm pleasure. Gods, she was being ridiculous.

“Who’s this?”

Nesta looked up to see Emerie pointing at Amren. The woman had no manners.

Nesta sighed and gave a lazy introduction. “Emerie, this is Amren. Amren, this is Emerie. You both like emo music and making my life a living hell.”

The twin grins the women gave each other was enough to send a shiver down Nesta’s spine. Nesta went back to the drink she was pouring as they talked for a couple minutes before Amren excused herself back to the table.

“Aren’t you going to order drinks?” Nesta called after her.

Amren turned with a mischievous grin. “I was actually hoping you’d come to us. How do you expect me to order for six people?” Her grin turned into a fake pout that Nesta wanted to rip off. She knew what Amren was doing.

A couple of customers had walked in and sat at the bar while Nesta was talking with Amren, so she took care of them before going out on the floor. She and Helion tag-teamed it – Emerie had gone on her break – all the while the latter stood close and touched her the entire time. She knew she should put a stop to it; it was ridiculous to play games like this. But she secretly liked the idea of Cassian paying attention to her, getting jealous of another man.

When the rush died down and Helion could handle the bar on his own, Nesta crossed the floor and approached the table where everyone sat, nerves hurting her stomach.

“Hey, what’s up?” Everyone looked up as she greeted them. They all smiled back at her, some more than others.

“We thought we’d visit you at work!” Elain exclaimed with the clap of her hands. She looked Nesta up and down. “I’ve never realized how good you look in that uniform; you’re always rushing out the door. I bet you get hit on a lot.”

Nesta flashed her sister an uncomfortable smile as everyone watched. “Heh, something like that.”

“Who’s that guy at the bar, your coworker? He’s cute,” Feyre cut in. Gods, what was with these people and their obsession with her love life? They had a single-track mind.

Nesta couldn’t help noticing however, the way that Cassian visibly tensed in response to both Elain and Feyre’s comments. She would never admit it, but a part of her reveled in his reaction.

“Yeah, that’s Helion. We’re just friends.”

“I didn’t realize friends touch each other like that.” Cassian’s voice was like gravel as everyone turned to look at him with surprise.

“What’s it to you?” Nesta glared down at him.

He met her stare with more bravery than most men who were unlucky enough to witness her wrath.

“Um, do you think you can make me a strawberry mojito?” Elain’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. Nesta turned to look at her sister whose eyes were darting between Nesta and Cassian.

Nesta plastered a smile on her face. “Of course, Elain. Anyone else?”

“Jack and coke,” Cassian rumbled. Clearing his throat, he added, “please.”

Nesta struggled to focus as everyone gave her their drink order. She felt Cassian’s eyes on her the entire time, but she refused to acknowledge his attention.

*                      *                      *

The rest of the night flew by in a blurred episode of making drinks and entertaining customers. Nesta’s feet were aching from all the running around, and her cheeks hurt from fake smiling. On the bright side, Helion had taken pity on Nesta and Emerie, and he switched up the music to a hypnotic R&B mix. He then convinced them to take a shot, which then turned into two and then three. More than once, Nesta caught herself swaying her hips to the beat.

Meanwhile, Elain and the rest of the crew comfortably remained at their table, ordering more rounds of drinks every so often. They’d been there for almost three hours, and it was clear they were all quite tipsy. It was Elain’s cheeks that gave her away; her face grew flushed when she consumed alcohol due to a mild allergic reaction. And right now, those smooth cheeks glowed red under the dim lighting of the bar. Feyre also had an easy tell; she broke out in uncharacteristic giggles when she drank.

Nearly every time Nesta glanced in their direction, Cassian was already watching her. He’d steadily been drinking jack and cokes. Nesta would guess he’d had about four so far, but he remained composed. Except for his eyes. They simmered with enigmatic interest.

It was nearly one in the morning; Rita’s closed at two. Helion’s shift ended at midnight, so it was just Emerie and Nesta tending the bar. The former was clearing a couple empty tables when Cassian gracefully slipped into the barstool directly in front of Nesta. She looked up from the glass she was drying to meet his intense gaze, a strange sense of déjà vu hitting her in the middle of her chest. His dark eyes were blurry and hooded with alcohol. It was a good look for him. Gods, she forgot how much room he took up.

“Jack and coke?”

Unblinking, Cassian swallowed roughly and nodded at her.

Nesta turned her back to him to grab the handle of Jack Daniels, using the moment of reprieve to exhale the air she was holding in. Stop freaking out. It’s just Cassian. Willing herself to recompose, Nesta managed to face Cassian once again, easily finishing his drink and sliding it across the granite counter between them.

“Having fun?” She gestured to his friends, all of whom hadn’t seemed to notice Cassian had even left the table.

Cassian brought the glass to his full lips, taking two large swallows which amounted to just a little less than half the drink. Nesta watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he gulped, the columns of his neck tanned and thick.

Tanned and thick? Gods, I blame those fucking shots Helion shoved into my hands.

Cassian shrugged in response to Nesta’s poor attempt at making conversation. “I love my family, but sometimes big groups like that are… I don’t know.”

“Draining?” Nesta suggested.

“Precisely,” Cassian agreed. He rested his arms on the bar and leaned forward. “More importantly, are you having fun?”

“Living the dream.”

That got a smile out of him. The knot in Nesta’s stomach unraveled slightly.

“Can I at least buy you a drink?”

“You going to make it yourself?”

Cassian didn’t miss a beat. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

“Anything?” Nesta put her arms on the bar, leaning her hip on the bar so she was eye-level with Cassian. She knew the angle pushed her tits together, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. In fact, she found herself wanting to. “That’s tempting.”

“Tempting,” Cassian murmured the word, his eyes unabashedly running down her neck, not quite dipping below the dangerously low neckline of her shirt. He met her gaze once again, and that’s when Nesta realized how close their faces were from each other.

“You know I work here,” Nesta whispered loud enough for only him to hear before she could even think about what she was saying.

“And?”

A gulp. “You know I work at Rita’s, and you were the one to suggest coming here tonight.”

Cassian’s full lips tilted into a smirk. “Ask me what you really want to know, Nesta.”

Nesta couldn’t bring herself to ask him. Her throat burned with the desire to let the words out.

“Maybe I’m not as transparent as I thought.” Cassian shook his head with a chuckle after several beats of silence.

He pulled away from her and stood, throwing down a fifty dollar bill, but not before reaching between them and brushing a strand of hair behind Nesta’s ear. He looked down at her with an intense look. “Good night, sweetheart.”

Nesta was still leaning into the ghost of Cassian’s touch long after he’d left.

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

tag list (let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@sjmships @sleeping-and-books @sirgwaines @books-for-sure @blowing-mikey @b00kworm @wineywitch202 @drielecarla @liquifyme @gisellefigue08 @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @loysydark @stardelia @sayosdreams @maastrash @superspiritfestival @courtofjurdan @ireallyshouldsleeprn @thewayshedreamed @booksstorm @laylaameer01 @rainbowcheetah512 @swankii-art-teacher​ @champanheandluxxury

#bittersweet #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #nessian #my writing #acomaf #fanfiction

[burnwater13]

Dank Farrik! Why was he still dreaming about Morgan Elsbeth?! Grogu had no idea, but it made him very annoyed. He wondered if he should tell his dad about the dream or if he should reach out to Master Skywalker… Either way it wasn’t going to be a good conversation.

By definition a good conversation was about things like food you loved, your best friends, when you were finally going to get a pet massiff, and what features you wanted on the next starship you acquired for bounty hunting and other purposes. You know… good things. 

A conversation about a dream was already problematic. When you had been raised at the Jedi Temple they were more than problematic. Sometimes they were actually prophetic. Grogu had always been uncomfortable with those dreams. To begin with, you never knew if they were true or not. Then, you didn’t know when they were actually going to happen. Sometimes the Force provided a little more guidance, but more often than not you were stuck wondering when Master Kelleran was going to trip over that thing you promised to put away and subsequently sprains his wrist.

Dreaming of Morgan Elsbeth more than a few times probably meant that he’d be stuck dealing with the mean lady at some point in the nebulous future and honestly the only nebulous thing Grogu liked was the actual Gorg nebula, found in Hutt space. He mostly liked it because it was shaped like a gorg and they delicious no matter which cooking method you used. Dealing with Morgan Elsbeth was not delicious in any way, shape, or form.

If Grogu talked to his dad, Din Djarin was very likely to tell him to stopping eat right before bedtime. Grogu would have to explain that the only way he really enjoyed a good night’s sleep was to have a full stomach because it wouldn’t growl and grumble all through the night, disturbing him and waking him up. Then his dad would suggest that maybe he not eat a certain food. Grogu appreciated the thought but he didn’t think it mattered if bad dreams mostly came after a big dish of freeze dried froglets. They were always worth the risk or put in Mandalorian terms, he liked those odds. 

And that wouldn’t feature into the discussion this time, because they were fresh out of freeze dried froglets. They needed to get some more and just hadn’t done it yet. Grogu had enjoyed a nice boring meal of bone broth and dung worms sprinkled with yob shrimp flakes. They added a nice little bit of texture to the worms. Importantly, he hadn’t let his dad add any Mandalorian spices to his food, because if there was something that was going to mess with his sleep it was burping up hot sauce. 

No. Grogu would not be bringing this problem to his dad. So that meant he should probably meditate and try to communicate with Master Luke via their connection through the Force. He wondered what Master Luke would make of the whole thing. Morgan Elsbeth definitely looked angry. She was fighting with someone. But she had been such an unbalanced soul that Grogu was certain that this dream represented her fighting within herself as much as it reminded him of the fight on Corvus. Not that he saw that fight. At least not with his eyes. He certainly knew it was happening because, you know, the Force. 

Master Skywalker would probably ask what he thought it meant before providing any thoughts of his own. Grogu hated when people did that. If he knew what he thought he wouldn’t need to seek advice from anyone else. He wasn’t there to waste their time or his own. But, in order to just get that part over with before he went outside to meditate, Grogu considered why he might still dream about the magistrate who was so problematic. 

It wasn’t because he ate the wrong food. He knew that. It also wasn’t because he was in anyway interested in her experience as an Imp. Her backstory was like so many other Imps it was practically a cliche. People had been mean to her and now she was a mean greedy thoughtless violent selfish horrible person. Well, people had been mean to Grogu and he hadn’t followed that path to the dark side. A life lived like that was for fools. Grogu was not a fool. 

As he sat by his pond, he heard the soft peeping sounds that little frogs made and the buzz of insects and his attention was caught by the flight of a beautiful, non-carnivorous, butterfly. It flitted about and dazzled him with it’s twisting, turning flight path. And then he knew why he was dreaming of Morgan Elsbeth. 

He needed to remember that if you forgot that beauty existed in the world, despite the pain and anger and turmoil, you would never find happiness, only more pain and anger. He didn’t want to live like that. Not when he could enjoy the beauty that surrounded him, even when it was a just a tiny butterfly on a planet that was mostly lava. This was definitely the Way. 

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #butterfly

[nanabrainrot]

After reading the story with Lalo’s death, I’m curious about MC in Breaking Bad taking care of Hector. I’d love to see that ! Maybe she’d meet Walt and Jesse, who knows ?

I was j thinking of this; she ran into jesse a few times and has yet to meet walt because she stays at home with hector unless she goes out to get a necessity or her weird little home improvement efforts but I wrote a drabble on it </3 hmmc is so sweet despite her circumstances like she rly is j trying her best

Home Improvement

Summary: you like to refresh the house and practice your English. WC: 1528

It is hot out, admittedly thanks to the heat in New Mexico. The weather conditions were less than ideal for someone not accustomed to dry and hot climates but it was a reminder of Chihuahua. A slice of nostalgia packed in a carry away box and left to rot in the back of the fridge. It only consoled you that the same sun beamed down on you at a different time in different coordinates.

It feels like starting over, a rebirth, but with complications like a baby born with the cord around its neck wriggling and blue in the face.

But it’s not, it’s just a passing moment. Hector stays inside, given by his circumstances, but he will occasionally indulge in a walk if coaxed enough. Tuco stopped by often, Marco and Leonel less often, with their faces stiff and hands tense as they tentatively hand you a hard candy, then a soft one for Hector of course.

The place is a piece of shit compared to the house in Chihuahua, the hacienda where you could bathe in the sun but differently it feels more relaxed in the shitty house in the desert of Albuquerque, but some knick knacks serve little reminders; men really have no eye for decor, you think. Tuco is no handyman after getting out, that hot-head, relaying just the bare bones of meals and the scummy television. 

Internally, you wish Lalo would have let you have your own savings account. Nacho did deliver some money to you before he vanished and you saved it, sparsely trying to budget after twenty some years of knowing nothing about finances. Tuco was sweet enough to give an allowance and Marco and Leonel always secretively left a thick wad of cash every few months when they popped in. But thankfully, it’s enough for some paint this week.

The paint you can’t reach.

An accent wall with wallpaper would surely lighten the ambience of the shitshow house, still sorting out how to live without Lalo was a mess. It was a mix of good days and bad days, the days missing someone loving you and then the days where you recall he was not the best husband, that what you had was not healthy and not right. It’s liberating, freeing, so you choose a wallpaper too. If you could reach that one too.

“Lady, you need some help?”  

Frozen. Oh, Lalo’s not here. He can’t beat the shit out of some worker trying to help you, but at the turn of your neck it isn’t a worker but just… some kid. He didn’t look young enough to be in high school, but he likely graduated a year or two back. The scruff on his face is brown and the hue of his eyes look cold and harsh, but probably just the lighting of the harsh fluorescent lights looming above head.

“I just can’t reach the mint green up there or the dark blue floral paper of the wall. Can you just grab them for me?” you stutter, still acclimating to speaking English more than Spanish. You spoke in Spanish to Hector, but Tuco almost always spoke to you in English. It caused a headache; Lalo never spoke in anything but Spanish to you. Ah, it feels like a bad day and the thought of your accent feels heavy in your throat.

Did you say that right? It was mint, right? How do you phrase it?

“You mean wallpaper?”

“Yes! Wallpaper! I’m still learning English,” you murmur embarrassed as the kid in baggy clothes moves to get the items for you before clunking them into your wobbly little cart. It’s so odd, speaking with strangers without anyone looming over you. It's still hard to go outside without a dress code, no dress constricting the ankles, but you can’t help but try to look good still. 

Maybe he was looking at you from Heaven? He seemed to prefer the kitten wedges with a sundress, but this outside is outside of your realm. The cheap cotton of the clothes in New Mexico compared to the spoils of Chihuahua felt reminiscent of when you had no money in your teens. Ah, it still feels like a bad day.

“Your English is really good, ma’am,” he reassures.

“Really? You understand me?”

There’s the cross look of worry in his face at your mannerisms, the unnerving anxiety of the way your hands twitched and how you looked not at him but past him. “Yeah, perfectly,” the kid chuckles, “you’re a natural, lady.”

A grin, at him, not past him. “You are very nice, young man.”

“Young man? What are you, barely thirty?” he scoffed as you both went to roll your carts to checkout; his was full of thick tubs and strange chemicals. A science project for college, you thought innocently, glancing at his weird collection of items.

“So nice! I’m turning 46 this year - I think?” you murmur the last part, scooting ahead of the boy in the line since you only had the wallpaper and paint; you had been painstakingly washing the brushes over and over to use again. Money suddenly was so important in the past four years you had spent trying to fix up Hector’s house. It was coming along; some knick knacks recycled from Abuelita’s house to try to lift Hector’s spirits and antiques that had been restored to try and make it less scummy. The trials of getting paperwork and steady income was difficult after so many years without any work experience. It was foolish to forget Lalo was mortal.

“You think?” he laughs a little at your skittish self, placing the paint and wallpaper on the conveyor belt for the employee, who smiles half-heartedly. 

“Yeah, my husband never celebrated my real birthday. It got lost over the years but if my birth certificate is right I should be 46 in about two months?”

“Sounds like a shitty husband.”

It sounds like a backhanded compliment, one that you have brewed on, as you count the twenties that Tuco gave you. You miss the feel of pesos a bit, but going back over the border seemed to be a fruitless effort. It would feel like taking two steps back.

“Only sometimes,” you reply softly, taking the receipt from her and scooting forward so he could pay for his numerous tubs and chemicals.

“This is my car!” you cheer, showing him the otherwise unimpressive buggy with little scratches and bumps on it from your errors trying to learn how to drive; poles are always so much closer than they seem…

“You seem really excited for a little buggy, lady,” the kid chuckles, loading his tubs in his trunk of a bright red car. It’s all flashy, like Nacho’s was. “I am! It is hard to learn how to drive after you hit 40,” you grin,”I didn’t touch a wheel until 5 years ago!”

“Damn, you had a chauffeur?” he jokes, strolling next to you to the cart return with his own cart.

“Chaffeur?” you scrunch your brows, pushing the cart in.

“Oh uh, it’s a guy who drives you everywhere.”

“Oh? My husband was my chauffeur?”

“Your shitty husband was your chauffeur, yeah,” he laughs like a silly belly laugh and it makes you giggle. He was a shitty husband, you think sometimes, but not too often. If you reflect too hard you might miss the two decades you spent with him.

“Mister, I’m going home now - I’m my own chauffeur!” you cry out, trying to pronounce the new word like he did - like a real Albuquerque native. “What’s your name, mister?” 

He rolls down his window, a smile playing at his pink lips, “Jesse! You?”

You give him your name, not even a thought that the first thing that left your mouth for once wasn’t “Mrs. Salamanca” at the question. It starts to feel like a good day.

“Tuco, buenos tar - I mean good afternoon! I bought - not buyed! - the wallpaper and paint for our sanctuary,” you holler, happy at the conversation. Usually, you were too iffy to allow for help but the only other option was to scale a ladder yourself or talk to the ginormous lumberjack of a man that worked in the store rather than the nice boy.

“Tio, mira, este es un hermoso mint! Mint green para nos muras!” you smile, pecking Hector’s head like Lalo did every time he saw him. His lip twitches.

The past four years without Lalo were not easy, but it’s living. The walls are mint and it smells like paint in the kitchen, something Hector rang his bell about jokingly as you poked your tongue at him. The one wall has wallpaper, but you think you could use more. The sweet floral against the navy looks like Lalo’s shirts. You hope you run into Jesse twice at the store. Internally, you wish him luck with whatever science project he has going.

But for now, the print of Lalo’s shirt is reflected in the wall, seen by Hector’s little glance and your tight throat. And you wonder, a small voice in your head, how do you get back twenty-four years?

-

AUTHOR'S NOTE: the mc from Homemaker will be divided into three routes for people looking for the true ending that works with canon, the Homemaker verse where Lalo wins, and my work "Companion Dog" will be focused on the weird moments in their marriage where ur like "that's not healthy!" ty for the askkkkkkkk i love interactions and interest in my work <3

#nana writes bcs #nana writes #hmmc true #ask nana

[yespolkadotkitty]

Wolfe in Sheep's Clothing, pt 13

I'm sorry it's been 600 years. I wonder if anyone is still interested!

Words: 1400 ~ Pairing: Pero Tovar x OFC Beatrix Wolfe ~ Content: swears

Masterlist of all chapters here

“Do you have any idea how worried I was? Your maid came to tell me you were unwell and that I wasn’t to see you - you could have died, Bea! I was out of my mind!”

Bea worried her lower lip between her teeth as her father chewed her out. She deserved it, she knew that, but it made it no easier.

“You are my only heir. You will carry on the Wolfe lineage! And you almost sacrificed it, for what? To ride your horse five minutes longer?”

“It was only a little rain,” Bea murmured, feeling six years old again.

“You must be more careful!” Lord Wolfe knelt before her, taking her hands in his larger ones. “Sometimes I look at you and see the small child you were. I didn’t take risks with her and I won’t take risks with you. Do you understand?” He frowned, pressing his lips to the backs of her hands, gently. “I’m not convinced that the mercenary - the foreign one - is a good influence.”

Bea scoffed. “He saved me from Sir Gareth!”

Lord Wolfe rose to his feet, sighing, his gaze scanning the walls of her room before landing on her again. “Be that as it may. He is wild, and I want you to walk the path appropriate for a lady. I will have William accompany you from today onwards.”

Bea bit the inside of her cheek to stop a retort. Defending Tovar would not help him.

“Very well,” she said, hollowly.

Lord Wolfe cupped her cheek. “You are your mother’s daughter, my precious girl, and I care for you deeply.”

You care for your legacy deeply, Bea almost snipped at him, but stopped herself. She was being unfair and she knew it.

Her father could have made her wed Sir Gareth. Could have turned a blind eye to his overstepping and brutish behaviour, but he’d sided with her, and she was grateful for that, and everything else he had done for her.

She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I know you do, father.”

He smiled at last. “Perhaps you should rest. I’ll arrange for a meal to be brought up to your room.”

Bea swallowed. She couldn’t stay here, looking at the bed she’d seen Heaven in with Tovar - with Pero.

“I’d like to eat with everyone else. If that is all right with you.”

“That’s my girl. Come down when you’re ready.”

Bea gave him a smile and then let it drop when the door closed behind him.

A few seconds later, Matilda poked her head in. 

“My lady?”

“Come in, Matilda.”

Her maid’s face was suspended in concern. “You are quite well?”

“Yes.” Bea embraced her, breathed in her lavender soap scent. “Thankyou. I’d like to join everyone for breakfast. Perhaps you would see to my appearance?”

** 

Bea sat between William and her father during the meal.

Pero sat four tables away from them, with the other servants, liveried footmen, and such. He picked at his food, simultaneously trying to sneak looks at Bea and also not make it obvious that he was trying to look.

It was exhausting.

Mierda, he’d be lucky to ever get within six feet of her ever again.

He should leave now. Return to Spain. Or, travel this country in search of more work. He would need to leave William, he supposed. But the Irishman seemed settled here, and interested in Bea’s lady’s maid, Matilda.

It would be a good life. William deserved that.

Tovar deserved nothing. He’d been a breath away from stealing Bea’s innocence. In a way, he’d taken some of it already.

But he couldn’t regret that, not for a single heartbeat.

After the meal, none of which he tasted, he wore himself to exhaustion mucking out the stables, patrolling the perimeter, and taking on any menial tasks that needed to be done. He worked harder than he had in months, if not years.

By the end of the day, he opted to take supper with the kitchen staff, to avoid seeing Bea dressed in her finery for dinner.

When he finally dragged his exhausted old bones back to the room he shared with William, the Irishman was waiting there, a smug little smile on his irritatingly handsome face.

“What?” Pero all but snarled.

“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, did we?” William, the little shit, asked.

“If I were you, I would move out of the way, pendejo,” Tovar grunted.

William held out a folded piece of paper. “Even if I have a message for you?”

Interest stirred Tovar out of his mood, and he took the parchment from his friend.

Meet me in the orchard when the moon is up

I need to see you

B

“La hostia,” Pero breathed. “My head will be separated from my fool body if I go. It would be insanity of the highest order.”

William folded his arms. “But you will go. I can see it on your face. And I’m going with you. If it all goes to shit, I’ll say Lady Wolfe asked me to take her on a walk because she couldn’t sleep.”

Pero arched a brow. “You think that will work?”

“Christ, no. But it’s better than the alternative, which is letting her out alone.”

Pero snorted. “Si. When the moon rises, then.”

*** 

Bea waited nervously under the branches of the biggest apple tree. Would he come? Had William given him the note?

Maybe he’d had his fill of her last night. Perhaps he would move on. Had she imagined the softness in his gaze when he’d touched her?

William stood a polite few feet away, hand on his scabbard. Bea trusted the Irishman. He was sweet, kind, funny.

A pity that he did not appeal to her on the level that Tovar did. 

“Princesa.”

Her heart leapt and she turned to catch Pero’s gaze, dark amber under the hood of a grey cloak. “You came!”

She launched herself into his arms and he caught her, and she all but purred in delight at being so close to his warm, broad body.

She had a moment to wonder anxiously if maybe he had tired of her now they had been naked together, but then he buried his face in her hair and murmured, “I missed you, bonita. It is insanity, but it is true.”

Bea lifted her face for his kiss, and for heartbeats that stretched, they got lost in each other.

“Is this all we shall ever have?” Bea whispered into his neck. “Stolen moments under apple trees?”

Pero sighed, stroking small circles with the pad on his thumb on the small of her back. “Were I a better man, I would let you go. But I am not. I am greedy, and I want whatever time I can steal with you, for as long as you will stoop to be with me.”

A crack tore through Bea’s heart. “I am not stooping. You are worth a thousand of spoiled brats like Sir Gareth. I wish there were a way to show my father that.”

They held on to each other, not speaking. Bea listened to the steady thrum of Pero’s heart under her ear.

“My lady. As sorry as I am to interrupt, the guard will be changing soon,” William intoned a few feet away. “We can’t be caught.”

Bea squeezed Pero tight. He returned the hold, as if he was trying to press the memory of her into the lines of his body, and then he cupped her face for a deep, tender kiss.

William snagged her hand and Bea glanced back over her shoulder at the line of her lover, tall and proud and broad, in his black cloak. The moonlight kissed the outline of his figure against the column of the tree. She would have given anything to run away with him, and never have to look back.

----

Tags: @poenariuniverserse @sarahjkl82-blog @thirstworldproblemss @disgruntledspacedad @filthybookworm  @frannyzooey @astroboots @littlemissthistle 

@ourvisiontouchedthesky-blog @unicornsandgliiitter @wigwitch @randomness501 @tardisfangurl @nelba @lisbett168 @holographic-carmen @alienprincesspoop @wildchild1964 @mrsparknuts @idreamofboobear @frankiecatfish @zaniasky @f0rever15elf @thegreenkid @jaime1110 @heatherbel @songsformonkeys @gallowsjoker @becauseisme @missredherring @emeraldbears20 @rawkylove @thestrawberry-thief @gooddaykate @princess-and-pedro @ithinkwehitametaphor @badassbaker @emesispo @wyofabdoms @sketchy-britt @absurdthirst @agirllovespancakes @88dragon06 @soapjay @yoditostan @skdubbs  @polly-djarin @yellowbubblewrap @mstgsmy @magikfanatic @itstheanxietyforme @pedropascalspain @hoeficsreblogged @knittingqueen13 @voteforpedropascal @dornish-queen  @remmyswritings @mrschiltoncat @pedro4ever @radiowallet

@skvatnavle @grogusmum @strawberryperegrine @frankie-catfish-morales @miulola @lokiaddicted  @starlight-starwrites @jazzelsaur @dihra-vesa @weirdowithnobeardo @2clones-1kamino @andiesturgss @mourningbirds1

#pero tovar x ofc #the great wall fic #pero tovar #pedro pascal fanfiction #sorry it's been 84 years

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Liberation (Part 5): Keizo Arashi x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Keizo reveals the apex of his generosity and a rough night of restless sleep can only be solved with quick thinking and even quicker hands. But will you allow it to ease your insomnia?

wc: 1.4k

tw: smut

previous part 🏛 masterlist 🏛 next part

Keizo looks over at you often during dinner, his right hand spooning food into his mouth with his left hovers around your knee. You, however, can barely touch your food.

"Are you not hungry?" Keizo whispers, his eyes flicking to your almost-full plate and your face. The other girls watch you two interact carefully, their eyes sneaking glances when possible. But you're frozen to your seat, not out of fear, but something a little more... innocent. "If you're not hungry, we can--"

"What do you think of the meal?" Ms. Mako wonders, coming out of the kitchen with dessert in her hands. As she sets the fresh pie down on the table, Keizo wipes his mouth dutifully.

"It's wonderful," he begins. "Haven't had a decent meal in a few days..."

"What's it like?" Ann chimes in, her fork tongs hovering over the steamed vegetables. "The assignments you go on, I mean."

"They're..." Keizo pauses, thinking, and his fingers on your leg begin to tap a slight beat. "Adventures, to say the least. The other colonies are odd, but not in a bad way."

As Keizo begins to tell the tale of his most recent exploration, you find yourself listening to him with rapt fascination. The others are also enthralled, perhaps more excited about the tales of other colonists. "We're officers of our own fleet, and I work closely with a group of three others."

"Do the other colonies have selections like we do?" Lisette wonders, pushing a strand of black hair behind her ear.

"I don't know," Keizo states, frowning. "But I'm sure they have some initiative to stabilize the population."

"That's enough questions, ladies," Ms. Mako interjects, slicing the pie with ease. "Let the man eat." The girls giggle, but you're more focused on how Keizo's hand remains on your leg, its warmth seeping through your bones and past your uncertainty.

"Your new home." The statement is punctuated with the engine cutting off, and you sit in the car, staring at the one-story home. "Wanted to bring you here before the rest of the... stuff so you could get a feel for your new place." The house is made of white stucco - the luxurious type of stone reserved for those with money - and boasts large windows. The lawn is lush and green, and a flower bed sits outside the front walkway, inviting you past the dark brown door.

"Come on." Keizo gets out, all smiles as he helps you out of the car with a gentleman-like composure. Your feet walk across the stone pathway up to the house, and when Keizo swings the door open, you find yourself somewhat stunned.

"It's not much compared to the other houses," he begins, waving his tan hand around in the air. "But it's what I could afford. I thought a one-story house would suffice until you decided you wanted something more. By then, I should be making enough money but... Is it... to your liking?" You turn to the man standing in the foyer, his eyes curious.

"It's..." You pause, looking for the word. "It's so different."

"Different," Keizo echoes, nodding slowly. "I take it that means you're not pleased."

"Why would I not be pleased?" you question. Your selector looks away, wringing his hands together like a worried wife.

"I can always purchase something more suited to your tastes," he offers. "I would need to pull out a loan, secure a buyer for the home, move the furniture--" You approach Keizo with care, touching his arm and bringing him out of his rushing thoughts.

"I love it," you whisper. "Thank you." Keizo's shoulders lower at your admission of thanks, and he exhales deeply.

"There are two bedrooms; his and hers," he mentions, walking in that direction. "That way, you can have space when you need it." He opens a door to what appears to be your bedroom. "All yours. I'm just down the hall, too." He points toward the other door, and you follow.

You get the full tour through the house, returning to the foyer as the night draws its starry curtain across the sky. "We should stay the night," you breathe. "I think a few girls are getting visits soon."

"It is almost nine," Keizo adds, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sure we should be okay since... things are progressing." You look down at your stomach, wondering if it has become more prominent in the past few days, then look back up at Keizo. "Should I say goodnight?"

"Yes," you nod, and Keizo gently takes your hand, brushing his lips over your knuckles while holding your gaze.

"Goodnight, y/n. Get some rest."

But even as you settle into your own room, you can't rest. Not with the emptiness so prominent, so obvious. You toss and turn for hours until a whisper of thought comes into your mind, one that begs you to get up and ease your suffering.

And that's how you find yourself stumbling around in the dark, feeling your way toward Keizo's room. You open the door without knocking, sure he'd be asleep, but you find him wide awake, sitting in his bed and typing away at a laptop.

"Keizo?" you whisper, and he looks up, somewhat startled to see you in the doorway.

"What's wrong?" he wonders, setting his device aside and getting out of bed, shirtless. You lose your train of thought as he approaches you, swirls and patterns dancing across taut skin and muscle. But the spell is broken again when he touches your chin with his index finger and thumb. What is going on in my mind?

"Can't sleep."

"Mmm," Keizo hums, then takes your hand, bringing you into his room. You take in the wooden headboard illuminated by the screen's light and the tousled sheets, but you nestle into them anyways, tucked in by Keizo's steady hand.

But even though you're in bed next to someone who is undoubtedly safe, you still can't fall asleep. Keizo seems unphased until you sit up, sighing.

"Am I being too loud?" he asks, but you shake your head.

"I just can't relax," you grumble, frowning.

"I can help with that," he whispers, and you turn to him. "But it would require some... touching." You understand the insinuation and nod, hoping whatever it is will ease you off to sleep. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he murmurs, and you nod again. Firm hands flip you over and go beneath your clothes to touch your back, kneading at sore spots and tight areas with skill.

"Used to need these after long missions," Keizo murmurs. "I would hire the best hands in the colony to ease my problems. They put me to sleep every time." The repeated rubbing and kneading makes you sink into the bed, and you open your mouth to exhale, but a moan escapes. Keizo's hands pause, but you whisper,

"Don't stop." So he keeps going. As they drift down to your lower back, you involuntarily moan again, feeling a pop and a crack here and there. And then you mutter: "Lower." Keizo knows what you mean, his hands dipping around your hips and thighs easily. You don't ask him to stop when his fingers slip past your thighs, and not even when they swipe at your cunt, making you angle your hips up.

You're not sure what keeps you from stopping him, but you don't care. Decorum be damned. Fingers slip into your slit, and your breathy moans are joined by Keizo's, meaning nothing and something all at the same time. Your hips buck, riding his fingers to a release you've never had before but that you're focused on achieving.

The squelching sounds your cunt makes around his fingers are unholy, but you can't stop. You won't stop. Not until you're satisfied. And when you find your release building behind a wall of pressure, you squeeze your eyes shut, dig your hands into sheet-flesh, and let out a guttural groan you've never uttered before.

Light dances behind your lids as you surrender to the feeling, and your body quakes under Keizo's skilled fingers, dropping you into an oblivion-type bliss that sends you straight to the land of the sleeping, Keizo's voice calling out to you from the beyond, like a ghost hoping for some attention.

"...you did so well..." the disembodied voice chants, littering kisses on your flushed cheeks. "Sleep easy, beautiful girl... sleep easy..."

#arashi keizo x reader #keizo arashi x reader #keizo arashi #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #benkei tokyo revengers #benkei x reader #keizo arashi smut #tokyo revengers smut

[archer300pr]

I know this won’t be seen by many people but I wanted to share this little story for a LMK AU I thought of. So if you see this post please enjoy and tell me that you think!

~~~~

Moving quickly towards the village covered ice, The king along with his generals and the warrior, search for multiple things: answers and survivors.

The king searched everywhere with his golden vision for anything, a clue, sign of life an enemy. But found nothing..

“Liu’er, you got anything?” The king asked his warrior as his golden eyes turned back into his dark red eyes.

“I’m on i-“ the warrior froze and looked towards the setting sun “Wukong, I heard a infant and it may be endanger ”

With that The king dashed to where his warrior sight was set. Recalling his golden sight once more he searched and found what he searched for. Three figures two on the ground and one standing above them.

The king bare his fangs and growled at whom he saw above the two lone survivors. Kicking down the wall he stood in between the monster and the mortals.

“Ah so good you’d join us, your majesty” said the monster as his wicked smile grew.

“Cut the chat, Demon…whats your master’s plan?”

“My lady only wishes to extend her kindness to everyone, your majesty…those who do not accept her kindness…will suffer greatly” with that the wicked man disappeared in a puff of white clouds.

The king’s glare went away in exchange of a shock and worried look as he heard gasping from one of the mortals. He knelt down beside the mortal and was about to touched their shoulder until a little hand grabs his sleeve. The king looked at The child, who looked no older than a few months, tears coming from its eyes as he whimpered.

The king looked at the older mortal, a woman, its mother he presumed. She was cold to the touch, a sign the White Bone Demon no doubt. She looked at the king, not knowing who he was, with all her strength, her eyes pleading to the king. “…an…please…take…him” With that her head dropped to her side and released the grip she had on the child. The king gave a moment of silence for her and took the child in his arms.

“Wukong! There you are! Sorry it took so long, I went to get the o- Wukong?” the shadow monkey arrived to the destroyed house and looked at his, who was still facing the now dead woman.

“My King?” One of his generals tried to call upon his king to see if he was safe.

“I’m fine guys…Its just…” it was all that the king said as he turned towards his warrior and generals, holding the baby as if it was his own.

“My king is that a…Human child?” His general Ba asked his king surprised. Not surprised by his king care for the child, the king always takes care of the little Monkeys while their parents are away getting their meals or play with them whenever he had the chance. No, he was surprised on how he hold the child.

“Yes…he can’t be older than a few months..we can’t leave him here We have to take him back to Flower Fruit Mountain”

“WHAT?!” His companions yelled in unison causing the child to cry as he was spooked by it. The King rocked the infant gently as it calmed down.

“I know its a big risk but I just have a feeling that he’ll be in more danger if he goes to a different mortal family” The king explained his worries and his companions looked at each other for any reason to go against their king.

“If he’s just a few months we should look for his things…well the salvageable ones…” the six eared monkey commented as he pointed to a baby bottle trapped in the air by the icy spears.

“He should have some clothes, toys and a bag for those” Beng, one of the kings Generals, spoke causing all of the monkeys to look at him in surprise. “What? I told you watching those mortal shows would come in handy”

“Uh huh? You just like the total drama they create for themselves” Ba teased his fellow General. Everyone snickered and chuckled, including the king.

“Ok ok back to business…Beng, Ba find anything salvageable for the kid; Liu check if there’s anyone else who needs help, if nones left then come back, Ma keep an eye out” The king ordered his generals to their task with a smile

“Yes your majesty!” Said the four Generals as they spread out to do each of their task. The king sighed as he looked towards the woman, firming his grip on the child as a sign of him promising her to keep the infant safe.

“Hey Wukong! I got something…” the shadow monkey called out to the king. The king walked to his six eared friend and saw him with folders and multiple papers. “Seems that the kid didn’t had his name yet…but he’s a few months old, no more than 2”

“No name for the kid? That’s weird”

“Yeah, but I think this could be why…baby names…yeesh look at the name the parents debated on” the shadow monkey showed the name to the king and they both cringed at one of the names.

“Well before you guys came in I heard her say a name but couldn’t tell what it was… could you try to-“the king wasn’t able to finish his question as he saw his warrior’s ears glow light purple. He remained quiet and even cooed the baby when it started to fuss again. The light from the warrior died down and sighed as he held his head.

“Liu’er are you ok? You dizzy?”

“No I’m fine…I got the name though”

The king’s worry did not dwindle but was happy with giving the baby a name.

“Great! What did she call him?”

The monkey told his king the name and He was satisfied with it.

As they concluded their search with only a few items, such as weapons used against the villagers, some baby clothes, toys, baby items, a folder filled to the brim with papers and a human child. On their way to their mountain, Liu stated a very important issue.

“My king, you never told us what was the child’s name”

“Hm? Oh! Right… I was so busy getting us out of there it slipped my mind… sorry”

“Don’t be, My king. So what’s the little prince’s name?”

Little prince? Well if he’s taking care of him then sure.

“Well Thanks to Mac’s ability we were able to get his name…the child’s name is Xiaotian, Qi Xiaotian” the Monkey King says it with a smile as he heard giggles from the boy. “You like that, huh bud?”

“Prince Xiaotian…has a nice ring to it!” Said Ma as Beng nodded.

“yea its better than…the other one” The Six Eared monkey commented as he cringed and the king chuckled.

“Well then welcome to the family little one, we’ll try and do the best we can for you.” The king declared as they arrive the coast of their sweet mountain home.

#lego sun wukong #lego macaque #lego monkie kid #qi xiaotian #lego mk #lmk au

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

(un)Catagorized [ii]

Ishgard The Firmament (post capstone)

------

Fourchenault considered the maidservant's words.

"...And this happened when?" He asked.

"A little bit over three years ago, mi'lord. Four if you want to count this year." The blue-haired woman answered.

"And you're certain of what you saw?"

"Yes! It sticks in my mind even now!" The hyur gestured--her hands fluttering like nervous birds.

"Nobody'd seen hide or hair of them for a year! There were rumors--that they were away--helping other Imperial provinces fight for freedom. Others said they were deep in the Empire itself. You had some lot swearing that they'd gone to the New World!" The woman paused, drawing in a breath.

"But I remember what I saw, and I remember that time. House Fortemps always hires on extra hands for the start of the social season." She began, looking up at Foruchenault.

"I was going to bed--and then all of a sudden, the House Steward comes into the servant's quarters. He goes about--knocking on certain doors, getting people out of bed--and telling them to head up upstairs, and bring blankets, do it all quiet-like and hush hush. I won't lie, I got curious about what was going on. I followed the group out of the house to the chocobo stables--and that's when I saw them."

"Them?" Fourchenault prompted.

"Lady Fortemps, the Bishops, Ser Astralyas--the lot of them. And they looked as if they'd been through all the seven hells! The Lady in particular..." The maid trailed off, shaking her head.

"She was bone thin. Her clothes were hanging off her. She could barely walk. The old count had to scoop her up into his arms. Count Artoirel was helping the older Bishop--and two burly men were carrying the younger Bishop and Ser Astralyas. They covered them up with blankets and hurried them in through the servant's entrance into the main house. Next day we're told that one of the guest-wings is off limits, said there was some sort of accident that needed repair-work."

"And nobody questioned this?" Fourchenault asked.

"There were sommant who got curious, but there wasn't time to question. The Season keeps you busy--but I do know know those same servants were the ones that'd go in and out of that wing with trays full of food and medication for battle-mind. Lots of it."

"Battle-mind?"

"I know what the tisanes and potions for battle-mind look and smell like." The hyur countered. "Cook had their hands full-fixing meals for the visiting nobles--and brewing up those remedies. I heard them curse out the House Steward when he offered to get them help. Said she didn't trust any outsiders not to poison the Lady and her brothers." Fourchenault didn't immediately respond, his mind racing.

"How long did this go on for?"

"A month. One day they just showed up in the main hall--acting as if they'd just come from somewhere. They looked better, but the Lady Fortemps was still on the thin side, and there wasn't any sign of Ser Galedancer." The hyur carefully looked around, and then leaned in closer to Fourchenault.

"There was a rumor going around that he'd gone on pilgrimage to St. Reinette. Nobody saw him until at least a few months later."

"Pilgrimage to St. Reinette?"

"When there's a dragoon...that's got a curse." The maid said slowly. "Used to kill them off, but now they ship them out of the city. Keep them with the Dravanians to calm them down and return them to normal.

"I see." Fourchenault mused. This wasn't the information he'd been looking for, but it was useful. There had been a noticeable gap of at least two months in one of the Scions' reports regarding their initial return from the First. It seemed that the battle with Emet-Selch had been more brutal than Riven and the others had let on.

"Do you remember anything else, anything at all that..." Fourchenault trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase it.

"Anything that sticks out in your mind regarding the Lady Fortemps and her brothers that...just sounded stranger than their norm? If you heard anything, saw anything else?" The hyuran woman frowned, putting a hand to her chest in thought.

"...There's naught much more that I can think of." She said. "But..."

"But?" Fourchenault encouraged.

"Have you gone asking around by the star-seers?" The woman asked. "Rumors were that the Lady Fortemps had quite a lot of business there."

"The astrologians." Fourchenault breathed. "No. I have not. I will make that my next avenue of inquiry." When he could, anyway. For now, he had to leave Ishgard and return to his duties at the Forum.

------

(un)Catagorized [i]

#ffxiv #fourchenault leveilleur #fourchenault gets nosy

[strange-lace]

Soft but Deadly

Idk, it’s a fic about my Monkie Kid OC Almond because I need to put out more content about her. I am tired and I wanted to finish at least one WIP to give myself some enrichment.

Almond was aware that she didn’t look like a fighter at first glance.

She was soft.

Soft face, fluffy hair, nauseatingly pink clothing, the only sharp thing you could immediately notice about her were the fangs constantly peeking out of her mouth. And even then, they looked more cute than threatening.

And a lot of that was on purpose. Almond didn’t want to look scary and she was more than happy to be over-the-top feminine in response. She liked simply being cute.

People were less likely to keep a close eye on you if you looked cute.

It was easier to take people off-guard when you were simply “cute”.

And that’s when you strike them right at the jugular.

MK and his little team were admittedly wary at first, in having her join them in their journey for the weapon to defeat the Lady Bone Demon. As far as any of them knew, she was merely Almond the baker. 

To Mei, she was the grumpy lady that she was always overpaying for her sweets.

To MK, the lady that gave him free cookies after having a long day at work.

To Pigsy, another rival shopkeeper who seemingly tried to steal MK from him as an employee by bribing him with pastries.

And to the Monkey King, a disheveled mess who burst onto the ship after escaping the Bone Demon and her minion and didn’t hesitate to mouth off at the spirit when she showed her face before they made their escape.

A survivor and a scrappy one at that. But Almond was more than happy to remain on the ship while everyone else went out on their adventures, she felt happier providing support in the ways which mattered: nourishment. Because to her, a good warm meal was what made a house into a home which you can return to at the end of the day. A place to heal your wounds and rest the ache in your bones.

That was a service she was happy to provide, welcoming the others back to the ship with hearty food and a first aid kit with her homemade potion remedies. Seeing the tired smiles and looks of relief on their faces as they saw her… it was most definitely an addicting feeling. Perhaps a part of her didn’t want them to lose the perception of her as a nurturing and trustworthy woman.

Someone they didn’t have to put their guard up around, someone they could simply trust with something as valuable as their food, their well-being.

That was a trust she missed having in such an personal and intimate way.

But then Almond inevitably got involved in a fight during a run with the group to restock food supplies and ingredients for the airship. Seems that word of Sun Wukong being in the area had spread and, of course, there were quite a few demons that had a bone to pick with him.

And she supposed that, in their eyes, she was an easy target among the group.

That was their first mistake.

“Almond, look out!” Mei cried out and she whipped around to see a sword being swung straight for her head. Time seemed to slow down for her as hundreds of possibilities of what she could do flashed before her eyes. Some practical, some absolutely foolish.

And she went for the latter out of pure instinct.

Almond lunged forward and bit down on the sword with as much force as possible.

The sound of metal shattering echoed throughout the abandoned inn they had been cornered into by the ambush. Her attacker was frozen in shock to see their sword reduced to shards by her fangs.

She straightened her back before spitting out the shards at the demon’s feet.

“Nice try.”

And Almond punched the demon in their jaw while they were still frozen in shock. They fell flat to the ground, still conscious but looking at her with genuine fear in their eyes.

She made sure to grin with all her fangs.

“You should perhaps leave. Now.” Her sweet voice descended to a hiss, showing it was not a polite suggestion.

The demon was smart enough to take her politely worded threat seriously, quickly vanishing in a puff of golden smoke. Her whole body sagged with relief once she was sure that there were very few possibilities of them coming back.

Ugh. She could feel some shards of their sword still stuck between her teeth.

“Almondohmygodsthatwassocool-” Mei practically tackled her once everyone got over their collective shock, talking a mile a minute. It looked like she didn’t know whether to be excited or worried. Almond couldn’t do much but catch Mei before she fell to the ground, not wanting her to get hurt. There were still metal shards all over the place after all.

“Okay, okay, slow down there, Dragon’s Beard. I’ve had enough chaos for today and I need to floss this garbage out of my teeth, so we. Are. Going. Home.” No one really felt the need to argue that.

It was a miracle that Almond didn’t notice even once that Sun Wukong was staring at her the entire trip back to the airship, confusion in his eyes and a flush dusting his face. The image of her breaking the sword with her teeth kept playing in his head on loop.

Oh.

Oh no.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #monkie kid oc #almond #sun wukong #mei #my writing #fanfic

[the-white-soul]

Master of the meals

"Alright Papyrus I'm finished eating. Hey look in the news."

"What is it human."

"'Due to the untimely death of dearly missed robot someone has taken over the food parlor. This is' oh sh*t."

"Who?"

"'For the last 2 months it has been owned by spider lady.'"

"And?"

"I need to go there imminently."

Muffet sang:

"My band of soaks, my den of dissolutes My dirty jokes, my always pissed as newts My sons of whores (no, no, no, no not tonight) spend their lives in my kitchen Homing spiders homing in They climb through my doors And they crawl out on all eights

Welcome, Monsieur, sit yourself down And meet the best baker in town As for the rest, all of 'em taste: Sbout as bad as all of there butts Seldom do you see Honest girls like me A gent of good intent Who's content to be

Master of the meals, making them with charm Ready with a fork knife and an open palm Tells a saucy tale, makes a little stir Customers appreciate a bon-viveur Glad to do a friend a favor Doesn't cost me to be nice But nothing gets you nothing Everything has got a little price!

Master of the meals, keeper of the rules I'd be fine to sell one of there sou or two Watering the cide, making up the weight Pickin' up their knick-knacks when they can't see straight Everybody loves a baker Everybody's banana's friend I do whatever pleases Jesus! Won't I bleed 'em in the end!

Master of the meals, quick to catch yer eye Never was a bad meal to pass her by Servant to the poor, maker to the great Comforter, philosopher, and lifelong mate! Everybody's boon companion Everybody's chaperone But lock up your valises Jesus! Won't I skin you to the bone!

Food beyond compare. Food beyond belief Mix humans in mincers and pretend it's beef Kidney of a horse, liver of a cat Filling up the sausages with spider that Residents are more than welcome Bridal suite is occupied Reasonable charges Plus some little extras on the side! (Here we go!)

Charge 'em for the lice, extra for the mice Two thousand Gs for looking at my torso twice (Hand it over!) Here a little slice, there a little cut Three thousand G's for eating with the window shut When it comes to fixing prices There are a lot of tricks I knows How it all increases, all them bits and pieces Jesus! It's amazing how it grows!

Master of the meals, quick to catch yer eye Never was a bad meal to pass her by Servant to the poor, maker to the great Comforter, philosopher, and lifelong mate! Everybody's boon companion Everybody's chaperone But lock up your valises Jesus! Won't I skin you to the bone!

Burgerpants:

(Oh, sorry love Must get something done about that) I used to dream that I would meet a princess But God Almighty, have you seen what's happened since?

Master of the meals? Isn't worth my spit! Maker, philosopher and lifelong sh*t! Cunning little brain, regular Voltaire Thinks she's quite a lover but there bosom's as big as mine What a cruel trick of nature landed me with such a screech God knows how I've lasted living with this bastard of the meals!

Master of the meals! Maker and a half! Comforter, philosopher Don't make me laugh! Servant to the poor, butler to the great Maybe I should've tried to inebriate!

Everybody bless the baker! Everybody bless her spouse!

Everybody raise a glass Raise it up the spider's a** Everybody raise a glass to the Master of the Meals!

#undertale #the white soul #muffet #burgerpants #master of the house #les mis #Youtube

[i-rickrolled-my-ankle-help]

Hunger Games: Prims Version

This is a wip I’m almost certainly not going to finish but if tumblr people like it I might write up to the reaping and the reunion (aka I’m holding it hostage until someone tells me they want to see it)

When I wake up Katniss is already long gone, judging by the sun she and Gale are over the fence and deep into the woods by now. I hope she remembered to take the list of plants I need with her. I've been planning tonight’s dinner for almost a week now. It’s hard to put together a nice meal here but I managed to find some jam and sourdough bread. Reaping day isn’t exactly a thing to be celebrated but not having your name pulled from the dome certainly is. It's really the only time outside our birthdays where we can justify splurging a little and I want a thick slice of bread heavy with goat cheese filled with herbs. It’s been a long time since we’ve had more than salt and one or two hearty things I’ve managed to coax into growing in the backyard. Carefully, so as not to wake my mother or Buttercup I bend over and see him still as asleep now as he was when my eyes opened ten minutes ago.

I hate waking up Buttercup. He's a growing boy and he needs as much rest as he can get, but I have things to do before the reaping and there are plenty of other places for him to nap. Or so I tell myself as I gently flex my legs until he finally gets the hint and moves along. I give his head a little scratch and kiss my mother on the forehead before finally getting out of bed. 8 is a late start for us, usually I wake with Katniss and we talk while she gets ready to hunt. I suppose she let me sleep in as I let our mother sleep in.

I feel a little bad about sneaking into our mothers bed the night before one of our names might be pulled from the dome of doom, as some of the older children at school call it. Theoretically I should want to be as close to my sister as possible in case we’re separated but after the third nightmare my need to sleep won. I quickly put on some raggedy but clean old dress and carefully brush out my hair. It looks more gray than blonde with all the coal dust that coats it and I’m glad I’ll be having a bath before the reaping.

I finish the outfit off with a pink ribbon Katniss got me for my birthday last year. It has a grayish hue after living in the cloud of coal that is the seam it’s entire existence but so do the rest of us. I use it to tie my hair up and put it in a bow and begin to sing to myself as I go to milk Lady. Quietly at first but louder the further I get from our bedroom.

“Some people say a man is made out-a mud

12 mans made out of muscle and blood

Muscle and blood and skin and bones

A mind that’s weak and a back that’s strong”

This is one of the few songs I can actually remember dad teaching me. I was maybe 4 but I can still remember his voice if I strain, but especially when I sing this song. For some reason I can only picture it in his voice.

“You move 16 tons, and what do you get?

Another day older and a bit less full

Brother don’t you call me cause I can’t go

I lost my soul digging deeper for coal.”

Gale likes this song. So does Katniss. Apparently it was written before Panem, but the lyrics have changed so much over time that no one knows what they were originally.

“I was born one morning when the sun didn’t shine

They gave me a pick and I walked to in mine

Gave him 16 tons of number 9 coal

All the boss man told me was “go back for more””

It doesn’t fit my voice well. My voice is high and light like the mockingjays while the song is low and heavy like Gales or my fathers. I like it though, I don’t know why. Maybe I like it just because Katniss does, the same way she likes the song Clementine because I do.

“You move 16 tons, and what do you get?

Another day older and a bit less full

Brother don’t you call me cause I can’t go

I lost my soul digging deeper for coal.”

Lady always appreciates a nice song in the morning. I think it makes her milk easier but Katniss says it’s a silly superstition. She chews happily on the grass as I sing to her. Sometimes I wish I was a goat like her or a cat like Buttercup. Not an unwanted stray, I like living under a roof just fine thank you very much, but maybe a spot similar to the one Buttercup holds in my heart. I scratch lady’s chin, maybe if this good behavior keeps up I’ll be able to braid her beard again. That always gets a laugh out of Katniss.

#fanfic #hunger games #fic wip

[sydorax-squid]

The Life Of Jeanne Boulet 

  Jeanne Boulet awoke irritably at sunrise. It was a chilly June morning in Gévaudon and she needed to go out and tend the sheep. She groaned inwardly. Soon, very soon, she would be courted by handsome men and married off and she would never again need to spend her days out in the fields warding off wolves with a stick.

  “I am fourteen,” she told herself as she got dressed for the day. “Girls have been married younger than that.” The young woman looked at herself in a dirty piece of mirror. She gently poked her face, her round cheeks and bright eyes were very fetching and pleasing to see. “So why,” she wondered. “Has no man shown interest?”

  She was disheartened. A pretty lady shouldn’t be out watching sheep all day, every day! She should be in town, catching the eye of strong young men that want families and home-cooked meals. Poor Jeanne Boulet sighed, tying back her long brown hair. Perhaps she could convince her parents that Claude was old enough now to take her place. His ninth birthday was in October, that was close enough.

  Gévaudon was a quiet place, apart from the occasional mauling that was fairly commonplace in rural France. An expected fact of life; death, swift and sudden. But the sheep were precious, they fed and clothed the lucky few who survived the wars, the beasts, the sicknesses and those yet unaffected by the ravages of time. One way or another, death would come. Death was consistent.

  Poor Jeanne Boulet knew all about the inevitability of death; she’d watched it claim her younger sister. Death came in the form of illness without cure, and it ate up her sister from the inside, hollowing her out, whittling her down to naught but bones with cheesecloth skin holding them together. Jeanne Boulet had watched little Maria die, held her skeletal hand as God’s angels took her away to be reunited with the Lord. Jeanne had believed then that God took Maria because He missed her up in Heaven. But that was only the first. The longer Jeanne Boulet lived, the more people she knew were reunited with God, the less that thought seemed to comfort her. She began to wonder why God would send people down here at all if He was just going to take them back after a few years. God was being selfish, thinking only about how much He missed these people and not how much their living friends and family would miss those He took back.

  Jeanne Boulet had grown to dislike this aspect of God. He had taken many of her friends and siblings away, too, as well as her grandparents. She wasn’t so mad about her grandparents. By the time death came for them, they were too old to work; they just ate and slept and took up space. God did them and her family a favor, saving them from prolonged suffering, probably as an apology for what Maria went through a few years prior. Jeanne still loved God; she prayed to Him and spoke to Him often when out alone in the fields. She simply didn’t agree with him on a few things, which was fine. She had noticed that blind, mindless faith was like a pumpkin left on the vine; eventually it will rot and crack and the innards will spill out to be eaten or buried by animals. Stagnation led to death. That’s why God gave them challenges, to save them from wretched stagnation. 

  “He’s challenging me now,” Jeanne Boulet muttered to herself, staring out at the sheep as they grazed peacefully. “Testing my patience. Well, I’m patient enough. You can stop it.” She smiled to herself. Maybe God would reward her unyielding tenacity with a loving, handsome husband! One that would carry her away from Gévaudon and sheep and long lonely days filled with dread. 

  “Do You ever get lonely, Lord?” she inquired, waiting on an answer that never came. “I would think so. You’re unique, peerless. It must be hard, being the only one. Nobody to relate to.” She nodded. “I know what that’s like. I’m lonely, too. But at least I have You.” She looked up into the sky, observing the big flock of fluffy sheep wandering across the blue prairie above her head. She felt a comforting warmth in her bosom at the thought. God was always there, listening and watching. Even if she never found a husband, at least she had the company of God. The idea made her rather happy. God was without death, He was eternal, the one constant in life anyone could turn to for positivity, for love, for comfort. During the worst times; times of war, famine, disease and suffering… He was always there. 

  Jeanne Boulet’s mind wandered by memories of her grandfather. He was always quick to blame misfortune on the Almighty. Everything that went wrong in life was God’s fault, but the little miracles and successes were never equally owed to that same all-powerful deity. Bon-papa never praised or cherished God’s gifts. He was bitter and angry and chose instead to blame all of his problems on a higher power, never taking accountability upon himself. 

  Grand-mére was different. She chose to see the suffering and hardships of life as gifts in their own right. Jeanne could remember her words; “Everything we go through, every blessing and every hurtle is a gift from God that we must cherish. These things shape us, mold us, make us who we are. For better or worse, good or bad, we are the sum of our experiences and every one of those experiences are because of God.” Grand-mére was ancient and wise, if not a burden on the family in her final days, though she was remembered with great fondness.

 Poor Jeanne Boulet saw a sheep had wandered off a bit and she quickly went to bring it back to the bulk of the flock. She sighed, stroking the animal’s thick, warm wool. The animal bayed quietly, walking deep into the billowing fold of it’s fellows. Jeanne found herself longing for a husband again. She wanted a family of her own, she wanted to have a few babies, live in a nice town, in a warm, red-brick house; far from sheep and this solitary life.

  “Am I asking too much?” Jeanne inquired. “I’ll be happy to be married before I turn sixteen. That’s how old Maman was when she married Papa. Maman and Papa are much older now and they had seven children. But it’s just me and Claude left. If I have any hope of having my own children, I must start soon. Please, God, let me have children. I’ll keep tending sheep, I’ll even work in the fields if it means I can have my own family.”

  Bargaining with God; how silly! Jeanne shook her head. No one ever got anywhere that way. She just needed to trust in Him, in His plan for her. But what if what God wanted for her wasn’t what she wanted? How could she just trust that His silent intentions were best for her? She wanted so much to believe as her grandmother had; with her entire heart. But what about asking questions? Jeanne Boulet was young and curious. She naturally had many, many questions that brewed inside her, whirling around in a quizzical tornado, wrecking havoc on her heart. 

  “If only You would talk to me,” she said, upturning her eyes once again to the sky, searching for any little sign of… anything. She sighed, sitting down on the freshly-chewed grass. She lay her staff down across her lap, absently picking at a loose fiber of wood she spotted there.

  One of the sheep looked up, it’s ears twitching nervously. Two more ewes joined the first, their rectangular pupils dilating as they looked around. Jeanne Boulet was busy picking at the wood staff, thinking about what kind of husband she might someday have, about God’s possible intentions for her life, and whether or not God controlled every little detail of everyone’s lives.

  More and more sheep ceased their grazing, their bodies tensing under their woolen coats. Poor Jeanne Boulet was far too deep in thought to notice the warning signs, not before it was terminally too late. 

  The sheep began baying and bleating frantically, stomping and prancing, bumping into each other and then Jeanne. The young woman shot to her feet, looking around the field at the panicking animals, clutching her only means of defense tightly in her hands. The sheep split apart, moving and flowing over the ground like water, revealing just what had upset them.

  Poor, poor Jeanne Boulet. She stood there, alone in the quickly emptying field, faced with something that she couldn’t quite comprehend.

  It was so large. Jeanne had seen wolves before, but this was much bigger than a wolf. The creature in question was the size of a cow, lean in frame with a broad chest. It snarled at her with a wide mouth set in a flattened snout, flashing two-dozen vicious bone-daggers at the fourteen-year-old girl. It shook a dog-like head, the foreign face and pointed ears directed, focused on the unfortunate Jeanne. She noticed the color of the fur; tawny with a black stripe that ran the length of the beast’s spine. A strange color for a wolf.

  Jeanne swung the stick at the enormous monster as it approached, it’s unusually long tail swayed back and forth, a little tuft on the end like some mocking decoration. She shouted at it, swinging the stick again. She stepped back, her foot hit a stone and her body tumbled backward to the ground. She saw the beast leap towards her, revealing a soft white stomach just before it pounced.

  Poor Jeanne Boulet felt the full weight of the cow-sized creature hit her, the many sharp teeth closed around her slender neck. As the needly points sank into her flesh, she wondered if God was still there with her. Was he watching? She felt a very sharp pain, a pull at her throat, then she was staring up at the bloody maw of the monster. 

  She felt cold.

  She tried to speak, to apologize to God for being mad at him. But Jeanne Boulet’s throat was gone, swallowed up by the anomalous creature. She was scared, yes, but not alone.

  God was there with her, as He always had been and forever would remain. He was always there when they needed Him, always.

  Jeanne Boulet closed her eyes.

END

[toastcomb02]

All About Can Dogs Eat Takis? Here's Our Hot Take

Dogs eat anything they may get their paws on. Pets are going to take these littles of bone and consume them after eating them. When a pet dog eats a food he is capable to grow and adjust to brand-new foods when his body system expands. In the canines of today's world you just see a photo of the final day of their life and after that you placed the dog on its back and you're carried out. That's the essence of our food items body. It is your responsibility as a really good proprietor to avoid your dog coming from consuming anything it mustn’t. In the end? You can easilyn't stop the food items if your pet is not supplying that meals to your canine – they will receive unwell. Having said that, you must be aware when it happens to foods that are a major danger to the wellness of the dog. The meals can be stashed properly – as long as it has never been contaminated through the water you are storing it in. Dogs shouldn’t eat Takis at all as it can easily be unhealthy for them. This has to be repaired Right away, and for as long as it takes to get clear of this one, that doesn't matter.". The Daily Mail stated that Mr Cameron has recommended an technique that would observe the cull by 2020 minimized so that even more people live in the regions where cattle happen in to touch, at considerably much less price. Consuming one or two are going ton’t eliminate them but if it comes to be a practice, it can be unsafe. ‬ When a woman becomes expectant it implies that her physical body grows old and the fetus relocates. However, some pregnancy treatments do get rid of children because they come to be sick. ‭ If a lady acquires pregnant and dies, she is forced down a hall or the pathway by a physician who finds out. Some women could also die because of possessing a losing the unborn baby. Permit’s dig deeper into this. When talking about how to play for the American people, a quote is all we are said to on how to play for the Canadian individuals. If Canadians are great sufficient, we'll listen closely in. I believe anyone assuming of participating in for Canada ought to understand that what Americans do in the video game just isn't that great. This is another way the American community observes traits. But I believe they experience the very same technique concerning Canada. Spicy Food Is Hazardous for Dogs Toxic Ingredients No Nutritional Value Too Numerous Calories Sodium Poisoning Dogs Can easilyn’t Try like Humans Human Food versus Dog Food Digestive Health What Can easily Happen to Your Dog? 1. Need to a Pet dog Be Feeded Healthy Food? How A lot Vitamin D Performs the Dog's Health Need? 2. Does Also Lots of Fats Placed Your Pet Under Threat? 3. Can easily A Reliable Source Live at Maximum Weight? 4. You Require More Physical Activity for Your Dog?

Substitutes for Takis What You Ought to Do If Your Dog Consumed Takis Preventive Steps Qualify Your Dog What Ought to Your Dog Consume Last Ideas What Are Takis? What Is Takis? What's A Cane A Dog Is? What If A Pet dog Is Tougher Than You Recognize What A Dogs Dog Tackles Like? Obtain More Exercise Educate Your Pet dog Why The Art Of Being More Stronger Than You Know What A Dog Gives Are There certainly to Be Carried out? Takis are potato chips produced from tortillas and they are widely recognized for their spiciness. They look like a blend of corn tortillas and red meat product, or a mixture of those two. They look incredible along with their crispy, crunchy strips. Some of the most ideal grilled takis for a small residence snack food. Photograph through Melissa Dolan Photography I gotten all the crispy-and-smooth burritos. Simply the right amount and the flavor!

They do not have nutrients and can be high in fats if more than one serving is taken in. When it happens to cooking with veggies, this recipe goes a long way. Prepared vegetables can also enhance your soul health condition risk through lowering the danger for kind 2 diabetic issues. But it's crucial to keep in mind that both of these techniques can possess even more than one result. It isn't just vegetables that are at threat, though. Right here's the review on how different dishes influence your physical body. They are higher in sodium and are strongly processed. This has actually to carry out with how they process. The kidneys possess salt as the salt component, but they mayn't acquire additional than 20% of the sodium in a sample, therefore making the sample much more complicated to pass to the liver. The lesser calcium is, the much more successful the body creates of calcium mineral. Yet another danger factor for renal failure is grow older. More mature kidney stones that result in weakness and/or an incapacity to move muscles are very most usual in youthful guys.

#can dogs eat takis

[bluemoonfantasiesiii]

Lily was listening to Ruby answer all the questions. A bit of pain came to her chest when he said his first meeting with his father was not a happy one, she thought of her own experience and how she met her dad. It was so scary and terrifying to say the least. Tears was gathering in her eyes but she hurriedly wiped them a way before she leaned into the ship's chef for some comfort "dear~, are you sleepy~?" Asked the lady as she pulled the girl in her lap now "yeah~, but I want to see the stars~" she answered to hide her sudden change of emotions and also to get the chance to see the night sky again upon the ship.

"Alright then~, when you finish these two last bites~, I'll take you myself to the ship's surface~" Susu told her with sweet smile and Lily nodded taking the bite that was waiting for her on the spoon in front of her mouth.

The crew was at awe of all the answers "so, is it safe to assume you can swim too?" "Oh wait! Did you get along with the Specters? What do you think of them? They are annoying to be honest, but I would like to know about their point of view, are we being like, outlander to them?" "Of course, you idiot. We do walk in their territories, that why they attack in the first place!" Another member answered that one for Ruby.

The Captain laughed at the whole exchanges as he eat, calm and relaxed before he patted Lily on her head gently "cheer up, sea lady. I bet you will have a fun dream tonight after seeing the sky!" He told her and that got her to smile happily at his words. He did notice the shift in her bright aura and could tell. After all, he did help her Father sneaking her out of that whole mess.

He looked at Ruby and said with big smile "naaah, ignore them now, boy! Eat so you can go and rest from this long day! Tomorrow you can talk with them all you want!" Then he turned to frown at his crew "shut it, you idiots! The boy need to rest at night! You too! Finish your meal, there is another team waiting! Let alone the preparation that needed for the storm passing by night" he told them but more like scolded them and they answered with laughs and nods leaving the boy to breath and eat too.

Vincent chuckled at Nigredo's threat and nodded before he playfully replied "maybe you should feed me~, my son~. After all, my old bones can't hold the fork for long~" he teased back with a chuckle that was barely held back before he took another bite.

Rubedo gave the captain a grateful smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be happy to answer all of your questions tomorrow,” he promised. “Ah, I hope the storm won’t be too bad. Papa might get seasick…”

“Alright, you little smartass,” Nigredo said with a cheeky grin, snatching Vincent’s plate and fork and holding out the next bite for him. “Say ahhh~”

Albedo just shook his head with a small smile as he quietly finished up his small portion and dabbing his face with a napkin.

#moon answers shit #vincent anon #rhinesons au

[motownfiction]

habits

In times of stress, Carrie has always fallen back on the same habits. She bites her nails, drinks too much coffee for damn near every meal, and goes days at a time without washing her hair. All of it makes her feel like shit … makes her feel like her blood is trying to destroy her from the inside out … but it’s like she can’t stop. Her habits are too hard to break.

After Charlie dumps her, Carrie turns to the same old habits again. She doesn’t shake any of those old habits loose, but she does add a new one: sleeping with Sam at every chance.

After the fifth time they meet up (in the morning, at the Doyle house, after Carrie drinks her morning coffee and brushes her teeth in a public restroom), she wonders if she’ll ever be able to stop herself from jumping Sam’s bones. She wonders if maybe this is what she wants, from now on. Forget Charlie, just like he wanted to forget her. Maybe she just wants Sam now. After all, it didn’t take them any time to get good at each other … almost like they knew they’d meet in this very middle eventually. After the fifth time they meet up, Carrie looks at her reflection in Sam’s mirror and wonders if he was inevitable. If he still is.

She turns her head and looks at him, sitting up in bed. In true Sam fashion, he’s messing with the radio on his bedside table. He turns the dial a few times, getting a little more frustrated with every song he rejects, until he accepts one with a sigh that says, “You’ll do.”

Blue-jean baby / L.A. lady / Seamstress for the band …

Carrie laughs a little. She’s been around Sam long enough to know that he only puts up with Elton John. Something about him just never felt all the way right to Sam. Carrie’s not sure she understands, but Sam always understands more than everyone else. It’s like he can see in colors that other humans could never perceive. Carrie admires that about him. Admires more and more about him everyday. He’s probably the smartest person she’s ever met, including Charlie, including herself. And maybe that’s what she needs. Somebody smart who’s not going to be pretentious about it. Somebody smart who knows how to fuck without being embarrassed about it. Maybe that’s the difference.

She rests her head on her shoulder, and he relaxes. It’s only their fifth rendezvous, but Carrie knows what it takes for Sam to breathe … for Sam to smile. He grabs her hand under the covers and squeezes it like they’re really in love. They’re not, of course. But maybe they could be. Maybe it wouldn’t even take long.

“Tell you what, Carrie,” Sam says. “Let’s make this our song.”

“I thought you didn’t like Elton John,” Carrie says.

“I am famously neutral. But this one’s not bad. Especially if it’s ours. So, any time you hear this song, no matter where you are, no matter what happens to you … you’ll have to think about me, right now, at this moment. And I’ll have to think about you.”

“Right now, at this moment?”

“No, I’ll actually be thinking about when you tripped on your way into the house today, but it’s pretty much the same thing.”

Carrie giggles and kisses Sam on the shoulder, which relaxes him even more. A few days ago, Sam told her that he really can feel his whole world on his shoulders.

And I don’t wanna be Atlas, he said. Fuck Ayn Rand, am I right?

Ayn Rand didn’t invent Atlas, Carrie said. But yes, fuck her.

They shared quite a laugh about it, too. Not because it was funny, but because they could have a whole conversation about Objectivism in less than five sentences. Carrie sighs just thinking about it now.

She could never speak like this with Charlie.

So it sucks that she’s still in love with him, when all is said and done.

She leans over and kisses Sam, trying to screw him again. As he takes her up in his arms, “Tiny Dancer” plays on.

Pretty-eyed / Pirate smile / You’ll marry a music man.

Carrie keeps her lips on Sam’s.

#drabble #food #ch: carrie sullivan #ch: sam doyle #ship: tiny dancer #year: 1987 #asks #marshalcoded #thank you!