#those sweet potatoes are the best think i’ve ever tasted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thisislizheather · 1 year

Text

March Magic 2023

Above Photo: Nothing better than this view

I do a million things the month of my birthday and I never regret it. Some people roll their eyes at the phrase “birthday week” or “birthday month” but those people tend to be supremely unhappy and I express my sympathy towards them. Here’s what happened in the birthday month!

The best tweets of the month can be found over here.

I recapped how I did with my winter list of things to do.

I made my new seasonal spring list of things I’d like to do.

Loving the new tomato leaf candle from Trader Joe’s as well as the great new sweet carrot cake from Bath & Body Works.

Above Photo: Tomato leaf candle from Trader Joe’s, March 2023

Above Photo: Sweet carrot cake candle from Bath & Body Works, March 2023

Ice skating in March with friends? Always a good idea.

Above Photo: 75% of us bought skates for this hahahah, it’s called FRIENDSHIP

You know the food blog Grandbaby Cakes? She just put out a new cookbook and the two main things I want to make from it? The salted butterscotch apple whiskey snacking cake as well as the chocolate pecan pie shortbread bars.

If you have a NYC/Queens/Brooklyn library card, are you aware that you can get free tickets to museums all over the city?

I have made this chicken marsala at least three times this month, it might be my favourite way to eat chicken.

Above Photo: Chicken marsala should legally be eaten once a week

I bought this Banana Republic Factory funnel-neck sweater in black as well as white because it legit makes me feel like I have a 401k.

I know zero about coffee, but I’ve done this heating-the-press up method a few times now when I make iced coffee and I think it might taste better when you do it?? Nathan claims there’s no difference, so I might just be argumentative?

In love with the tomato potato chips from Eataly.

Above Photo: Available at Eataly, NYC

Will I ever use this pasta mold from Zara Home - or will I watch it sit on a kitchen shelf each day for twenty years while I yearn to be the type of person who uses a pasta mold?

Love this short article: Want to Lead a Better Life? The Secret Is in the Cemetery.

I had brunch at Quality Eats and the short rib hash was great, but really just inspired me to make it at home.

Above Photo: Short rib hash, Quality Eats

In birthday discount news…

Are you aware that Target gives you a measly 5% off one item on your birthday?! It’s so insulting, I wish they’d just do away with it altogether, it’s pathetic. Why are brands becoming such ingrates when it comes to customer loyalty?

I went to Ulta for my free March birthday gift and they were “out of stock” at TWO locations. And nothing was offered in its place. SWEET.

Milk Bar is supposed to offer some kind of birthday something, but since their loyalty “program” is so new, none of the employees have been taught what the benefits of the program even are. WHAT IS HAPPENING?? (Sidenote: am I the only one who think their cookies suck?)

You know the bra store I love, Journelle? They got rid of their birthday month discount, too! So I guess all these companies have decided that our collective slow march towards death with include ZERO BIRTHDAY PERKS. Cool cool cool.

I tried the crab rangoon March special at Mimi Cheng’s and they were only all right, why is everything disappointing me lately? They weren’t terrible, just too cream-cheesy. While we’re on the topic, on what planet does crab need cheese to accompany it? Seems dumb.

Above Photo: March Special (crab rangoon dumplings), Mimi Cheng’s

I also tried this newish Croatian restaurant in Astoria, Selo, and it was absolutely nothing special. I may have to stop giving such credence to the critics at Eater.

My niece Layla got me an incredible birthday gift - a ticket to Tao of Glass, which the New York Times called “a fantastical and often moving tribute to the composer Philip Glass and the power of art to flow through our lives.” IT WAS SO GOOD. Philip Glass was even there on opening night, which was too exciting and I was floored by the whole evening. God, I love it when someone knows you so well and can arrange the most perfect gift.

Above Photo: March 2023

I bought new jeans after maybe a decade and I can’t be more in love with these ribcage straight ankle Levi’s I got.

Some things I’ve watched:

Tusk: I absolutely hate when American directors talk about Canada in their films, it’s always embarrassing. And jesus, the dialogue in the scene with the girlfriend: has Kevin Smith ever spoke to a girlfriend before? Needless to say, I severely hated the entire movie. I hate torture stuff. Weird that even needs to be said because doesn’t everyone? Johnny Depp was terrible. One of the most originally awful movies I’ve ever seen.

Scream VI: THE WORST SCREAM OF THE ENTIRE SERIES. I vowed not to even see this because I remain #teamneve but Nathan insisted so I begrudgingly went. What a shit show. It was terrible. I’ll never go to another one again, which is a little sad but also fuck everyone involved who thought it was an acceptable idea to move forward without Neve Campbell.

Frantic: I didn’t even know it was a Polanski movie until the end since Harrison Ford was the main draw here. It’s actually a great idea for a movie, but it just trails off midway through so I can understand why no one talks about this movie.

Succession: So I’ve only seen the first few episodes and here’s the thing… it’s legitimately a bad show. The dialogue is so terribly written, I’m actually confused why people praise it so much. NOBODY CALLS THEIR SIBLING SIS. Words can’t express how much I hate the camera work. Shiv’s American accent is wildly bad. I know we’re all desperate for a good show to watch, but the lies need to stop. This is unwatchable.

I’m not sure that I can even speak about it, but I went to a private rehearsal of a play with Michael McKean and good god, I love that man. I met him afterward and he was so kind and lovely, it was unreal. I mean, it’s Mr. Green for god’s sake.

So in love with these new USPS railroad station stamps. I may or may not have made a list of where each station is incase I ever find myself in that city so I can see it in real life.

Above Photo: Can I meet and hug the person who came up with this stamp idea?

I’ve been looking for a real fur coat for a few years now and I finally found her at Exile Vintage in Toronto. It was such a steal because the inner lining was shred, but my mom sewed it all up and it’s absolutely perfect now. So excited to throw out my faux-fur teddy bear coat from Marshalls that every. single. woman. owns.

There was an insane sale at Steve Madden in Soho and I got these new wedge heels for $16. To be clear, that’s $8 PER SHOE.

Above Photo: But can they replace my Terminators? Time will tell.

I saw the new Broadway play Shucked and… yikes. Yes, it was corniness taken to a whole new level, but parts of it were okay. If you love Rodney Dangerfield jokes, then this production was made for you.

Above Photo: March 2023

I also saw Pictures From Home with Nathan Lane and it was slow at first, but really picked up and got good. Love that man.

Above Photo: March 2023

I made a tres leches cake and words cannot describe how heavenly it was. Even if you suffer from dairy issues, I’d recommend that you pound a few Lactaids and eat this immediately.

Above Photo: Tres leche cake

I finally had lunch at Wayan (Jean-Georges’ son’s place) and I can’t wait to return. Best dishes: the corn fritters, the spring rolls (maybe my favourite at any restaurant ever), the lamb kebabs and the chocolate chip cookie with cheddar ice cream. The crab fried rice (which I was most excited for) actually wasn’t anything that special, though.

I had my birthday dinner at The Grill in the Seagram Building (the office building from Scrooged) and it was so great, if not insanely priced. The pasta appetizer was the most incredible thing we ate - they used this crank-type machine table-side to make the broth for the pasta sauce out of MEAT BONES and I can’t stop thinking about it. The other highlight was the gluten-free zucchini cornbread, which was magical. The only downside? Do not get the crab cake - $50+ for the most underwhelming appetizer of your life.

Above Photo: Pasta appetizer, The Grill (a must order)

Above Photo: Vowing to wear more tulle on a daily basis

The Mets promotional giveaways were announced if you care!

Some spring recipes I’d love to make:

Lemony Green Pea Fritters with Cottage Cheese

Banana, Pecan, Coconut and Chocolate Chip Blondies

Cadbury Egg Blondies (I’ve never even made a blondie before, but the urge is strong this season)

Lemon Almond Pudding Cake (love a texturally weird cake)

Carrot Cake Ice Cream (no ice cream maker needed)

Spring Couscous Bowls with Lemon Feta Vinaigrette (I made this last year and it’s spring in a bowl)

Things I’m looking forward to: I visited the insanely gorgeous Kings Theatre in Brooklyn so I’ll do a post about it this week, finally trying the bone marrow gravy at Hawksmoor, I have to get my hands on the Easter Dove Milk Chocolate and Peanut Butter Eggs, I’m trying to get a last minute lottery to see the Phantom of the Opera in its final days, I will find all of the NYC cherry blossoms, seeing the rooftop exhibit when it opens at The Met on the 18th, and finally going on a tour of the old City Hall subway station (this has been a dream of mine for years).

If you’ve got any interest in reading last month’s roundup, you can see what went down in February over here.

Above Photo: Baby Dog witnesses snow, March 2023

#monthly roundup #monthly post #this is liz heather #Liz Heather #March #NYC #Best of NYC #March Activities #what I did in March #things to do #things to do NYC #things to do spring NYC #new york city

0 notes

gay-chef-boyardee · 1 year

Text

MEAT TIER LIST BREAKDOWN

Some facts about me before we start: I have a mild allergy to the seasoning they put on store bought seafood, so I can only eat certain brands. This may affect the final results. I have an Iron deficiency, and crave red meat. This may affect the final results.

S TIER:

Steak: Steak is probably my favorite meat of all time. I don’t think there’s a single moment in my life I ever went ‘hm, I’m not feeling steak right now’. You can cook it any way, and it’ll be delicious. Though personally, my favorite is grilled with a bit of steak sauce. If it’s well done, then you have a perfect stir fry add on. If it’s medium, then you’ve got a good steak! Rare? It’s juicy, and tender! Blue? A risk taker, I see, though you have good taste. And the best part about steak is undoubtably the juice it leaves. When you’ve finished your steak, you have a whole plate of tasty red juice you can put on baked potatoes, mashed potatoes, broccoli, or eat by itself! I love steak. 10/10

Crab: I grew up on the beach, so I’ve been eating freshly caught crab since I was little. I used to make my parents cut the eyes off the crab before I cracked it open with a hammer because it made me feel bad to see it looking at me, but now that I look back on it that makes me feel worse?? Anyways, most of the crab is pretty meh, but woah, that hidden meat. It’s the tiny bit of meat at the butt end of the crab, right under the gills, and it’s fucking godly. It’s sweet, and savory, and amazing. Don’t just go out and buy it from the store, you have to eat it freshly boiled to really experience the hidden meat. I believe it’s normally called jumbo lump, but I always called it hidden meat. Anyways, eating crab is an experience you should have in your life time. 9/10

Shrimp: I. Fucking. Love. SHRIMP. I love shrimp. I love how fun they are to eat, I love their stupid little crust you have to eat around, I love them. Buy a ring from the grocery store (I’m allergic to the bag kind), pop em’ in some hot water to melt the ice, and eat up. They’re amazing. Any time I’ve had a new food I love, and didn’t know what was in it, it always ended up being shrimp. Unfortunately, a point is deducted for being bugs and having the legs that make me squimish. 8/10

A TIER:

Brotwursts: Brotwursts are just better sausages. They’re big, enough for a whole meal on their own, and they always cook up nice. Also, whenever I eat them, I hear ‘Doofenshmirtz quality brotwursts’ jingle in my mind. 7/10

Chicken: It’s chicken. Everyone’s had chicken. It ranges in quality, but it’s never bad. You know what chicken tastes like, and chicken is A tier. 7/10

Filet Mignon: I’m gonna be honest, I’m not a fan of filet mignon. I always buy it on special occasions because it’s expensive and it feels good to ball out (by ball out I mean spend twenty dollars on a steak), but it’s just mid. It has a noticably different flavor than a standard ribeye or new york strip, but it’s just… eh. It’s more tender, but it’s lacks that oomph that other steaks have. I feel like if I drank wine with it and pretended I was eating out, then it would be better, but wine gives me headaches. 6/10

Mushrooms: I like mushrooms. Stuffed mushrooms, breaded mushrooms, they’re all good. My standard way of cooking them is with salt and pepper and a bit of worcestershire sauce. They’re a good side, especially with steak, but they could never be their own meal. I haven’t had mushrooms such as the chicken of the woods or the giant puffball like I’ve seen reccomended in foraging circles, only the grocery store white kind and some porterbellas I wasn’t a fan of, but I’ll update this when I do finally get my hands on some. 7/10

B TIER:

Hamburger: I like hamburgers. Granted, my standard order is only two buns and a patty, maybe with some cheese if I’m feeling frisky. I’ve never had a homemade patty that I really enjoyed, though. They’re always either oozing juice or burnt to a crisp. And while there is an argument for both of those, I don’t want to take a bit of my burger and have a tsunami hit the back of my throat. 6/10

Ham: When most people cook ham, they always either make a honey glazed, or an unseasoned ham. While honey glazed is good, It’s a bit too sweet for my taste, and unseasoned is boring. But! I do love deli meat ham. Paper thin slices off the bone ham is to die for, I buy like three or four pounds at a time just because I know I’m going to end up eating entire bags in one sitting. 6/10

Salmon: I’m not a salmon fan yet. Every time I eat salmon, I start to like it a little bit more. It’s got a very refreshing taste, but my favorite is with a bit of lemon juice. And by a bit I mean a lot. Girly is SOAKED when I finally get a forkful. I also like how it just pulls apart, it makes my lizard brain happy especially since cutting the food is the worst part of a meal. Someday salmon will be up there, but right now, it’s just okay. 5/10

Salami: Salami tastes pretty good. It’s a nice type of sausage, and I like to eat it as a snack, but my beef is with PEPPERONI. I always eat too much and it makes my mouth hurt because I’m a wimp with no spice tolerance :( 6/10

C TIER:

Chicken Patty: I’m going to count chicken nuggets for this one as well. Chicken burgers are okay, not great by any means, but fine. Chicken nuggets are also really good. But you eat so many of them and they stop tasting like chicken anymore, and start tasting like hunger. I’m pretty sure I’m 50% chicken nugget at this point, and I don’t even know if I like them. 5/10

Lobster: If someone unsuccesfully tried to fuse crab and shrimp. I had it once at a club and I genuinely can’t place a single adjective to describe it’s taste. Like, I’d eat it if I was hungry enough, but it also made me throw up on the way home. 4/10

Pork Chop: I hate pork chops, straight up. I actually went pork free for a while because of a bad experience with a pork chop, but I said it was for a diet cause I’m a fake ass little bitch like that. It’s always either dry or juicy, and neither works for it. The fat doesn’t cook off, and it just makes me sad. I’ve never had a good pork chop, and probably never will, but at least it’s not the worst form of pork. 4/10

Rib: Okay, imagine with me. You’re in a really loud restaurant with your parents as a teenager, and your ears hurt and you’re tired and the lights are too bright, and nothing on the menu looks good. Eventually, a waitress comes up to you, and asks what your table wants. Everyone places their orders, and when she finally gets to you, you stumble through thoughts and just say ‘the ribs’. Half an hour later, your ribs get there and you cry. Because this night just got worse. They’re either dry (a common symptom of meat on this list), or slathered in sauce. Pray it’s not the latter, or else you’ll end up running to the bathroom to wash a metric fuckton of sauce off your mouth and hands and neck that leaves you with a rash for days. After fiddling with how to hold your rack of ribs, you finally take a bite and… it’s fucking mid. It’s mid. It tastes like pork pretending to be steak. It hurts to eat, because you have to unhinge your jaw around the bone and nibble bits of meat off, and you end up absolutely stuffed after just two of the four. 4/10

D TIER:

Bacon: Bacon sucks. It’s the unhealthiest part of the pig, for one. And for another, it’s not even tasty. It tastes like grease. If you cook it for too long, it’s crumbly. If you don’t cook it long enough, it’s flimsy. If you somehow manage to time it to the microsecond and cook it perfectly, congrats! It’s still fucking shit. It tastes disapointing, and that is the worst crime. 3/10

Bologna: Be honest, have you ever enjoyed bologna? We all had the same pack in the fridge when we were kids, yellow backdrop and all. And there was always that one kid who for some reason wreaked of bologna?? It’s not even a strong smelling food like dude how did you end up like that??? Deli ham is superior. 2/10

Turkey: Why do we celebrate thanksgiving with a turkey. It sucks. It feels like a sad food. Even if it’s not the breast, even deli turkey sucks. You can taste the poor living conditions of the bird. 3/10

F TIER:

Hotdogs: Everyone looks at hotdogs in the store and thinks ‘wow hotdogs yum’, and they buy a pack, and when they get home, it’s always upsetting. It tastes like what’s in it, be it boiled steamed or fried, pig heart and cow liver. 2/10

Spam: Meat should not come in a can meat should not come in a can meat should not come in a can meat should 1/10

0 notes

millierockanyblock · 3 years

Text

seitan chick’n, japanese yellow sweet potatoes and kale.

#those sweet potatoes are the best think i’ve ever tasted #gods creation #food #good food #vegan #what vegans eat #what vegans cook #plant based #home cooked meal #home cooked #home cooking #seitan #vegan meat #vegan meals #vegan meal

8 notes · View notes

julek · 3 years

Text

my kingdom for a kiss (upon your shoulder)

read on ao3 | rated T | 6.2K | no warnings | for @asweetprologue <3

The sun shines soft in Toussaint.

Geralt can’t remember whether it’s always been like that — if the golden tint that falls over the city as gently as wind-blown petals is genuine or just a product of his imagination. Spring isn’t in full bloom yet, timid flowers peeking at him from the side of the road, proud birds carrying twigs and feathers to their newly-made nests, the tree branches still cold after the last snow.

They’re not far from the main square, their pace steady and unhurried since they set out to Beauclair in the morning. The midday commotion fills Geralt’s senses, spices and bread and frantic conversations making him shake his head in discomfort — busy cities always take a while to grow used to; thankfully, he never stays long.

Next to him, Jaskier sneezes.

“This weather, I tell you—” he starts, but gets immediately cut off by another dainty, kitten-like sneeze. He wipes his nose on his sleeve, then makes a face at it. “Be the death of me.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “It’ll take more than pollen to take you, I fear.”

“It doesn’t stand a chance against me,” he says, and strikes a pose, like one of the heroes in the silly novels he insists on buying, but the puffy eyes and red nose dampens it a bit. He doesn’t seem deterred, though. “Besides, I wouldn’t let pollen, of all things, keep me from performing at tonight’s ball.”

Geralt hums, flicking a fly off Roach’s mane. They were in Spalla when Jaskier was approached by a passing servant and asked to partake in some baron Geralt couldn’t care enough to retain the name of’s early spring ball — naturally, Jaskier had jumped at the invitation, eager to be among the distinguished crowds that frequent such events, even more so after a long winter tucked away at Oxenfurt.

“By the way,” Jaskier says, picking an inexistent piece of lint off his doublet, aiming for casual even though he knows Geralt can hear the curious lilt to his voice, “will you be attending tonight?”

“I might not make it in time,” he says truthfully. He rubs his thumb over the contract he’s holding in his free hand, the sharp edges digging into his skin. “I will hunt this afternoon.”

Jaskier nods. “Well,” he says, his voice soft as he bumps his shoulder against Geralt’s. “You’re welcome there. I’ll vouch for you, you know.”

Geralt smiles at him solemnly — then bumps him back, laughing when the bard accidentally crashes into an old woman perusing the wares of a silver-tongued merchant.

“Geralt!” Jaskier says indignantly, smoothing out his doublet and shooting the woman a sideways glance that’s more annoyed than apologetic. “You can’t just push people.”

“Apologies,” Geralt says, not sounding sorry at all. “My balance seems to be off, lately. You know how it is.”

“With your old age, yes,” Jaskier says and pats his arm sympathetically. “I fear you’re showing signs of decay already.”

“Hmm?”

“Oh, yes.” Jaskier takes his arm and loops it through his, a steadying hand at his back. “Your gait is off— look, even Roach looks concerned for your wellbeing.”

Roach looks unfazed.

“And all the lines on your face!” Jaskier gasps in mock-horror. “My, Geralt, we should take you to a healer. Perhaps you’ve been cursed— There! Those dreadful frown lines you sport, old friend… Have you considered retirement? I hear there are great Witcher-friendly settlements in this area, and— hey!”

Geralt smirks as Jaskier rubs the side of his head where Geralt’s innocent and weary hand slapped it. He can see the worn-down sign of the inn he favors when they’re in the city a few steps ahead, can already taste the fresh ale on his mouth.

“Whoops,” he says, trying to school his features into something that isn’t a smug smile. “Seems I’m losing control of my limbs, too.”

The Rose and Thorn is as it has ever been. Clean wooden floorboards that creak as they walk in, the blossoming vine hanging over the kitchen door, the innkeeper’s old dog napping in a spot of sunlight pouring in through the window.

It’s good.

Geralt likes routine. He thrives on it. He likes familiar faces and comforting smells and the sound of pans and pots banging together as the cook murmurs a string of expletives that would be considered indecorous on a lady’s mouth. He likes knowing where he stands, likes the well-loved booths and the tankards that are cracked around the edges, the face of an unruly lion faded on the ceramic. He’s pleased with the way the innkeeper’s eyes crinkle with recognition as she nods at him and Jaskier, as she wordlessly takes his coin and points her head in direction of the room he always takes.

They move upstairs, Jaskier’s lutecase hitting the narrow walls as Geralt pushes the door open. The room is simple — two beds and a small table under the tall window, light pouring in through the thin linen curtains. He sets his bag on one of the beds — the closest to the door — and puts his sheathed swords next to it before allowing himself a moment to sit and wind down.

“I’d say lunch is in order, don’t you think?” Jaskier says after a while, even though his words are muffled by the pillow he’d thrown himself face-down onto and he doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon. “I’m aching for something other than apples and jerky, if I’m honest.”

Geralt’s stomach rumbles in agreement. “Too coarse for your fine palate, bard?” He teases.

“Never,” Jaskier says, lifting an accusatory finger at where he supposes Geralt is sitting. Then, because it isn’t as dramatic as it should’ve been, he rolls over, facing Geralt, his hair sticking up at odd places and his face flushed a pretty shade of pink. “I’m well used to all kinds of provisions, but the soul wishes for something a little bit more substantial every once in a while.”

“Hmm,” Geralt concedes. He laces up his left boot tighter than the right one and stands. “Let’s go, then, man of substance.”

Jaskier grins up at him, bright and easy, and leaps out of the bed so fast the wind gets knocked out of him.

Downstairs at the bar, there are steaming bowls of pottage being sent to the patrons that are starting to overflow the room, bread and cheese abundant at every table. It must have been a fruitful winter, Geralt reasons as he nods to the barmaid and gestures to the plates.

“Ale as well, Sir Witcher?” She says as she wipes her forehead, no trace of fear in her voice. She’s probably too busy for it.

“Two, please.”

He makes his way to the table where Jaskier’s already tearing a loaf of bread in two, tapping a rhythm with his fingers on the hard wood as he looks out the window at the passersby. There’s a neatly-made arrangement of wildflowers on the wall by his side, larkspur and thistle with a touch of baby’s breath, Geralt thinks.

“Here,” he says, passing the half-full tankard over to Jaskier and taking a sip of his own.

Jaskier hands him a piece of bread. “So, what are we slaying today?”

“The only thing you’ll be slaying today is your audience’s eardrums,” Geralt says, smirking at Jaskier’s huff of indignation. He takes a bite out of the bread. “There seems to be an archespore around the vineyards.”

“An— the—” Jaskier’s face does a complicated thing and Geralt wants to point out that he looks like a gaping trout before he says, “An archespore?! This mythical— magical— never before seen creature—”

“It’s been seen plenty of times,” Geralt points out.

“Not by me!” Jaskier thumps his fist on the table, defeated, and his ale sloshes dangerously. He wipes a hand down his face. “Ugh. And I can’t even fight you on it, because I’ve got, uh, what do they call it— Geralt, help me out here, what’s the word—”

“A compromise.”

Jaskier gags. “Yes. That. I shall honor my, uh, compromise to the arts and leave you alone and defenseless before such a legendary creature. Naught but two swords and the strength of” —he looks Geralt up and down appreciatively— “roughly twelve men built like bulls to keep yourself out of harm’s way.”

Geralt lifts his eyebrows, unimpressed, and leans back on his seat as a barmaid approaches them with a bowl in each hand. “Thank you,” he tells her, and digs in.

The stew is pleasantly hot and thick with spices and vegetables, the potatoes sweet and the meat tender, and he lets a pleased rumble escape his chest.

He doesn’t get to indulge in good meals very often — when he gets the opportunity to sit down at a proper table and have a proper plate placed in front of him, the food is usually sizable and filling, but never particularly appetizing. It’s mostly overcooked, tough meat — if he can afford it — and out-of-season vegetables that remind him of dried-out fields rather than a lavish banquet.

Jaskier is used to them, though. Or was — right before he was hit on the head with a chunk of stale bread and had the brilliant idea to trail after a Witcher, to trade comfortable beds and roasted pheasants for a hard bedroll spread on the forest floor and charred squirrel, at best. It still intrigues Geralt, watching Jaskier roll up his sleeves and dig into the pottage like it’s the finest meal he’s ever tasted, like it doesn’t pale in comparison to what he’ll be served tonight. Like he doesn’t see it — the immensity of the gap between Geralt’s world and his own.

There are moments of hesitation — moments when Geralt thinks Jaskier will wake up. When he thinks the bard will look around and shake his head in astonished confusion, and his blue eyes will widen comically like they do when he’s caught slipping treats to Roach, and he’ll see through the desperately-sewn seams of Geralt’s life. He’ll see that behind the so-called heroics and martyrdom there’s nothing more than a Witcher and a horse and a lonely road ahead.

But then, just when Geralt’s doubts start to creep into his hairline and show on his face, Jaskier will prove him wrong. Like now, as Jaskier lets his spoon fall into his empty bowl and leans back on his seat, sighing happily, nothing but contentment and warmth on his scent. As he watches through the window again, with a smile that dimples his cheek and sunlight crinkling his eyes.

Geralt feels something touch his leg. When he looks down, the innkeeper’s dog is resting his chin on Geralt’s thigh, his eyes big and pleading.

He picks up a hard bit of bread Jaskier had set aside earlier and carefully brings it up to the dog’s nose for inspection. After a few curious sniffs, the dog gently takes it out of Geralt’s hand, tail wagging excitedly. His fur is soft where Geralt smoothes it out with the flat of his palm, softer than Roach’s mane.

When he looks up, Jaskier’s eyes have abandoned the window, and he’s watching the two of them with a smile that’s half fond, half soft. Too tender.

Geralt’s never been looked at like that. With care. Like he’s something precious, something to be treasured.

It feels inadequate, and he pats the dog’s head to hide the almost imperceptible tremble of his hand. Jaskier’s smile reaches his eyes, and doesn’t waver.

It’s good.

The soft breeze wafting through the window as Geralt straps his swords to his back is tempting.

Jaskier yawns.

“You sure you don’t wanna get a nap in before you,” he yawns again, “go?”

He’s sprawled on his bed in a position that just can’t be comfortable, limbs long and bent at weird angles, pants unbuttoned and doublet resting on the back of a chair. His hair is ruffled and his cheeks are pink from the meal and the impending sleep that will follow.

“I’ve read, somewhere,” he continues, forcefully wrestling with the blankets that are firmly tucked into the bed, “ah, that napping increases, um— aha!” He wiggles under the covers. “It increases your strength, sharpens your” — a yawn — “mind, and whatnot.”

“Hmm.” Geralt adjusts his potion belt. “And how’s that worked out for you?”

Jaskier squints at him, managing to stay awake just to be annoyed. “See? You just continue proving my point! That,” he says, gesturing vaguely at Geralt with a half-covered hand, “would easily be fixed with one tiny nap!”

“Your naps are never tiny.”

“Well, no, because as a bard, I require more energy than a Witcher. Besides,” he says, closing his eyes, “I never seem to get enough sleep, you see, since I keep getting assaulted by this beast of a man who thinks dawn is already late.”

Geralt snorts and walks over to his bed. “Should put a contract out, then. A Witcher may come across it.”

Jaskier turns around, facing Geralt. “Oh, no, thank you. One Witcher is enough for me.” Geralt can hear the smile in his voice, though.

Checking he’s got everything he needs, and closing the open windows for good measure, Geralt turns to Jaskier. “I’m going. Stay here.”

This time, it’s Jaskier who has to snort. “Napping, remember?”

Geralt hums. “Don’t sleep through your performance,” he says, closing the door behind him, and the sounds of Jaskier tossing and turning while making indignant sounds makes him smirk.

The walk to the vineyard doesn’t take long. He passes the district alderman’s house on his way over, discusses the payment and whatever information he has to offer about the vineyard itself and the archespore sightings. The man’s face goes white when Geralt asks about any late violent crime.

The sun is still high in the sky when he gets to the heart of the vineyard, the earth uneven and freshly dug up. The victims’ bodies aren’t there anymore, he knows, but the archespore can’t be too far away from him. He draws out his sword and walks deeper into the field, watching the ripe grapevine sway with the wind.

There’s a vine in particular that calls his attention, thinner and bare, no grapes clinging to it. Just as he gets closer to it, it disappears under the ground. Geralt crouches and backs away, waiting to see it come back up — except when it does, it’s not just a lonely vine anymore.

The archespore stands tall and imposing, growling at Geralt as he signs Igni at it and aims for its trunk — he only gets one good blow before it buries itself under the earth. He waits again, looking for the green-brown color, and it shoots back up with renewed force, surrounding Geralt with acid-filled pods.

He casts a quick Quen and gets closer to it, choosing Aard this time as Igni causes it to relocate, and seizes the way it trembles minutely to get behind it and run his sword through its flesh. The creature growls, its jaw-shaped leaves curling around Geralt’s limbs. He struggles and manages to cast Igni at it, freeing himself as the plant relocates itself. When it sprouts back up, one of its pods blows up next to him, making him fall to the ground as the creature towers over him, its screeches deafening.

The archespore opens its forked mouth and screeches louder this time, acid shooting through its pores before Geralt can shield himself. The acid burns his skin where it reaches it, but the creature seems satisfied enough that it misses the opportunity to pin him to the ground. He reaches for his sword and lunges, casting Aard and tearing its leaves and damaging its thick stem.

This time, when it goes underground, Geralt has a feral smile on his face as he takes his Golden Oriole and upends it in his mouth. The venom stops burning for a second, and, when the archespore comes back up, its tendrils reaching for Geralt, he ducks and rolls, positioning himself behind it. The archespore screeches one final time as Geralt runs his sword from its head down to its core before it collapses to the ground, lifeless body still twitching. Geralt throws the severed head far enough that it won’t be able to reattach itself and slices up the remaining pods, their venom oozing sluggishly onto the torn-up ground.

He makes his way back to the city, the head of the archespore dripping slightly from its bag. The sun is setting, painting the walls golden against the pink sky, the shadows cast over the buildings helping the buzzing in his brain. He takes the less-traveled roads to avoid the commotion of the streets, but it seems the city is already mellowed out.

He thinks of Jaskier.

The first star of the night is twinkling against the pink-blue sky, the moon translucent. The baron’s residence is distant, surrounded by a stretch of the city’s walls, but Geralt imagines it’s close, close enough that Jaskier’s voice can carry through the night — that his soft melodies can reach them all.

He thinks of Jaskier, dressed up in his finest clothes that he had especially tailored — because I’ve filled out in the winter, Geralt! — drinking sweet wine from the vineyard he’s just left behind, mingling with the nobles and regaling them with honeyed tales of the Witcher’s heroism. The Witcher who is currently covered in muck and sticky with dried acid, carrying a severed head across the streets of Beauclair.

But Jaskier would disagree. He’d see a knight in shining armor, coming home triumphant after saving a family’s livelihood, the scars of the ferocious battle showing on his face. A defeated beast and a courageous warrior. A tale worth telling.

After dispatching the head and collecting his coin — what they’d agreed on, thankfully — Geralt heads back to the inn. The humming in his veins has simmered down, leaving behind a hint of exhaustion that clings to his bones and makes itself known. He calls for a bath, ignoring the innkeeper’s knowing look — she’s seen him trudge inside wearing worse.

Once he’s in his room, he takes his time unbuckling and sets his armor aside, a filthy pile that he’ll have to tend to eventually. After, he thinks, and sinks into the steaming tub. The room’s windows are open despite him closing them before leaving, tacit proof of Jaskier’s aversion for closed spaces and feeling oppressed, Witcher, and his distinct lack of self-preservation. Geralt’s chastised him enough about being easy prey, but there’s something in the way the bard moves that makes him want to protect, rather than prevent — he’d rather be the one to free Jaskier from his cage than be the one to lock him there in the first place. Not that Jaskier would ever let himself be locked away — he’s feisty enough on his own — but something about him screams freedom.

Geralt can’t take it away — wouldn’t ever want to. So he lets the cool air enter the room.

His bed is neatly made, pillows fluffed and sheets crisp. Next to it is Jaskier’s — somehow, pillows are on the floor and the sheets are turned inside out, twisted like a serpent around the blanket. His side of the room looks like it’s been a victim of a cruel whirlwind — clothes and accessories are strung about the room, picked up only to be frowned at and then put back down.

It’s tempting enough; to crawl under the covers and blow out the candles and get a half-decent night of sleep. Maybe get something to eat from the bar downstairs. Maybe drink some ale. But—

I’ll vouch for you, you know.

He knows.

It’s a beautiful night, in truth.

The ball is being hosted in the halfmoon-shaped garden, the cool spring breeze dancing around the guests as they dance themselves, carried away. Moonlight and candlelight alike wash over the cobblestone, a few delicate and intricate paper lanterns placed over a wooden railing casting gentle shadows on the whole scene. There are flowers all around — on tall vases in every corner and on the small centerpieces at every table, on the open hand of every statue and weaved into delicate crowns for everyone to wear.

It isn’t like anything Geralt’s seen before. He’s been to many balls — begrudgingly — but never one in which everyone carries themselves so freely, where raucous laughter is allowed if not mandatory, where not one person sits alone at their table, instead gathered around savoring the food, where there are chairs but no one sitting on them because they’re so busy prancing around the yard, marveling at the flowers and the outfits and the beauty of the night. Where everyone seems to be there because they want to be — because they belong.

He’s standing by a pillar, not hidden but not in plain sight, either. He tightens his jacket around himself, half to fend off the chill of the night air and half to hide the stain on the chemise underneath — a dangerous encounter with a drunk Jaskier and a goblet of wine. His leather band is on his wrist tonight, his silver hair tickling the spot behind his ear and catching on the high collar of his shirt. People are still coming in through the garden gates, the path to the grounds lit by small candles by each side of it, couples strolling hand-in-hand across the grounds and children running around, their flower crowns hanging off their heads.

There’s no music yet, just conversation carrying the night away. He can hear Jaskier’s heartbeat somewhere in the gardens, but hasn’t seen him yet — perhaps he’s encountered one of his old dalliances and is catching up, as he’s often done before.

Geralt moves to the balcony with the stone railing, the one looking out to the lake. The waves are calm tonight, gently rippling back and forth, shimmering under the stars. He leans his elbows on the railing, feeling very small as he looks down.

Heights used to scare him when he was a child. It’s one of the only things he can remember. His house sat on a small hill, and every night, after his mother went to sleep, he would tiptoe across the kitchen and open the window, and he would look down and feel terror beat inside his chest, gripping his heart like a vine.

Now, as he looks down, he can see the scrape of the stones jutting out of the earth, the clear beach beneath him. He can see the boats resting on the shore and the stars reflecting on the water. Looking down, he just feels at ease.

The sound of children protesting catches his attention. When he looks back to the courtyard, he can see two small children — siblings, he presumes — looking at their mother with very exaggerated frowns on their tiny faces.

“You mustn’t use your sister’s dress as a cleaning rag, Petyr,” she says to the boy as she tries to wipe down the girl’s gown.

“But the floors here needed cleaning!” Petyr responds, petulant. “You told us things should be squeaky-clean.”

His mother is about to reply when suddenly a voice cuts in. “And your mother is right, of course,” says Jaskier, winking at her and meeting her smile of relief with one of his own. “But this is a party! You’re meant to have fun, you and your sister! Don’t you like to dance?”

Petyr and his sister shake their heads. “We don’t know how to,” she admits.

Jaskier’s grin is wide. “Well, then you must be born singers!” At that, the girl smiles.

“Mama says our singing sounds more like a dying wyvern’s last breath,” she says simply, and it makes Jaskier laugh, “but we like to sing anyway.”

“And you should! Singing is the way our soul gets to have a laugh,” he says knowingly, and slowly takes his lute out of his case. “I don’t suppose you know what this is?”

The children’s eyes light up. “A lute!”

Jaskier laughs. “That’s right!” He holds it out to them. “Here, try a strum.”

The children look at each other, then at the lute like it’s something precious. Geralt knows it is. “You go first, Fiona,” the boy whispers to his sister.

Fiona approaches the lute carefully, and holds out her little hand. Jaskier takes it on his own, then gently, very gently, he runs her hand through the strings. It’s a simple chord, and Jaskier’s holding the note, but Fiona looks blown away. “Wow,” she whispers. “It’s so… pretty.”

Geralt can see the way Jaskier’s mouth quirks up and his eyes go soft at the corners. It tugs at his heartstrings.

“Now,” Jaskier says, “Do you want to try, Petyr?”

The boy nods, coming forward. He knows what to do, having watched his sister, so he simply lifts his hand and strums. Jaskier’s changed the chord, a lower one now.

“Wonderful!” Jaskier exclaims, and applauds the both of them, making their cheeks flush. “Naturals, the both of you.”

Petyr’s hand is still on the lute, feeling the strings and reaching the pegs. “And what do these do?” He says just as he turns one of them, the string deflating slightly.

Geralt wants to laugh at Jaskier’s pained grimace as he tightens the string back as he explains to Petyr that he should leave those to the adults, but suddenly he feels a pool of warmth in his stomach, an ache in his chest he hasn’t felt before — as if all the spring’s air has been stolen from him.

He watches Jaskier play a silly little ditty for the children to dance with their very amused mother, and he can’t look away. Can’t stop staring at the way Jaskier’s eyes crinkle with joy and his face is full of laugh lines and his own flower crown threatens to fall down, small yellow petals gathering at his feet.

And the thing is — he knows Jaskier. He knows he’s kind, and thoughtful, and painfully honest. He knows he feels everyone’s pain as his own, everyone’s joy as his own.

Everyone’s love as his own.

He knows that he’ll play silly made-up songs for bored children just as he knows he’ll gather herbs for Geralt’s potions without being asked to, just as he’ll buy treats for Roach, just as he’ll carefully avoid the fork on the road to Blaviken.

He sees it, now — the way his face is lit up but not from candlelight but from within, because he’s so in love with the world that he can barely stand it.

And he’s seen him before — has watched his furrowed brow illuminated by wavering candles as he writes well past dusk, has seen the curl of his mouth and the freckles on his nose and the scar that goes through his left eyebrow and yet—

Yet it feels like he’s seeing him for the first time.

There’s a smudge of ink on Jaskier’s cheek. There always is. There always has been.

Geralt’s never wanted to wipe it off.

He wants to wipe it off, wants to tuck his hair back behind his ear and kiss the spot where his jaw meets his neck. He wants to hold him close to his chest tight enough that maybe he’ll crawl into his heart and never leave.

It should scare him. It should feel like standing at the top of a hill and looking down.

It doesn’t.

Jaskier walks into the stage, a space of elevated marble he supposes a statue had been resident of. It suits him, the small pedestal — the way the golden thread of his dark green doublet glitters when moonlight catches it makes something ethereal of him, the few fallen flowers of his crown tangled on his hair — now tousled and matted with sweat — making something beautiful of him.

“Yes, yes, I’ve returned with more!” He exclaims at the whistles and cheers from the crowd, who’ve undoubtedly fallen in love with his first set. “We’re changing things up a bit now— How would you feel about something softer for a change?”

People cheer again, and Jaskier’s face breaks into a blinding grin. “Perfect! Now,” he looks around, “I want you to find the people you love. Your spouse, your lover, your friend, your sister, your child— everyone and anyone your heart beats for.”

The crowd starts gathering around in different groups, and Geralt smiles at how mismatched they are — tiny children and their grandparents, groups of single maidens hugging each other tightly, couples tenderly embracing each other.

Jaskier’s smile is softer, this time. “There,” he whispers. “Because love is something to share— This song I’m sharing with you.”

And then he’s gone — all his stage-borne facade falls away as he starts to play. His fingers are plucking a gentle, easy melody, and he’s humming along. People start slowly swaying to the sound of his voice, their eyes bright and shiny with mirth and love. Then, very softly, his voice barely above a whisper, he sings,

“Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help

Falling in love with you…”

It’s incredibly gentle, and Geralt feels drawn to it immediately. He watches as Jaskier sways with the music, eyes closed and brow furrowed, completely lost on it. There are buttercups on his hair and love in his mouth and Geralt suddenly wants to reach for him, put out his hand only for Jaskier to hold.

Jaskier opens his eyes as the last verse comes in. “Take my hand,” he sings, and he does a brave thing and looks into Geralt’s eyes. “Take my whole life, too.”

He would.

“For I can’t help,” he says with a smile, and looks out to the public. “Falling in love with you.”

The song ends, but Jaskier keeps playing the chord progression softly. The crowd isn’t there anymore — they’re all somewhere else, holding their beloved in tender arms and swaying to the tune of their love. As Jaskier’s playing slowly fades out, there is no applause, no enthusiastic cheering nor plea for an encore.

They all know.

Geralt’s looking out to the waves when Jaskier joins him by the railing.

“Hey,” he whispers.

Geralt turns to face him. “Hey,” he whispers back.

Jaskier’s smile is soft as he takes him in. “You came.”

“I did,” Geralt says, voice low. “Was told someone would be waiting for me.”

“And here I am.”

The waves crash against the rocks.

“That was a new one,” Geralt murmurs, looking at the scar on his knuckle. “The song.”

“It was,” Jaskier replies simply.

Geralt looks at him. “I liked it.” It’s no big compliment, but Jaskier seems to understand him all the same.

He always does.

“I’m glad,” he says. “I like it too.”

He leans his elbows on the railing, their shoulders almost touching. Jaskier’s cheek is still smudged with ink.

“You have…” Geralt says, gesturing to his own face, and Jaskier frowns at him. Geralt shakes his head. He licks his thumb and reaches, Jaskier’s skin soft as he swipes the ink away, his mouth slightly parted.

“There,” he whispers, but his hand doesn’t leave Jaskier’s cheek. “Do they really say it?”

Jaskier frowns, confused. Their shoulders are touching. “Who?”

Geralt reaches for Jaskier’s flower crown and looks at him, a silent request. Jaskier nods. Geralt takes it in his hands and gently tucks the loose stems back together, the way he’d seen girls do it in the town square. He doesn’t lose a single petal.

“The wise men,” he says, placing the crown on top of Jaskier’s head, where it belongs. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

Jaskier takes them in his. “It is foolish to rush in unprepared. You taught me that.”

“Am I wise, then?”

Jaskier laughs, shakes his head. “I never said that.”

Geralt doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet, watching Jaskier’s rings as they glint in the moonlight, watching Jaskier’s fingers as they play with his.

“I love you, you know,” Jaskier murmurs, looking at their joined hands.

“I know.”

“You’re my best friend.”

Geralt looks at him. “I know.”

He needs the weight of his swords strapped at his back. He wants to be brave.

He looks down.

“I love you,” he says. “I can’t help it.”

Jaskier smiles. “Well, now you’re just being mean— plagiarizing my song right in front of me.”

“Jask.” It sounds like a prayer. Geralt squeezes his hands, amber meeting cornflower blue. “You know what I mean, when I say—”

“I know what you mean,” Jaskier says. “I know.”

They drink each other in, and Geralt knows this is the first time they’re seeing each other. Gently, he places one hand on the small of Jaskier’s back, the other on his nape, and brings their foreheads together.

Jaskier’s hands find their way to Geralt’s waist. Nobody’s ever held him like that. With care. Like he’s something precious, something to be treasured.

His nose grazes Jaskier’s cheek and he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

And Jaskier’s smiling when he says, “I wish you would.”

So he does. Soft lips against chapped ones, lute-calloused hands against scarred ones. Jaskier kisses him back tenderly, unhurried, and it’s honey-sweet like the wine he can taste on Jaskier’s mouth, like the love he can feel on his scent.

When they pull apart — only because they have to — Geralt circles Jaskier in his arms, pressing small kisses to his cheeks, his jaw, his nose, his forehead. It makes him laugh.

“Tickles,” he says, and there’s a smile in his voice. “Your beard.”

Geralt presses a final, lingering kiss to his mouth. “Sorry,” he whispers against his lips.

The party has carried on without them, as it is wont to do. There’s a harp player on the stage now, plucking a soft melody from its strings.

Jaskier’s eyes are bright when he looks up at him. It feels right, to be holding him like this, to drown in his warmth and press love into his hands like it’s all he can do — and it is. All he can do is watch into Jaskier’s eyes and try not to get lost in them and stop a smitten smile from curling on his lips.

He’s helpless, he knows. It doesn’t scare him anymore.

“Home?” Jaskier murmurs against his cheek.

The inn, he means. “Aren’t you playing?”

Jaskier’s mouth curls into a mischievous smile, one of Geralt’s favorites. “They’ll survive without me, I reckon.”

Geralt narrows his eyes. “Jaskier—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” he protests, rolling his eyes. “We need the coin. Ugh— one would think the guy confessing his undying love—”

“Now, undying is—”

“His undying love for me would change things, would buy me some indulgence— not at all!” He buries his face in Geralt’s neck, letting out a long-suffering groan. “Why must you be so responsible all the time?”

There are many reasons. Looking at Jaskier’s flushed face and capricious frown, Geralt can’t remember any of them. “Go,” he says softly, nodding at the stage. “For me.”

Jaskier groans louder. “That,” he says, poking Geralt’s chest, “is a very unfair card to play.”

“And why’s that?”

Jaskier tangles their fingers together. “Because you know I would do anything for you.”

Geralt’s face softens. He knows. “Go. I’ll wait for you.”

Defeated, Jaskier looks at the stage, then at Geralt, pouting. “Won’t you at least kiss me farewell? I’ve a long journey ahead.”

It’s Geralt’s turn to roll his eyes — still, he reels Jaskier in and presses a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Great start!” Jaskier says cheerfully. “Now, like you mean it.”

“Insufferable,” Geralt murmurs, but he gives in. The kiss is deep and slow, and somehow full of promise. He can feel Jaskier sigh happily against his lips, his scent gone sweet and warm as Geralt’s hands find Jaskier’s sides.

They part, begrudgingly. Jaskier’s cheeks are deep pink and his flower crown sits askew on his head once again, so Geralt fixes it for him.

“We should get one for you,” the bard says, watching him.

“Hmm.” Geralt presses a final kiss to his lips. “Go.”

“I’m getting you one,” Jaskier says stubbornly, ignoring Geralt’s wish, and Geralt loves him too much. “Just wait here.”

He lets Jaskier go, and watches as he runs over to the stand where a young woman is weaving tulips and baby’s breath together into a crown. He watches as he excitedly gestures at it and cradles it in his tender hands, a look of genuine joy on his face. He watches as he turns around, his lips stretched into a too-wide grin as he waves at Geralt, pointing at the crown.

He watches as he walks toward him.

He waits for him to fit into his open arms. He waits for him to place the crown on top of his head and adjust it once, twice, before it’s deemed perfect. He waits for him to kiss his cheek and groan about having to return to his duty as entertainment for the evening.

He waits for him as he plays.

“I love you,” he tells him later, when they’re both tucked in bed and their fancy clothes have been folded and their legs are tangled together.

Jaskier grins. “Say it again.”

Geralt can’t hide the smile that curves his lips — he doesn’t want to. “I love you,” he says, and kisses his cheek. “I love you,” his forehead, “I love you,” his eyelids. “I love you,” his mouth.

He says it so much the words sound foreign in his mouth. He says it until they belong in his mouth again.

“Thank you,” Jaskier says after a while, candlelight framing the tenderness in his eyes. “It’s been good.”

Geralt smiles.

It has.

#mywriting #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfic #geraskier fluff #jeff buckley lyrics my beloved

188 notes · View notes

rengoku-loves-you · 3 years

Note

This is such a weird request, but can you do the reader doing a break up prank on our sun, kyo? (Weird ik I just kinda wanna see how it goes XD)

(hi hun! don't worry about weird requests, this made me laugh when i read it! though it probably doesn’t show... i probably made it a bit more emotional and angsty than you were hoping, i’m sorry about that ^^; it hurt my little kyo-loving heart to make him sad tho, i almost couldn't bear it but that was the way it flowed :'D thank you so much for your request! ❤️️)

kyojuro x reader (in which you make up a break-up)

warnings: miscommunication, prank (accidentally) gone too far, angst?

"i think it's best if we don't see each other anymore."

kyojuro freezes. he'd been in the middle of cleaning his sword, wiping away the remains of the demon he had slain during his last mission, when you dropped that bomb on him. you don't even have the decency to look at him, sitting across from him with your eyes closed and your legs crossed like his. practicing your breathing, supposedly.

"what do you mean by that?" he asks slowly, very sure he's heard you wrong. his hearing has always been a little faulty ever since that one disastrous mission. "you're my successor! we could hardly not see each other anymore, your training is nowhere near complete. unless one of us goes blind!" he smiles, and you blink open your eyes. you don't look as amused as he hoped you would.

"i mean we should break up," you say bluntly, and that. that slaps the tentative smile right off his face. for a long moment, it's silent.

"ah," he says, quiet. his gaze flicks away, down to his sword, and he mindlessly starts cleaning it again before his hands start to shake. he forces his lips upward again, ignoring how they tremble. "i... if that's what you truly want, i understand! i will not pressure you to change your mind! you know what you desire better than anyone!" and he doesn't say any more, scrubbing the rag over the blade over and over and over again.

"okay," you say shortly. "thank you for understanding, rengoku." he gives a single nod, and you close your eyes again. rengoku. you only called him that when he was in trouble. otherwise, it was always kyojuro or even kyo.

it stings.

it stings a lot, even more than the bite the demon had taken out of his leg during the mission. in fact, his heart hurts so bad that he doesn't even notice when his eyes start to sting as well until tears are dripping onto his sword, smearing when he tries to rub them away.

"i'm just," you start to say, and then you inhale sharply, cutting yourself off. he doesn't hear what you say next, because he sobs at the sound of your voice, and his sword falls to the ground in his haste to scrub away the shameful, selfish tears. when he feels your hands on his shoulders, he jerks away.

“i’m fine, i’m okay!” he insists loudly, dodging your touch again when your fingers brush his cheek. he’s trying so hard to keep the smile on his face that it only makes his eyes water more. “i’ll stop in a moment, i apologize for this!” his voice wobbles, and he roughly scrubs at his face for it, trying to tamp the emotions down. he isn’t even entirely sure why he’s crying like this. you’re still his successor, and you’re not so cruel as to treat him coldly even after you break up. he knows you’ll still be friends at the very least. it’s not as if you’ll really never see each other again.

but you were his first, the only one he dared to let in so deep into his heart even though he knows the risks, because he believed in you and your ability to stay alive. he believed you would succeed in becoming a pillar, flame or otherwise, and just like a moth to a flame that spark inside you drew him in. you were natural friends, slipping into dating territory without either of you having to ask.

(”dating” being a relative term, of course. neither of you have much time to indulge in silly, normal dates, so you steal kisses, stay for dinner, and spend the night when you can.)

he feels like a child again, freshly abandoned, scorched inside with grief and burned outside from the flames he recklessly practices with. only this time, the external burns are your fleeting touches as you try to calm him down, saying words his ears refuse to let him process.

“i’m fine, i’m fine,” he persists, hoarse now that he’s nearly cried out, and you fall quiet. his entire face feels hot, a mixture of his aggressive rubbing, the usual post-breakdown flush, and shame. you’ve given up on helping, standing worriedly at his side with your hands wringing. you watch him take shuddering breaths, somehow still with that damned grin on his face that looks nothing but painful.

“i apologize,” kyojuro begins, because he knows all his crying did was make you feel guilty and the last thing he wants is to make you feel responsible for him and his silly emotions.

“it was a joke,” you say weakly, and he blinks, water catching on his lashes as he gazes at the wall.

“what was that?” he asks, tugging the handkerchief from his breast pocket. you open your mouth, but then he blows his nose, loud and obnoxious, and you shut it again. you wait until he folds it back up, sniffing once, before he grips his knees with his eyes so wide that if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was waiting for someone to cut his head off. “i don’t think i heard you correctly. can you repeat that?”

“it was a joke,” you say again, lamely. “i-i didn’t expect you to take it so hard, especially not that fast. i thought you were gonna act all pouty and give me those sad eyes that you get whenever i don’t share my sweet potatoes with you. then i’d say i was kidding, and we’d kiss and laugh ‘cause we’re too perfect together for that to happen. it was supposed to be funny. i’m not that good at lying, kyo.” you kneel next to him, bowing your head. “i’m sorry.” even as the silence stretches, you don’t dare look up.

“well,” he rasps, and you jolt when you feel a warm hand fall on your head, “i suppose i’m just that terrible at understanding jokes!” when you dare to lift your eyes, he’s smiling at you. genuinely this time, small and still mildly tearstained. “there’s no need to apologize! i was the one who overreacted!”

“kyojuro,” you nearly whine, because he’s only making you feel worse. “it was a mean prank in the first place, don’t you dare start apologizing to me. i’m the one who should be apologizing.” he chuckles, his hand sliding to your upper arm and tugging gently, and you immediately lean into him. he wraps his arm around your shoulders, nose pressed to the top of your head, and you loop your arms around his waist.

“if you say so! i won’t argue with you!” he brings his other arm up, and then he’s practically shuffling into your lap, squeezing you tightly. you let him, even though he’s heavy and nowhere near acceptable lap-sitting size, because you can still feel him shaking and you know he needs the comfort.

“i really am sorry,” you mumble against his shoulder, fingers toying with his belt. “i’ve never seen you cry like that.”

“i’ll forgive you,” he says, “under one condition!” you don’t hesitate to nod. right now, you’d probably do anything he asked, if only to ease the massive pit of guilt in your stomach just a little. he pulls back, hands gripping your shoulders, and gives you another smile. more of a smirk, really. then he leans close to your ear, hot breath ghosting over your skin, and you shiver.

“never, ever leave me,” he whispers, lips brushing your ear when he speaks. “otherwise...” you close your eyes, feeling your cheeks warm, but force yourself to keep still. he sighs, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, his hands slowly wandering down to your sides. “otherwise, i’ll cry. i’ll cry myself to death! then you’ll really be sorry!” his fingertips dig into your sides, and you gasp and jolt at the sharp, ticklish pain.

you really should’ve known.

“kyojuro!” you halfheartedly shove at his chest, and he falls back, laughing. his voice is still a little thick, and his eyes are raw and he’s still shaking like a leaf, but he leans in and kisses you anyway. that’s all the forgiveness you two need for now.

(he tastes like salt.)

#demon slayer imagines #demon slayer rengoku imagines #rengoku imagines #kny imagines #kny rengoku imagines #kyojuro rengoku imagines #rengoku x reader #anon request #i hope you all enjoy!!#i've been getting a lot more requests than i expected #so if you sent a request please wait a little longer!#i'm doing my best to get through them all!

376 notes · View notes

inkmemes · 3 years

Text

futurama ( 1999 - 2013 ) sentence starters ↪ taken from the animated science fiction show. alter as you see fit ♡

“let's get the hell out of here already! screw history!”

“when you do things right, people won't be sure you've done anything at all.”

“you have to use a light touch, like a safecracker or a pickpocket.”

"stop! the spirit is willing, but the flesh is spongy and bruised."

"she's stuck in an infinite loop and he's an idiot. that's love for you."

"all i know is my gut says maybe."

“i've never seen a super nova blow up. but if it's anything like my old chevy nova, it'll light up the night sky!”

"every christmas my mom would get a fresh goose, for goose-burgers, and my dad would whip up special eggnog out of bourbon and ice cubes."

"what do i look like, a guy who's not lazy?"

“is heaven missing an angel, cuz you've got nice cans!”

“help! a guinea pig tricked me!"

"[name], if i said you said you had a beautiful body, would you take your pants off and dance around a little."

"drugs are for weirdos and hypnosis is for weirdos with big eyebrows."

"[name], it would never work between us. you're a man, and i'm a woman. we're just too different."

“screw you, ill have my own contest. with black jack ... and hookers. forget the contest.”

“ah, she's built like a steakhouse but she handles like a bistro.”

"spare me your space age techno babble, [name].”

"it's sort of a two person pyramid scheme."

"i don't want to live on this planet anymore."

"you were doing well, until everyone died."

“if we hit that bullseye, the rest of the dominoes will fall like a house of cards. checkmate.”

“i am the man with no name. [muse name], at your service.”

“in the game of chess, you can never let your adversary see your pieces.”

"this is the worst kind of discrimination, the kind against me."

"you watched it... you can't unwatch it."

“valentine’s day is coming? aw crap! i forgot to get a girlfriend again!”

"hold on to your dookie, it’s about to get spooky!"

"i'm tired of this room and everyone in it."

"i'm so embarrassed. i wish everyone else was dead."

"you can't just have your characters announce how they feel! that makes me feel angry!"

"i don't have emotions, and sometimes that makes me very sad."

"if, for any reason you're not satisfied, i hate you."

"that young man fills me with hope. plus some other emotions which are weird and deeply confusing."

"i've dreamed about you a lot since you disappeared. what did you want to tell me?"

"what do you think the meaning of life was anyway?"

“you're a pimple on society's ass and you'll never amount to anything!”

“life and death are a seamless continuum.”

“if anyone wants me, i'll be in the angry dome.”

“and the worst part is, i had to have the breakup sex by myself!”

“they said i was dumb, but i proved them.”

“what's the point of living if i can't say ass?”

“i'll be stuffing coal so far down your stocking you'll be coughing up diamonds!”

“we're all pawns in his diabolical game of checkers.”

"wait, i'm having one of those things, a headache, with pictures!"

“sorry, i didn't realize i was already here.”

"guess what you're an accessory to!"

"why does ross, the largest friend, not simply eat the other friends?"

“there's no scientific consensus that life is important.”

"we cooked our shoes in the dryer and ate them! now we're bored!"

“i'm just as important as him. it's just that, the kind of importance i have ... it doesn't matter if i don't do it.”

“oh what a foolish squid i’ve been.”

“my instinct is to hide in this barrel, like the wily fish.”

"that was bad, and you should feel bad!"

"technically correct - the best kind of correct!"

"and here is where i keep my assorted lengths of wire!"

"oh wait, you are serious! let me laugh even harder!"

"i gotta practice my stabbing!"

"that's the saltiest thing i've ever tasted! and i once ate a big, heaping bowl of salt!"

“i apologize for nothing!”

"die young and leave a beautiful corpse! that's what i always say."

"here's to another lousy millennium."

“but i am already in my pajamas.”

“windmills do not work that way. goodnight.”

"you win again gravity."

"when push comes to shove, you got to do what you love, even if it's not a good idea.”

“but existing's basically all i do!”

“when will the killing end?"

"i'll be whatever i want to do."

"the use of words expressing something other than their literal intention. now that. is. irony."

"could you ask a little more sexfully?"

"hooray! i'm useful!"

"awesome. awesome to the max."

"some breaking occurred, the dolly was involved, that's about all we know."

“you want me to do two things?”

i love stealin', i love takin' things!

“i believe that qualifies as ill. at least from a technical standpoint.”

"that was the old me. he's dead now."

"jail ain't so bad; you can make sangria in the toilet. ‘course, it's shank or be shanked."

"one word. thundercougarfalconbird."

"of all my friends, you're the first."

“girls like swarms of lizards, right?”

“i lost it. in a volcano.”

"i'm gonna get you so many lizards!"

"who needs courage when you have a gun?"

“let's go! i've got jelly in my underpants!”

"interesting if true."

“i did do the nasty in the pasty!”

"something tells me i could easily beat those trained professionals."

"the two of you are good friends? but i thought we would be good friends!"

"it's like a party in my mouth, except everyone's throwing up."

“i'm shocked. shocked! well, not that shocked.”

“it's me! no one else look in this mirror!"

“you ever think you only like girls cause you're supposed to?”

"we don't gotta put up with this! we got poli sci degrees."

“sorry, i suffer from a very sexy learning disorder.”

“did somebody say something about a free hot meal?”

“you gotta do what you gotta do.”

"too many bones? not enough cash?"

“hey sexy mama, wanna kill all humans?”

"i don't know how you did that."

"the butter in my pocket is melting!"

"well ... first i got up and had a piece of toast ..."

“i can't wait til i'm old enough to feel ways about stuff.”

“interesting! no ... wait ... the other thing. tedious.”

"i knew you come crawling back, like a bird on its belly!"

“we both know you won't make it halfway before the craving sets in! then you'll come crawling back for another taste of sweet sweet candy. bam!"

“indeed so, most indeededly.”

"and by metaphorically, i mean get your coat."

“[vehicle]'s ready except for this cup holder, and i should have that done in 12 hours."

"stop. stop! i will destroy you." [ bonus if the receiver is doing something mundane to sender ]

“just make a simple cake. and this time, if someone's going to jump out of it, make sure to put them in after you cook it.”

“lies, lies and slander!”

“you raised my hopes and dashed them quite expertly, sir!”

“but going through a divorce together, you can't pretend that didn't bring us closer together.”

“when you say the human body is the most efficient thing to use as a battery, wouldn't anything make a better battery? like a potato? or a battery?”

“i'll have you know that i bejazzle my own underpants!”

“i'm sorry you had to see that, [name], usually i let my sadness fester quietly inside as a mental illness.”

“i'm not drunk, i'm mentally ill! but i agree with what, what you said.”

“this is a cool way to die!”

#rp meme #rp starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters

236 notes · View notes

earth2bucky · 3 years

Text

an art to life’s distractions | b.b

a/n: a fluffy little piece to help get you (& me) through the long weekend!

summary: a commission for my sweet anna with this prompt!: what’s up with them? they’ve been laying on the floor for like ... an hour now?? they’re just a little overwhelmed. why? bucky smiled at them.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 1.6k

two months after the apocalypse that never was, bucky barnes moves into your building.

miraculously alive for the five hundredth time, he makes the four flights of stairs up to your floor on a particularly sunny thursday afternoon and walks right into you on your way down.

“fuck me - i’m so sorry.”

your hands are full of empty beer bottles headed for the recycling, and one goes flying as you make contact with his chest.

before you even have time to register the blue of his eyes and his woodsy cologne, he’s bent down for the bottle and offering it to you with a gentle smile.

“my fault.”

he meets your gaze now, and you take a moment to bask in it.

there’s no lewdness or judgement in it that you can gage, just a genuine kindness that nearly knocks you off your feet. it helps that he’s otherworldly gorgeous.

“thank you.”

he smiles again and then he’s gone, disappearing down the hall.

on your way down to the recycling bin, you drop two more bottles from sheer nervous energy and collapse on the floor back in your apartment.

from the kitchen island over a bowl of potato salad, sam calls out. “what’s up with her?”

america’s golden boy replies from his spot on the couch.

“if i had to guess? - she ran into buck in the stairwell.”

“shit - i forgot he was comin’ this week. he blow a hole in you with his laser eyes?”

you sit up and meet his toothy grin with a withering look. “when you told me about your friend bucky, you conveniently forgot to mention that he’s the most beautiful man i’ve ever seen.”

sam throws his head back with laughter, and steve’s playing matchmaker in less than a second.

“i’m sure he’d be glad to hear you think so. ask him out for coffee sometime.”

the thought warms you from the inside out like red wine.

“alright, maybe i will.”

a week passes before bucky hears from you again.

the record player across the room bleeds billie holiday as he pads across the floor towards the fridge. towel slung low around waist, he digs around at the depressing selection of options before reaching for the phone.

he parrots his usual order of chinese times two and shamelessly requests a single serve of cutlery before clambering out onto the fire escape.

there’s something equally comforting and heartbreaking about watching the city to the soundtrack of his childhood. those lilting voices dredge up memories he can't decide whether he loves or hates; the biting taste of cheap whiskey and headaches he never managed to see coming.

if his memory holds true, the last time he’d heard this one was a summer afternoon before he’d even reached his seventeenth year. no doubt clean cut and sunday best; a stark tradition to the sight of him nowadays. his hair, still wet from the shower, sits limply along the back of his neck, and he brushes a drop of water away.

not ten minutes later, the beginnings of his peaceful evening are interrupted by the verberation of music from somewhere out in the hall. not dissimilar to the headache from cheap wine, his head begins to pound.

for fucks sake.

he’s outside and knocking at the offending door before he realises the stereotype he’d become.

it swings open mere seconds later, followed immediately by a flurry of limbs. the rest of you follows in suit, and bucky’s heart drops to his stomach. “hey!”

you’re beautiful, and you’re smiling right at him, and he soaks it in until his heart is bursting and he’s able to forget that he’s not wearing a shirt. you’re waiting for a response; the halo of aforementioned heavy rhythmic guitar behind your back, but he can’t seem to choke one out.

he’d been expecting some mid-twenties guy that he could’ve pulled the tired veteran card on, not the pretty girl he’d bumped into a week ago in the stairwell and hadn’t stopped thinking about since.

when he reflects on it later, he’ll have a bit of a cry over the fact that he even has the opportunity to worry about something so stupid and trivial as impressing an almost-crush.

“the uh, music. would you mind turning it down a little?” real smooth, barnes.

your face falls in guilt, and bucky tries to look less like a kicked puppy. “oh god, I’m sorry.”

“i psyched myself out watching this stupid movie and i figured music was the best remedy. more than happy to settle for another coping mechanism.” you’re rambling again, carrying the same sort of nervous energy you had when he’d first met you and sent that bottle flying.

even still, it surprises himself when he jumps at the chance to extend the conversation. “what movie?”

‘ah, you know, just gory shit.” bucky laughs and almost tells you he’s seen gorier things in his waking life.

he takes a moment to stare then, unabashedly watching as you fiddle with a bracelet around your wrist. “i uh- haven’t introduced myself properly. i’m bucky. you know steve?”

your eyes light up, and you finally seem to relax. “yes! we go to the same gym. good to finally meet you, bucky.”

it makes him all warm and fuzzy inside, and he finds himself thinking he’d like to make bedfellows with the feeling. unfortunately, his ogling is rudely interrupted by the arrival of his food, tucked under the arm of a lanky redhead.

you wish him sweet dreams, and bucky spends the rest of his evening wondering if you would’ve accepted an invitation to share the other half of his chow mein.

from there, it only gets worse.

steve takes it upon himself to invite bucky to your saturday movie nights, and before you know it he’s earned himself a semipermanent spot on your couch. it takes him a while to open up, but having steve around helps.

knowing what you do, watching the two of them talk brings a tear to your eye more often than you’d like to admit.

he’s wrapping you further and further around his finger with every endearing gesture and offhand comment, and the worst part is he doesn’t even notice. your feelings for him grow warm and cozy, swirling in your belly and squeezing your heart with fondness.

it very well could’ve been when he handed you the only remaining pillow and balled up a jacket under his head instead.

several times, it’s almost been that stupid face he makes while tapping away at his phone like a senior citizen.

but, just as it’d knocked you off your feet the first time, it’s his smile that does you in.

six feet of beef cake supersoldier graces the far left couch cushion with a napkin full of pizza nestled in his lap, no less than shovelling it into his mouth. sam and steve had bailed early, leaving the two of you to a black mirror marathon late into the night.

from what you’ve gathered in between ogling bucky, the episode is about the detriment of social media to modern society. the irony isn’t lost on you.

“you still playing the field on bumble?”

his response comes in the form of a grunt around a slice of pepperoni pizza. “don’t think it’s my scene.”

he’s still not looking at you and you’re almost grateful; eyes glued to the screen as he wipes his hand down on his skinny jeans. as much as you pay him out for dressing like an emo teenager, you can’t deny they do him favours.

“’should hit up bingo down the street. you’d charm the pants off rosemary.”

that gets a laugh out of him. he catches your eye with that torturous smile, and you’re a goner from the moment the warmth of it settles in your chest.

“could always try closer to home.”

he pauses, and you have to consciously pull your eyes away from his scarlet bitten lips. “huh?”

“you heard me, grandpa.”

he shakes his head. you can’t tell if he really didn’t hear you or he’s just taking pleasure in watching you make a fool of yourself. “one more time.”

“i said, you could always try closer to home.”

a car honks outside, and bucky’s smile turns to a flush that kisses the apples of his cheeks.

“you want me to take you out?” there’s a teasing edge to his voice that you want to slap (or kiss) right off.

“yes, ok? i want you to take me out and stick your tongue down my throat. jesus christ, will you stop making me embarrass myself now?”

any inkling of confidence he’d boasted deflates completely with the arrival of your admission. he’s well and truly flustered, neck flushing red under the tv light. “good to know.”

“’good to know’? what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

bucky only shrugs. “got so ahead of myself thinkin’ you’d turn me down that i gave up before i started. it’s good to know it was just in my head.”

“stupid.” somebody on screen lets out a bloodcurdling shriek, and you know how they feel.

“very.”

a beat of silence passes between you.

it’s a deep and utterly enrapturing thing when your lips finally meet. too quickly, he pulls away to pepper kisses all over your face - your cheek, your nose, the hard line of your jaw. all the while you're giggling like never before, relishing in the gentle warmth of him.

when he pulls back, his eyes are shot wide with a boyish kind of passion. “any good for you?”

“undecided. hit me again?”

a smile flirts at the corners of his mouth, and you realize three things from where you’re concreted to the leather couch.

for one, you’d have to order a bigger pizza the next time he was over.

second, that bucky barnes’ smile is without a doubt your favourite of the world’s great wonders.

and third, the realisation that his kiss might just give it a run for its money.

“my pleasure.”

taglist (add yourself here!!)

@blackberrybucky @bananapie99 @flowerpersephone @watermeloensuikerhoog @scrumptious-delusion @temporaryfix @delightfulheartdream @gryst @capxwinter @lumos-barnes @whereforewriter @awaywithtime @lilyblackx @jurassicbarnes @nuttytani @bucks-bunny @clubcesspool @wintersfilm @melchills-j @divine-mistake @leyannrae @wilder-minded @willowgames

#me & queue together song #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

170 notes · View notes

sashi-ya · 3 years

Text

{+18} - Law x Fem Best Friend ♥ CH. 5 – FINAL PART

♥ Daily living with the Heart pirates crew AU. ♥ Spoilers after Dressrosa Arc. Law´s backstory. Wano kuni arc. ♥ Female reader. Little physical description. Everybody is 18+, canon ages. ♥ TW: NSFW, violence. Drama (a lot of it), some broken bones. And fluff, a lot of it. No further warnings. If you think I should include some feel free to tell me ♥A/N: thank you so so much for reading until the end of this story. I enjoyed writing these chapters so much! I hope you enjoyed it as much as me. I’ll be pleased to accept any request or commentaries on this or other fics.

Word count: 5.0K

» List of parts: {CH1} {CH2} {CH3} {CH4}«

Chapter 5

Next thing I remember was opening my eyes and seeing Law’s face. He was carrying me in his arms, my hearing went from a loud buzzing to his voice. “Y/n-ya, answer me, come back, are you with me??”, my best friend kept asking me while running. I gave him a smile, and the only thing I could say to him was, “I’m sorry”, until I passed out again.

The night sky was deep blue, full of stars and a big moon that enlightened the whole room. I recovered my senses a few hours after, since Law has saved my life, once again. He was next to me, brushing his hand over my forehead, looking straight at the door with his katana on the other hand. I was lying on my bed. Around me, a whole disaster, everything I owned was scattered over the floor.

Once again, the first words that came out from my mouth were “I’m sorry”. I have put my whole crew, Law, and even my life in danger just because of my stupid pride… My personal doctor smiled at me and told me to shut up. He began to cry, openly, looking directly to my face. He was not hiding under his hat, not even over my chest. He was showing me how hurt he was, and this was for sure the very first time I’ve seen him cry like this. “I am the one who should be sorry. I left you alone, I abandoned you. Everything because I was scared, because I didn't want to accept how much I love you, I was afraid of changing, of putting you in danger. Look how you’ve ended because of me, they were searching for me…” he said, hitting his chest with his hand in a fist. He continued, “That’s the reason I wouldn’t really admit that the love I felt was more than just caring for a friend… I’m sorry Y/n-ya. I’m sorry… everything I said, it was a lie… I’ve loved you since...forever. You were always my star, the only person I could look at, when I was in the dark, you shine so bright, you light up my soul…”. I tried to get up from bed, but a throbbing pain on my ribs stopped me from it. “ugh… Law…”, he told me to remain still on bed, and informed me that 5 of my left ribs were broken. I wanted to say so many things, to tell him it was alright, that I wanted to go back to the polar and resume our journey as if nothing happened, but… it wasn’t that easy, I was hurt too. I remained silent, looking through the window, searching for the best words to say, to express everything I had inside my chest.

I finally decided to speak. Law was still crying, but he wouldn’t guard down, he was protecting me. I said, “Oi, dumbass… how did you find me?”, “I followed your vivre card, of course” he answered sobbing. “Yeah, but… how did you get here so fast? where were you?”, I asked. I guess his cheeks turned to red, he seemed as if he was blushing, and after stuttering a little, he confessed, “I.. we.. I stayed in the submarine on the other side of the island, I was scared. Everybody agreed on waiting for you…”.

He was always here?... of course, he was, his vivre card would always point to the same place. And... that time I went exploring the whole island, I thought I saw the guys in the distance, on the shore… I... thought it was just my imagination… I began to cry and laugh at the same time, covering my eyes with my hands. “I love you, dumbass. I love you more than anything, you were always here, you didn’t abandon me”. Suddenly I was so happy, I knew he wouldn’t leave me, I knew he would always protect me... I knew it. I was full of joy...

Law laid next to me in bed, softly because he knew how hurt I was, hugged me and kissed my forehead. He had the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. He looked so relieved. The warmth I felt on my chest when I had his vivre card over, I was now feeling it all over my body.

We stayed like this for a few minutes until Law said, “You need to rest, and I need to be alert in case some more bastards come”. I calmed him, “they won’t come here, they think we are on the submarine, leaving this city… Do you remember your vivre card?”. He looked at me, worried. I continued, “I’m sure you think that yonkou’s subordinates have found and stolen your vivre card from here, right?”. He nodded and said, impatient, "yes, when I was beating the shit out of them, I heard that they have finally found it, how come they don't have it?". “If I have learned something from you throughout all of this years is to plan things out… Yesterday morning, before leaving home I got the feeling that I should carry your vivre card with me…” I slowly pulled the little paper from my bra and showed it to him. He widened his eyes and was about to say something, but I resumed speaking like a smart detective, “Yet, a few days ago I thought of how dangerous it was that someone could find your vivre card, my dear ex Shichibukai…so, I made a fake one, I used some fish scales that I took from a fish of the river to make it, write your name on it, and leave it on that little box you now see empty over the dresser. So, I think they might be following that fish...”. Law’s face was priceless, at first, he was dumbfounded, but a few seconds later we both burst into laughing.

Despite how painful it was to laugh with a few broken ribs I couldn’t help it. It was too funny, and it was the first time I laughed since a long long time. I missed those days when we were younger, had no place to stay and even if the cold was getting into the bones, a few stupid phrases of Bepo or Penguin made us laugh uncontrollably. It was, after all, our "Laugh Tale".

“Oi, you should eat something, are you hungry?”, asked my doctor, to which I replied with a sexy smile “I am hungry for you, doc”. “I’d love to fuck you right here, right now, as hard as I want, but It wouldn’t be ethic, you’ll be in pain…” he said straightforwardly to my face. I gasped; I love how Law gets when he is horny… “Now, tell me where the food is, I’m going to cook something”, he said and I pointed to a few groceries that were still on the counter.

Law gathered a few of the things that were scattered all over the floor and promised me to clean everything up tomorrow. He was acting like a husband, how cute.

I contemplated how he focused on cooking frowning. The last time I saw him cooking was when we were little, sometimes he woke me up with breakfast, sometimes he would broil some potatoes, but somehow every time he did, his eyes got sad. So, before Penguin, Shachi and Bepo arrived I normally cooked for him.

“Here, let me help you sit on the bed”, he said, bringing two plates of some risotto he made for us. He left the plates over the floor, hugged me, put a pillow behind my back and sat me on the bed.

“Mmmh, where did you learn to cook risotto, Law? This meal is delicious!”, I said, delighted with the taste of the food. He looked at me with one of his cheeks poofed with food and smiled with his eyes. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that smile, I’m so in love with him, damn it…

The foliage of the trees that surrounded my little room began to move every time the autumn breeze blew through them. Everything was so calm. I felt as if no more danger was around me, as if nothing that could happen from now on, could be worse than being apart from Law.

We chatted for a little bit while eating, we were happy, no worries, Law never stopped smiling and neither did I. He helped me to lay down on bed again, and he did the same next to me. “I love you”, Law whispered to me while grabbing my face with his hands, softly caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. Our noses touching, both smiling. “I love you too…”.

Morning came and a sweet smell of honey woke me up. Law was softly kissing my forehead with a cup of tea on his hands. “Good morning darling, I made you a green tea with honey”. I covered my mouth trying not to laugh, but it was impossible. I broke out laughing. Don’t get me wrong, I thought that what he did was the most cute thing ever… but… can you imagine Trafalgar D. Water Law being all cute and romantic? “This is the first time you call me “darling”, I’m sorry”, I said and kept giggling. His face changed to a poutier one so I stopped laughing, “I’m sorry Law… I mean… babe?.” I said and took a sip of the tea.

He gave me a little smirk, and directed his sight to the floor while saying, “I’m ok with any name you call me, I like “babe”, It makes me happy”. This was the first time I saw him in love, and it was… with me.

After breakfast, he washed the dishes and called Bepo. “Aya aya, Captain!! how are you? is Y/n with you? is she ok?!”, screamed the polar bear on the other side of the line. “Oi Bepo, yes, she is with me, she is ok. Are you ok? did you notice something suspicious or any movements last night?”. Ah… Law, always talking like he is some sort of a secret agent of the marines…. “Captain, Penguin speaking. We saw two ships leave the coast at night, they got the Beast pirates flag. They didn’t see us; we were hiding as you told”. “Perfect, Y/n-ya has five broken ribs, I put them in place, but she will have to rest on the mainland for a few days, the pressure of the submarine could make the pain worse if she goes immediately underwater. Please, keep informing me at any suspicious movement. And don’t worry, they aren’t following my vivre card”, Law informed my nakamas and hung up the den den mushi.

“Y/n-ya... darling… I should change your bandages and treat your wounds, are you up for it?”, he asked like the good doctor he is. “Yes, honey, let’s do it. I’m sure you already know, but there are some supplies in the bathroom, but If they aren’t enough, you could go and ask Dr. Saturn, I’ve been working with him as his medical assistant”, I told him. He looked at me, and suddenly his eyes turned to fire. Law rarely loses his taciturn countenance, but that time his face transformed into pure hate. “What is it?”, I asked him without any clue of what was happening. “That bastard, that “doctor”, he sold you to the pirates”, he almost shouted. Profoundly shocked, I mumbled “What? how… how did you know?”. “I investigated while we were apart, I didn’t mean to follow you or else, but… I was worried, I wanted to protect you… even though I let these things happen to you”, he said now with a guilty tone, while unfolding the bandages. “It’s ok, it’s now over, from now on we will be together to protect us” ... I told him with a side smile that soon turned into a little wince.

Soon I was left with no bandages on my body, my torso naked, covered in bruises and scuffs. Law softly brushed some cotton embedded on alcohol over the scuffs, he was so delicate that It felt almost as a tickle sensation. His hands always worked as stethoscopes because of the Ope Ope no mi, so he then placed a hand over my heart and checked my heartbeat. The cold breeze and the soft touch of his hands over my nipples made them turn hard, and a little gasp slipped out of my mouth. The touch of skin over mine lit a fire inside of me.

Law looked at me top to bottom, finally worshipping with his intense grey eyes, my boobs. Licking his upper lip, he slowly approached his mouth over one of my erect nipples. He licked it from bottom up, fixing his eyes on mine, smirking sexy. My body squirmed as the sensation of his wet tongue struck me with a wave of pleasure. Even if It hurt, even if I had a few broken ribs, that little action made me wish he fucked me hard, I needed to, I had a real lust for him.

He kept on using his mouth, he would lick, softly bite, suck both of my tits, gently enough to avoid my ribs hurt.

“Oi, let me put you some bandages, if not… we can’t continue…”, he said. And I, that I was lost in the arousal that Law was producing on me, agreed. He started folding my torso with the elastic bandages, the pressure over my skin that sometimes hurt, also contributed to the heat of the moment. “Imagine if instead of bandages, I used some ropes…” he softly whispers next to my ear from behind.

I turned my face to the side and reached for his mouth. We kissed passionately, lustfully, erotically.

The bandages were so tightly snuggled that I couldn’t feel any pain. Law managed to tight them perfectly so they could be holding my ribs but letting my breasts free of them.

My lover delicately laid me down on the bed, took off his shirt and settled over me. Law ran his hand over my face, caressing my skin, while maintaining his weight with the other arm at the side of my head. I kissed his palm with the side of my mouth. This moment felt magical for us, our eyes interlocked with pure love for each other, it was more than just pleasure. He was making love to me, and I did too.

His fingers travelled from my face to my sex, getting moistened with how wet I was. His tattooed index finger lingered over my clit tracing circles around and over it. A few moments later he put the finger on my mouth requesting me with a “taste your flavour” to lick his finger. I sucked it so lewdly, that made him groan loudly.

He knelt in front of me and used his middle and ring finger with a “come hither” motion inside of me, spotting the G point, making me arch my back and moan loudly. And as if that pleasure wasn’t enough, he also used his tongue over my pleasure button. I cummed so hard, squirting his whole hand.

Far from being exhausted I invited Law to release the bulge trapped into his trousers and to come near my mouth. “I want you to jack off and fuck my mouth, babe” I asked him with an inviting obscene tone. The surgeon gasped and as fast as he could took his pants off. I opened my mouth with my head over the pillow sticking my tongue out, awaiting to taste his sweet member.

First, I licked it, then I grabbed it with my hands and placed it inside of my mouth. Law was so heated that couldn’t resist himself and hold my jaw in order to fuck my mouth, first cautiously, but then violently as he left himself go with the desire and the pleasure he was experiencing. I fixed my teary eyes on his, choking with the length and width of his hard rock pennis. He didn’t finish, but instead, went straight to fuck me.

Again, he was settled over me, delicately penetrating me, with soft thrusts at first but increasing the pace with every pounding. He strongly held my wrists over my head while fucking me.

Letting me go he approached his body to mine, letting the side of his abs slightly rest over my stomach in order not to put so much pressure over my ribs. He charged all of his weight over the right side of his body and his elbow on the bed and kept on fucking me. The penetration was slowly just for the both of us to feel every movement in detail. Law stroked my hair as I whined more and more with pleasure. We both came almost together, with our mouths pressed moaning “I love you”.

Three days after, I felt better enough to take a walk, so after the guys confirmed that the city was free of dangerous enemies, we left the house for the first time. The fall had fully arrived at the island, warmth colours, chilly breeze that softly made some far away sunflower fields dance, the floor covered in dry red and brown tinted leaves, a few pumpkins that the citizen had on their porches, some shop owners already putting up Halloween decorations and a few kids playing on the street were part of the scenery of our walk. Law didn’t speak much as always, and I was enjoying how his tanned skin got bathed by the orangey tones of the afternoon sun.

Eventually, we arrived at the city centre, where the local producers market was taking place. I told Law that I wanted to buy some flowers from Mrs. Ann stand at the fair as I always did. He smiled at me, showing he agreed, and I started almost running. I recognized that I could be a little childish and impulsive sometimes, especially for someone like Law. “Oi! don’t run babe!!” he warned me and grabbed my hand in order to stop me. I looked back at him; my hair got blown by the wind as well as my skirt. I gave him a wide grin, slid my arm so that he could now hold my hand and pulled him towards me. The very first seconds he looked so mad at me, but then he let himself go and followed my pace with a big smile. We were almost running, holding hands, making the crows and larks fly off the streets scared of us.

“Hello Mrs. Ann, I’m here to buy you some pretty flowers, what bouquets do you suggest?” I asked the florist. “Hello, my dear! you seemed so happy today! who is this handsome young man that joins you today?!”, she said curious. My smile quickly faded, and I realized that we still haven’t talked about what we actually are, so, “Uhm… he is…”, “His boyfriend, I’m his boyfriend”, Law ended my sentence with a straight face. I blushed and giggled, I felt as if a hundred butterflies were flying inside of my stomach. Mrs Ann smiled at us, with genuine happiness, and said “So, this time we should let him pick the flowers for you, right young man?”. Law pointed to the sunflower’s bouquet and timidly said “Those, her favourite flowers are sunflowers, so I guess I’ll take those”. “Good choice boy, you know why sunflowers are so special? They usually face the sun, but whenever it is cloudy, they face each other so they get enough energy… Same goes with couples, whenever there are clouds in the sky, they should count on each other, until the sun comes back again, and both can enjoy it together”. Law smiled at her and then at me, I know for sure that we both count with each other, I know we do. We bought some more groceries and ended up having a picnic on the fields. This life was somehow better than I thought, but soon our couple time should be over. Our journey must continue, our missions should be complete, and we were young, we would have plenty of time once we achieve our goals to grow old together.

Two days after we returned to the submarine, and despite spending the last two days thinking of a better way to communicate with our crew that we… were dating, we couldn’t find the perfect way. Law was mortified, he hates to show emotions, and whenever our crew knows the big news, the amount of energy it's going to be too much to handle.

We could sight the Polar Tang that was moored on the coast, everybody was on the deck waving at us, shouting our names. Law was slowly hiding under the coat collar with every scream, and I was waving at them. I have missed them so much. “Guuuuuys!! guuuuuys!!! oii!!” I screamed, Law grabbed my hand and said, “be careful, you are not fully recovered yet”. “I’m sorry doc, I’ll behave… I promise. That means also no more sex until I get fully healthy, right?” He looked at me with a “how dare you?” expression but I kept talking, “fufufu… don’t worry I was joking, I couldn’t say no to getting railed by you, babe…”. I winked at him and he smirked saying “You are a lost cause…”.

The whole crew hugged me, expressing to me how much they have missed me, that I shouldn’t ever leave again and asked me why the hell I had left the submarine in the first place. I told them that tonight we should have a party and that Law, and I would explain everything in detail. My nakamas agreed on such a good plan and began to prepare everything to set sail.

I saw Law carrying my stuff inside, so I followed him. He entered his room with my baggage, and I stopped at the door… “Law, why are you putting my stuff in your room?” I asked, a little confused. “We are going to sleep together from now on, this should be your room too, right?” I widened my eyes, what have I done to the cold emo boy I once knew? I was pleased but surprised for sure. “Well, I’m fluttered, are you willing to hear me snore every night from now on?”, I asked, mocking him. “I’m ok with hearing you snore, if that is the price I have to pay for fucking you every night and cuddling with you”, he said, with a calm attitude. We both laughed and he helped me to unpack everything. While putting everything in place I saw an old polaroid we took back at Dressrosa after the big fight over his nightstand, and over it there was the necklace I had returned to him last time I was in the submarine. “Oi, babe, can you put me the necklace back, please” I said, holding it in my hands and showing it to him. Law smiled, approached me, and while he passed the chain on my neck, he said “Next jewel I’d like to put on you will be a ring…”. I giggled a little and kissed his cheek.

The night came and we were already in the middle of the sea, the sky was garnished with little stars that lit up our party, and the guys were drinking, dancing, and shouting. I decided that I’ll never leave them again, whatever comes to us, whatever happens between Law and I, this was my family, and I would be always with them no matter what.

I went inside looking for a blanket because the night breeze at the open sea could be quite cold. We usually keep some blankets in a little room next to the kitchen for easy access in case we emerge, and someone has to guard on the outside. Suddenly someone hugged me from behind. I instantly recognized my beloved sweet scent. He placed his chin over my shoulders, and his hands wrapped around my low stomach. We remained like this for a few moments, enjoying our company, dancing to the music that came from outside. We began to kiss gently, and Law closed the little door. We laughed while our lips were still pressed and then with our foreheads also. The joy and intimacy I experienced was so cute, as if we were just married… "stop, let me help us with something, SILENTO" I said, and snapped my fingers, creating a safe space where nobody in the submarine could listen to us with the power of my Nagi Nagi no mi. "Nobody can hear us now, we can be as naughty as we want'' I told him with a lascivious expression while grabbing him by his chin. That probably fanned the flames even more, so he pushed me against the wall and while kissing me, he started unbuttoning my trousers, and then almost ripping my panties off too. He put 2 fingers on my mouth for me to suck on them just to made them wet with my saliva. He shoved them into my pussy and moved them as he only knew how to. While he was fingering me, with the hand that until then was on my breast, he took off his pants revealing a huge erection that was about to be inside of me.

He grabbed one of my thighs, holding it up, just to spread my legs even more so he could fuck me even deeper, right there, standing, with my back pressed against some sort of metallic wall. I wasn't able to think anything besides how I wanted him to fulfill me with his hard cock. He fucked me so hard, I almost lost full control of my limbs, thank God he was holding me as If I weighed anything less than a feather. Damn, how strong he is. We let ourselves go, and after lustfully enjoying our fleshly lusts, we decided it was time to come back to the party. We were unaware that we climbed the leather to the deck holding hands and smiling at each other, so all of a sudden, the music stopped, as well as the murmur of the crew. Shachi shouted, “I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! of course everything that happened was because of this!” I closed my eyes, waiting for Law to shout and order them to shut the fuck up, but instead he said, “Of course it was because of this, it doesn’t take too much to come up to the conclusion… you idiot”. I started laughing, followed by my nakamas. The whole night came by with us celebrating my return to the submarine and the new couple...

A few adventures and two years after. End of the Grand Line, Laugh Tale Island…

I could still hear Mugiwara and Law laughing, we have achieved the last island, and you won't believe what the “One Piece” was, but that is just a whole different story that maybe I’ll tell you about it other time.

I was over the deck of the Polar Tang, admiring the beauty of the island that left the horizon back at us… I was thinking how many things we have been through to finally get here. Life hasn’t been easy to none of us, but surely, we made it happier, together. I wonder what our future has prepared us from now on.

A strong wind blew my hair, and I could sense as if someone was behind me. I thought it was Law, but when I turned around, I saw a blond man, wearing a blue feather coat, a heart patterned shirt and a hat that I could recognize real fast. His image wasn’t clear, but I could see him though. “Hello, Mrs. Trafalgar, please don’t freak out. I’m sure you know who I am… I came here to thank you. Thank you for taking care of my little boy, how big he got…”. I knew he was “Cora-san”, I wasn’t scared, I knew he was the kindest person in the world. “Thank you, Mr. Rosinante, you saved Law’s life, I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done for him. He is who he is for you”. The guy with a blue mark under his right eye, and some lipstick that made his smile even bigger, nodded and said, “by the way, congrats, Rosinante could be a great name, plus it goes well with the D…”. Next, I heard Law calling me “Y/N-ya, what are you doing here all by yourself?”, I turned around and he was coming my way, with a confused expression. I looked back at where Rosinante was, but he had already disappeared.

Law hugged me, he was happy and placed his head on my chest. “Did I tell you how much I love to hear your heart beating?”, he asked me still with his head over my chest. “You did, darling, it won’t ever stop beating for you”. Law smiled but suddenly his face turned to a more serious one. He stopped hugging me, and asked with a worried face, “Babe, how many hearts do you have?”, “You are a cardiac surgeon, I’m sure you know how many hearts I have, Law”, I said laughing. “Yeah, because I know that people normally have one, it’s not normal that I hear two hearts beating inside of… wait…” He stopped talking, looked at me and concluded everything in no time. “Babe… are you?... Am I going to be... a father?”, he said with tears on his eyes. “Congratulations, daddy”, I said, and Law hugged me so tight, holding me up in the air crying with pure joy in his heart. We remained hugged until a little bird flew past over us and a blue feather felt over us…

The End ♥

Thanks for reading! I’m open for requests, so if want me to, just ask ♥

#trafalgar d. water law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #one piece law #one piece x oc #one piece x reader #law x reader #one piece x y/n #trafalgar law x oc #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgarlawnsfw #torao #donquixote rosinante

154 notes · View notes

morimallow · 3 years

Note

Kenma with a gamer s/o that’s actually more of a introvert than him - like they’ll be eating ramen 24/7 snacks, chips, BIG eye bags, slightly messy room, game collection that date back too 2005/2012, will literally stay up for 3 day to play a game, raging etc.

Gender neutral pls :)

A/N: I am genuinely sorry for not writing this earlier because I surprisingly had fun writing this even if I don't play games and stuff. I hope you like this! ^o^

As usual, I posted this the second I was done writing it so this wasn't proof read and if you ever notice that I shifted from second person POV to third, I apologize. I've been using third person in the multi-chap I've been working on. (╥_╥)

Kenma Kozume's Gamer S/O

How you met Kenma was both cliche and at the same time, unusual because what are the chances that you'd meet your Player 2 for who knows how long at a local game store to buy the newly released video game you were both supposed to play that night?

You both thought that the person you met inside the store was a whole different human being.

It's not an angsty love story because when you realized your stories match up, you immediately started getting closer and closer until you found yourself in front of Kenma's large TV, sitting in your own gaming chair beside his black one, playing an old game released way back in 2005 and trying to complete all of the quests before 3AM.

Although it was hard to convince you to play at his house because surprise! You were even more introverted than him. You work from home, you do go out for groceries (sometimes but you usually order them online) and for games, of course, but in hoodies and a face mask so people won't talk to you.

So, Kenma had to make a move.

When he found out you both live in the same neighborhood, he played it simple first. He would place a bag of your favorite junk foods and the sweet drink you rarely drink and sometimes it's the energy drink you've always preferred with a little note asking if you'd let him borrow that limited edition video game from your vast collection of games from 2005 to 2012.

That was a good move, you'd have to admit because he knows the games he mentioned in the notes were the most precious to you and wouldn't leave it hanging inside a plastic bag hooked on your front door knob and wait for him to get it without anyone looking at it suspiciously.

It was too risky.

Fuck human interaction, right? Your games were more important.

Those little interactions and accidental touching of hands when you both decide it's the perfect time to grab a piece or two of potato chips Kenma bought on his grocery trip (believe me, it's a soulmate thing).

Ah, yes. So romantic.

Then the time came when you considered Kenma like one of your precious games — you don't want to throw it out, to sell and ship it away, you don't want anyone else to handle it because you know you can and you want to. You want him safe with you and show off to everyone as if he was the last copy of the rarest and most expensive purchase you've had.

In their faces.

You didn't really plan on confessing to him until you were playing where duos could battle and your opponent asked who Kenma was with because your moves were so in sync like you've played it for so long that you know each other's plays and moves (spoiler alert: you really did though).

“They're my S/O,” he answered before looking at you and asked for confirmation, “right?”

Play first! Play first! You gripped the controller, mumbling strings of curses under your breath in which Kenma thought it was your way of letting out the rage because of the game.

After you defeated them, you answered his previous question but more like stating it to your opponents, “Yeah, I'm his S/O,” you confirmed before reaching for the bag of chips beside Kenma when he grabbed your hand and placed a kiss between your knuckles then he continued playing as if it was the most normal thing he'd done.

Tonight would be the third night you've gone without sleep with Kenma. It shouldn't be a habit because it's obviously unhealthy to not get even a little bit of rest throughout the day but it kinda became a thing for you two. It's the quality time, it's the hobbies and interests you share that makes you feel things.

You weren't in front of Kenma's large TV tonight, you were plopped down on the bed with his blanket sitting comfortably over your bum and Kenma was outside the room somewhere doing something you absolutely didn't pay attention to when he was talking.

His room wasn't entirely messy like you expected. It was the typical room that has that kind of home-y vibes just to your taste. There was a stack of paperworks on his bedside table and on the floor along with pens and folders.

It was just like him to have this kind of room.

Kenma entered the room with a big microwavable container enough to feed the both of you, talking to someone on the phone which was between his shoulder and ear, “Yeah, we're eating. No, please. Shoyo—”

To your surprise, it wasn't ramen or those ready-to-eat meals from the convenience store with only one tablespoon of meat and a cup of rice, no. It was a real meal, a very healthy one, you think. Turns out that Hinata and Kuroo sent it to his house that afternoon because his two best friends liked to take care of him and now, you too since the container became bigger compared to what Kenma had received when you weren't together yet.

Kenma took a spoonful, hovered in front of you and waited for you to open your mouth before taking a bite for himself then went back to playing.

That was also one of the things you both just… did for each other. For some people, it might be romantic to give the first bite to your lover and for others, it might be a way to protect themselves, you know? To check if it was poisoned. Your hidden intentions weren't voiced out, just simply trusted each other.

A big celebratory YOU'VE REACHED THE END OF THE GAME appeared on the screen indicating that you both had completed the quests and can finally sleep.

Eye contact was very necessary every after games (if his eyebags looked horrible, you should probably check yourself out too) like how placing a kiss between your knuckles became a habit of his.

#kenma kozume #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma x y/n #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #timeskip kenma #kenma x gn!reader #haikyuu x gn!reader

177 notes · View notes

imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

What About Trust, Chapter 9

TITLE: What About Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 9 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal. RATING: M

Cleo wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous. She had never felt nervous about being around Loki at all before, so why now?

She paced back and fore in her flat again, making sure it was clean and tidy enough for a guest. But she also didn’t want him to think she always lived like this, so didn’t go completely nuts with putting away her books and vinyl’s, most of them were spilled out onto the floor around her record player in the corner of her living room.

‘God, I hope Luke doesn’t think less of me when he sees this place.’ She muttered to herself and nibbled on her nails.

His apartment had really surprised her with how large it was, it was stunning. She was obsessed with his den though. But in comparison, her flat was… small and boring. Though she loved it, or she thought she did until she saw Loki’s place.

But she was also thinking about the kisses they’d shared those three days ago… The development in their relationship just from that morning. If it could even be called a relationship? She wasn’t sure. She hadn’t seen him since then as she had been working, but she had tomorrow off so thought it was a good idea to invite him over for dinner so she could cook this time.

Now she was wishing she’d asked him out somewhere instead.

The buzzer going off alerted her that it was far too late to go back on now. But when she rushed over and answered through the comms, hearing his voice instantly put her at ease and made her feel fuzzy inside.

‘Come on up.’ She said happily as she pressed the unlock button for the door.

By the time she got to her door, Loki was just coming up the stairs. He surprised her by giving her a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates.

‘Aww, you big softie.’ She grinned up at him.

He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, making her heart flutter. ‘I can be soft when I want to be.’ He smirked, making her laugh.

‘Come on in.’ She stepped back and motioned him into her flat. ‘It’s uhm… Nothing special, especially compared to your place.’ She said sheepishly.

Loki shook his head. ‘Nonsense, darling. It’s perfect. So homely and cosy.’ He grinned as he looked around, loving how compact it was. It felt secure. The only reason he had a larger place by choice was to try and impress Thor, which did the trick.

While Cleo put the flowers into a vase, Loki took the time to have a nosey through her books and records. He also found a drawer that was filled with photographs from over the years, of her with family and friends. It made him smile to see.

‘Oh god, you found the dreaded drawer.’ She laughed as she brought a drink through from the kitchen for them both.

Loki grinned as he continued looking through some of them. He found some baby pictures and cooed over how adorable she was as a baby, while she just hid her face behind her hands the entire time. Then to her relief he finally joined her on the sofa. She had music playing, she’d set the record player up earlier before he arrived.

‘Who’s this playing?’ He asked curiously, rather enjoying the poppy type of music. It was annoyingly catchy he thought.

‘It’s Maroon 5. They’re one of my favourites.’ Cleo grinned. ‘Do you like them?’

Loki shrugged nonchalantly. ‘They’re alright, I suppose.’ Making her laugh.

‘I hope home-made pizza is ok for dinner. I’m not the best at cooking, but I have been told my pizzas are the bomb.’ Cleo said when the timer went off in the kitchen.

‘Sounds wonderful.’ Loki assured her, then a mischievous smile broke out. ‘I’m sure it won’t be any worse than the pizza from the takeaway in piccadilly gardens.’

‘Hey! That place is abysmal and should not be allowed to remain open.’ She growled at him as she headed through to the kitchen.

Loki chuckled. There was a place that was well known for how bad its pizzas were. How it was still even open was a complete mystery to everyone.

His eyes widened when he went through to the table to sit down and he saw the pizzas. They looked amazing, and smelled even better.

‘The tomatoes and onions are home grown.’ She said proudly as she passed Loki a plate and napkins.

‘I’m impressed. But let’s see what the taste test does.’ He teased her and cut a bit off to try.

She waited with bated breath to see if he would like it or not. His face was rather passive as he savoured the taste and evaluated it. But he went over the top, just taking his sweet time and humming now and then. Eventually he swallowed it, then made smacking noises as he continued to ‘taste’ it.

‘Now you’re just being a dick.’ Cleo grumbled at him, glaring across the table at him.

His face broke out into a large grin and he laughed. ‘I couldn’t resist… But wow, this is one of the best pizzas I’ve ever tasted, honestly. It’s delicious!’ He said and tucked straight into more.

Cleo beamed in delight as she started on hers as well.

‘I made the tomato sauce for it myself too, again with my own tomatoes.’

‘Very impressive indeed. But there is just one, little bad thing…’ He said before quickly eating a bit more. She felt her stomach drop. Oh no…

‘You are going to need to make me pizza on a daily basis now, because this is far too good for a one off.’

Cleo laughed and felt relieved that that was the only bad thing.

‘I’m not sure about daily, but I could certainly try weekly or fortnightly at least.’ She suggested.

‘Pizza date night sounds a delightful idea for a weekly occasion.’ Loki winked at her, making her blush.

‘Only if you do waffles weekly for me?’ She asked innocently and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

‘I’m sure that can be arranged.’ He purred. ‘Do I take it that means I can stay the night?’ He chanced asking, wolfing the last bit of his pizza down with a moan.

‘If you want to… of course you can. I don’t think I have a spare toothbrush though…’ She trailed off when Loki reached into his suit jacked and pulled out his toothbrush, a cheeky glint in his eye as she burst out laughing.

‘Ok, you’re prepared.’

‘Always.’ He grinned, then his eyes landed on her plate. She hadn’t touched her last bit for a few minutes. ‘Are you going to finish that?’

Cleo laughed again and slid the plate towards him. ‘Be my guest.’

After dinner and a glass of wine, Cleo took Loki down to her garden plot to show him what she was growing.

‘I thought you said it was a small plot you had?’ Loki nudged her playfully with his elbow.

‘It is!’

‘It’s quite substantial in my eyes.’

It was a good size. She had two rows of carrots, a row of onions and three rows of potatoes. Along with some strawberry plants and a raspberry bush. Surrounding the paved area where the greenhouse was, she had some potted flowers and borders with some perennial shrubs in it as well as some annual flowers at the front, it was really beautiful. The vegetable plants were covered with netting to stop the birds getting them. She had a small greenhouse where her tomato plants were growing, along with a few cucumber plants as well, that were slowly starting to grow.

‘What are these?’ Loki asked as he pointed to a tray with lots of tiny seedlings just sprouting.

‘Marigolds. They’re one of my favourite flowers. I bought a window pot for outside my bedroom, the sun always hits it for most of the day. So I plan to put them into there once they’re ready.’ She said excitedly.

‘Are these lava pebbles?’ He asked as he scooped up some of the light, small, pebbles that layered the shelves in the greenhouse.

‘Yep. They hold the heat really well and some moisture, they’re perfect for when everything is in early stages of growing.’ She nodded.

‘I really wouldn’t have taken you for much of a green thumb, being honest.’ He smirked. ‘But this is all incredible. My mother would’ve loved you.’ He blurted out.

‘Did she enjoy gardening?’ Cleo asked as she leaned against the shelf, feeling warmed inside that he thought his mother would love her.

‘She did enjoy tending to her gardens.’ Loki nodded and smiled fondly as he thought about her. ‘Especially flowers… You would’ve loved our gardens we had at home.’

Cleo reached over and lightly touched his hand with the tips of his fingers. He looked down and smiled as they tangled their fingers together.

‘She sounds like she was a lovely woman. You speak really fondly of her, it’s really nice.’ Cleo said quietly.

Loki felt a little tight chested, but he focused on Cleo. ‘I… I really miss her.’ He admitted. ‘I didn’t exactly do her proud when she was alive.’

Cleo frowned and squeezed his hand. ‘She would be proud of you now. Owning your own bookshop, with an amazing apartment.’

Loki smiled at the way she was trying to make him feel better. He wished he could open up to her properly, that she knew…

He turned more towards Cleo and tucked her hair back behind her ear, then he cupped her cheek and leaned down to kiss her. Their lips moulded together slowly, tasting each other. Loki slipped his other hand around her to her lower back, he gently pressed her into him so their bodies were flush together.

When they parted, she was rather flustered and so was he. He rubbed his thumb up and down her cheek and smiled. Then she started laughing a bit.

‘What is it?’ He raised an eyebrow.

‘It’s just… You’re too tall. I was on my tiptoes there and still could barely reach you, like out of a movie.’

Loki chuckled and simply kissed her again. Making sure to lean down even further this time for her.

They went back inside after sharing a few more kisses in the greenhouse. Loki plucked one of her books from the shelf and sat down on the sofa to read aloud to her. She loved his voice, so was in utter heaven when she lay down with her head on his lap. He couldn’t resist stroking her hair while he read, it was such a peaceful position to be in with the woman he wanted to be with. Neither of them could imagine a better evening, or better company.

Cleo was definitely starting to see a real soft side to him, that she had known was there from the start really. Though she would always love his mischievous and snarky attitude, too.

The two of them stayed up quite late, reading books and listening to music. Talking about some songs and the meanings of certain lyrics. Bickering playfully about some of it, too. When it was time for bed, Loki assumed he would be on the sofa.

But when Cleo got into her pjs she went to the living room and saw Loki in his boxers, sorting out the cushions on the sofa. Her breath was caught momentarily as she looked at his body, she knew he was strong but she never realised how fit he truly was under his clothes.

‘Uhm… You uh, can share my bed if you want? There should be room. The sofa isn’t exactly the comfiest.’ She said a little shyly.

‘Are you sure?’ Loki asked, surprised but pleased she asked.

‘Of course.’ She nodded a bit over eagerly, making him grin as he walked over to her. ‘Though you are warned, I am a fidget while I sleep. So I am not responsible for any injuries that may occur to you during the night from possible kicks or punches.’ She said as she headed into the bedroom and got into bed.

Loki threw his head back with laughter as he followed her though. ‘Well, there is only one solution for that.’ He growled and leapt into bed with her under the quilt, she started giggling when he grabbed her and pulled her back flush against his front and he playfully, and lightly, bit her shoulder.

‘I will just keep you locked in my arms for the night… For my own safety, of course.’ He hummed and nuzzled his nose into her hair.

‘Of course, for safety.’ She giggled. Though she had a feeling that he was big on affection, it seemed, once he got to know and trust someone. And she certainly didn’t mind that, at all.

She went to sleep with the biggest smile on her face as she was encased in his protective and warm embrace. Though it took a little while for her racing heart to calm down enough for her to sleep.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #what about trust #chapter 9 #fanficshiddles

30 notes · View notes

thedisneychef · 11 months

Text

Maple Creme Brulee Cupcakes: A Disney-Inspired Recipe

If you're a fan of creamy desserts and sweet flavors, you may have heard of Maple Creme Brulee Cupcakes, a delicious and decadent dessert that combines the creamy texture of creme brulee with the sweet and comforting flavor of maple syrup. Drawing from our experience, we can attest that Maple Creme Brulee Cupcakes are a unique and indulgent dessert that's perfect for any special occasion. The combination of fluffy cupcakes, creamy custard, and a crunchy caramelized sugar topping creates a complex and satisfying flavor that's sure to impress any dinner guest. Whether you're a seasoned baker or a beginner, there are plenty of Maple Creme Brulee Cupcakes recipes available that are easy to follow and use simple ingredients that can be found at most grocery stores. In this article, we'll take a closer look at Maple Creme Brulee Cupcakes, their variations, and some tips and tricks to help you create a perfect batch every time. I know that I just did one in my “They Should Make This at Disney” series, but when I came across this one, I couldn’t help myself. I had to make it. I found the recipe that inspired this dish on Pinterest… More Delicious Recipes You Will Love: - Sweet Potato Pancakes Recipes – Boatwright Dining Hall - Coconut Lime Icebox Fudge: A Disney-Inspired Treat - Disney-Inspired Spinach Pesto and Lemon Pasta Recipe Because Pinterest is the single greatest time wasting website of all time… And then I adapted it to be more Disney. Creme Brulee is one of those Disney dessert staples that people obsess over. I’ve seem creme brulee crawls on various food blogs, people pleading on forums for the location of the most insanely delicious creme brulee, people mourning the retirement of a creme brulee from various restaurants… The Disney creme brulee is practically a dining institution. Just a quick Google search and I’ve found 21 different creme brulee offerings from around the World. I have to admit, it’s I don’t even think I need to talk up the Disney cupcake. I mean, seriously, everybody knows that Disney does the best cupcakes in the world. My inspiration was Le Cellier… If Le Cellier went the route of Be Our Guest and served high-end cupcakes. My favorite creme brulee on property has to be the maple version at Le Cellier, so it seemed only natural (for me at least) to blend that with a cupcake. Granted, Le Cellier doesn’t use creme brulee mix, but hey… I’ve never made the stuff before. I’ve got to start somewhere, and I don’t feel courageous enough to try a creme brulee from scratch yet. To say these came out stunning is an absolute understatement. They were pretty easy to make, the result was so gorgeous to look at, and the taste was out-of-this-world. This is, for sure, the grown up version of cupcakes that I dare say cupcake haters may even like. I have to admit, I came so, so, so close to garnishing this with a piece of brown sugar bacon… But I decided against it. However, if I were to do it over again (and who am I kidding, I totally will), I’d add the bacon. I think that would make this such an incredible, unique, dessert that it’d be impossible to not be addicted to. And the next time I make it, I’m going to overfill the creme brulee part a bit. When I broiled the tops to get that nice, crunchy topping, the tops of the cupcake got very browned. Surprisingly, it didn’t taste burned at all, but it made the crystallization process a bit touchy for my taste… This is one of those occasions where I wished I had a culinary torch. May I also say, I was really pumped that I am finally able to use my amazingly awesome cupcake accessories. My Dad got me a cupcake corer for Christmas and I’ve been dying to use it, but I haven’t had a chance to make anything where I’d use it. Considering that cupcakes are one of my favorite things ever and I used to make them pretty much every week, I lay the blame for this pretty squarely on the fact that I’m trying to diet and train for the Wine and Dine Half Marathon. I’m fairly sure that even the most liberal of runner’s diets don’t include cupcakes. Conclusion In conclusion, Maple Creme Brulee Cupcakes are a delicious and decadent dessert that's perfect for any special occasion. Drawing from our experience, we can attest that the combination of fluffy cupcakes, creamy custard, and a crunchy caramelized sugar topping creates a unique and satisfying flavor that's sure to impress any dinner guest. With the help of easy-to-follow recipes and simple ingredients that can be found at most grocery stores, anyone can create a perfect batch of Maple Creme Brulee Cupcakes in the comfort of their own home. Plus, there are plenty of variations and additions that can be made to the basic recipe to customize it to your taste preferences. Whether you're a fan of creamy desserts or just looking for a new and unique dessert to try, we highly recommend giving Maple Creme Brulee Cupcakes a chance. In addition to the delicious food and recipes, Disney World is also known for its unique dining experiences, such as character dining and themed restaurants. Whether you want to have breakfast with Mickey Mouse, dine in a replica of a sci-fi drive-in theater at Hollywood Studios, or enjoy a meal with an ocean view at the Coral Reef Restaurant in Epcot, there's something for everyone. And with the help of Recipes Today and the How to Make category, you can even recreate some of these magical dining experiences in your own home. So why not start planning your next Disney-inspired meal or dining experience today? Read the full article

0 notes

bbrandy2002 · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday Burnsy!

The Country AU -- I'm Gonna Live Where The Green Grass Grows

Pairing: Drake x Alyssa, Liam x Riley, and a whole host of other TRR characters.

A/N: This was a silly little idea I had months ago for an AU built around the places and people where I grew up. I never had plans to actually write it, but I mentioned it to Burns, and well ... she wanted it lol so here we are. And she’s already read half of this and is the one who made the mood board for it and the song inspo hahaha. Thank you to @mskaneko for the edits of our OTP’s, and @charlotteg234 for pre-reading the first half of this.

Trigger warning: Gun usage, hunting, mild language ... I think that’s it

@burnsoslow

My dearest friend, when I think back at where we were one year ago, I can’t help but be reminded of the vastly different world we live in now. On February 5, 2020, there was no covid keeping us sheltered and fearful, families were complete, jobs were stable, and so many of the things we worried about then simply pale in comparison to now, Life wasn’t so bad. But here we are with all these new changes and mindsets. Through it all, one thing remained consistent: YOU. You have been my strength, my rock, the anchor that grounded me. We have cried together, laughed a lot together, worried for each other, and celebrated those small victories that were important to each other. And I get so happy when someone comments about how much they love the friendship between Riley and Alyssa because it's the most real part of Fearless. If anyone ever wanted to know what we’re like, it's all written out in that story. I’ve got your back, and you have mine. You’re my best friend and I just love the hell out of ya! I hope your birthday is amazing and that this fic is everything you wanted for this AU.

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

On Sunday mornings in southern Georgia, you did one of two things: You woke up early for church services or woke up late to watch NFL football.

Some people figured out a long time ago how to do both.

Sitting in the back pew of the First Cordonian Church of Everlasting Peace, Alyssa Walker sat quietly with the sweetest southern belle smile, nodding her head along to the beautiful words spoken during Pastor Hakim’s sermon and hiding a pair of earbuds lodged in each ear.

She and her husband, Drake, had laid claim to the pew when they were teens trying to sneak a kiss or two during prayers. After ten years of marriage, they no longer needed to sneak kisses but stayed in that same seat, believing the biggest sinners should stay as far away from the minister as possible. Why be the barrier that may prevent the spirit from reaching the rest of the congregation? The couple felt it was the least they could do.

They were actually pretty good folks and well respected in their community. Alyssa had taught first grade for eight years at the local elementary school, where her two children, nine-year-old Audrey and six-year-old Patrick, also attended. Her best friend since third grade, Riley, was the art teacher there.

Drake worked nearby as the lead mechanic at Rys and Sons Chevrolet out on North Ramsford Avenue. Constantine had owned the auto dealership for 35 years before passing it down to his sons, Leo and Liam, when he ran for and became the town's mayor. Leo peaced out, heading to South Florida, while Liam took on the sole responsibility of ownership himself.

And while most people in this sleepy little town of Cordonia were Falcons fanatics, Alyssa grew up rooting for the team where her parents were born and raised before settling in Georgia as newlywed lawyers: The Chicago Bears.

With the game against the Packers blaring into her ear, she kept a keen eye on the rest of her fellow parishioners. When they clapped, she clapped. When they sang, she sang. She raised her hands in hallelujahs when they did. She had learned to read lips and could “Amen” and “Praise God” right on cue with the rest of them. All the while, she sat in contentment, listening to her weekly football games.

“The score with 14 seconds left in the second quarter is Chicago -- 14, Green Bay -- 17. The Bears have the ball on the 5-yard line. It’s third and goal. If Trubisky can score here, they’ll go into the locker room at halftime with a lead for the first time in this game, or possibly tie it all up with a field goal after this down. This is a huge, HUGE play, Jim ...”

Alyssa twined her fingers together and lowered her forehead onto them as she waited with bated breath for the announcer to call the play-by-play. As far as anyone else knew, she was praying fervently for the Hebrews crossing the parted Red Sea away from Pharoah's army that the pastor was chronicling.

“And here comes the snap. Trubisky backs up. He tosses to Robinson in the end zone. OHHH! So close… batted away by Alexender …”

“JESUS!” Alyssa yelled out in anger. With earbuds in, she didn’t realize how loudly that just came out of her mouth. Drake nudged her in the thigh. She glanced over at him for a second before he nodded to the 123 pairs of eyes that had all turned at once in her direction. It instantly dawned on her that everyone in the congregation heard the outburst.

Feeling the color drain from her face, Alyssa placed a hand over her chest and addressed, “I am soooo into this sermon, Hakim. Woohoo! Go, Jesus, go!” She pumped her fist in the air like she was rooting him on.

Drake dropped his face onto Patrick’s shoulder, who was sitting on his lap, to cover the incessant laughter that threatened to spill out of him. He was doing a terrible job of it, as a momentary burst of muffled snickers could be heard through the sound of the game playing in Alyssa’s ear. Her husband was nothing but a big kid himself -- she wouldn’t change that for anything.

“Mommy,” Audrey whispered next to her. “It’s about Moses. Not Jesus.”

Alyssa smiled, patting her daughter’s knee. “Same thing, baby. They both performed miracles.” She cut her eyes to the phone hidden under the cardigan draped across her thighs. “And the Bears need a miracle right now, guys,” she muttered, “Part those shithead Packer’s defensive line, Lord. It’s time to help my Bears get to the promised land.”

“Going for it on fourth down, Trubisky drops back. The Packer defense is putting a lot of pressure on the Bear’s offensive line. Every man is covered in the end zone. He has no one to throw to, Jim. They’re running out of time. Four seconds left. And, NOOO, they sack Trubisky on the 10-yard line … WAIT THE BALL IS LOOSE … THE BALL IS LOOSE ... he fumbled the ball. The Packers are scrambling to get it. There are green and white jerseys all over that ball. BUT LOOK … Green Bay’s Klark picks it up. He’s running the other way … and he just slipped … he just slipped, and the football fell right into the hands of Chicago’s Robinson --”

Alyssa grabbed Drake’s thigh, her fingers digging deeply with hope and panic. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” her stressed words weren’t audible to the crowd, but they were speaking volumes in her heart.

“--Robinson’s on the 20, now 15, he’s sweeping past the defense to the 10 -- 5 -- TOUCHDOWN, CHICAGO!!!”

"FUCK YES!" Alyssa jumped up, her arms outstretched in a V shape. “Hallelujah. Holy shit. Thank ya, Jesus.” She let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling nothing short of elated, not concerned in the slightest by the heads that twisted around again.

Hakim stood slack-jawed from the raised platform for a moment, his tallish physique slouching on the pulpit, before adjusting the microphone and clearing his throat deeply. "I'm certainly glad, Sister Alyssa is ... feeling the spirit this morning."

"I am feeling it, Brother Hakim," She shook her head profusely. "I. Am. Feeling it." She shot him a dimpled grin.

Drake snorted loudly, covering his face with one hand and grabbing the side of her dress to pull her back down with the other.

They turned to each other, neither one able to control the snickering and shaking of their bodies. Drake lifted a sleeping Patrick over his shoulder while Alyssa grabbed Audrey's hand; the Walker couple decided they were too immature for church this morning.

They laughed all the way to the parking lot.

"It's never a dull moment with you, baby girl," Drake chuckled, turning over the ignition.

"You know me …” She blew on her nails before rubbing them against her chest. “... just doing the Lord's work."

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

It was customary in Cordonia for families to gather together each week for a big supper after church.

The Walkers traditionally took turns hosting with Liam and Riley, and Constantine and Regina. This week's meal was at the elder Ryses.

Sitting down at the dining room table, everyone licked their chops, hungry and ready to dig into all the made-from-scratch southern goodness Mrs. Regina had prepared: Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, green beans with hamhock, corn-on-the-cob, deviled eggs, biscuits, sweet tea, and coffee. It was all accompanied by two containers of broccoli salad, Alyssa picked up from the Piggly Wiggly deli after church, and Riley's lopsided carrot cake.

There was always a lot of food, a lot of love, and what would it be in a small town without a little gossip here and there.

"Regina, you've outdone yourself on this meal," Liam raved while placing his five-month-old son in a high chair and fastening the clasps. "If it tastes as good as it smells, we're all in for a big treat."

Everyone agreed as she sat down, Constantine pushing her chair in with a peck to the top of her head. "Thank you, Liam." She looked up at her husband with a sincere smile, rubbing his arm. "Only the best for our family."

She meant every word of that as she and Constantine glanced around the table at all the cheerful faces of the people they loved most — that included Drake and his family.

Drake's father had been the sheriff for many years before his untimely death, while the younger Walker was a teen. Connie had never met a braver, more hard-working man than Jackson; the now mayor stepped in after that death to be the father figure in Drake's life. Drake was already best friends with Liam, and over time, the family just considered him one of their own. Drake and Alyssa's children referred to them as Mamaw and Papaw Rys.

As everyone settled in and passed the food around the table, the doorbell rang; 7-year-old Ellie -- Liam and Riley's oldest -- jumped up to answer it. With everyone focused on getting their helpings, Riley leaned over and whispered to Alyssa, "Any more scoop on Savannah?"

Alyssa passed the potatoes to her and answered in a hushed tone, "I drove past her house yesterday ... Chuck was there. His big rig was backed right up into the driveway. They're not even trying to hide it anymore."

"I knew it." Riley slapped a scoop of potatoes onto her plate, passing them across to Liam. "When does Bertrand get back from that Bankers Convention in Atlanta?"

"I think Max said on Tuesday. And I guarn-damn-tee, Chuck will be there until then."

"Of course he will. Have you told Drake yet?"

Alyssa shook her head, peeking over at her husband, who was in hog heaven, dousing everything on his plate with white gravy, blissfully unaware of their idle chitchat. She turned back to Riley. "Not yet. You know how protective he is. I'll need to hide the gun cabinet keys when he finds out ... if he finds out. You remember how upset he got when Bianca got caught at the Love's Truck Stop with Landon Ebrim over the summer. His mama can do what she wants, but not with a married man."

Riley agreed with a nod before taking a sip and swallowing her sweet tea. "Ya know, I've never seen sweet Emmaline that angry."

"Yeah, me neither. She sure whopped ass that day." They both giggled lightly. "Landon's dentures flew clean across that truck lot."

"I saw her the other day at the Food Lion, grinnin' like a baked possum. Got that ol' dog for everything he had."

Alyssa huffed, "Cept' his nuts."

Ellie ran back in and hopped in her chair. "Miss Olivia is here!"

Alyssa stiffened, clutching her fork a little tighter before letting out a faint groan. Not that she didn't like the Assistant Principal of Cordonia Elementary -- she was her boss, after all, and they grew up together -- she could just be a little off-putting, sometimes with her treatment of Drake. In light of Olivia's recent divorce, she had, however, started directing most of her scorn on her ex-husband, Anton.

Everyone greeted Olivia as she strolled in behind the youngster, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it on a counter with her purse. "I smelled your chicken and taters all the way from Lythikos Drive, Regina. You know how I love a good rib stickin' meal."

"Is Travis and Waylon here?" Patrick piped up eagerly from the children's table, hoping to have some boys to play with rather than the three little girls who kept ganging up on him.

Olivia pulled out a chair and started loading her plate down. "They're with their daddy this weekend, sugar. I'll tell them you asked about them."

Drake lifted his coffee mug, not making eye contact with anyone. "Speaking of ... I saw Anton yesterday at the Dollar Tree ... with someone." He smirked into his drink. While everyone else knew who and was trying to avoid the elephant in the room, he owed her for years of squabble.

"Who? Madeleine?" Olivia spat, adding heaping spoonfuls of sugar to her already overly sweetened tea. "Bless her rotten heart, he was seeing her before our break up. Moved in with her right after the divorce was final, so I hope she's enjoyed cookin' and cleanin' after my youngins' all weekend, cause she's gonna be doin it a hell of a lot more now that she got herself fired."

Madeleine was a bank teller in the drive-thru at First Cordonia and also Leo's ex-fiancee.

"Madeleine got fired?" Alyssa asked in surprise. "She's been there for years."

The redhead swirled the sugar around in her tea with a spoon before licking it off and continuing, "Mmm-hmm. Bertrand caught her on video, stuffing her gaudy drawers into the vacuum tubes at the bank and sending them to that bastard when he drove through to make a deposit. He was making deposits alright. Right between her scrawny, cankled ass --"

"Olivia!" Liam quickly interjected, knowing once she got going, it would likely turn R-rated with several little ears listening. "I'm dying to hear how the Christmas Festival for next Saturday is coming along." He shot a look across the table at Drake for getting her worked up. Drake simply grinned.

By late afternoon, supper had been eaten, dishes cleaned, and pants unbuttoned. After a couple of hours of chatting on the back porch and watching the kids play, the two younger couples packed up leftovers Regina insisted they take home and were ready to hit the road.

Liam and Riley lived next door and walked out with the Walkers who were making their way to the Tahoe parked on the street.

Alyssa bounced and cooed over baby Jacob before handing him back to Riley and getting into the vehicle's passenger seat.

Liam was leaning into the driver's side window, having a casual discussion with Drake about the opening day of deer season next Saturday and asking what time he wanted to head out.

Alyssa was half-listening and half-working the stereo when an idea popped into her head. "You know what would be fun?” Both men stopped talking and glanced over at her. “We should all go?”

Drake knit his brows. “Go where?

“Hunting. We can make it a double date. You and me, Riley and Liam. The great outdoors. Some quality time together. I’ll even make snacks for everyone. It’ll be fun,” her voice was chipper. She was excited about it.

She was also deadly serious.

So were the dubious looks Drake and Liam gave each other over the thought of taking their wives on the most important hunting event of their year. Not that either didn't enjoy spending time with their significant others, but hunting was a whole different world. It was a one-person sport where you spent the day away from reality and responsibilities and just enjoying the great outdoors —a place to be alone and experience the thrill of a good hunt.

“Guys, I’m serious. We go fishing together, and I’ve shot targets plenty of times. I really wanna go hunting with you. Riley wants to go too, don't you?” She cast an inquisitive glance out her window at Riley, who glared back with the biggest what-the-fuck look she'd ever made. “See, she wants to go too.”

“Baby,” Drake began softly, giving her knee light squeezes. “I don’t mind taking you, but this is opening day. We’ll be in the woods for hours, in the cold. It’s not really what someone would consider a ‘date.’ And we’re going to the Festival that night … we’ll get a chance to spend time together there.”

She held his gaze as her lips began to quiver. “I understand. You .. you need time to be away from me, and it was a dumb idea anyway --”

“No,” Drake cut in. His heart plummeted from the sadness in her voice and eyes. “That’s not it at all. I love spending time with you. And if you really want to do this, then … let’s do this.”

“Really? We can go together?” Drake nodded with a smile before she squealed in his ear and pulled him into a tight hug. “I can’t wait! Thank you!”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Liam let out a heavy breath as he looked over at Riley -- The woman he knew would not be a fun hunting partner next week -- still standing on the sidewalk, appearing like she might faint. “Yeah ... I can’t wait either.”

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

Saturday. 5:15 a.m. The cellphone alarm on Drake’s bedside table let off a series of rhythmic beeping sounds and vibrations.

The alarm wasn’t needed. The man had been awake for hours, listening to his wife's gentle snores; the anticipation of bringing home at least a 12-pointer keeping him from falling back asleep.

Letting out a ferocious yawn and a hearty stretch, he picked up his phone to dismiss the alarm and rolled over to wake Alyssa.

With her ass perfectly curled into the space between his stomach and thighs, his hands settled on her curvy hip, jostling her slightly. “Time to get up, my little peach. We gotta get crackin’ before all the good deer are gone.”

“I just need one more hour, okay? Thanks,” she protested with a drowsy murmur, pulling the pillow over her head.

Drake chuckled, rubbing soothing circles over her back. “No. We have to get up now. We’re wasting time, sleepyhead. Unless … you don’t want to go.”

Alyssa’s heavy eyes stung as she tried to peel them open one at a time. “No, I wanna … go ...” she trailed. Her eyes slowly shut again, and she was out.

On a day like today, Drake was usually up and ready in ten minutes. Once he could finally get his wife out of bed, dressed, and back awake again from where she fell asleep on the toilet, it was close to 45 minutes.

Maxwell, who was also a childhood friend and the music teacher where Alyssa taught, rented the room over their garage. He agreed to come down that morning and watch the kids while the pair spent their morning in the woods. Bianca used to help out in that regard, but the kids complained she slept the whole time, and Alyssa was pretty sure her mother-in-law smoked pot around them.

Drake loaded up the truck, placing his rifle and a smaller .22 caliber for Alyssa behind the seat. Dragging herself slowly to the vehicle, the night sky still pitch black and her breath turning to thick vapors in the frigid air, she listlessly tossed a Taylor Swift tote bag on the floorboard and climbed in.

Drake looked at his phone after everything was packed up to see if Liam had sent a message about being late. It was unusual for him not to be there already. Typically, his best friend was up and at his house before Drake was even ready. He sent off a quick text to check.

Drake: Where you at, man?

Liam: Running late. Riley had to put makeup on and do her hair.

Liam: I’m having so much fun already 😑

Liam: snark

Drake: Lyss couldn’t decide which gloves looked the best with her orange vest. I guess she wants to impress the deer before she kills them.

Liam: We’re not catching deer today. We’ll be lucky if we catch a cold. Be there in 10.

Twenty minutes later, Liam’s gray Silverado pulled onto the Walker’s gravel drive. Riley had wanted biscuits and gravy from McDonald's, and she had to run back inside to pee, so that set them back. But, with everyone now there, they were finally ready to head out.

Just down the rural road from where Drake and Alyssa lived, the current sheriff of Cordonia, Bastien, owned several acres of unoccupied land that he used for recreation. He had been a close friend of Drake’s dad and agreed to let Drake and Liam hunt and fish on his property whenever they wanted.

Turning onto the dirt road and opening the gate, the four friends arrived at their spot just as dawn was breaking.

No one spoke much as they trekked through the mud, sticks, and brittle fall leaves that littered the path to the deer stands. Riley and Alyssa were too exhausted to say anything. Drake and Liam just weren’t used to talking at all.

"Riley, love,” Liam whispered softly. “Can you watch how you’re walking? The noise is going to scare the deer away.”

“I can’t help it if … " She reacted loudly in frustration before Liam placed a finger over his lips, and she resumed speaking more quietly. “I can’t help it if there're leaves everywhere. I’m walking on them as delicately as possible.”

“How much further? I think my toes are frozen and I need coffee.” Alyssa bemoaned while walking on the balls of her heels. Drake was basically dragging her sluggish body by the hand. Her eyes were still drooping from exhaustion with every careful step.

“Just over yonder of that fence row is our stand.” He pointed out.

Alyssa aimed her flashlight around the woods in several spots. "And where do we pee at?"

Liam lightly snorted as Drake answered matter-of-factly. "Just over yonder of that fence row below our stand."

"Oh ... " her tone was small and apprehensive, "... I guess that's ... okay." She glanced back timidly at Liam, who was following close behind.

He shielded his eyes from the beam of her flashlight in his face and frowned. "I'm not going to watch you pee, Alyssa."

Riley gasped, "Eww! I don't want Drake watching me pee either."

"Shhhhh." Liam was quick to remind her again of the volume of her voice.

"Stop, shushing me, Liam! Those deer don't know I'm out here."

Drake grunted, then whipped around to face the three of them. "Would you keep your voices down? No one's watching anybody take a piss," he whisper-yelled. "Lyssa and I will be at least a hundred yards away from ya'll. Riley, I promise you can piss your little heart out, and I won't see it."

"We're separating?" Alyssa asked wistfully. "What if I need to ask Riley something, and she can't hear me yelling across to her?"

"You'll just have to ask her when we're done, baby girl. And ... please don't yell questions to her while we're out here. Low voices."

They continued on with their noisy hike.

"Having so much fun," Liam grumbled to himself.

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

Liam and Riley headed to their tree stand as Drake helped Alyssa climb up the ladder to theirs.

The stand and ladder were made of plywood -- chipped and faded from years of exposure to the elements -- and were attached at the apex to an oak tree about twenty feet off the ground. At the top it had enough room to take a step onto, with a wooden seat just wide enough to accommodate them. One plank rail came out on both sides.

Alyssa plopped down onto the seat, clutching her tote bag of goodies on her lap. She lifted the brim of the orange beanie she borrowed from Drake -- that smelled of animal carcass and gun powder -- above her eyes and peered out to the wilderness spread monumentally below. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the fresh, dewy air, taking in the sounds of twittering birds, branches clashing from the nearby squirrel frolicking on them, and the rippling of a bubbling brook streaming down the hill.

A pleasant warmth overcame her as Drake's much larger body sat down next to her and protected her from the frosty wind blowing in from his side.

Alyssa wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into him. "I can see why you like this so much. It's so quiet and peaceful ... look how purty it is out here, Drake. It's just real purty, isn't it?"

Working diligently on getting their gear together, he stopped briefly to look out; affection glowed in his eyes. “It sure is, darlin’. Almost as purty as you ... and notice I said 'almost.'” He winked, and Alyssa blushed, feeling that same love trickling up inside her she'd had since they were teenagers. Drake could charm the pants off a chipmunk, but she was thankful he only used that gift on her.

"Sooo ... " She drawled in her thick Southern accent. "How long will it be before the deer start coming out?"

Drake drew the barrel of her gun back after loading it with shells and explained, "Don't know. It could be minutes. It could be a few hours. Just whenever they head this way, I reckon."

Perplexed, Alyssa nodded slowly. "A few hours? I s'pose that's okay. What do you do while you're waiting?"

He shrugged, passing a gun to her. "You just ... sit here."

"You just sit here and do what?"

Drake leaned over to kiss into her orange cap and replied, "Wait."

"Wait." She acknowledged. "I can do that. I'll just sit here ... and wait."

Several minutes had passed, and Alyssa was already bored with listening to nature, Drake's gurgling stomach, and sitting quietly with nothing to do. Every so often, a shotgun blast was heard in the distance, signifying either someone out there had gotten their prize or Riley had driven Liam insane. It was the only break from the monotony that came with the boredom of sitting in a tree for who knew how many hours.

Letting out a giant exhale that caught Drake's attention, she propped her rifle against the railing and pulled the cloth tote that was sitting between her boots into her lap. Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out her phone and began thumbing out a message.

Drake furrowed his brows and asked, "What're you doin'?"

"Just texting Riley,' she answered dismissively. He shook his head and leaned it back against the tree while she formulated her message.

Alyssa: You still alive over there? How's it going?

Riley: This is boring as shit.

Riley: And now my texting is apparently scaring away the deer. F the deer Liam. F all the damn deer!!!! What were you thinking, Lyss?

Alyssa: I was thinking we could spend quality time with our husbands. The men we love and cherish with all of our hearts. I’m having a great time with Drake so far 😍😘

Alyssa: And no one twisted your arm to come bitch.

Riley: Liam's just staring through binoculars. He hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes except to tell me to point the gun away from him or to quit moving. Let’s go get our hair did at Adelaide's.”

Alyssa: OHHH Yes! And get Chinese food ... CRAB RANGOONS!! I'll have Drake drive us back. Girls Day Out. Love you!

Drake let out a belch and blew it away when Alyssa turned to him with a dazzling smile and a sparkle in her blues. "Can you drive Riley and me back to the house?"

"What? Right now?" he shrieked. She answered him with a cheerful nod. "What happened to all that talk about wanting to spend quality time with me?"

"I still do. But ... we're just sitting here, not really doing anything. I could be getting my hair done for tonight's festival. I also have a ton of laundry to do, some papers to grade, and I’m supposed to be making the Devereaux’s famous peach cobbler for the raffle. If I leave now, I’ll have time to do all of it.” Alyssa knew she probably wouldn’t do half of that, and Audrey would likely make the cobbler, but it made the situation sound more urgent.

"It's opening day, baby. I'm not leaving this spot." He reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out his keys. "If you and Riley wanna take my truck, I'll ride back with Liam."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I don't know my way back to the truck. And I sure as hell know Riley doesn't."

He smirked, stuffing his keys back. "Then you're stuck."

The next hour was brutal. Alyssa texted Riley to alleviate the boredom for several minutes, but there had been no responses in a long while. She wasn't aware that Liam tossed her friend's phone over the hill when she started making TikTok videos of her plight -- Liam took his deer hunting seriously: No noise meant no noise.

Drake wasn't much better; he was quieter than his usual self. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could at least talk. An occasional whispered word was not going to cut it.

Alyssa sighed heavily. She wiggled around for comfort. She unwrapped a Nutty Bar. She crunched. She opened a can of pop. She tapped her fingers. She flipped the pages of a magazine. Each one got that look from Drake that let her know it was too loud. If she ever made it out of there, she planned to jabber and stir until she couldn't do it anymore.

After another half-hour of stewing quietly in her thoughts without a sign of a deer anywhere, Alyssa decided now was the time to finally just talk.

"Do you ever think about having another baby?" It was a topic that had been on her mind for a while. To her surprise, Drake didn't give her a look or even freak out the way she anticipated. Despite his own rule of silence, he even responded in kind.

"Yeah. Kind of a lot."

Her right brow darted up. "Really?"

Drake took a breath and shifted the gun across his lap. "I mean, of course. It's always been my dream to settle down and have a bunch of youngin's with the woman I love." He studied her lit-up face; he'd swore she'd gotten more beautiful with age. That's why he hesitated when he added, "But ... "

Her shoulders slumped at his words, and a deflated look impressed upon her face. "But ... " The word barely made it past her lips.

Drake reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. "Lyssa, we have so much going on right now. You're working on National Boards, Audrey has piano recitals and basketball, Patrick has peewee football and Boy Scouts. We barely have time -- except for right now -- for just ... us. I'm not saying,"never"... just that right now ... isn't a good time."

"I understand that, but ... we've always made it work. And don't you miss those tiny little fingers wrapped around yours? And the way they smell fresh out of the bath? And those chubby little cheeks pressed up against yours?" she goaded.

“Of course I do. I remember the first time I held Audrey and PJ in my arms -- there’s just no better feeling in the world than ...to look down ... " Drake paused as his voice cracked, and his brown eyes glistened like glass. " ... and to see someone so small ..." When she sniffled, it made it that much harder for him to speak. "... that you created with the woman you've loved since you were 16 years old. But I like who they are now, and watching them grow, and doing things with them ... And, well ... there’s no shit clean up.”

“You obviously haven’t washed Patrick's clothes in a while,” Alyssa retorted with a chuckle that brought out one in her husband.

"I’ll have to talk to him about that." He gazed deeper into her eyes. "But I do love you ... more than all the peaches in Georgia, Lyssa Claire.”

Alyssa smiled.“That’s what you said to me when you promised to marry me when we were teens.”

Drake returned his own smile. “I did. I remember like it was yesterday too. Sitting in your parent’s basement, watching Friends reruns, eating pizza, making out. And hell, it’s still as true today as it was then. Somehow, even more."

Their cold lips parted and joined halfway for a fervent kiss, with Drake's hand meandering around the subtle groove at the junction of her waist. Just as it became more intense and desirous, a rustling of twigs off in a nearby thicket caught Drake's ear, and he broke away, his eyes scoping the perimeter. Alyssa wasn't offended, she heard it too, and her heart raced with excitement.

Lifting the binoculars hanging from his neck, he spotted two deer eating from a blackberry patch some thirty yards away. He pointed in their direction; Alyssa gave a quick thumbs up, letting him know she saw them too.

Drake carefully lifted the rifle resting in his lap as Alyssa leaned forward and squinted to get a better visual. "Is that a buck and a doe?" she whispered, not moving an inch.

"Sure as fuck is." He mounted the stock of his .30 caliber, Winchester, just beneath his collarbone; the rush of this moment coursed ravenously through his body. He lined up the scope and placed a steady finger on the trigger -- his thumb pulling the hammer back.

“Wait.” Alyssa loudly whispered. “You can’t shoot him.”

"I'm gonna. Better cover your ears."

"No, Drake. There's a doe with him. What if that's his wife? You can't just leave her all alone without him."

"Lyss, this is the whole reason we're out here."

"So you can make a widow out of her?"

"No ... so I can make deer chili out of him."

Alyssa's mouth flew open. "No. No. RUUUUUUUUN! RUUUUUUN!"

Drake pulled his face away from the scope and fired her a look. "What the hell are you doing? They're getting away!"

She tilted her chin boldly. "I don't care. That was her husband, and they're in love, and you can't take that away from them. I would be so sad if we were just out eating berries and someone came up and shot you, ALL SO THEY COULD EAT DRAKE CHILI!".

Drake dropped his head. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. As long as he’d known her, she was stubborn, and at that moment, she was dead set in believing those two deer were living out the greatest romance of all time. Nothing he said or did would change her mind on that.

A thought emerged while he attempted to comprehend the logic of the situation. Those deer ran off in the direction where Liam was set up. Maybe if he could give his friend a heads up, it was still possible at least someone would leave those woods with the prized buck.

Turning his back from Alyssa so that she couldn't stop him, he pulled a small walkie-talkie from his pocket and radioed Liam. Alyssa knew what was up and jumped to her feet, thrusting her arms around him in an attempt to stop the travesty.

"You can't do this, Drake," she hollered, "That’s her soulmate. And why don't I have a walkie-talkie? I want a walkie-talkie!"

While seated next to Liam, Riley was swinging her legs, purposefully making the soles of her boots scrape against the platform. Liam tried to ignore her; maybe he had been a little too uptight about every little noise and utterance she made. But this was playing a whole different ballgame now: she was now making it her mission to piss him off.

Prepared to pound his head against the tree, Liam gritted his teeth, skimming his eyes in her direction. "Love, do you have to do that?"

"Did you have to throw my phone in the woods?" She spat back.

Liam rubbed his hand over his face. "No, and I am sorry that. I apologize for all of eternity. I promise I will get you another one as soon as we get back, okay?”

Riley huffed. "Fine, but that phone had all of my contacts on it. It had our babies' pictures and videos on it ... our vacation photos. I can't get those memories back ever, and I have to find it, and God only knows where it landed. It could be ..." She stopped rattling on when she caught sight of the distressed look Liam was giving her. Knitting her brows, Riley asked, "What?"

"Nothing ... just ... can you lower your voice a little? You're gonna scare the deer away,"

He regretted it as soon as it came out.

“LIAAAAM!”

He saw the steam gushing out of her ears. There was no time to answer the incoming call on his walkie-talkie from Drake.

Belting out a furious screech, Riley jumped up and tried to jerk the gun from his hands. There was no question she wouldn't shoot him, but she'd sure as hell shred his favorite gun apart piece-by-piece and toss them all the way to Portavira Lake on the other side of town.

Riley tugged with all of her might. "I have HAD IT with being quiet for those damn deer, Liam. HAD IT!"

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down ..." He stood up in front of her, pulling back on the rifle even harder, surprised -- and not pleasantly so -- his considerably smaller wife had this much struggle in her.

"Don't you sweetheart me. You have shushed me for the last time, Liam Preston Rys!"

“Okay, I’m sorry! But can you at least admit us fighting over a gun is dangerous? Somebody is going to get seriously hurt, and I don’t want it to be you, Riley. Please. I won’t shush you anymore, I promise.” His face softened, eventually adorning a loving smile at his wife, who, with a sigh, was unable to resist that handsome face and relaxed her grip.

Riley gave him a half-smile in return. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve ruined your hunting trip.”

“Yes ... you did.” Liam agreed, dodging the playful slap she nearly made to his upper arm. “But I don’t want to fight anymore.”

With the War of the Ryses finally over, they went in for a makeup kiss until Drake’s voice called out to Liam again through his walkie talkie. Liam set the gun down on the bench and leaned it against the tree before he started digging into his pocket to answer the device. Riley dropped down onto the seat, her elbow brushed against the rifle and caused it to slide away until the barrel end hit the railing and set off a powerful blast.

When the ringing in both of their ears subsided, and the smoke had cleared, Liam and Riley collected themselves from the sudden spine-gripping explosion that shook them both. While Riley explained to Liam what happened, a hysterical sounding Drake came back over the walkie-talkie, wailing, “Alyssa’s been shot! Alyssa’s been shot! Help me!”

__________________

Later that evening, in the courthouse square, the street was lit up with zig-zagged rows of red, green, and white lights. Strands of garland were wound around every lamppost in perfect spiraled loops, and red bows hung and waved with the wintry breeze.

With traffic rerouted away from the area, vendors lined sidewalks selling local goods to put the town's citizens in the festive spirit. What would this small town in Georgia have been without boiled peanuts, low country boil, fried green tomatoes, barbecue, and peach everything?

Once Constantine had lit the 30-foot spruce, surrounded by hundreds of merry people from all walks of life that made up this small community, the festival was officially kicked-off.

In a large tent set up on the square, Liam and Riley laid out styrofoam containers and drinks they’d purchased from a barbeque vendor on one of several picnic tables inside. With their two young daughters munching away on their meal, and the stroller with their sleeping son beside them, they both sat down with heavy hearts and restless minds.

Liam bit into his barbecue sandwich, noticing Riley only prodding at her mac-and-cheese while staring off into the distance. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong; he knew what happened that morning was bothering her with guilt and worry. It wasn’t every day she accidentally shot someone.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Riley shook her head slightly with a sad look. “No. It’s just not the same without Alyssa here. You know how much she loves Christmas and the festival. She was so looking forward to it too, until --”

“You shot her.”

“Yeeeeeesssss,” she cried out. Liam reached across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze, his thumb caressing her smooth skin. Riley continued to sniffle as she grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the barbecue sauce off Liam’s sticky fingers that were now smeared all over hers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear it. And the way … and the way Drake cried. It broke my heart. Now he has her on bed rest AND house arrest. He won’t let her take calls. I’ll never see or hear from my bestie agaaaain.” The tears continued to flow in steady streams.

Liam stiffened, feeling the eyes of everyone in that tent, gawking at his overly-dramatic wife breaking down. He started to tell her to lower her voice, but after the gun battle in the woods, he thought better of it. “Riley, darlin’, you know Drake is really overprotective of Alyssa. And as scary as what happened was, she only needed the one stitch and band-aid for her graze wound. Something tells me Drake won’t be able to keep her down long.”

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

Liam was right. As much as Drake tried to keep her in bed so he could wait on her hand and foot, protect her from the careless friends of the world who could inadvertently do his baby girl harm, and check to see if she needed a new band-aid every few minutes, he could not keep her down. She had been far too excited to hang out with the people she loved so much and celebrate at one of her favorite festivals.

Maxwell had left for the events with Audrey and Patrick an hour ago; they were part of the children’s caroling group and needed to be there early. Against Drake’s wishes, Alyssa showered, got dressed, and made sure he knew in no uncertain terms would he be able to prevent her from going. The only thing he knew to do was to go, follow her around the entire night, and make sure she wouldn’t get shot again.

They circled the block where everything was held several times, but spaces to park were impossible to find. Three blocks away was the church where they attended, and the parking lot was completely empty. Drake didn’t like the fact that Alyssa would have to walk so far in her debilitated condition and was prepared to haul her piggyback style if he had to, but this was the best spot he could find.

Drake moved the gearshift into park and reached over to grab Alyssa’s arm, who was already bounding out the door. He pulled Alyssa back inside, the chilly air blowing through her open door swept her straighten hair this way and that way.

She cocked her head to the side and exhaled, “Drake, I can open my own door. I’m not broken. It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.”

“I know.” He smiled that tenderhearted smile only Alyssa had ever seen. The same one sending a shudder through her already chilled body. “I changed my mind,” he replied simply

Alyssa slammed her eyes shut and groaned. “I just told you I was fine --”

“No, no,” He shook his head. “About having another baby. I want to start trying.”

Saddled with curiosity, she slid back into the truck and shut the door. “But, I thought you said we didn’t have time for that --”

“Yeah, I did say that. I still believe it. But … today made me realize that yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today …”

Alyssa’s hand flew to her mouth as she laughed out loud. Drake gave her a confused look before chuckling awkwardly to himself, “What’s so funny?”

She lowered her hand, still laughing. “You got that saying from a quote on a poster in my classroom. You’re the one who hung it up for me.”

The memory dawned on him, and he lowered his head, attempting to cover the guilty grin that spread over it. “Well, hell. Here I was trying to make you think I was all insightful and smart and stuff.”

Alyssa’s hand splayed across his rugged chest as she leaned over to kiss him.“You are very insightful and smart. You know I never settle for anything less than the best.”

“I s’pose.” he said, forking his fingers through his hair. “But … I guess what I wanted to say was … I know that bullet missed you, barely … but what if it hadn’t? What if I’d left those woods without you today? Just like you were afraid that doe might. Time wouldn’t matter anymore. There will NEVER be enough time with you. You’re my life, Alyssa Claire. You’re my lover, my friend, my heart, my confidante, my soul, my everything … my little peach. I want to experience all that life has given me with you as my wife … and forever make time with you.”

“DRAAAKEY!” she bawled, spreading her tiny arms wide around his bulky body. Alyssa drew him into her so hard it nearly crushed the wind right out of his lungs. “I -- love -- you -- so muuuch!” Drake patted her back and kissed into her hair as she sniveled into his shirt. He hated when she cried, but damn if this didn’t feel good to him. Anytime she was happy made him that way too.

They took a moment to kiss and pet each other a little before Alyssa sat up and asked, “So … when do you want to start trying for a new baby Walker?”

He shrugged. “Whenever you want, baby.”

Alyssa looked through the back window of the truck and scanned the parking lot. She bit her lip and looked back at him impishly. “What about … now?”

Drake’s eyes flew open wide. “In the church parking lot?”

Pursing her lips, she affirmed, “Yes. We’ve done it behind the Piggly Wiggly plenty of times. And let's not forget the ‘Great Ass Blow-out of 2019’ in the Atlanta Convention Center parking garage.”

“I will never forget that.” Drake shook his head as that momentous sexual experience replayed in his mind. “Mmmm, you performed magic that day, woman.”

She raised a brow and coaxed him on, “So? What’dya say?”

Drake took a tentative look around at the dark, empty lot, then back at her. “We’re so going to hell, but I’m in.”

“Eeeeeee,” she squealed, jerking his arm around in excitement. “Try to keep your ass out of the window this time, okay?”

Thirty minutes later, Pastor Hakim pulled into the church parking lot with Mara, the game warden, following behind in her truck. There had been several reports from passerby’s of loud animals howling and screeching behind the church. The stray cat population was out of control in that area, and several cats had burrowed their way inside the church on occasion.

Hakim parked his car, with Mara pulling in beside him. They both got out simultaneously and listened quietly to see if they could decipher where the commotion was coming from.

Within seconds, a load moan roared out, followed by several consecutive whimpers that were hard to make out by the duo.

Mara listened intently, then gestured with her flashlight to an area near the back of the lot where clusters of shrubs and dry brush bordered. Hakim ambled behind her, the noise getting closer and closer until the pastor's brow furrowed at the shaking of a nearby truck.

“Damn, teenagers,” he grumbled as they tipped toed discreetly.

Mara crouched down by the truck's tailgate, Hakim bending over while she duck-walked toward the driver's side door.

The game warden turned to the pastor and instructed, “On my three. 1 -- 2 -- 3.” They both jumped up at the same time, flashing the light inside the cab. “HAHA Caught ya! OH MY GOD!”

Alyssa, who was on top of Drake, completely naked except for the band-aid on her left arm, looked up in utter humiliation and shock. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her breast, feeling like she might faint. Not knowing what to say at that moment to rectify their actions or why those two were still staring inside the truck, Alyssa smiled sheepishly. “I’m still feeling the spirit, Hakim.”

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

Permanent Tags:

@burnsoslow @ao719 @dcbbw @hopefulmoonobject @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @ofpixelsandscribbles @amandablink @cordoniaqueensworld @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer @cordonia-gothqueen @tinkie1973

#drake x alyssa #Liam x Riley #gun usage #hunting

117 notes · View notes