#Best bourbon brands

[taphousebourbon1]

Distillery bourbon

Welcome to our online bourbon shop, where you can explore a wide selection of premium American bourbons from top distilleries across the country. Our curated collection features small batch and handcrafted bourbons, perfect for enthusiasts looking to discover unique and high-quality spirits. Whether you're a seasoned bourbon connoisseur or just starting your journey into the world of whiskey, our shop offers a variety of options to suit every taste and preference. Shop with us and elevate your bourbon experience from the comfort of your own home. Cheers!

[bourbontrend]

Experience the Best of Both Worlds with Knob Creek Bourbon x Rye! This unique, limited-edition whiskey blends the rich, sweet notes of bourbon with the robust, spicy flavors of rye. Unmistakably Knob Creek, this 113 proof marvel is perfect for savoring neat, on the rocks, or in your favorite cocktail. Discover why this new release is a must-have for whiskey lovers everywhere.

[bonnfood]

Perfect cookies options from Bonn that you can carry to your workplace

A workplace is where we spend the major part of our day and one of the best companions that can accompany you to your workspace is good food and munching delights as these instantly help to feel rejuvenated, refreshed and energised to complete the piles of work. We all look forward to carrying snacking items that are not only delectable but also safe for our health and well-being. Bonn is a leading brand in India that manufactures quality biscuits and cookies that are highly delicious, fresh and made up of clean ingredients. Down below are the most flavourful cookies that you can carry to your office and enjoy at your convenience

Here are the top cookies options

Choco chip cookies

Choco chip cookies can be the best addition to your lunch bag. These crunchy yet soft cookies work both as a snack as well as a sweet indulgence. For the best choco chip cookie in India, you don't need to hurt your pocket and can place your orders from Bonn.

Coconut cookies biscuits

Coconut cookies are the top option to consider when you either need a sugar rush or just want to better your energy levels. The coconut cookies sprinkled with little sugar will surely take you a long way at work. You can also pick up the best bourbon biscuits in India for your office from Bonn.

Butter cookies 

If you love cookies that also have the delish touch of savoury then you should try Bonn's best butter cookies in India. We all love the flavour of butter and when combined with cookies then nothing like it. So make sure to consider this option.

Atta cookies

If you only prefer lightweight and plainly flavoured cookies then this is your pick. Atta cookies are a healthier choice and are good for people who don't prefer maida in their cookies. Just like Marie Biscuit, it will suit everyone.

These are just a few of the recommendations from Bonn. You can get an ample number of cookies or biscuits such as Jeera salto cookies, plain cookies etc. These are easily available online and offline so do try them out by ordering today.

[thefinewinecompany]

Best Scotch Whisky Arran Bodega - The Fine Wine Company Ltd

Experience the rich flavours of the best scotch whisky Arran Bodega. Shop now at The Fine Wine Company Ltd for premium malt whisky. Cheers to excellence!

[joelmillermylove]

The familiar stranger Pt.2

dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After you and Joels moment of weakness in the kitchen, The next day he wants to talk about what it all means but he can't keep his hands off you. Warning: 18+, Smut, Sex, Age gap (Joel in his late 40s and reader in her mid 20s). Word count: 1,611 A/N: You guys gave me so much love on part 1 it it literally made me cry! I really hope you guys love part 2 as well! ps. I'm still new to writing so be kind to me haha Tags: some of you wanted to be tagged in part 2 which made my day! @morganlolitta @akah565 @wandavisionx

← Part one

Joel hadn’t been able to get you out of his head since that day in the kitchen. It didn’t matter how much he tried to push the memory of your lips, your hands, the sound of your moans, every detail had burned itself into his mind like a brand.

He knew it wasn’t right. Hell, he kept telling himself, She’s too young. She’s your best friend’s daughter. But none of that seemed to matter when he closed his eyes and your face was all he could see.

He hated it. Hated how it made him feel—like a man barely in control of himself. That wasn’t who he was. Joel Miller didn’t get weak. He didn’t lose his grip.

But every time he thought about you, he felt that grip slipping. 

*The next day*

You’re in your room reading when you hear footsteps, you look up and notice Joel. He looks so handsome and you can smell is Cologne even from a distance; he always smells so good like citrus and bourbon. He takes a deep breath and leans against the doorframe. 

“Hey, darlin’, we need to talk about yesterday,” he said, his voice low and rough, filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Your heart raced, a mix of anticipation and dread. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Joel pushed off the doorframe and walks over to the edge of your bed, sitting down slowly, as if he was still trying to find the right words.

He stared down at his hands for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before finally meeting your gaze. The look in his eyes was both vulnerable and haunted.

“I… I can’t stop thinkin’ about you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. The admission hung in the air between you, and your breath caught in your throat.

“I know it’s wrong,” he continued, running a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his features. “I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but it’s like I don’t have a choice”

You felt the warmth of his words wrap around you, and a part of you wanted to jump into his arms, to tell him you felt the same way. But another part of you recognized the weight of the situation—the risks, the consequences.

“Joel,” you started, your voice trembling slightly, but he shook his head, silencing you gently.

“I know, I know it ain’t right,” he said, his expression softening as he leaned closer. “But I can’t help it. I’m scared, darlin’, Scared of losin’ you.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, filled with desperation. “But I can’t pretend anymore. I want you…I need you.”

The confession hung in the air, electric and alive, and for a moment, time stood still. Your heart swelled at his words, battling with the reality of everything that surrounded you both.

“You want me?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper, heart pounding in your chest.

He nodded, vulnerability painted across his features, and you could see the walls he had built around himself starting to crumble. “Yes And I know it’s complicated, but I don’t want to keep pretendin’ it doesn’t exist.”

You moved closer, heart racing as you absorbed what he had just laid bare. He looked deep into your eyes, the warmth and intensity of his gaze making your heart skip a beat. 

As Joel leans in, his rough hands cradle your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek. The moment his lips finally meet yours, it sends shivers down your spine. 

Joel’s lips move against yours with a Carful intensity, has if he was afraid to rush this precious moment.

The kiss deepened, and as you melted into Joel’s embrace, the world outside faded into nothingness. Every thought, every worry, evaporated, leaving only the two of you tangled together in a cocoon of warmth and desire.

With a gentle urgency, Joel’s hands roamed your back, tracing the curves of your body as he leaned you back onto the bed. He followed you down, never breaking the kiss, his body pressing against yours in a way that made your heart race.

You could feel his weight on you, the heat radiating from his body, grounding you as he finally pulled back to look into your eyes. His expression was a mix of longing and tenderness, and you could see the battle waging within him—wanting you, but wanting to protect you too.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, his voice rough, filled with an earnestness that made your heart swell.

You nodded, cupping his face with your hands, your eyes never leaving his. “I’m sure, Joel. I want this… I want you.”

He seemed to relax at your words, and the tension between you shifted to a powerful energy that pulsed with need. Joel leaned in again, capturing your lips in a fervent kiss, and you felt a thrill run through you as his hands traveled lower, gently exploring the curves of your body.

As he kissed down your neck, you gasped, the sensation igniting every nerve ending in your body. His mouth was warm and soft against your skin, each kiss sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone, and his words sent a flush of heat through you, a mix of shyness and excitement.

The moment felt sacred, an unspoken promise hanging in the air. He took his time, savoring every inch of you, his hands gliding over your skin with reverence.

When his fingers brushed against the hem of your shirt, a surge of anticipation coursed through you. He looked up at you, gauging your reaction, and you nodded again, heart racing with excitement.

With gentle care, he lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes drinking you in as if you were a masterpiece. The heat in his gaze ignited something deep within you, and you felt more alive than ever.

“God, you’re perfect,” he breathed, his voice filled with awe.

You could feel yourself blushing under his scrutiny, but the way he looked at you made you feel empowered, beautiful in a way you had never experienced before.

As he leaned back down, his mouth found yours again, and you felt the world around you fade further away. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer until every inch of you was pressed against him, and you could feel the undeniable proof of his desire against your thigh.

The kiss turned more frantic, more passionate, and you could feel the heat radiating between you. The need grew stronger, more urgent, and you could feel the rhythm of his heart matching yours.

With a gentle urgency, Joel’s hands explored your body, fingers gliding along your skin, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever he touched. Every caress, every kiss, was filled with a tenderness. 

“Tell me if I go too fast,” he whispered between kisses, his breath hot against your lips. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

You smiled, the intimacy of his concern wrapping around you like a warm blanket. “Just be with me, Joel. I want this.”

He nodded, determination mixed with tenderness in his gaze. As he continued kissing you, he moved slowly, deliberately, wanting to savor every moment.

As he gently pushed you back into the bed, you felt a rush of excitement mixed with nervousness. But with Joel, you felt safe. He was the anchor you didn’t know you needed.

He took his time, ensuring you felt comfortable and cherished. Picking up the pace he just stars into your eyes with such lust. 

“J-Joel” you Whimper, gripping onto his huge biceps. “Gotta be quiet, sweet thing. Can’t have anyone catchin’ us” You bite your lip as he starts to move his hips again, slowly thrusting into you once more. 

“You feel so goddamn good.” Joel’s words are slightly slurred behind his clenched teeth, trying to control his own sounds of pure bliss.

“Joel—” You cry again as he picks up his pace again, He made you feel good in a way that nobody else ever has. 

“I know baby, I know. Shhh” He coos, kissing your temple as he begins to thrust into you skillfully, tilting his body up so he hits your g-spot every single time. 

His thrusts slowed as both of you ride out your high. As everything starts to slow down, Joel cages you in between his arms as his hands rest on either side of your head against the wall behind you. He buries his face in your neck, catching his breath as he leaves tiny pecks along your pulse point. You mindlessly wrap your fingers around the back of his neck, gently dragging your fingertips against his hot skin while he took some time to recollect himself. 

“My sweet girl.” He whispers with a chuckle laced into his words, kissing you once more before he falls to the side of You, both of you out of breath. 

Lying in bed next to Joel, the warmth of his body radiates against yours, creating a sense of intimacy and safety. The room is dimly lit, the remnants of the earlier passion lingering in the air. You can hear the soft rhythm of his breathing as he slowly drifts into a peaceful state, his hand resting lightly on your waist.

Glancing over at him, you notice the way his features relax with you in his arms, a rare sight that reveals a softer side of him. You can’t help but wonder what the future holds for the two of you in a world that’s often unforgiving. But both of you are ready to risk it all for eachother.

[hanasnx]

thinking about Jason Todd dating a veterinarian/doctor reader. We all know he's very busy with his Red Hood work, so having someone with a busy schedule is almost a relief for him, because then he wouldn't have to worry about disappointing you due to lack of time. he has a lack of time monitoring the city and the reader has a lack of time on medical duty. it's fair. it work.

but that’s not the best point of all, at least not for me. In my mind, Jason is very closed off and stubborn, so it's very difficult to get him to take care of the injuries he gets in alley fights against criminals, but now he's dating a doc and It change things, especially when they're trying to tend to an injury and it's so close, holding him still because god, won't he stop squirming? and he's like "okok, put your tits on my face will not calm me down, doc." It does. it calm him down. jason is a tit guy. He can sit for hours with you stitching his back without anesthesia if it means he'll have the soft flesh hidden beneath a tank top rubbing against him, against his face.

This is shaping up to be a long-winded rant and I don't want to be exhaustive, so I'll go to the last topic: the way tend his injures always lead to sex. he has this thing that he wants to be taken care of. he's rude and dominant with everyone and maybe even in bed, but sometimes he just wants his love to put bandages on his shoulders and spread kisses all over his face while he rides him nice and slow, saying that everything will be fine, that he will be brand new on no time. I also think it could happen since he's just too beat up to fight crime and Reader just put a stay-at-home sign on him, and it's driving him mad. he has nothing to take out all that energy and anger, so he takes it out on you, fucking you against every possible corner and surface, unlike the bubble of love from before, now he's just digging short nails into your hips already marked by his fingers, creating more and more noise tickets late at night.

anyway, I think that's it! I'm so happy you liked that ask about Dick & ballerina, it just warmed my heart! hope you're doing well!

MINORS DNI 18+

"Jay— Jay! You'll pull your stitches!" you warn, but JASON TODD remains un-intimidated, yanking you back by your hips to meet his thrusts. Some thug with a knife gave him a long slice across his bicep, followed closely by one across the side of his ribcage. Wounds you'd just finished tending, but the bourbon he'd downed to ease the pain was already in full effect. That, or he's fucking you through the sting. He's got you bent over in front of him, your fingers bracing on some piece of furniture while you stand. He didn't bother taking your clothes off, yanking your panties down to pool around your ankles, your smart little pencil skirt folded over your torso.

"Help me through the pain, Doc." he replies, his gruff voice strained from effort. "Hurts so good." he moans, but you can tell he's feigning it, as if he's not taking you seriously. To distract you from your protests, his large body curls around you, hand cupping your hanging tits, rolling the flesh in his fingers and palm. "If you cum on this dick I'll feel better."

You bark a laugh at him, releasing a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "Make me do it then. I'll have to patch you back up after this anyway." As if to playfully punish you for your attitude, he smacks one of your tits and you squeak in surprise.

"Finally on board."

[lethalchiralium]

Shopping List | Happiness

Baby Tylenol

Conditioner

Journal

One pink and one green teddy bear

Cat treats

Milk

Cheese

Yogurt cups

Eggs

Three boxes of Cheerios

Apple and orange juice

Two loaves of bread

Bottle of bourbon

Flowers

-

Simon felt as if his head had been underwater all day. Going through the motions, sluggishly moving through his day as if he had fifty pound weights on his shoulders, barely getting a breath for himself. He spun the steering wheel with the heel of his palm, streetlights painting his dashboard with a sudden warm glow every few moments. It felt far too late to go to the store, but he just needed a moment; time to get his head above water. His truck only ever seemed to squeal when he made left turns, something his wife said worried her. A kiss to her cheek and a soft “I’ll check later.” would be her only answer. He reminded himself to call the mechanic as he pulled into the small car park, cringing at the squeal as he turned his wheel to the left. He threw it into park, ran a warm hand down his face and opened his door.

A blink and he found himself grabbing a trolley, was it normal to be this disoriented? He’d never know the answer, letting his body take over and lead him through the familiar shop. He didn’t need much in the personal care aisle, just a bottle of his wife’s conditioner and some baby Tylenol. He glanced around at the bottle, skipping the ones with the green label for the one with red. Even with heavy eyes, he read over the label, ensuring it was right for his eight month old. He tossed it in, moving to a different aisle. His feet felt as if they were filled with lead, the weight in his head and on his shoulders didn’t help; he narrowly dodged a huge cardboard display of glitter covered journals. He paused for a second, grabbing one and tossing it in for his five year old.

Simon definitely meant to pass to the toy aisle without a single glance, yet he found himself digging in the stuffed animals shelf for a green bear - his eldest’s favorite color. The baby’s pink one sat on top of the journal, then was swiftly joined by its green counterpart. He sighed, swearing to himself that he needs to get the essentials and go, but not without snatching a bag of cat treats for the cat he didn’t want.

The dazed man took barely any time in the dairy aisle, grabbing milk, eggs, little yogurt cups, and cheese. The girls had been eating more and more every day, he was proud to see them grow. He placed a jug of apple juice in the trolley, absentmindedly making sure to miss the teddy bears. Pushing the cart a little faster, he moved into the breakfast section. Cheerios were the only cereal allowed in the house, it certainly wasn’t his wife’s rule. His five year old hated every other cereal, she refused to eat anything but Cheerios every morning. He tossed three boxes in the trolley, narrowly missing the eggs. The bakery would be open in the morning, he would get a loaf of bread there, since his wife liked their bread best.

It wouldn’t be until the last aisle that Simon would finally stop for a full moment. Familiarly shaped glass bottles sat in a corner of the store, an even more familiar black and beige branding made his hand instinctively grab it. He stared at the glass, watching the liquid slosh around like the metaphorical storm surge he was in. His stomach ached, his tongue seemed to burn for a taste. His heart clenched with a burning feeling, he looked away from the label towards the front, noticing a small display with flowers and his heavy eyes opened just a little more.

Yet, he felt his ears pop, his head raise above the water as he recognized them. They were the white flowers his love adored. Identical to the ones he always brought her for every happy occasion, since now they were his favorite too. White carnations.

The bottle of bourbon was left on the shelf, perfectly beside its brothers.

[bullet-prooflove]

Final Words: Kayce Dutton

Tagging: @kmc1989 @midnightheat @queenslandlover-93 @littledreamer9211 @spooky-librarian-ghost @atomic-art-dragon @sleepystoner326 @themarvelousmaks

Nobody talks about the year that Lee went missing.

Kayce doesn’t even know about it until he finds the stack of journals tucked away underneath a broken floorboard he’s trying to fix. The damn thing has been creaking ever since he moved into this place and it’s starting to drive him just a little crazy. When he pulls up the panel he doesn’t expect to see the collection of black Moleskine notebooks, each one thick with dust. It’s when he pulls out the first one and starts flicking through the yellowed pages that he realises that they belong to his deceased brother. He had no idea that Lee kept a journal, that he had since he was sixteen years old.

He spends the next couple of hours sat in front of the fire with a glass of bourbon, reading through them in chronological order. The first one is about normal school shit, he describes the pretty girl who sits in front of him in Lit, how she lent him a pen when he forgot his own. They end up being partners in Biology and over the next few months Kayce reads about how his brother falls in love with Anna-May, how he promised to marry her one day.

It's insight into his brother he had absolutely no clue about. There’s was ten year age gap between him and Lee. Whilst he was secretly applying to colleges, Kayce was ten years old making up songs about each of the horses in the stables, trying to figure out what words rhymed with sugarcube.

It all turns to shit when Lee announces he’s going to Berkley. He details the conversation between him and their father, the refusal to pay the tuition. Lee couldn’t apply for financial aid because of their circumstances so his dream was dead in the water before it even had a chance to get off the ground. He helps Anna-May pack her things and sends her off to California alone while he takes his rightful place at the Yellowstone.

It’s for the best, he writes, it’s not fair to put the burden of the ranch on Jamie and Kayce.

It’s a six months later that their mom dies in a riding accident and Lee accidently causes a wildfire that takes out a couple of pastures on the Eastern side of the farm.

I can’t stand this numbness anymore, it feels like I can barely breathe anymore. I need to see her.

He takes off to California a week later, in a truck stolen from the ranch. He drives it all the way up to Berkley, where he wants for Anna-May outside of her dorm. When she finally lays eyes on her, he doesn’t get out of the truck because she’s with another man, his arm slung over her shoulders as he whispers sweet nothings in her ear.

I told her to move on, Lee writes. I just didn’t realise how much it would hurt when she did.

He doesn���t come home after that, he spends the next year travelling from state to state, picking up seasonal work, he’s been in Maine for three months, chopping wood when his father finally catches up with him.

In that moment I realised there was nothing for me but that ranch, my future had been set in stone from the minute I was born, what was the point in trying to fight it anymore?

It breaks Kayce’s heart because he can feel Lee’s exhaustion emanating through the pages. His brother takes the brand that night as punishment for abandoning his responsibilities. The acknowledgement of his failure is seared upon his skin, the same way it had been upon Kayce’s.

It’s three in the morning when he finally gets to the last one, the mood starts to shift, the tone changing. Anna-May had stepped back into Lee’s life and it was like his entire world had erupted into colour again, it’s only then that Kayce realises how depressed his brother had been throughout the years. He’d hidden it well on the surface but the reality of it is etched into each of these journals.

It's when he gets to the final pages of the one he’s reading that the sonogram falls out into Kayce’s lap, his breath catches in his throat as his gaze lingers on the last few words that Lee ever wrote.

 It’s become clearer over the past couple of days that we can’t stay here at the ranch. I see the way that my father is with Tate and I know he’s already being prepared for a role he has no awareness of. I don’t want that for my son, I don’t want that for Kayce’s son. I want them both to have the choices we didn’t, to live the way they want, to be the people they want to be.

It's then that Kayce sees the truth about Lee, the weight that sat on his shoulders, day in and day out, suffocating him. It’s the same one that sits on his own because Kayce, he thought this is what Lee would have wanted, someone to take up the role, to fulfil that legacy. He’s been killing himself to trying to honor a dead man’s wishes only to discover those weren’t his wishes at all, they were those of his father, the man that’s currently grooming his son to be the next in line for the throne.

It's that night that Kayce packs his bags.

He’s leaving Yellowstone and he’s taking his son with him.

Love Kayce? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[blingblong55]

Merry little Christmas-141

Photo credits:(twitter/X) @/bigmikemw

A/N: Have yourself a merry little Christmas -Kasper <3

---- GN!Reader, platonic!relationship? fluff/comfort? ----

After so much loss, blood, tears and sweat, Task Force 141 found themselves in a cabin, a Christmas tree decorated, a fireplace lit and much laughter filled the room. The once empty and cold cabin now hosted the fond memory. It was the night before Christmas when not a soldier was awoken by night terrors, not even a gun used to inflict harm; the camouflaged stockings were hung by the Chimney with care, in hope that peace would soon be brought to their lives; The soldiers all nestled in their beds; Smoke from cigars now gone as even the eldest of them all slept well.

By morning, the soldiers woke up, Gaz, Price, Soap, Ghost and R/N and to their surprise, Kate Laswell had gifts that greeted them all. Price sat int he sofa first, Soap and Gaz smiling like they won the war. Ghost and R/N walked in with mugs for all to have and through the early morning, they read the letter that sat upon the chimney, opened gifts and smiled to know someone out there thought of them with care.

Gaz received a new hat, multiple actually, one that was happily decorated with the word 'Soccer' the same one he would wear to taunt his best mate for some time. Soap received a football signed and dedicated to him from his favourite team and a letter from his family back home. This of course brought the young soldier to tears as he smiled at the letters his mother so lovingly wrote for him. R/N, received a letter as well, written by Laswell, thanking the young soldier for their sacrifice when they helped Laswell in some past operation and then, the small box held a mask, made just for them. "Just like the one I lost." You recall a past operation, losing a mask and also losing part of yourself. "To the memory of the late R/N and here's to the new R/N, may they live forever." The embroidery read.

Ghost, receiving archived photos of his family, tea bags and Kentucky Bourbon. He chuckles as he remembers sharing a drink with Laswell many years ago and how he found himself sharing his life with her and Price. He holds the bottle, staring at it and smiling, someone remembered him. Price laughs, two boxes of cigars, all from the brand he adores and hidden behind a mug that read, "Soccer lover." He groans a laugh and shows it to Gaz who laughs and shows him the cap that was given to him. "Don't dare," Price points a finger only to have Gaz laugh, "I'm not missing a chance to wear this and annoy you." Now, Price has a gift idea for Gaz's birthday.

A knock on the door and when opened, they find Santa herself, wearing a Christmas hat and her wife behind her. "Good morning, hope you are all hungry for some homemade meal?" She shows the large trays of food, made the night before and for this occasion only. Kate's children run around, playing with the young soldiers as Price helps the two ladies with the table. "You didn't have to, Kate." She shakes her head, "Nonsense, you five deserve this and take it as a thank you for what you and the team have done for me." Kate's wife passes by Price, "Trust me, just take the food and eat, she won't take no for an answer."

Kate sighs, "Just eat, trust me, Martha Stewart helped me make this meal." "The book did, honey," Kate's wife corrects her from the kitchen. "What she said." Price chuckles, "Might as well do that." Throughout the cabin, the children ran around, showing off what Santa had brought them the night before to the young soldiers. Gaz and Soap are stuck playing with Nerf guns and the occasional Barbie break. R/N ran around the dining table, chasing the youngest child of Laswell. "Never seen Ghost so…happy and excited," Price mentions as he observes Ghost have a tea party with plushies and the little girl of Laswell.

"I think this is the first time he likes someone else's tea," Price jokingly says and watches Ghost get a fake tiara on his head. The little girl giggles any time Ghost pretends the tea is too hot and he sighs in relief when her younger brother plays doctor and helps Ghost with the pain.

And now, it is safe to say that for the first time in their lives, they have a photograph that celebrates how for a moment, war stopped, smiling all genuinely portrayed and all in Christmas sweaters as the photo was taken. 'Christmas of '23, TF 141 and The Laswells' the photo has written on the bottom. At this moment, is commemorates a new tradition, Christmas dinners at that cabin, where life is peaceful.

To the team, Thank you for your help and support in operations I have given throughout the years. It is my understanding you all will share a cabin this Christmas and in classic fashion, I have sent gifts for you to open the morning of December twenty-fifth. Times haven't been the greatest to you all but I promise that for at least this very moment, you shall be granted time to care for the other. It is also my understanding that you all consider yourself a family, which is why, by the time you read this letter, you'll get a knock on the door by the very family that considers you all a part of their family. And for all that I love, watch your words amongst my kids, all of you.

May you have a merry little Christmas, Kate Laswell.

Tags:

@eicee @loviie-stuff @liyanahelena @cinnamon-cola @sadieesssss @kitschaosden @wrathofcats @johfaam0 @frazie99 @spicypicklesoh @vampsquerade @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06 @ikohniik

[sgiandubh]

For no particular reason: Lola's homemade chocolate

Today is Lola the Corgi's presumed birthday. We chose it approximately, while at the vet's, because Lola's story is nothing short of a canine miracle. She jumped in my cab, somewhere in the humble outskirts of Bucharest, on Saint Nicholas' Day. The driver asked, absurdly, if that was 'my dog' and I simply answered 'well, now it is'.

Little did we know the shaking, stone cold and scared to death puppy was a very rare Cardigan Corgi - this came later, when a British friend was amazed at the recovery and pointed it out adamantly. She could have been stolen or simply lost, but we will never know and we never looked back.

All our dogs had Spanish names (except for cats, always boys and always Pasha, namesakes of a beloved Shipper Mom's childhood pet), simply because they are easy to learn and remember. In her case, Lola is for...

for well... for obvious locomotion reasons 🤣 #LolaFlores. Twelve years with a supremely intelligent and empathic friend deserved a batch of my homemade chocolate, don't you think?

Too bad she can't try it. But enough babbling, here goes.

You will need: 2 cups/ 250 grams milk powder - I recommend Nestlé's Carnation, if you can't get hold of Rarăul, the obscure, Communist local brand (so damn good); 2 sticks/200 grams full fat butter (I recommend Irish butter, always with excellent results), at room temperature, cubed; 7 Tablespoons/50 grams cocoa (Dutch, if you can, but I prefer either Ghirardelli or the Greek Ion brand, which I think are the best on this planet); 2½ cups/ 500 grams Demerara sugar (or caster sugar). A dash of instant coffee, for decorating. You can replace sugar by stevia sweetener (measure accordingly - I used this, because I was also cooking for a severe diabetic who can't control herself), with very good results. Optional: crushed tea biscuits or cookies in the US/chopped hazelnuts/pine nuts/walnuts/peanut butter (in swirls) - sky is the limit. For the adult version, feel free to add a hefty swig of brandy/rhum/whisky/bourbon/vodka/limoncello or hey, let's be totally dirty (sssh!), Bailey's.

In a nonstick pan, gently simmer 3/4 cup or 170 ml cold water with ALL the sugar. Stir nonstop (only with wooden spoon or silicone spatula, never metal - it lends a foul taste!) until you get a sort of thin syrup - basically the sugar should dissolve, nothing more. 2 to 3 minutes should be enough.

Add the cubed butter, stir gently until it melts and incorporates completely. 10 minutes max, but never stop stirring!

Take the pan off the heat. Gently pour dry milk in small batches, stirring and incorporating continuously. It should immediately thicken, sticky fudge consistency.

Gently mix the cocoa, with slow, ample bottom/top movements (you don't want it anywhere else but in that pan, for sure). Right consistency should be a thick ribbon, pouring from the spoon.

Back to the heat for about 30 to 45 seconds, stirring all the time. I have no idea why, but my grandma always insisted it was very important, go figure. Take off the heat and immediately add the nuts and (if you choose) the alcohol, mixing vigorously.

Pour into a well buttered loaf tin. Dust with instant coffee. Let cool, put into fridge for 6 hours minimum (overnight is better). Only cut with a wet knife. Devour and don't think about the damn calories.

I am sorry for the very, very old pic (2010, I think). Tonight, it was impossible to take a proper one 😱.

This is what we do call 'homemade chocolate' all over Eastern Europe, but to be honest, it's rather some very, very good fudge. The dry milk is a dead giveaway of the real age of the recipe, which is around 1945 - postwar rationing, of course.

You are welcome. You won't regret the 45 minutes you're likely to spend making it.

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[amikaelsonstory]

Not the end, but a new beginning - III

Chapter III

Warning: smut, blood, (sorry about the delay guys, I'll edit this post later with the tag list)

As the eldest Mikaelson brother gets more suspicious about their new guest, a memory from his life in Europe unfolds, bringing Elijah over the edge.

As Hope guided Minna to the guests’ room, Minna’s eyes ran all over the Mikaelson’s place, trying to see if she could get some clue of what was happening and why they wanted her so bad.

“Here it is” – Hope opened the door and turned to Minna, waving around then holding her own hands down, feeling a bit of ashamed by the way her family found to bring Minna to them – ‘There’s towels and a robe in the bathroom, if you want…to take a shower, I don’t know’ – Hope felt her cheeks flushing , she couldn’t help to not feel glad and hopeful Minna was there, so she got closer to her and held her hands, looking up to her eyes. – “See you in the evening” - and disappeared before Minna could say anything.

Meanwhile downstairs, Elijah, who tried his best to regain his usual composure, was drinking some bourbon at the study room looking out of the window, when Klaus busted room in, confident as nobody hasn’t seeing in quite a while. – “There you are, brother! You missed the unboxing of our brand-new weapon against the hollow” – Klaus cheered while poured himself a glass as well – ‘And if I may add, she’s quite ravishing’.

‘Niklaus... ‘– Elijah finally moved his gaze to his brother, placing a hand on his pockets – ‘Doesn’t it feel too...easy? Discovering this woman, bringing her home, close to us, to Hope. Shouldn’t we be more careful in times like this?’ – He started walking around the room, avoiding facing his brother in an attempt to disguise his real worries. Klaus heavily set on the couch, taking a large sip of bourbon – Brother, she seems to be the key for what we need, but in case she isn’t, I’m sure we won’t have any issues in ending her as well – he rose his eyebrows and smirked to his brother, lifting the glass up – ‘Don’t be so… how you lot call me? Paranoid’

As Minna finished her shower, she wore a silk black robe that was kindly placed on her bed and walked towards the balcony, combing her wet hair and trying to organize her thoughts. She was apprehensive, although that family was very warm welcoming her, something deep in her guts felt wrong. To push away her fears, Minna figured that walking around the compound would be a wise idea, in case she needed to scape. As she walked through the shadowy hallways, a husky deep voice took her by surprise.

‘Miss Murray, I believe I didn’t have the honor’ – Elijah appeared unannounced, making Minna gasp in surprise, but laughed softly placing one hand on her chest – ‘Dear Lord, you scared me!!’ – she turned to face him, breathing heavily. Her eyes ran all over the man facing her, his open hand in the air, indicating he wished to greet her. As Elijah took her hand and lift to meet his lips, his eyes were locked on hers, he felt like time had stopped. The roses smell on her skin, her soft fingers, her touch…It couldn’t be real. – ‘I’m Elijah Mikaelson, you met my siblings I believe.’ – He kept her hand on his, as his eyes dropped to the black silk robe she was wearing. The fabric was delicate, hugging her hips and breasts, allowing him to see her chest moving up and down as Minna's breath was still uneasy by the surprise approach. She was barefoot, which allowed him to recognize those delicate feet, absorbing every detail completely. As Elijah lifted his eyes to meet hers again, he was taken somewhere else.

______________________________________________________________

Vienna, 1886.

It was a breezy autumn night, Elijah was leaning against the window, looking the few pedestrians walking on streets of Vienna. He was distracted, hands in his pockets trying to disguise his anxiety, when he heard some soft steps approaching – ‘Dear Lord, you scared me!’ – Elisabeth gasped in surprise, giggling by the sight of Elijah in her room. She stepped slowly towards him, playing with the ribbons of her nightdress – ‘You were not supposed to be here Elijah, Mrs. Berger doesn’t allow gentlemen in the rooms’. He opened a warm smile as Elisabeth approached him with a cheeky glow on her face.

 – ‘Well, you were not at Dr. Freud’s lecture this afternoon, so I felt the obligation to come here and check for your wellbeing’ – Elijah grabbed Elisabeth by her waist, bringing her close enough to feel his lips ghosting over hers, filling the air thick with tension.  Elisabeth stood on her tiptoes, ran her hands through Elijah’s torso up and down, vociferating – ‘Liar’ – with a giggle before catching his lips on hers.  As their lips and tongues devoured each other’s, she slid a hand around his neck, softly pull his hair. Elijah pulled her closer, placing a hand on her back, sliding the other down to her hip, grabbing her butt cheek eagerly – ‘Not lying Elis, a single day without the sight of you is a nightmare to me’- He broke the kiss to cup her cheeks, his thumbs softly caressing her face – ‘I truly mean it, darling’.

Elisabeth held Elijah’s hands and took one to her lips, kissing it satinly as her she closed her eyes – ‘I know my love, I know’- She suddenly opened her eyes and leapt over the bed, sitting on her heels- ‘So why don’t you tell how was your wasted day while you brush my hair?’.

Elijah unclasped his cufflinks, folding his sleeves and set behind Elisabeth on the bed. He took a brush for her nightstand and softly started untangling her long chestnut hair. He pulled all to one side, exposing her neck and a part of her shoulder, running his hand up and down, slightly pressing her neck. As Elisabeth closed her eyes, enjoying his touch, she opened her lips releasing a soft moan, making Elijah’s fangs stand, feeling his member tight up inside his trousers – ‘I got a gift for you, but you must keep your eyes closed’- he whispered on her ear, nibbling it down to her neck.  Elisabeth nodded, rubbing her hands on her nightdress fabric, as her arousal was increasing by feeling Elijah’s touch. He fasted the necklace on her neck and guided her to the large mirror on the bed side. – ‘Now you may look’ – he held his beloved, crossing his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on her shoulder, watching her reaction on the mirror.

‘Elijah!’ – She gasped surprised, her big onyx eyes were brightening by the diamonds sparkles – ‘This is... too much. It’s beautiful’ – Elisabeth hissed mesmerized, turning her face to capture his lips. ‘It’s nothing compared to what you mean to me Elis. And it’s just an overture to what I need to say’ – Elijah was placing soft kissed on her skin while his skilled fingers unbuttoned her nightdress. Elis laid her head back on his shoulder, pressing her hips against his, feeling his bulge urging to be released.

As her nightdress dropped by her feet, Elijah cupped his hands on her breasts, squeezing them with some pressure, making Elis moan a bit louder as he sank his fangs deep on her neck, drinking her eagerly. Her blood dripped from her neck, his mouth, tainting the diamonds, making a bloody mess all over her naked body. Elis put her hands behind her back, unbuttoning Elijah’s trousers, releasing his cock, running her hands up and down on it, making him retrieve his fangs, to catch a breath. He ran his hand down her body, coating his fingers with blood and sliding two of them inside her from behind.

Elis’ high-pitched moan was suffocated by Elijah’s wrist, as she sank her fangs on it, drinking from him, as he pushed his fingers deep inside her and withdraw them slowly, making her bend over the mirror. She placed both of her hands on it, staining blood over the mirror’s surface, meeting Elijah’s gaze through it. He stroked his length with his free hand, placing his cock between her butt cheeks, sliding it easily with all her blood and wetness, ready to swap places with his fingers inside her. Elisabeth’s moans became louder, irregular, as she was pressing her hips against his hand, whispering his name, until they heard someone shouting outside.

-MISS MAGYAR!! MISS MAGYAR! What is happening here?! – An old lady was knocking fiercely on the door, demanding Elisabeth to open it immediately.

The knocks on the door were so loud that Elijah was brought back to the present time, out of his memory dream.  His eyes focused on Minna’s, noticing he was still holding her hand tightly. She lifted her free hand and touched his face softly – ‘Elijah? Are you okay?’

‘Please forgive me, Miss Murray’ – Elijah released her hand as he bolted away, disappearing through the dark hallway.

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[shrenvents]

Miracle Aligner

Alex Turner Series

Series Masterlist

Summary: Who knew Alex Turner, frontman to one of the greatest bands of this generation had the worst luck in love. As a romantic who's quite familiar with heartbreak, Turner's grown sick of looking for a spark that will eventually burn him. So, while visiting a local pub, how was he supposed to know that a drunken Tuesday night, would change his sombre tune forever?

Inspired by the album Everything You've Come To Expect. Mature content (sexual acts, language) Original character.

Chapter one:

Aviation

Toronto, November 15, 2015

5:57 pm

Alex's POV

"That's enough Turner!" Zach yells over the various clamouring instruments. "You've been working on these songs for weeks and this was the best you got mate?" Jaime continues with a snort. "Yeah?" I huff, rolling my eyes.

Jaime and Zach exchange a knowing look before Zach pipes up again. "You know what Al? Why don't you call it a night, maybe go out, meet a few girls, have fun." He then glances to my right. "Miles you stay and finish your set."

"What's this?" I jest, bewildered by my bandmates.

"Sorry Al, the songs you've been writing these days just aren't the Shadow Puppets brand," Jaime trails off, looking more empathetic than his counterpart. My brows crease further into my eyelids and I dully unclasp the guitar strap from my shoulder. "My songs don't fit the 'brand' of my band?" I glare at them in disbelief as the two share another look.

"Sorry Al, but your material has been all doom and gloom these days." Miles now exclaims while avoiding my troubled expression. He pauses before continuing. "Your greatest hits are love songs, passionate shite." Miles's eyes then connect with my own, and I finally understand what he's implying. "It's been a while mate." His last statement was the final blow.

That's right, I haven't been with anyone for months, romantically, physically, and everybody knows it. These days I just find romance to be tiresome. Even a shag doesn't seem to excite me much anymore. I've simply gone mad, that's what it is.

Though they seem to have me all figured out, I refuse to give in to their remarks. "You lot have lost it. I'll come back when you've come to your senses!" I bark out while snatching up my guitar and jacket. The boy's faint snickers fill the room as I take off towards the door. "Aw c'mon, Al!" Jaime carries out, stifling his laughter. I slam the door behind me with unnecessary force, utterly infuriated.

Instantly after leaving the studio, I feel the blistering Canadian winter encase my narrow frame. "Bugger," I snit before whipping out my phone, in hopes an Uber would usher me away from this frost. To my dismay, because of the excessive snowfall, transport was either delayed or unavailable, and I had no interest in sticking around roadside. So, I switched to searching for a local pub, racing out of the cold.

...

After a numbing 10-minute journey, I reached a pub called Les Cactus and ripped open its wooden entrance, embracing its heat. Whilst I take a seat on the nearest bar stool, a flash of red catches the corner of my eyes. A waitress with her back turned serves drinks to a group of men who gawk at her with an unreserved fancy. Momentarily, I admire her long, fiery hair that flows down her fit backside. Fortunately, the incoming bartender removes me from my fairly pervy thoughts. "What can I get for ya buddy?" The bartender ranks down my features, odd excitement filling his own. "You got any Bulleit?" He smirks.

"Sure thing." He spins away from me, before quickly rotating back and whispering for my ears only, "Big fan by the way." I smile politely with a nod as he disappears into the bar to prepare my drink. My gaze returns to the space where the redhead once stood, which is now vacant. "Here ya go. Let me know if you need anything else!" The bartender ponders shortly before speaking, "My name's Mickey by the way." He places my bourbon down with an oddly suggestive wink.

8:24 pm

"Maybe consider spacing out your next drink Alex. I get you're a millionaire and money ain't a thing," Mickey bobs his head, taking note of appearance, "but you're kinda overdoing it buddy," he finishes. I scoff at his smirk and slap a bill on the countertop. "Another." My face and tone drop in an attempt to be taken seriously, but my drunken command doesn't detour Mickey's delight.

"You're the boss."

"Uh-uh, that's at least his sixth drink this hour M." An unfamiliar feminine voice pitches in. It's husky and demanding, and so, I intend to listen. Curiously turning to look, my vision is consumed by that recognizable carrot-like head. If I was captivated before seeing her face, I was surely a goner now.

Mickey ceases his actions while she stares between us with scrutiny. I'm gobsmacked and she clearly takes my silence as a sort of confirmation. "Right, no more for him. Okay M?" Mickey nods sternly, face falling moderately as her tone leaves no room for opposition. "Alexander!" I practically cry out before Red gets the chance to leave. Smooth Turner.

"Excuse me?"

"I-uh, name's Alex..." Yeah, very smooth.

"Jennie." She states curtly, evidently bemused. She then moves swiftly on her heel towards the kitchen. Straight away I grimace, pulling a hand to my forehead, rubbing its lines harshly. "Not a word." Mickey chuckles quietly and goes back to his work.

9:41 pm

"Still here, Alexander?" My head shoots up, startled by Red. When did I even fall asleep-

"Yes?" She snorts at my jumbled reply.

"Want me to call you a cab? A shrink perhaps?"

"M' sorry?" I question clumsily.

"Oh? I just thought you may need one, after hearing what you told to Mickey." Her sultry voice echoes out her rather devious grin. "God." My eyes widen in horror which aids her impending elation. "What have I said?"

"Nothing really, just that..." She starts counting her digits absentmindedly. "You've got no luck writing your music, no love life. Oh, and you have no sex life!" She proclaims the last part with glee. Jesus, please end this nightmare.

"I did not."

"Did too."

"I've had too much drink."

"Drunken words are sober thoughts." Jennie carries on smiling at my trepidation. Maybe I'd find her charming if her jokes weren't at my expense. "That's it, I'm not tipping." I declare pathetically. Her devilish smirk doesn't falter. "Seriously? Things can't be that bad! Mickey tells me you're actually a successful musician."

"That you've obviously never heard of." I roll my eyes at the absurdity of our conversation. She laughs aloud at my response, which I admit, brought a genuine smile to my face. It really has been a while. Her face then goes blank. "Alexander."

"Alex."

"Alex. You're young." She pauses, her gaze sweeps my shaggy appearance. "Ish"

"Ouch." I flinch jokingly, earning myself another gorgeous laugh and playful swat.

"Hey! And you're good-looking."

"Ish." I interrupt again with a chuckle and her smile grows.

"No!" She more or less shouts, "You have a lot to work with, trust me." Her hands gesture nimbly. "The only thing standing in the way of you getting laid is yourself." A surprise roar of laughter leaves my lips shortly and I shake my head in disbelief.

"You're selling yourself short here Alexander," Red concludes. "Alex-"

"You're wasting your youth-ish," she interrupts me once again and a sliver of silence washes over us. It's as if we're the only ones in this packed pub, eyes locked on one another, communicating beyond words. Her deep hazel orbs focus on my brown ones. "What do you suggest I do then, Jennie?" Lightly raising a brow, my words dare her while her lovely name rolls off my tongue. I can't help but revel in how it sounds. Then something flashes in her fixated stare.

"Let's get out of here."

Chapter two

[ragingbookdragon]

A Memory Lives On

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Sad...?

Author's Note: I kinda forgot Simon's entire family was murked on Christmas Eve so...here's sad and kind of happy -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Spades always has a ridiculous amount of money. Everyone is at an understanding that it’s from her job as an international assassin, but they still can’t help but wonder how there just seems to be a never-ending flow of funds. That being said, they’ve never exactly questioned the extra supplies and protype weapons that mysteriously appear in the base for their whims. And the gifts she gives are stellar too.

Last year on Gaz’s birthday she bought two thousand dollars’ worth of Lego sets of the Death Star and the Millennium Falcon from Star Wars. Gaz cried. He literally opened the wrapping paper and cried for a solid five minutes because he had been so happy.

Another year she gave Soap a week’s vacation for his birthday, a full week rented at Blair Castle in Highland Perthshire. The entire castle to himself, full service from the best cooks and servants’ money could buy. Soap came back more Scot than he’d ever been.

One birthday, she’d given Price six boxes of rare cigars, three boxes for each brand of Royal Danish Cigars and Arturo Fuentes Opus X. Everyone had to admit that they’d never seen the Old Man so damned relaxed while smoking a cigar whilst reclining in a velvet chair with a bourbon in his hand.

And yet, for Ghost, she never gave him gifts. But then again, he never celebrated his birthdays to begin with, so there wasn’t ever a need. Ghost didn’t do parties like the others did. Didn’t want cake and beer and junk food and to relax. Ghost worked on his birthdays. It wasn’t a special day to him. It was just another Tuesday or Friday. Still though, he respected Spades for not spending lavish amounts of money on him like she did the others. It wasn’t worth it; he wasn’t worth it.

It does surprise him however, to see her at his door when he opens it at six, already awake before then, but he’d finished paperwork in the meantime.

She smiles calmly, eyes a telling tale she has something planned. “Good morning, Simon,” she greets. “I do believe a Happy Birthday is in order for our resident phantom.”

He grunts in response and waits for her to move—she doesn’t.

“Price has already cleared us for leave today and I’ve something for you. Would you mind accompanying me?”

Now he’s curious, suspicious, but more so curious. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“You always do, Simon,” she replies with a tut. “But I would enjoy your presence if you came along. It is a gift for you.”

Ghost lets out a sigh, but motions for her to lead and she does, to the garage where he climbs in the SUV with her and allows her to take him. “Where are we going?” he asks, but the signs on the road are familiar enough that he already knows.

“Manchester. There’s something waiting for us.”

It’s all she says, and the rest of the ride is filled with silence until they pull into the parking lot of The University of Manchester and begin walking across campus.

“Please don’t tell me I’m attending a college class,” he mutters, and she lets out a laugh.

“Oh, indeed we are. A course on morals and how ambiguous they can be during war.” She gives him a look and gestures for him to follow.

There’s a woman standing there outside the doors, and she smiles as the two approach. “Miss Christensen it’s so wonderful to see you.”

Christensen, Spades fake surname she uses, he recognizes.

“It’s wonderful to see you, Mary.” She introduces Ghost. “This is a friend of mine, he’s accompanying me today. His name is Michael.”

Ghost’s lip curls in disgust at the name but he shakes her hand and allows them to lead, wondering what on earth is at the university for him.

Mary leads them into an office, and they sit across from one another; he feels awkward in the confined room, but relaxes as Spades’ hand rests on his forearm. “So,” she starts, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Miss Christensen?”

Spades smiles. “Michael and I were both intrigued on perhaps obtaining more degrees. We came to check out the potential majors and more importantly, the scholarships we could apply for.”

“Oh yes!” Mary chirps and pulls out a folder that Ghost wonders if she has pre-made for visits like these. “We have quite a few. Old ones that have been around for years, and our newest ones that have been in circulation for the last few years.”

“I heard you had a particular new one that showed up. Would you explain that one?”

“Ah, yes, our newer scholarship started by a rather mysterious sponsor.” She pulls out a packet. “The Joseph Riley Foundation.”

Ghost all but freezes at the mention of a name he hasn’t heard in years.

“Our sponsor created the foundation in memory of a young boy who was sadly killed many years ago. His name was Joseph Riley. Grew up right here in Manchester. From what our sponsor told us, he loved jets and wanted to fly one in the army.” She smiles, but it’s full of sadness. “It’s unfortunate he never got to experience it. Still though, his memory lives on here.” She hands the packet to them, and Spades simply gives it to Ghost to look over. “This scholarship works hand in hand with the British Special Air Services, or SAS, and gives students the opportunity to have a job in the SAS when they graduate. As long as they meet the required terms, they join as an officer with a bonus if they graduate above a three grade point average.”

“Specifically, what does the scholarship provide? Is it entitled to specific degree?”

“Indeed. Aviation degrees, specifically those in aviation engineering and maintenance, aeronautical science, and physics.” She seems rather pleased with herself that she knows so much. “Our sponsor supplies endless funds and expertise along with it for this scholarship, it’s perhaps become one of our most coveted scholarships simply because it’s extremely beneficial to the education. Most of our students in those majors have this.”

Spades is content to listen as she rattles on about it, but Ghost is still stuck on the pages of the history of the scholarship, and a photo of a small boy with a face that looks too familiar.

***

By the time the entire tour is done, Ghost is as mentally drained as Spades looks and she bids farewell to Mary as she escorts the two to their vehicle and waves them goodbye as they pull out of the parking lot.

Spades says nothing, content to stay in silence, but Ghost feels like he has to say something, even if he isn’t even sure what to say.

“Why.”

A snort escapes her. “Because typical birthday gifts aren’t your cup of tea.”

“I haven’t thought about Joey in years,” he murmurs, staring out the window. “I can’t bear to.”

“Yes, I imagine it’s not a pleasant memory…the end, at least. He was just a babe, wasn’t he?”

“Five,” Ghost says quietly. “He…had just turned five.”

She sighs deeply but doesn’t offer Ghost the pitied, “Such a horrid shame,” he’s heard before.

“You come here every year on my birthday?”

“Mhm,” she responds. “I visit the science building and interview the students who’ve obtained the scholarship. Make sure it’s being put to good use. And then I cash a very generous multi-million-dollar check to the school for the foundation. Keeps it thriving and sought after.”

Ghost has never kept the memory of his family alive. It died with him that Christmas Eve as the only surviving Riley. But something aches deep in his chest as he imagines his nephew fresh out of basic, ready to travel and be a pilot for the jets he so loved playing with as a babe. He swallows thickly and looks out the window as Manchester fades away. “Thank you, Spades.”

“Happy Birthday, Simon,” she replies instead and turns on the radio, a catchy pop song drowning out the ache in his chest. “I do have one more gift, if you’ll let me spoil you a little.”

Ghost lets out a groan, already drained far too emotionally to do this again. “You know I don’t do gifts.”

“Hush,” she tuts with a disapproving click of her tongue and commands, “Reach behind your seat.”

He does as she says and reaches back and down, grasping what feels like a box; Ghost pulls it to his lap and stares at it. “What is it?”

“Well, perhaps if you open it?”

He ignores the sarcastic jab and carefully removes the tape around the box and opens it. Inside is a smaller box, about twelve inches and he pulls it out, tosses the first box into the backseat, and opens the second. His eyes widen as he stares at the blade resting in the velvet.

“…Wow…” he manages to mutter, and she smirks at the wheel.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

“Indeed, she’s lovely,” he says, taking the knife out to admire it.

“She’s one of a kind too. Made by an old Blackfeet man in the mountains of Montana. One of the best blades men for diamond knives there is.” She reaches over and touches the hilt. “It’s made from a buffalo and carved with protection symbols.”

Ghost twists the knife in his grip, handling it like any other. “It’s just for show, isn’t it?”

“Oh no, sweetheart,” she says. “That knife is one hundred percent battle ready.” Her expression changes. “I had thought about an obsidian blade. Wanted to make a joke about having a knife as black as your heart, but then I figured why waste it when I can get you a knife I know you’ll use. Hence, the diamond knife.”

“It’s really made of diamonds?”

“Indeed. One of the strongest knives you’ll ever find on the face of this earth. It’ll make for quick work of jugulars and aortas.”

Ghost is seemingly satisfied as he stows the knife in the hide sheath and tucks it into his jacket; and she can feel the smirk he has on his face, knowing he’s itching to use it.

“Happy Birthday, Ghost.”